#Insecure men in love with other insecure men

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bunnis-monsters]

🕸️Legend of the Drider🕸️

Bunni’s Monstertober Event(Oct1)

Male!Drider x Fem!Reader

Oct2

warnings: light web bondage, breeding, oviposition, possessive behavior, reader is a bit insecure about her body, body worship and praise

summary: You go on a trip, hoping to build your confidence before you go back to college. When you get trapped on a mountain during a storm, you realize a legend about spider people may be real when you encounter a horny one for yourself.

A/N: I don’t know much about college so don’t kill me if things are inaccurate 💗 also don’t expect all of the halloween posts to be this long, some will be short and some on the longer side >< also guess the inspo for this story in the comments…

my ko-fi if you’re feeling generous~

If you had known how your trip up a nearby mountain would end with you in the clutches of the spider creature you’d only heard of in legends, you would have stayed home that October day.

But you were bored, wanting to find some fun stuff to film and meet a cute stranger while you were at it. That’s why you packed your bag and left for the nearby tourist attractions.

First you walked through a big pumpkin patch, taking pictures with a 50 pound pumpkin. It wasn’t as impressive as some you had seen online, and you knew that wearing a burnt orange sweater while posing next to it would only bring on ridicule.

You weren’t thin, and if someone from your college saw that picture, you were sure they’d compare you to the pumpkin, saying it was your twin.

Well… you had never even really talked to a single in any of your classes. You weren’t the type that liked to socialize. Too many times had you been burned, finding out they were being your friends for a prank or had been talking about your body behind closed doors.

Part of you knew it wasn’t right to judge others before even meeting them. After all, it happened to you more times than you could count… but you were still too shy and insecure to take that first step into making new friends.

That’s why you took a bit of time off of college to try and build up your confidence. It was important to you, learning how to love yourself so you could truly love others.

Ever since you went through puberty you had been aching for someone to love you, to adore you with their entire being…

How would you even be able to believe them if you didn’t love yourself first?

So you laughed at the picture of you next to a pumpkin and placed it into your scrap book before packing it away in your backpack.

You repeated this at several tourist attractions, even finding the courage to speak to a few attractive men and women. It wasn’t as scary as you thought, they didn’t look at you with disgust or say anything mean. They simply spoke with you before giving a smile and going about their day.

‘Maybe there really isn’t anything to be afraid of after all?’

The last stop on your list was the Arachne Mountains, named after a certain legend surrounding the area.

“Huh… spider people have been sighted several times over the year, and there’s a reward for anyone that can catch them on camera…”

You squinted at the pamphlet in your hands, trying to read the small print at the bottom. “What does that say? It’s so small…”

With a shrug, you stuffed the pamphlet into your bag, pulling out the bug spray instead and spraying every bit of bare skin. Mosquitos just loved you, and you didn’t want to be itching the whole bus ride home.

As you walked up the mountain trail, you took many pictures, but mostly of the gorgeous scenery.

A vast forestry landscape spread out beneath you, and the mountain path winded through the forest. As you continued walking, the path worn down by several years of hikers began to become more overgrown and less accessible.

“Huh… doesn’t seem like anyone’s been this far up in a while…”

When you thought about it, the stand with all the pamphlets was abandoned and dusty, the window broken. You just assumed they didn’t have the budget to fix it… but now you were second guessing yourself.

And that’s when a storm hit. Earlier that day you had heard something about a thunderstorm on the radio, but it was supposed to be that night, not now!

“Shit!”

You ran through the rain, slipping on mud and losing your way. The rain was so thick you could barely see in front of you. Tree branches scraped against your sides and caught on your clothes, ripping your sweater and scraping you up.

By the time you were finally able to take shelter in a nearby cave, you were absolutely drenched and covered in scratches and scrapes.

You slid down to the ground, panting and taking off your sweater, now heavy with water. It plopped against the ground, and you reached into your backpack.

“Fuck…”

Your phone had no signal, and you wouldn’t be able to go down the mountain to call anyone until the storm died down.

You yelped, jumping up from your seat and backing away from the entrance to the cave when lightning struck close by.

This sent you further into the cave, nearly tripping on the uneven, rocky ground.

Most would expect a cave out in the middle of nowhere to be cold and damp, and smell of moss and dust. Surprisingly, the further you traveled inside, the more… “cozy” it seemed.

It smelled almost like cinnamon and felt pleasantly warm. This made your shivering die down, your soaked clothes forgotten at the entrance of the cave.

Little did you know, you were slowly being lured in deeper by the inviting warmth and pleasant smell…

The first sign that something was wrong was a skittering that could be heard further into the cave. The hair on your neck stood up, but you tried your best to reason with yourself.

‘It’s probably just some rat or bug…’

But as your phone battery went out and darkness enveloped you without your only source of light, the noise got louder as whatever was making it approached.

