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#rather it is a choice by those leaving
turtleblogatlast · 5 months
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Imagine little Leo having trouble sleeping so he ends up watching tv and movies with Splinter to pass the time. Splinter often just passes out in his chair, but Leo likes the company anyway.
One day, Leo’s rifling through the movies his dad brought back for them (usually 70s and 80s stuff - Splinter has a bias) and he gasps.
Leo runs over to Splinter and holds up a copy of The Last Unicorn, begging that they watch it that night.
Splinter remembers absolutely nothing about the movie, but hey it’s got a unicorn and it’s animated so it’s gotta be fine, right? So he turns the movie on and passes out near immediately.
He’s woken up roughly an hour and a half later by Leo climbing up onto his chair and sobbing hysterically into his chest.
The movie is now one of Leo’s favorites.
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positivelycarey · 4 months
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My friend and I were talking about bigeneration and I had a thought— what if the Curator is in 14’s line, not 15’s? And what if 14’s line can ONLY use old faces now. AND, what if he has to go in backwards order??
So when he regenerates, it’s back to 13’s face. She spends that whole lifetime with Yaz. And with each new life he gets a new career, and when it’s 4’s face he knows it’s time to be the Curator.
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beeapocalypse · 7 months
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trying to craft a funger oc like aughhhh i can see him i can picture him in my head right now [image of the most off putting little man possible]
#he does not have a name yet but he DOES have a vague concept. author from the eastern union who got drafted into the military and--#--met another guy during the 1 week he had b4 getting shipped out to basic training. they immediately develop a WAY intense relationship--#--and constantly send letters to each other. author is a total chickenshit and comes to cope w the violence of war thru--#--alcoholism and a complete retreat into his obsession w the other man. gets a couple wires crossed and has his lust morph into more + more#--violent fantasies that the other man plays along w bc its Fun+Wild (at its core its the authors desire for CONTROL. if hes the one--#--bringing the pain then hes safe. even better if its with the single person in existence he feels like he can trust during that--#--period of time). manages to live throughout the rest of the war and rushes back to his lover. spends a slowly degrading week w him where-#--the man comes to realize what he thought of as simple metaphor+exaggeration was TRUE desire from the author + the author flounders--#--without the then expected+familiar terror day in and day out. culminates in the man demanding the author leave and never try to contact--#--him again (saying their romance was wild and exciting and unlike anything hed ever experienced but the only good way it couldve ended--#--was if the author died out on the front and forever left him Wanting without the actual reality of those desires realized) and the--#--author either tries to shoot himself or the man (fails to do so. lol) b4 running off to the first train out of town. worlds messiest guy#ya it leans a bit into samarie territory but hes fun. his theoretical ending b would probably have smth to do w sylvian worship + marriages#even more vague idea for his moonscorched form is a sopping wet pathetic red wolf ('red wolf' being one of the mans terms of endearment--#--thru their wartime love letters) w its legs tangled up in barbed wire so it has to drag itself around. red bc its incredibly--#--thin skin (<-- do you get it .) splits and bleeds thru with every movement. a lot of whining and incoherent babbling as it hesitates to--#--ACTUALLY attack anybody. should have some cock horror element but ive no ideas on that front LOL#skill ideas are persistence predator (more melee damage dealt the less mind hes got- a backstory choice where he focuses entirely on the--#--love letters rather than splitting focus on his on-pause career with short stories) and an unnamed one playing into his terror/lust deal-#--where he gets a buff to either melee damage or speed when his phobia is active. want to come up with at least one more though#mmmaybe him being an author doesnt play that well into his concept as a whole but hes my strangeguy so whatever
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jupiterjunebug · 1 year
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Shaking the bars of my enclosure, screaming "they're fucking nineteen. The reason they are making suboptimal decisions is that they are nineteen! And going through trauma!"