You yelped when something brushed against you, and tried to scream, but your mouth was covered and something sunk into your neck…

Darkness.

——————

When you awoke, you felt something warm yet sticky enveloping you, keeping you from freezing while trapping you in place.

You were barely awake when you heard a purr like sound coming from the dark corner of the cave. A man’s face was barely visible within the shadows.

He was handsome, his eyes a dark red and hair a soft blonde, almost platinum color. It seemed he had been the one to trap you there.

“Hello, my dear. You’re finally awake…”

As soon as you were fully conscious, you began to struggle against your bonds, finally looking down to see what was keeping you from breaking free.

“Are those… webs..?”

You felt almost faint, staring down at the whitish, substance wrapped around you. It looked like thick, velvety ropes, but they were so sticky that you knew that they couldn’t be.

“Indeed.”

The man began to move forward, the same skittering sound appearing once more. You looked on in horror as his lower half was revealed.

Below his torso was not a set of legs like a normal, no, it was the abdomen of a spider.

‘The legend… is true?’

You had been captured by one of the spider people of myth…

“You must be scared… you’re just a human girl after all, and I’ve taken you away.”

He reached out, caressing your soft cheek with his hand. “But do not fear, I’m not planning on eating you, little one.”

His hand traveled down your face to your shoulder, his fingers playing with one of your bra straps.

“Far from it…”

Your cheeks heated up as he easily cut through your bra, his eyes on your now bare breasts.

“I’m in need of a mate to carry my eggs… and you’re the only woman that’s traveled to this mountain in ages…”

He breathed against your neck, licking the bite mark he left there earlier. “God, I could hardly hold myself back the moment I saw you. Such a plump, perfect woman, you’ll carry my eggs well…”

You whines as his lower half creates more webs, keeping you suspended in air, but freeing your soft cunt.

Quickly, he tore off your panties as well, growling lowly at the sight of your pretty, fat pussy. “Oh, my little mate, already this wet? Perhaps this was fate, for me to be sent this angel from above…”

He plunged a finger into you, pressing against your gummy walls and stretching you out as one of his spider legs nudged against your sensitive clit, just enough to stimulate you and get you to cum all over his fingers.

“There we go… such a good girl…” he purred into your ear, beginning to stroke his monstrous cock. He drew out several orgasms from you, prepping your virgin hole for him.

Within seconds, you were lowered down, your hips hovering over his as he nudged the head of his cock against you.

“Gods, you’re so soft…”

He kneaded your fat belly and thighs, purring in delight. “You’ll make such a good mother… you’ve got child bearing hips, like you were just meant to carry my eggs…”

Soft nips and nibbles were left on your neck and breasts.

“Every ten years, us driders go out to find a mate that’s suitable for us. I am the last of our kind, so there are no females left for me…”

He smiled, beginning to push in.

“But you… are not just going to be the woman that carries my eggs. You’ll be my mate, and I’ll cherish you.”

It was uncomfortable and painful, the way his cock stretched you out. You gritted your teeth and he cooed, but wouldn’t allow you to close your legs, two of his spider legs kept your thighs apart so he could sink deeper into your fat cunt.

“Shh, shh… it’ll feel good soon, my love…”

And he was right, his cock stretched you in such a delicious way, hitting all the right spots and making you cry out in pleasure.

He mounted you, fucking into your needy cunt as he groaned into your ear. “Gonna take my eggs, okay? My sweet girl, you’ll be such a good mommy won’t you?”

Suddenly you felt something push into you. Was that…

He was cumming, eggs filling up your pussy and settling into your womb. Soon your belly would swell as the eggs grew and developed, but for now, you were tired…

He kissed along your shoulders and neck, nuzzling into. Slowly, he lowered you down from the webs, curling up with you in a dark corner of the cave.

“You’ll be pampered, well taken care of… never again will you worry about a single thing…”

As you began to drift off to sleep, you realized that this creature truly thought you were beautiful… it made you happy.

So you snuggled into him, too full of cum and eggs to really even try escaping. Why would you?

You were loved… you felt truly beautiful for the first time in your life.

“I’ll prepare a cabin soon, there’s plenty of abandoned ones nearby. Wouldn’t want my mate to be uncomfortable.”

The way he nuzzled into you was filled with such love and care. He must have been lonely, being the last of his species.

So you decided to stay… at least for now…

Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~

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NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

[chaotic-neutral-knitter]

listen I love stede a lot - I think he's the bravest character in the show. he changes everyone he meets for the better. he embodies what I think of as the thesis of the show. if he wasn't the way that he is, the show would not be very good, imo.

but in ep one he gives his pirate crew notes on the raid they just did as though they were a community theater troupe and his notes were 1) complimenting his own opening speech as "very inspiring" and 2) complaining that that the crew wasn't sufficiently enthusiastic about robbing two poor fisherman of a single plant.

during the raid his narration went "some men are born to be pirate captains, others learn on the job. me? well I'm a pretty solid mix of both" as though he has any idea what he's doing.

and AFTER the raid Olu has to gently point out to him that piracy isn't a game to the rest of the crew.

There's a reason that Rhys Darby was the only person capable of playing Stede without making him seem like a total dick. And I think that's bc Rhys was able to convey the idea that Stede's behavior in the first few eps is coming out of this deep sense of insecurity - he's doing some Stede-y things (flag making! paying the crew! bedtime stories!) that are great but he's also pretending to be this macho pirate captain who totally knows what he's doing. And it's the pretending that makes people cringe with second hand embarrassment. While also, often, seeing themselves in it and feeling a great deal of sympathy for Stede about it.

The reason Stede is like this is because HE thinks there's something deeply wrong with him, a belief that has been solidified by everyone around him his entire life, and therefore he needs to do everything he can to hide that deeply wrong thing about him. When he unpacks that and embraces the things about himself he originally thought were embarrassing (being weak, pathetic, soft, etc), he can stop pretending. And that's when other characters grow to love him! And so people will sometimes call him cringe because they aspire to be cringe like him, to embrace the parts of themselves that they were punished for and live more authentically.

because he changes! that's the point! he moves from cringe (pretending to be someone he's not) to cringe (being true to himself, always a deeply vulnerable thing to be) and it takes a lot of hard work. that's what makes me LIKE him as a character. that's what I think makes him the bravest character on the show. because he doesn't start out perfect. he's a puppet who grows into a real boy and that means that for a period of time he was a puppet, and that's okay.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 122

In place of August Tenth, Promptapalooza 3/ Geralt and Jaskier are traveling through faewood. They can tell it's faewood because the trees glittered and sang about how much closer the two would be if they just told the truth. The woods went back to normal afterward but it was kind of a giveaway. Jaskier starts playing some mindless melodies on his lute as they walk, only for Geralt to suddenly snarl a bit and turn to look at him. "Can you stop playing, Jaskier? I can't hear my self loathing thoughts when you play." They both stare in shock at each other. "That's not what I meant to say." Geralt states, awkwardly. "Do you often think bad of yourself?..." "All the time." "Me too." Geralt frowns. Geralt is a monster. He's a witcher. He's killed so many. Jaskier is perfect. Jaskier is sweet and kind and lovely. What can he hate about himself? "Geralt, please don't ask-" "What do you think about?" They say at the same time. "You'll leave me. You hate me. You'll find me annoying. You'll find me too loud. You'll never love me as I love you. I love you, Geralt. So much. I desire nothing but your arms around me at night, a kiss between us, you telling me I'm worth something to y-" Jaskier slaps his hands over his mouth and glances away. The trees giggle, and Geralt almost wants to launch a sword into the canopies just to fix the horrified expression on his bard's face.

[itsmaferart]

Keep your hands off my woman!!

Leaving aside the most important part of the chapter, Yor must kiss her husband for world peace and the Twiyor nation to be happy.

I think it's a good message if we look deeper into how the stereotypical duality of women is portrayed to us, which I think is a message that can encompass anyone in general.

The most conventional romantic movies are usually about the man being - stereotypically - the strongest and the one who must protect the woman, who wins his sensitive heart and makes the hero bring out his sweetest feelings.

Becky being a little girl has in her heart the fantasy of a sweet romantic love just like the one in her novels and movies. But sometimes, people are not so conventional.

Both Anya and Yor, don't feel comfortable being pigeonholed into “girls waiting to be passively rescued”, because within themselves the love for the people around them is a drive to be strong, take action and save others.

I feel that one of Endo's best points, is her way of undertaking a concept of what femininity, or rather, “feminine energy”, represents. Feminine energy is a force that comes from feelings, it is fluctuating and unpredictable, sometimes like a gentle breeze and sometimes like a terrible hurricane.

Most of Endo's female characters are strong, independent women who do not need to be rescued. And they are very willing to put themselves in the face of danger to protect those they love. This is something we have seen, with characters like Yor, Sylvia, Martha, Fiona, and they have been able to save other men or take on subjects much larger and more muscular than them.

Even with girls like Anya who we know very well is a very brave girl and has been in the face of danger despite her age (maybe too much, our poor baby is only 4 to 5 years old, God), and has the strength to send a bully flying (and fall in love in the process) on the first day of school.

So …. if women are strong …. men are weak?

Absolutely not!

Everyone, regardless of gender, is strong. We know perfectly well that Twilight is someone capable of taking care of himself, is someone who is physically trained and has enormous intelligence. Even Yuri has survived so many dangers that we wonder how the hell he didn't die. Damian is a brave guy (when he doesn't see an insect lol).

The point is, even though women and men (or any gender in general) are strong. We all have our weaknesses, our sensitive sides.