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tardis--dreams · 19 hours
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Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes
#also my colleague (the girl i had my shift with) is the exact opposite of me in all aspects. asked me if I'd ever worked in customer service#because i couldn't care less about being fake friendly to assholes and don't care if they like the service or not#like bitch those people don't have any other choice but drink our fucking coffee it's not like I'm competing with anyone#or like they pay us in any way. i get paid for doing the dumb work i have to do not for stroking some dumb ass doctors' egos#they come out of their rooms once an hour to get coffee and we have the cups on the table and i wouldn't even Think of#HANDING them the cups and smiling sweetly at them and asking 'coffee? tea?? :))'#I'll just assume these grown adults will get their stupid coffee or tea when they want some. it's not like they don't know where it is#(and i AM friendly and smile when someone is coming in our direction but why the fuck do you need to get so disgustingly friendly with them#if someone held up a cup asking if i.want some coffee I'd leave immediately even if i came just for coffee. it's creepy)#anyway. she's nice. I'm not.#there's normal people who will get their coffee and maybe ask if the milk in the little jug is cow milk to which I'll happily reply 'yes#:)'. then there's the other people who see the oat milk and make it clear they are the most insufferable people on the planet#(and i pity their patients so much. not much to choose from i guess but if i had that as a doctor I'd happily just die)#like everyone who took oatmilk could do it without making a fuss about the cow milk on the table. the cow milk lovers could never#'the oat milk is in front of the actual milk. this is unacceptable. i hate such healthy bullshit' lol okay#'OAT milk?? I'll leave this to the horses! THANK GOD you have actual milk!'#my favorite was the one who really took personal offense with its sheer presence. as if it had killed half of his patients lmao#'we had 50 patients with xyz problem. ALL of them drink oat milk. they cannot see the connection. it's really unhealthy'#at this point i just said i didn't care and stopped paying attention and he started complaining to his doctor colleague about how#oat milk is advertised to be healthy and how it's actually the opposite and i just find that very funny compared to the first comment#from that one guy who doesn't like such healthy bullshit. you guys need to find a consensus on the oatmilk issue i think. no one takes you#seriously if you contradict yourself like this. also i couldn't care less about the healthiness of the milk alternative of my choice. bitch.#next week I'll end up killing someone. i hope they all die from their cow milk. (but not the ones who took cow milk and didn't say anything#about the oat milk. they can continue living as they didn't annoy me)#void screams#some of these doctors were actually quite nice (most of them even). one even brought an applicant to us telling her to get some coffee#(which we are not allowed to give to applicants. but i don't care. I'd rather they get something than some of the asshole jury members#who hate oat milk (which is not the issue. the issue is them making it everybody else's issue that they don't like oat milk))
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peapod20001 · 7 months
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I actually do have very complex thoughts about many different things, it’s just a bit challenging to connect the inner voice to the outer voice sometimes </3
#random post#I have SO many thoughts and ideas. I love to create and I love to build on what I have and I like to connect to existing things#there is lots of oc lore in my brain! it graces my blog sometimes. not always. it’s hard to put abstract feeling and thought into words#and it’s challenging trying to find the best place to start talking about things yknow? like I as the creator of this whole unique universe#pretty much already know how things end up. how they’re going. how it started. some are easier to know than others. but that doesn’t stop me#from trying create for it. or searching for the missing piece to start the domino effect of development and fulfillment#it’s hard to see where the pieces fit sometimes. but getting a new angle or changing something about the piece can make finding where it#belongs easier. this is what I mean when I say I have very intricate and complicated thoughts. not spending too long writing my sentences or#overthinking them helps to keep things as they are in my head. since I’m not filtering them into something almost unrecognizable#writing a paper in a single sitting in a set time really helps me produce a unified and intricate product. I’ve been told I write well#which I find mildly humorous. I’ve never been a writer by choice really. I’m an artist that works with a physical visual piece rather than#letters that convey meaning. I’m more of a thinker than a writer. but in some instances they’re one in the same. I’m rambling but y’all know#that about me by now I’m sure hahagahaha. yea. my OCD makes me spend too long on words and that’s why I always talk in a short way#a more simplistic way. leaves less room for the mind to pick out flaws if everything is flawed on purpose yknow? haha yea. I like me yknow?#and other people like me too! that will never cease to surprise and amaze me haha. I’m one of those people that has an easier time with#people different from themselves. the people I’ve known and spoke to throughout my life are so very different from me. but they all feel#comfortable to share their experience with me. a lot of these people on paper would be ones I’d try to avoid I guess. differing opinions and#world views yknow? but the way I am. gives people comfort I’ve found. I’m not bragging about that it’s just interesting. it’s the same with#my whole household like we meet people that are like. idk a good descriptor but they’re very set in a specific way. and then we just?? they#like us?? idk it’s just funny to think about my dad getting along with legit crazy people or my mom being the person who’s the favorite of#the least liked / polite person in the office. or my brother and sister being very well liked in their schools but are just average students#who aren’t trying to be more than kind. or when I as myself. with the thoughts and opinions I have. am able to get along with anyone I#come across. I’m really not trying to be bright about that I’m just an. empath? I guess? I’m just very nice to people and meet them at their#level and don’t try steering the conversation to smth bad or controversial. but even then people will still talk to me and like me cus I’m#not putting them down or hating on them for how they think and feel. I listen. I can understand them. not agreeing with their views doesn’t#mean I can’t get why people think or feel how they do. I try to not be biased or entirely antagonist to things different than me#I’ve gone my whole life not understanding a lot of things. and over time I’ve learned them. I go into experiences with people like that#I may not understand yet. but I’ll learn to. that’s probably the main reason why people feel comfortable around me. that and also I have#a smile pretty much always lol. I’m small and non threatening lookin with a single dimple on the cheek and eyes so dark you could see the#faintest light reflected in them. anyways I have gone into several different directions with this and kinda lost the main point I was making
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llitchilitchi · 9 months
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to preface this, this is not hate i just kept rambling bc i do feel strongly abt the matter, apologies and feel free to disregard if you'd rather not have discourse on your blog. kick was literally (co) founded by people who felt that twitch's policies and their enforcement against hate speech, slurs, etc (which aren't that great to begin with) were too restrictive. adin ross is a co-owner, or at least he has claimed as much and not been challenged by kick itself. that platform has a userbase that absolutely would harass the kind of people in sapnap's audience, so being in his chat or watching list really just puts a target on them/us. and kick's moderation tools are infamously poor. like yes, twitch needs to be toppled from its monopoly but not at the cost of giving a larger piece of the proverbial pie to kick of all places. twitch's leadership is interested in profit at the expense of their employees and users both, and they have no interest in protecting or empowering marginalized creators or users. it's shit, but it's ultimately a matter of them not caring, while kick's leadership is actively hostile to marginalized people, and that is going to make a difference in what changes can be made at all. (and about amazon, kick still uses amazon servers and webservices for the actual streaming portion of their platform, so... ) finally, while i absolutely agree that the way twitch treats its streamers, including things like the revenue split, is horrid, quite a bit of sapnap's stated reasoning about things like twitch not offering him a contract (beyond regular partner i guess) or the ceo not knowing him, are kind of... not unreasonable when you look at how much he has actually USED twitch. he's had the sapnap account for years and only streamed three hundred odd hours, even if you add the alt streams it's... not that much. and most of all, it's never really been consistent. he may stream every day for like a week but then its months of nothing outside like, mcc. only going live for special events isn't going to net one a big contract, and there is only so far the fame of being one of the OG dsmp members will get you. i like sapnap, but i think if he truly believes kick's ceos making vague non-specific promises of "making the site better" he is being naive, because what they're looking for it most definitely just another "famous" name (big mcyt internet phenomenon or whatever) and title (nrg co-owner) they can use to advertise their site and legitimize it. going by his paste bin, they played at his ego, and because he felt slighted by twitch (not entirely unfairly given how twitch sucks in supporting and even just appreciating or fairly paying their creators), he took it. trying to migrate his fanbase over to a platform headed and controlled by people who actively hate the people making up most of that fanbase is, frankly, ludicrous. but kick doesn't need his viewers, they need his name, so why would they care? like yes, generally even founders can be replaced eventually, but in this case, these owners also own the crypto gambling bank thing that funds all of kick, so you can't really force them out unless or until the platform can carry itself - and the multiple other attempts at making twitch competitors kind proved that that is hard to achieve. they control the money, they control the platform, and if they want the platform to be a space where they and those like them can be as hateful and bigoted as they want, that's what it's going to be.
these are all very valid points, and I hope my response to this won't come off as a massive BUT in defense of kick
that platform sucks. that much is obvious, and if Ross is really the co-owner that's just all the more reason to feel unsafe to be there. I don't know nearly enough about all their policies and given everything that has been said about them I never really had much interest in looking into them further. it's just another site that is full of toxic hypermasc culture
I won't go and defend Sapnap's decision to move there, either, but I think there is a lot he is not telling us (be it because he is unsure or because of contracts) that made him feel that a move like this is worth it. he isn't stupid, he knows his fanbase is massive and consists of many marginalized groups, so if he thought that kick is better than twitch even with a massively queer and poc fanbase, he must have had his reasons. I doubt he didn't talk this through with Dream, George, his managers etc.
I also don't want to entirely y'know defend twitch with their policies. cause their policies regarding hate speech are absolutely shit. remember when they banned the word "simp"? because people didn't like it? but did absolutely nothing about all the sexual harrassment going on? yeah. I also want to add that my automod that twitch provides is sometimes more than unreliable and censored a regular for saying "long gay cat" in chat. loosening the restrictions will definitely cause damage to those who deserve to be protected the most, but the restrictions did little to protect them to begin with, in my experience.
from what I remember of early twitch it was pretty loose like kick is now. big names coming in might result in tightening policies, even if that comes off as wishful thinking. all platforms ended up doing so, sooner or later.
what I do find a little ridiculous is how people insist that the majority of the userbase of kick are the type to harass Sapnap's fans which, while true, should not matter as much as we make it out to be? I genuinely doubt that they will all immediately flock to Sapnap's channel and spam slurs in chat and be in such overwhelming numbers it will be unbearable. and if it was, and became a regular issue, Sapnap would definitely do something about it. unless the majority of their userbase is likely to open streams of chill people and then target every person in chat
I dunno, it's much ado about nothing so far, we only got an announcement and it's hard to judge how things will play out after the move. it's fair that streamers, especially with as big a following as Sapnap, want better deals out of twitch. I don't know about them but the affiliate deals are not that great and very far from fair. moving to kick might not be the best thing but honestly, what other choice is there other than maybe YouTube?
we're all panicking ahead of time as this fandom has a tendency to, so idk. let's all take a deep breath and see how things play out before jumping into conclusion. it's certainly gonna be a lot less bad than people insist, and worst case scenario I'm sure the vods will be reuploaded to YT by some good samaritan.