You can do things on your own, but you don't have to do everything at once....

Clearly, although Yor is physically strong, she has problems with metal and verbal confrontations. Because her insecurities are so great that when they make her doubt herself and her own value, she tends to lose it and that is when Loid is there for her, not to take care of her because she is weak, but to remind her of her own value (because she doesn't seem to realize it herself) and to make her see that she is worthy of the understanding and love of others. In the same way that Yor reminds him that he too can be a little weak and take refuge in her.

Even if we feel weak and awkward, we can take initiative....

I think it is very important, the idea that Yor or anyone in general can have the “initiative” to seek on their own that “love” that you so desire.

Many times we feel that if we don't fit into the expected canon, or social archetype we are not worthy of love. (Feminine women who feel vulnerable and who depend on the guy to live are the ones who get love in the end). When nothing could be further from the truth….

Being weak and vulnerable is something totally natural and not exclusive to one gender or social role. We are all weak and strong at the core, and we need each other to complement each other and to be able to enjoy much more of our own love and the love we can give and receive from others.

Yor's desire to actively seek love (kissing her husband a lot) is not only a way to develop her bond with Loid, but a way to grow her self-esteem and challenge her insecurities. To stop seeing herself as a child in front of the world, but a woman who can get things because she wants them (and has her husband's consent, of course) (But, come on, we all know Loid needs kisses from Yor).

[stark-ironman]

We need more sub Hugh, give him some more of the lovin… Maybe he’s the insecure one, you’re a young up and coming singer/actress who has your entire future ahead of you and tons of other men and women your age who were dying to get a chance with you, he worries that you’ll tire of him in his old age

You assure him, of course, maybe suck him off in the process to remind him that he’s Hugh fucking Jackman and you’re the one who should be worried if anything and that you love him more than life ;)

You're All I Want

18+ No Minors

Warnings: jealously, oral (m recieving), deep throating

The crowd roars as you walk off the stage, the stage crew waiting to take off your in-ear monitors and microphone while Hugh walks up to you with a beaming smile. Your arms immediately wrap around his waist and he pulls you close, kissing the top of your head congradulating you on your show as he leads you towards the dressing room.

"I'm going to shower real quick and then we can head to the hotel." You say, kissing him softly and he goes to sit on the couch to wait. While you're in the shower, you hear a knock on the door and some chatter before the door shuts again but you don't pay any mind to it since it's normally your assistant bringing you some stuff the fans gave her.

You step out of the shower and walk out with a towel wrapped around you, smiling when you see Hugh but quickly furrow your brows when you notice he looks upset. "Everything okay?" You ask, snapping him out of his trance. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just spaced out for a moment." He gives you a short smile, looking at you while you get dressed.

"There was a delivery for you." Hugh says after some time, motioning towards the 2 dozen roses. A confused look comes across your face as you read the card and you quickly notice why Hugh's acting strange. "I have no idea who these could be from." You walk over to him, noticing he won't look you in your eyes. "Apparently it's from someone who has their eyes on you." His response carries a bit of jealously but also something else you can't quite put your finger on.

"Hugh, I love you and you're the only pair of eyes I care about being on me. You know that, right?" You try to hold his face but he shrugs it off, standing up quickly. "Let's go to the hotel. You need to rest after the show you put on." He grabs your bags and leads the way to the car, setting them in the trunk before opening the door for you then getting in the other side.

The ride to the hotel is quiet. You glance over at Hugh but he's staring at the road ahead, his jaw slightly clenched and you can't help but worry about why this is affecting him so bad. People send you gifts and flowers all the time. You always ignore the ones that have flirty messages written on them and Hugh knows that. Hell, the two of you has even poked fun at the men who try to flirt with you while knowing you're a taken woman.

Once to the hotel, Hugh carries your bags to your shared room and you quickly shut the door, locking it. "Hugh." Your voice is quiet but you know he heard it. "Need to get ready for bed, love." He says trying to walk past you to the bathroom but you stop him, placing your hands on his face to make him look at you.

"Please tell me what's wrong." You say, seeing his eyes turn from distant to sadness. His hands find your waist as he sighs, placing his head against yours. "It's stupid." He mumbles but you keep pushing for him to tell you. "It's just, seeing the roses tonight on top of all the messages and gifts you receive from men and women makes me feel like you could do so much better than me. I'm getting older and you have so much of life to experience. You don't need someone like me holding you back." His confession shocks you but you keep a hold of him, pecking his lips softly.

"You will never hold me back. I want to experience everything I'm going to experience, with you. I don't care about the people who send those gifts or messages because at the end of the day I get to come home to you. You're the only one I love and that will never change." You say, seeing the hesitation sweep across his face so you kiss him deeply.

"Take your clothes off." You lightly command, seeing his eyebrows raise so you repeat yourself, firmer this time and he starts taking his clothes off. "Lay on the bed." He does what you say as you remove your clothes, straddling his hips and kissing him deeply.

You move slowly down his body, trailing kisses and small bites all the way down his torso, sitting up slightly so you can look at him. "Why would I want anybody else when my man looks like a Greek God?" A soft moan leaves his lips and you move further down, grabbing his semi-hard cock in your hand.

"You've ruined me for any other person, baby. I only dream of you and your dick. Nobody else's," You lick a stripe up his base, watching him twitch, "Nobody could take care of me the way you do. You've spoiled me in every way possible." Your mouth wraps around his tip, taking him slowly in your mouth as a gasp leaves his.

Hugh's hands tangle through your hair, moving your hair while your tongue circles around his tip then pulling slightly as you bob your head, moving down his length. You finally fully take him, your nose pressed against his neatly trimmed hair before coming back up. He tries to push your head back down but you swat his hand away, wanting to be in control for just this once.

You start bobbing your head, hearing a string of curses leave Hugh's lips as his head falls back against the pillow. You keep one hand on his base and move the other to wrap around his balls, massaging them gently as you take him.

"Fuck, darling. You look so pretty down there." He moans, thrusting his hips slightly causing you to gag but neither one of you let up. You brace yourself and allow him to fuck your mouth for a few minutes before pulling off slightly, telling him to let you continue before placing your mouth back on him.

His moans become erratic as his body starts to tense up, a slew of curse words fall from his lips while you keep your quick pace. "I- I'm fixing to.. c-cum, darling." He warns but you don't let up, taking him fully back down your throat as his dick starts twitching, his release shooting ropes inside.

You let him ride out his release before removing your mouth with a pop, wiping the spit and hint of cum from around your mouth.

"Still question if I want you?" You ask with a smile, watching him chuckle as he pulls you to him, kissing you deeply and sliding his tongue past your lips to taste himself. "I'm not letting you go after that. I love you even more after that," He rolls on top of you, "Now let me show you why you love me so much."

[incandescentflower]

Things I like about No Gain No Love:

The female lead is sex positive and clear that good sex is important to her in a relationship. I haven't seen this kind of story since Love to Hate You in that sense - people recognizing that women get judged differently than men when it comes to romantic relationships. Sex is important to her, that's valid. Ji Uk says sex & love go hand and hand for him, also valid. Any judgment on screen is meant to discuss people's preconceptions and call them out. When it comes to that aspect of their relationship, it's never presented to be an intractable difference between them. He is never insecure or concerned about her sexual past.

A character is in a poly relationship. The drama addresses people's negative reactions to that kind of relationship and ultimately their discussion ends in understanding and support.

There's talk about abortion that's not judgmental. There are specific conversations about the fact that people who do not want children can become shitty parents and sometimes the best choice is to not be one. And also, even if you could be a good parent, it is still valid not to want to be one.

Really terrible parents are not being redeemed here. Their actions have real consequences and we see that in all the second generations hangups.

Sometimes parents are good people and still shitty parents. This I like in particular because Hae Yeong's feelings about her childhood are never invalidated, despite all these other characters feeling great warmth toward her mother. It's complicated and the narrative has allowed it to stay that way so far. I especially liked the comment that you can love someone, but not like them. The idea that sometimes you have parents who have hurt you enough that you don't have the same warm fuzzy feelings other people do, but you still love them, really speaks to me personally. It's not a nuance I have seen in dramas before.

Trolling on the internet is an action of harassment that causes suffering for the other person and people should be accountable for that. There are people behind the screen and those commenting should remember that. Gyu Hyun's reaction to Ja Yeon's smut is played as comedic at first, but his actions toward her are not. I appreciated that. This was something that definitely needed atonement. Whether or not he atoned enough is a little questionable to me, but I still appreciated the overall commentary.

Things I hope they address:

I'm hoping there is more reasoning for Ji Uk to not tell Hae Yeong that he was one of her mother's foster kids besides the negative feelings she has toward her mother fostering children. It's clear she's formed bonds with some of her foster siblings and it doesn't make sense for him to keep that from her. The drama has up until now really cared about character motivations so I hope this is a compelling reason and not just something to keep the drama going for later episodes.

I also don't understand why Ja Yeon has not specifically challenged Gyu Hyun's behavior in terms of the choices he is making in how he is treating Hae Yeong and Ji Uk. It's treated by both Ji Uk and Ja Yeon as kind of understandable and yes, he has this terrible parental pressure, but he still has choices. I'm sure that will be his redemption arc, but I don't understand why that's not happening now and why he still thinks what he is doing is fine. It makes it hard to enjoy any intended relationship development between Ja Yeon and Gyu Hyun.

Looking forward to the last two episodes. I'm glad they're coming out this week.