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mariocki · 11 months
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Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 223/?
Tina Turner - GoldenEye (1995)
"You'll never know
How I watched you from the shadows as a child,
You'll never know
How it feels to be the one who's left behind.
You'll never know the days,
The nights, the tears, the tears I've cried;
But now my time has come
And time, time is not on your side!"
#favourite lyrics#tina turner#rip#goldeneye#bono#the edge#1995#james bond#wildest dreams#might seem an odd choice of Tina song to celebrate her life‚ what with the wealth of massive success she leaves; i mean River Deep Mountain#High? Proud Mary? The Best? all bangers‚ all absolute masterpieces (I am particularly in love with River Deep which I would consider a#perfectly constructed single). but this is slightly an indulgent thing on my part; rather‚ i should say‚ a sentimental choice#as slightly feral teens‚ my bff and i would drive around north wales late at night (there isn't much to do here when you're an angsty angry#teen) smoking and listening to cds we made blasted as loud as possible on her car stereo. i think the goldeneye theme was on p much#every cd we ever made; we both knew the lyrics back to front‚ we'd both scream sing along and try to hit those incredible lingering notes#and quavering vocals like Tina (obviously never doing it at all justice). I'm not sure why we loved the song so much. partly bc we were of#an age to have been around for Goldeneye as a film release and game and it was a pretty big deal‚ reinvigorating the bond#franchise after something like a decade or more of slow decline into irrelevance (don't @ me i genuinely enjoy the Timothy Dalton films but#the fact is the franchise was dead in the water by 95). more likely it was because it is simply such an infectiously good banger of a song#it's everything a bond theme should be: Big‚ dramatic‚ campy‚ a little bit eerie‚ quasi operatic. it's a whole mysterious narrative#delivered in 3 and a half minutes in a pitch perfect vocal from a legend at the height of her powers. i actually didn't know until today#that it was written by the U2 twosome (but it makes sense and i can hear it now) but regardless they wrote it specifically for Turner: for#her own specific delivery and style. it's possible to sing this song a dozen different ways following the same lyrics and music and end up#with a dozen entirely different songs. but only one was the right choice; Tina's. a dark velvet glove on a cold hard gun. there was only#ever one tina turner‚ and so it should have been. rip to a true icon.
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eff-plays · 8 months
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Ok so I watched the interview with Stephen Rooney, Astarion's writer, and here are some highlights. (I'm an aspiring writer and current game design student who wants to write for games so I'm sorry if some of these insights aren't as interesting to you as they are to me <3)
He calls Astarion his "horrible little vampire boy"
He loves seeing the fandom around Astarion<3
He did write other characters in the game, but mostly NPCs surrounding Astarion or his storyline, so it mostly revolved around Astarion
Astarion is not as connected to other companions/Origins as, for example, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, or Wyll and Karlach are to each other, but he is still reactive to their stories, even if it's just to stand off to the side and laugh when something terrible happens
He had a clear sense of where Astarion's story would start and end, but it got "muddy in the middle", but those are also moments where the best ideas come from
They write from the general idea that every character has one "good" and one "evil" ending, in order to give the player choice. RIP Ascendant apologists :(
According to Stephen, two of the most important aspects of Astarion's character (to keep consistent when bringing him to Idle Champions, at least) is that he enjoys violence, but is also fun about it
"He has a certain appreciation for violence, I guess? A bit of a murdery streak. [...] He's a vampire, he's all about blood, and he's all about, kind of, those darker sides of humanity. [..] But at the same time, he is ... He is really fun, he's really fun to write, he's really fun to have in your party, and it's very important for me that that is also represented."
"He's gonna stab you, but will have a smile on his face as he does it? I mean, I dunno. That's kind of him in a nutshell."
Larian would not have allowed for Astarion to be a typical brooding Dracula type, and there were scenes that were shot down for not being original enough
The main thing about Astarion was trying to get a "sense of fun." It would be easy to write a character that was very unlikable, and they absolutely did not want to do that
Rooney says Astarion is consistently terrible throughout the game and awful in a whole lot of ways, but he also needed to be charming enough that you could tolerate his presence and wanted him around
Rooney also had a lot of input on Astarion's stats (meaning the 10 Charisma is probalby 100% intentional)
He also had input on how certain lines should be delivered, even though the writers didn't directly work with voice actors
The way Astarion moves and poses is "all Neil"
Apparently, Neil Newbon worked on the character for years and Rooney did not speak to him once, though his voice work did influence how Astarion's lines were written and it became a "feedback loop" (Possible context for "ONLY SLIGHTLY, NEIL")
There were no points where a line delivery drastically changed Astarion's writing; rather it was a constant, slow evolution
However, there was one very spoilery moment where Neil gave such emotion to some "basic" lines that it fundamentally changed the scene (WHAT IS IT OMG)
It's difficult to balance approval, as you don't want to straight up write a monster. Every character needs to have some humanity in them. So if it comes to leaving the party, it needed to be the result of something central to said character. They wanted to be mindful of situations that would cause actual rifts between characters. (I assume this is why most generic disapprovals/approvals are +/- 1 or 2, while character-related ones give +/-5 or more)
However, as they don't write straight up horrible people/monsters, it doesn't come up as often as one might think.