[sammyluvr]

only got eyes for you — sam winchester

cw : lawyer!sam x gn!reader, fluff, very light angst, reader has sort of low self-esteem, feelings of insecurity, alcohol consumption, reader gets a lil tipsy, very vague allusions to sex if you want it to be heh but definitely sfw, mentions of unwanted physical touch, 2.7K words. requested !

summary : you’re convinced no man, certainly not one like sam, the successful, kind, and handsome lawyer you meet at your hotel, could fall in love with you, but he’s only got eyes for you.

he’s a shining star. an angel halo, maybe. 

odd, because he looks just about the same as every other man in this overpriced luxury hotel bar. black suit, shiny hair, and an air of wealth and importance. and yes, he’s handsome. but he’s also beautiful. he’s beautiful and has kind eyes that tilt your whole perception of him. it just feels like… like he’s good, or something of that sort.

you’re sort of tipsy and you can’t stop staring at him.

you wonder at the concept of hotels as a liminal space. for you, this hotel is an in between. it’s a pause. it’s somewhere you’re not one hundred percent you, but not pretending to be someone else. and it’s supposed to be about you, in a way. it’s your reset button, your “slow down and take a deep breath.” and it’s certainly not supposed to be about gorgeous men.

it’s just that he’s magnetic. you can’t help staring at him and you can’t help but wallow in the bottom of your empty shot glass because it feels like everyone else in this room feels his magnetism just as well as you. or they just think he’s handsome as hell, which they wouldn’t be wrong about.

but you’re not supposed to be wallowing, especially not over a man who’ll never even look your way. you’ve seen three separate people offer to buy him a drink tonight, each one of them reminding you about what you can’t have. what you’ve never managed to have. and so, your pick-me-up treat of a vacation has turned right back into “i’m still convinced that no one will ever fall in love with me.”

all because you’ve been staring at a pretty man across the bar for just a little over an hour. in your defense, you’d like to remind the audience that you’re slightly tipsy. at first, as a treat to yourself. and at first, this man was a treat too, of the eye candy variety. 

now? you want him out of your sight… or in your hotel room bed. so, clearly feeling very logical, you keep looking.

⟢⟢⟢

sam doesn’t like the attention. sure, it’s very flattering to be offered so many free drinks and given plenty of flirty smiles. but the unwarranted touching, the paws on his elbow or shoulder or, god forbid, the bare skin of his hand… those he hates. he doesn’t like being stared at either. it feels ignorant and disrespectful, especially when it’s followed up with the sway of hips and poor flirting if said onlooker approaches.

and almost all of them are so… prissy, priviledged, and haughty. it’s not as if sam isn’t wealthy; he’s a successful civil law attorney working at a big firm. but he can’t stand people who’s money has gotten to their heads.

their stares are hungry, their touches an extention of the fact that they think they should get whatever they’d like for their five course dinner.

but there’s one stare, just one, that sam doesn’t mind. he’s not bothered by the fact that he can constantly feel your gaze on him. mostly because he can tell that you’re tipsy and not trying to stare as much as you are. you look away, embarrassed each time he glances in your direction.

you’re not shameless and you’re not looking to take. you’re just looking for the sake of it. 

sam thinks that your eyes seem kind and curious, even from where he’s sitting. and a little bit sad, for a reason he’s not privy to but would like to know, maybe even fix somehow. he supposes he’s privy to nothing about you except for the way you look, and the way you look at him. he thinks he’d at least like to know your name.

maybe he’ll see you in the bar again tomorrow night. or maybe he’ll never see you again at all. maybe you’ve been staying at this hotel for a month, and tonight is your last, as it is his first.

that means he has a choice. risk talking to you tonight or risk talking to you never. now sam isn’t bold and sam isn’t a flirt, but sam is certainly a lover, so he’ll take a chance.

⟢⟢⟢

you sigh when the pretty man stands, though you suppose it’s better for you that he leaves. only he doesn’t leave. he turns and looks at you. he turns and walks to you, a soft smile on his face.

on instinct, you tear your gaze away, playing with the empty shot glass in front of you. he must be looking at someone behind you. but you can see him out of the corner of your eye as he gets closer and he is not looking at someone behind you.

you look up and try to smile back, nervous.

“would, uh, would it be okay if i sat here?” he asks, hand resting on the back of the chair next to you. his voice is kind, and you were right; so are his eyes.