The interviewer makes a point about how characters like Astarion and Lae'zel are good examples of how to play "evil" characters, as they are maybe not the best people but are still eager and willing to stick around the other party members
They worked to make sure the characters would work as a group, no matter the configuration of the group. The characters needed to be on the same path, even if they don't always agree or walk that path the same way.
Stephen Rooney is very proud of the "climactic" scene of Astarion's story. (AS HE SHOULD BE.) He even had to step away from the computer and have an emotional moment. Me too, man.
He's also "extremely pleased" that there's a point where you can punch Astarion in the face. "Actually, that one might be my favorite part" A MAN OF THE PEOPLE!!
Stephen Rooney's tip on what specific thing you should try out with Astarion: When he's trying to get a "sneaky nibble" at night, you should "probably" let him bite you. Way ahead of you there, sir.
No discussion about Astarion's romance unfortunately, but that's that!
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eelhound · 9 months
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"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:
If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.
'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?
This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).
But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."
- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.
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chrollohearttags · 5 months
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the baby trapper | armin artlert
armin wants to make sure you don’t ever leave him. Even if he has to resort to desperate measures
content + themes: porn w/ a little plot, toxic armin making his triumphant return, baby trapping (new to writing this so forgive me if it doesn’t sound right), slight yandere vibes (?) missionary, rough sex, daddy kink, breeding (dk what it is with this man and breeding 😫), unprotected sex, he’s so terrible but he’s so sexy
wc: 1.7K
📝: trying to get my steam back a little and I also couldn’t stop thinking about @levisbaldheadedwh0re and his five baby mamas 😭😭 I’d like to think this is how his ass got them.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :── ・ 。゚☆: *.
you’d told yourself no..you’d said it time and again that you were done. That this would be the very last time you’d see him..that he didn’t deserve you. All of which were false except the latter. Because somewhere in the back of your consciousness, you knew…you knew it’d always be this way. A tumultuous, repetitive cycle of breaking up and making up even harder. Telling him you hated his guts only got him to be in yours hours later; saying how sorry he was and you’d always forgive him without pause. But this time, he couldn’t be certain…the risk of you actually following through on your promise was far too great. You made it abundantly clear that if he didn’t get his shit together, you were breaking up with him. And to take things a step further, you were moving out of this city and leaving his ass behind entirely. The prospect of you moving onto bigger and better things..new job that paid amicably, an apartment on a nicer side of town than where you currently were and of course, a better man. You had every intention of doing so too. That was until…
“Keep fucking me!…just like that. Right there..”
“Right there, baby? That’s your spot, ain’t it?..squeezing me so fucking tight—“
until you made the rather ignorant choice to make one last visit to the toxic, selfish man known as Armin Artlert. Giving your final plea of sorts; hoping that he’d beg your forgiveness and vow to be a better boyfriend. Because although he wasn’t the best fit for you in the slightest, there was still some semblance of love there. A part of you cared so deeply and didn’t want to let him go. But the truth was, that was pure, unadulterated lust! The connection you felt for him was nothing more than an attachment to his sex..the way he fucked you was incomprobable. Hadn’t met a man who could make you feel the way he did physically. Despite causing you pain in every other area..regardless, you looked past it once he got you out of your clothes and on his mattress, practically breaking the bed frame trying to put you through it.
“Arminnn!….oh my gosh..”
coiling both your wrists and ankles into his grasp, he’d keep you in place, pounding into that core with consistent strokes. Each one going deeper and deeper..drumming out loud whimpers and arousal all the same. A sheath of your juices were leaking onto the sheets, along with staining his cock. He didn’t care..he desired more. Almost as if he were addicted to it. You were already overstimulated; afraid that you couldn’t take another orgasm. All of this came only after he had eaten your pussy to the point of tears. Yet, here he was..determined to get more than his fill. Those blonde locks plastered to his forehead due to the pouring sweat trickling down his body. He always got this way when he was inside of you. The only time he’d give you his all; completely devoted to ensuring that you received the ultimate pleasures. Trembling and shaking, (y/n) gazed into those icy colored eyes, each of which were teeming with lust for you as he finally faltered his speed a little. Those arms..each toned and laced with detailed tattoos stood at your side like that of pillars. “Yes, baby? Something on your mind?”
at the moment, it was completely blank. Your brain dumbed and fucked out by his unrelenting resolve. Not to prove he would treat you right but to ensure that you didn’t go elsewhere. That even if you decided to get in that car tomorrow, drive miles away and never look back, he’d be forever imprinted in your memory..