“sure,” you nod, voice a little quieter and breathier than you intended. you swallow and wonder how long it’ll take you to sober up as he settles into the chair beside you. he’s even more brilliant up close and you smile at him because you can’t help it. it feels like he deserves to be smiled at, though you’re not sure where that feeling comes from.

he smiles right back and says, “thank you… can i ask your name?”

and that strikes you; he asks “can i…” and “would it be okay if…” and makes his intentions clear without overdoing it. you hesitate. are men like him real? he’s bound to have flaws, of course. but he’s a man, so you feel like he’s bound to be horrible in some way or another. and you have trouble believing that his interest in you is anything, certainly not after seeing all of the beautiful people who have approached him first and been turned down.

then your tipsy mind thinks fuck it, because you’re only here for four more days and you’re here for yourself and frankly, you’re here because constantly being stinted in love and attention is getting to you. and here is a beautiful man who’s giving you his attention over at least three other rich and gorgeous people. so you come to the conclusion that you should let it happen. see where it goes, tell him your name and ask for his. 

letting attractive men flirt with you should definitely count as living for yourself. it’d be a crime to deprive yourself of listening to his rich voice and seeing his kind eyes, which are hazel up close. already, you guess that they change color depending on the light or the shirt that he’s wearing.

so indeed, you tell him your name.

“nice to meet you,” he smiles, “i’m sam.” now, sam notices your hesitance at first. it worries him for a second, and he thinks he’s maybe making you uncomfortable. but your gaze shifts and your voice sounds at ease, maybe even a little bit pleased to answer him.

“it’s nice to meet you too,” you say, hoping you sound as sincere in those words as you feel.

as far as first meetings go, sam is stellar. he’s a lawyer, and though he’s humble about it, you can easily tell that he’s successful. he’s here partially for a small vacation, but mostly to check out a new firm. he’s looking to move to a new city too, somewhere that needs better immigration lawyers. clearly, he wants to help, and from what you can presume, he’s succeeding on that front. he’s here for just two more full days, and likes classic literature.

but he doesn’t just talk about himself. he asks about you like he really wants to know. and his face just lights up when you tell him that you live in boston. that’s the top of his list right now for new cities, he visited a month ago and thinks he might love to live there. so you run your mouth a little bit, giving him all of the ups and downs of living there. mostly the ups. you want him to like it, you want to sell it to him. how silly is it to hope that he moves there?

he offers to buy you another drink too, but you wave him off politely. it makes him laugh a little when you admit that you’re already a bit tipsy and don’t think that you should drink anymore.

“of course,” he nods, so respectful by nature. he wonders how silly it is to add you to the list of reasons to move to boston. sam finds you to be completely lovely. you’re just as respectful as him and it makes you happy when he tells you he likes your city.

tomorrow is the day that sam focuses on the work side of things. but thursday is for exploring the city, he tells you.

“i, uh, i know that you’re here for a solo trip, but, um… if you’re willing, i’d love to see some of the city with you,” he suggests. you like that he’s not perfectly smooth all of the time. he’s even a bit awkward. it’s endearing and helps you relax around him. 

“i’d… love that too,” you say, letting a wide smile stretch across your features. it feels a little bit too good to be true, but you can’t help but wonder if this is just things finally going your way, even if it only lasts a day or two.

“great,” he grins back. “let me give you my number so we can plan something.” you nod, pleased at those words. you’ll have his number. if you ever feel bold enough, you can text him. if he likes you enough, he might text you first. if he moves to boston, maybe he’ll tell you. then you can offer to show him around a little more or bring him a housewarming gift and maybe bring him to your favorite coffee shop.

then you remember you’re supposed to be pulling out your phone for him. you reach for your pocket to find it empty.

“oh, right,” you mutter to yourself. “how about i give you mine. i, uh, left my phone in my room to get away from it for a bit.”

he raises his eyebrows. “impressive,” he jokes. “i respect that. i’d kill to get away from mine for even a little while.” he pulls his phone out and opens up a new contact before handing it to you. you type in your number and full name as he talks. “most people working in law don’t know what work-life balance means.”

that pulls a small laugh from you. “i can only imagine,” you chuckle. you hand him back his phone and talk a while more, trying to hide just how giddy you feel about him and all of this.

you glance behind you to check the time on the clock. it’s late. as you turn back to sam, you catch someone’s gaze. she’s glaring at you, unabashed. you furrow your eyebrows and look away, confused for a moment. then you register her to be one of the people who had approached sam earlier and you frown. she’s stunning, well dressed, and certainly far more wealthy than you. overall a better technical fit for sam.

with some saving up, your job pays well enough for you to afford this nice hotel, but you’re just not on the same level as most people here. you know logically that it’s no reason for you to think of yourself as less than or not good enough for sam, but your deep-seated insecurities about romance resurface.

sam notices the change in your demeanor. not just your expression, but your whole body language shifts. you seem uncomfortable next to him, uncomfortable in here. the flick of your eyes anywhere but his face and the tug of your lips read as insecure. he glances back to where you’d looked, and he too catches the glare of the woman behind you. she sends him a suggestive look before returning to glaring daggers at your back.

he scoffs and looks away without giving her anything at all.