“I-I can’t..no more, baby. Please…oh my gosh.”
however, that wasn’t the only way that Armin was planning to leave his mark on you. Because little did you know, he had devised a plan to ensure that the two of you would be bound for a lifetime. Whether you wanted to do so or not..
“No more? Oh, sweetheart..I know you can give me so much more than that..” his voice mirroring that of a very nefarious villain. Even patting your cheek and sliding a thumb between your lips for a small semblance of comfort. You looked so cute and utterly pathetic. So much so the sight made him twitch whilst buried to your hilt. That swollen cock head pressing directly against the entrance of your womb. He hadn’t been entirely honest when he invited you over for what he called “one last talk.”..hell, he had no intentions at all of sitting down and discussing the state of your relationship, what he could do to resolve it or how to be a better man. His one and true objective was to get you pregnant! He wanted you to be with his child, so that no matter where you strayed, you’d be reminded of him. He’d constantly tell you how he wanted you to have his baby and that you’d look so pretty carrying it. But you couldn’t in good faith raise a child with someone as irresponsible as Armin! His employment was constantly fleeting, he lacked all the skills required to care for another human being and you didn’t want that risk. But you truly had no choice..no choice but to lie there and take every inch of him as your beautiful brown eyes rolled to the back of your skull. As that appendage left an imprint in the pit of your belly, kissing the inner corner of that cervix. Your legs flailing midair and your toes curling to the max. He wanted to keep you like this forever..admire and treasure his most precious possession..
“I mean..I bet if I do this..” suddenly, you’d feel that swelling tension in your loins deepening when he rubbed your clit with his free thumb. “No wait!—“ “..you’ll come so hard, I won’t even be able to stay inside of you.” His voice is so condescending but soothing in a way. He gave you sweet nothings with the most sour of intentions. Knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to leave here tonight without every last drop of his seed in your womb. Until he saw the lines on that test indicating a positive result. He needed it..he needed you so fucking badly!
“So that’s why I want you to take it…take all this fucking dick, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl..the only one who can get all of my nut. So do it..take it just like you did the other ones.”
it was then that those vigorous thrusts would resume. Even harder than before and he didn’t care that he had now freed your hands and you were utilizing them as a means to slow him down. He’d merely put them right back where they started. “If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, beautiful. I guess I’ll just have to hold them again.” Meanwhile, he’d release another maniacal laugh and shove his tongue between your lips; swirling it around your own until you were whimpering into his mouth. He had maximized his speed and was rutting those hips until you felt him to the hilt. That tight cunt made even more constricted by his previous loads that had been sloshing around. Throbbing and leaking as he thrashed you around. His thick girth and long length fill every sector of you. He had full dominion over this body and wasn’t letting go!
“Are you gonna do as I asked, baby? You’ll do whatever I want, right?..”
“Y-yes, daddy! Fuck meeee..”
“And you’re not going any fucking where, isn’t that right?..”
“No…oh my gosh, just don’t stop.”
your answer seemed to satisfy his ego well enough and that was all he needed to persist. Smirking down and rewarding you with another kiss, Armin gently stroked the side of your face before leaning back up.
“That’s right, baby. Get used to calling me daddy..because I want to get you pregnant. Fill that pretty pussy up..you ready?” You’d vehemently nod with tears in your eyes. Begging for him to do so..to make you his forever. With only a couple more strokes, he’d take an inch or so out and for his final thrusts, slow down.. “..c’mon, beg me. Lemme hear you say that shit. Tell me you want my babies..tell me you want me to get you pregnant.” Leaving you no option than to do so and truth be told…
“Come in me, daddy! Please..give it to me..”
“There we go…now hold still..”
you wouldn’t want it any other way! Finally, he’d come to a halt and you’d feel that earlier throbbing increased tenfold. All that mounting tension of being between those tight walls had finally caught up and he couldn't hold or pull out. “Ah—haaa..shit, coming!”
pulling you into his chest, Armin would empty every last remnant of his cum into your womb, filling your stomach with every ounce, joining the other two that had followed before. You were stuffed to the brim; overflowing with the warm, white substance by the time he finished. Those strings of silky fluid didn’t come without a chorus of empty ‘I love you’s’ and tearful cries. He made you linger on every word. Hold on to hope that he meant what he spoke. But even if there wasn’t a hint of truth in his statement..
“Thank you, sweetheart…for letting me fill you up..look at that. Gonna look so pretty with my baby..I love you.”
it was too late. You were already trapped inside of his web!
8K notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 7 months
Text
“We should get married.” 