“don’t mind her,” he says, voice soft and annoyed all at once. you look at him, surprised that he noticed. he looks sort of pissed, but he smiles at you. “she tried to give me her number earlier,” he explains, despite knowing that you most likely saw with the way you were watching him. “i said no. i wanted your number, not hers.” sam’s confident when he tells you this, and your heart just about melts.

how can someone who barely knows you at all know just what to say? how can someone stare the things that scare you in the face and say “i’m here too now” without even knowing what it is that you’re afraid of? how can it take a single night for someone to say that and you just let them because it was said with so much purpose and respect? how can you know someone for just a few hours and just feel like you can trust them?

you have no answers, but you wonder because that’s exactly what’s happening.

you smile at him and nod. “good thing, then.”

⟢⟢⟢

sam is very good at loving, very good at making one feel loved. and that’s something you get even before he really loves you.

like when you see each other in the lobby the morning after you meet and he smiles brightly and walks right over to you with a wave. he wears a knee length brown coat over his black suit and it looks beyond charming. then he asks if he can buy you a drink that evening if you’ll be in the hotel at the time. you accept with a smile and he looks happier than you to be the one to treat you.

you make your plans for the next day in the hotel bar, and nobody asks sam for his number that night.

and the next day is a total date, even though you don’t call it that yet. his fancy, environmentally friendly car is brought out by the valet service and he drives you everywhere. to the museum and the down-to-earth, homey sandwich shop that you eat lunch at. you both have reciprocal museum memberships that get you in free. he actually pays close attention to the museum exhibit, but he pays more attention to you and what you like about it. you swap halves of your sandwiches because you both were interested in the same two.

in the afternoon, he takes you to the gardens that you wanted to visit and tells you he’s glad to have you around since he wouldn’t have known where to go.

then, sam drives you back to the hotel and tells you to text if you don’t want to eat dinner alone. “otherwise, this is goodbye, for now,” he says. so you say right then and there that you’d rather not eat dinner alone as long as he doesn’t want to either.

you’re tired from the afternoon sun, so you meet at the hotel restaurant. you stay for dessert, you stay for a glass of wine. you head to the bar and he has a single beer. you decide a zero-proof is best for tonight, and he gladly pays for that too.

he invites you to his suite in the most gentlemanly, respectful way possible, and tells you that nothing has to happen. you accept the invitation, feeling better than you have in a long, long time. sam makes you feel good.

in the morning sam kisses your cheek, a little shy about it, before he leaves and he promises to text. he tells you he likes this city, but he still likes boston more.

he sticks to his promise to text, maybe not as well as he’d like, but he’s a busy man. and what he has to give is more than enough for you.

it’s such a joy when he calls. it’s an absolute delight when he tells you that he’s decided to move to boston. little do you know, one day you’ll move into his apartment there. for now, you’re sitting in your favorite cafe with him, showing him around like you promised you would over the phone.

sam does an excellent job of making you feel loved.

[darkwood-sleddog]

Finding myself reflecting on what is often the public’s incorrect understanding of mine and Sigurd’s relationship.

So many people (often cis men) see me with a big, often excited dog and love to talk down to me because they perceive the situation as less controlled or “under one’s thumb” as they expect/desire their own dogs to be (which is often complete shut down control).

In reality Sigurd is the most difficult dog I own. He is aloof, incredibly intelligent, very low biddability, and requires a very specific and curated relationship to do ANYTHING for you. He knows his size and he is in excellent shape. If he wanted to truly drag me and do what he wanted on a walk he would. He does to anybody that’s not me, including Mr D who he will often nip and manipulate to get his way. I am the only one that’s ever been able to get this dog to do work in my hands, be it sports or obedience. These men that negatively “joke” on my lack of control while my dog stands by my side and listens when I hold him back from his excitement would have no idea what to do with him. He would baffle them.

[britishbiscuits]

The Narrator was feeling insecure of his tummy

Stanley to the rescue

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[stheresya]

lol at lb being a heathcliff anti as if mal and alina's relationship isn't just a piss poor version of catherine & heathcliff's all consuming love

[nicoscheer]

IM SORRY WHAT

I had to add this clip from the video of them cooking together

The post

Tom posted that story on the 25/01/2024 with the words on the statue and the title of the post literally being “the world is yours”

(So maybe Miles’ ring is reminiscent of his favorite actor Al Pacino)

[seaweedstarshine]

This part was like half a year ago — but it's still cute that Forge and Ororo were both thinking of each other at almost exactly the same time—

—I love the fact that they agree on what the problem was in their relationship. I see fun things in the future for the reagent and the tinkerer—

—I have unreasonably high hopes they're gonna cross paths and do something interesting in the Black Panther arc in X-Force.

[theboarsbride]

finally Friday....can turn my brain off...gonna think of sir John and bear wife yknow, as a treat HEEHEEEE........😩

[raekiez]

Snake and Otacon in my post mgs4 hcs/au :)