The question in and of itself is a strange one, made more so for the fact that it’s coming from Zoro of all people – and the fact that he’s asking you in the middle of a fight. Your back is pressed against his, the heat of his skin seeping into your clothes – and you wonder if he’s gotten hit in the head too many times. Or thrown through too many things – too much of something. 
“Are you seriously saying that right now?” Your tone is incredulous as you swing your weapon, scowling as you watch another enemy drop with a cry and a splatter of blood. “We’re a little busy right now, aren’t we?”
Zoro grins, expression manic with the deepened shadows of his face from his bandana, adjusting to place the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji in his mouth. “Is that a yes?”
You have the brief moment of considering knocking Zoro out for your opponent – clearly his daily naps out in the sun have baked his brain more than you previously thought. “No!”
The question doesn’t turn out to be borne from a brain-based injury flaring up, because Zoro doesn’t let the subject go. He bides his time, waiting about two weeks from when he first asked before he tries again.
This time, the stars are a witness to his buffoonery – now fueled by the bottles of sake he seems to have squirreled away everywhere on the Thousand Sunny. You watch as he tips the bottle to his lips, the brief shimmer of liquid that beads at his lips before it disappears as he swallows. 
“We should get married,” he says, and this time, you scoff. It isn’t one of disdain, rather of amusement as you wait for the alcohol induced flush to rise to his cheeks. “‘m serious, you know.”
“No,” you counter softly as you scoot closer to him, reaching up to wipe a drop of sake from the corner of his lips and bring it to your own for a taste. As ever, his own choices in alcohol seem to be tailored for him and him alone – sake still isn’t your thing. “You’re drunk.”
Zoro hums, eye flicking from the night sky above to you. “Is that a yes?”
You press your lips to his warm cheek. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”
The third time that he asks, he’s waited so long that you’ve almost forgotten that he ever asked in the first place. After all, Roronoa Zoro has never seemed like someone interested in the intimate entanglement of marriage – you have absolutely no clue what has possessed him to suddenly ask you with this kind of tenacity. 
“We should get married,” he says, and you resist the urge to sigh as you stare at him, his head pillowed against your thigh. Below the shade of Nami’s tangerine trees, you can hear Luffy’s bright laughter intermingled with Usopp and Franky’s. 
This time you aren’t in the middle of a fight, nor is he drunk. This time, you take a moment to study his face, the dapple of sunlight through waxy green leaves, the scent of citrus in the air. You love him, you’re sure of that – as sure as you’ve been of anything in your life. 
“We’re pirates,” you answer, tapping your fingers against his cheek in an echoed rhythm of one of Brooke’s songs from the night before. “Pirates don’t get married.”
“Sure they do.” He’s watching you now, with the kind of intensity he usually only reserves for battle, and you look away. “Captains can officiate marriages. I asked Robin about it.”
You blink and let your attention shift to Luffy for a minute – you love your captain, you do. But the idea of him being serious about much of anything beyond what matters to him (food, his crew’s safety, finding the One Piece – in that order) makes you giggle. You can’t imagine him officiating something like a marriage. 
“What if I want a ceremony?” Your fingers find his cropped green hair, stroking gently across his scalp. “Those are expensive.”
He shrugs. “We’d find a way. I’m sure Nami would help.”
Your lips curve in an amused smile for a moment before it dims at the edges. “It’d be dangerous,” you point out, and he answers with a short bark of laughter.
“Not any more than shit we’ve already faced.”
“Rings?”
“We don’t need that fancy stuff.” 
Your smile fades completely, hand stilling in his hair. “Why do you think we should get married?”
There must be an edge to your tone now, because Zoro refocuses on you, all signs of mirth gone. “Because we love each other, right? Sounds like the next logical step.” 
Your gaze hardens. “So you’re asking because you think we should? Or because you want to marry me?” He sits up, and you get to your feet. 
“Is that a no?” he asks, and you pause.
“Ask me again when you figure things out, Zoro.” 
“Marry me.” 
This time, his voice is quiet. Soft and vulnerable – for the late hour or the intimacy of his bare skin against yours, you aren’t sure. His hand drifts up and down your back, counting the bumps of your spine over and over. 
You shift against him, face nestled to rest against his chest. “Zoro–” 
“I’ve thought about it,” he cuts you off. “So just be quiet and listen, okay?” You don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue on his own. “I don’t want to marry you just because I think that I should, I want us to get married because you...you mean a lot to me. You’re important to me, and I –” He pauses, struggling. This kind of thing is not Zoro’s forte, you both know that – but after a moment, he resumes. “I don’t see myself being like this with anyone but you. I don’t want to be like this with anyone but you. Just want you.” A moment of silence, hearts beating in tandem. 
You move, adjusting enough that you can look at him properly, the gleam of moonlight against his face. And you kiss him. Slow and sweet, eyes sliding shut as you linger for as long as you can before you pull away. 
“Marry me,” he repeats. 
This time, you don’t squawk at him like he’s crazy. You don’t accuse him of being drunk, don’t deflect him for fear that he’s doing it because he thinks he should, not that he wants to. This time, you smile.
“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll marry you.”
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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months
Text
Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
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“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
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You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
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“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
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The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
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3hks · 1 month
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Substitutes For "Dead Parents"
Okay you guys! I mentioned this in a past post, but when it comes to family, some of ya'll are just... not creative. And don't get me wrong, having deceased parents is deep, dark, and hard, but at this point, a lot of readers simply overlook that because it's just that common. Not to mention, a lot of you guys aren't doing nearly enough with that information! So, for this post, I'll give some new examples relating to "family struggles!"
>> Neglect: Neglectful parents often don't give their child enough attention, time, or care. They don't always hate their kid; quite the opposite, really, they can still love their offspring and are simply unaware that they are being neglectful. This happens for a multitude of reasons: all their attention is focused on a different child, they're busy, or they're just uninterested in their kid's activities.
>> Abuse: Abuse is rather straightforward; it can be physical, mental, or even both. Even if it's only physical abuse, it can heavily damage the child's mental health and make them question their self-worth.
>> Fighting: I think that a lot of us have endured our parents fighting, and I'm fully confident that none of us enjoyed it. It's incredibly difficult for a kid to listen to their parents fight without knowing how to stop it, being stuck in the middle, and even worse, being the center of the argument. As it escalates, the child may even feel neglected, because their parents are only focused on each other.
>> Absence: Like neglect, these parents don't devote nearly enough attention and time to their child. However, this is because they are hardly present in the household to begin with. Normally, it's their career that keeps them away, leaving their kid to raise themselves.
>> Controlling: Oftentimes, controlling parents are found in, believe it or not, more successful households. Kids who have parents that own a successful business or are powerful in general are sometimes raised to follow those footsteps regardless if they want to or not. If they don't want to, as a result, they are kept on a tight leash. Controlling parents can also be found in stricter households.
>> Toxicity: Toxicity, a form of emotional abuse, can come in many forms, gaslighting, demeaning words, constant criticism, comparison, etc. Frequently, the child is unaware that their parents are being toxic until a third party points it out to them. This is because they've only known their parents acting in toxic manners; thus, it becomes their norm. However, it's also entirely possible for the parent to be oblivious to the fact that they're being toxic.
>> Distant: Being distant doesn't always have to be because of some crazy reason; they might've been a very happy and close family once, but as time passes on, they just simply start drifting in their separate ways. It's not the same as neglect or an absence; the child is usually able to adjust to it easier, and it might've even been their choice to be distanced from their parents.
>> Child Responsibility: This is a scenario where the kid acts more like a parental figure--they have to take care of both themselves and their family. In some situations, they also have to work in order to supply their family with enough money to be able to pay for life necessities. This normally happens when a/the parent(s) are out of commission and struggle to provide for their family. If the household is poor, the child might be working alongside their parents in an attempt to make their lives easier.
Did I miss anything? Let me know what you guys think about these substitutes!
Happy writing~
3hks :D
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lesbesim · 1 year
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ok i found my favorite way of making characters
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in-som-niyah · 27 days
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i want a gentle jason
Jason who kisses his way up your body when you're coming down from your high. He whispers a hushed 'you okay ma?' in your ear because he cares
Jason who cleans you up with a soft towel against your delicate skin with eyes burning with just how much he loves you
Jason who will shower with you if you're up for it, constantly kissing your neck, your shoulders, anywhere his bitten lips could reach as his hands lovingly spread suds around your body
Jason who brings you a warmed and fluffy towel and wraps you up in it, making you look like the most adorable burrito he's ever seen
Jason who rubs you down with expensive oils, creams and butters, making sure your skin stays soft for the next time he's itching to devour you
Jason who helps you back into your (his) comfy clothes, while whispering all of the million and one reasons he'll love you forever
Jason who massages your hips, back and thighs, while also smoothing his lips over his previous bites he left on your heated skin and maybe leaving some more
Jason who rubs firm and gentle circles into your lower tummy, the place where he felt his length protruding from mere minutes ago, to soothe the ache he must have left
Jason who kisses you to sleep with his limbs wound tightly around you, mentally praying for your touch to never leave him
Jason who leaves your sleeping body only to make you breakfast the next morning: french toast with fluffy pancakes with syrups and jams of your choice
Jason who battles with his own mind about his self worth and weather or not you should be with someone better. But he would rather (literally) die than have you thinking the same. You're perfect. End of story.
Jason who would burn the whole world down if misfortune ever dared to reveal itself to you. Nothing will ever hurt you. Nothing will ever stop him from looking down and seeing those bright, sparkling eyes and sheepish smile. He swears on his next grave.
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