#Like women are attractive but if she's like bigger than me

[narcissusneverknewme]

I am not immune to the same fallacies and failures of judgement my fellow men are subject to. I am superior to them because I am More right than they are though

[dourpeep]

Ndkskkdjdn

Don't mind me just using the tags as Tumblr intended

[oizysian]

22 // Masquerade // On The Inside

Summary: Wanda is an undercover cop who does some things she wouldn’t expect while in prison.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: forced kissing, pussy eating, dirty cop

Word count: 1.1k

Kinktober masterlist

Wanda’s POV:

I had never been in trouble in my life, but now I was in prison as an undercover cop, and it was terrifying. I had to pretend to be tough and brave, which I was normally, but being in an unfamiliar situation put me off my game, and this wasn’t exactly the best situation to be in. All I had to do was watch and possibly extract information from one of the inmates, but I was barely here a whole week and I was being harassed - and I had to do my best to not act like a cop.

I tried to stand my ground, but these women were in here for a reason and without authority, I was outnumbered and outgunned.

I was a new inmate - fresh meat, and they made it very obvious that they were all very hungry.

I was cornered by two bigger women; pushing me around, touching me and I knew I was in deep.

“Back off.” I growled and one of them grabbed me, pushing me up against a nearby wall.

“Hey.” A voice called out.

A girl with a scar on her eyebrow and deep, dark eyes walked up to us, interrupting the woman’s assault on me.

“That one’s mine.”

The woman swirled around and laughed, letting me go and turning her attention to this other girl.

“Yeah, pipsqueak? Says who?”

“Says me. Just ask the last bitch that thought she could take something that belonged to me.”

The woman looked from the girl to her accomplice, and from the look on her face, let me go. I fell back against the wall and gritted my teeth, knowing I couldn’t do anything to blow my cover.

“Get lost.”

The two women scurried off and I was left alone with the girl who said she owns me.

“I don’t know if I should be thanking you or not.” I said softly, standing tall to appear less meek.

“You should.” She walked up to me and closed the distance between us, pressing her lips to mine and shoving her tongue nearly down my throat.

I put my hands up to her chest and pushed, huffing angrily. She smiled and wiped my spit off her mouth, winking at me.

“That’s just a taste. Wait until tonight.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about it? I’ve been ready for it since I first saw you. It’ll be easier for us both if you just let it happen.”

I did my best to make myself look bigger and scarier than I was, but she just laughed and looked amused.

“Cute. But remember, if it’s not me, it’ll be someone else.” She looked around and nodded her head at me. “Not sure if the other broads around here will be as gentle as I will.”

Something about this girl was alluring and attractive, but this was an insane notion. I couldn’t just be used and passed around like that … right?

“It’s a madhouse in here. If you have nothing to offer,” she gestured to my body. “They’ll take something else. You need protection and I’m offering my services.”

“For what in return?”

She smirked.

“You know what.”

I frowned. Maybe it would be beneficial to team up with this girl. Teaming up was so much more different than what I would be doing, but it was the best way to describe it.

“Okay.” I whispered and she tilted her head at me in confusion.

“Okay?”

I nodded.

“I’ll sleep with you.”

“It was that easy?”

“It was that easy.”

“C’mon.” She took my hand and led me down the hallway towards the laundry room, where she led us in and then closed the door behind us. “Nice and cushioned.”

She sat on and pat a pile of sheets and I took that as an invitation, sitting next to her awkwardly.

“How often do you do this?” I asked meekly and she snorted.

“Never. I’m all talk.” She leaned back onto the sheets and looked up at the ceiling. “Make sure to make some sexy noises so the others think I’m fucking you good.”

I stared at her for a moment before taking her hand, smiling slightly at her.

“I really appreciate this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She swatted my hand away from hers and I shook my head, smiling. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to use me for other things too, y’know.”

“Yeah?” I smirked, picking up her playful tone.

“Yeah.” She looked over at me and I bit my lip.

“I’ve never been with a woman before.”

“No?” She sat up. “I’ve only been with girls.”

“Are you a lesbian?”

“I don’t like labels.”

She sighed and I watched her face, her expressions saying more than her words.

“You wanna try it out? No strings attached?”

“None?”

She shook her head. “None.”

I leaned forward and tentatively brushed my lips against hers, testing the feel of her lips against mine. Her lips were soft and surprisingly sweet and I obviously took her by surprise because she didn’t respond right away. After a moment, she responded in full, kissing me hard.

“You wanna …” she whispered against my lips and I hung on her every word. “You wanna ride my face?”

I blinked at her bluntness and nodded. I pulled off my pants and underwear and climbed her body, sitting on top of her as she grabbed my thighs and guided me down onto her face.

Her tongue was strong and soft as she explored my wetness, and I could feel my legs shaking as she fucked me. She was definitely good at what she did. I braced myself on the laundry cart in front of me and bit my lip, my hips rolling in time with the movements of her tongue.

I had never felt like this with a man, or even with myself. I couldn’t believe this was even happening. What got into me?

My brow furrowed as her tongue found my clit, swirling circles on it and flicking at it teasingly. I was losing my mind. One hand grabbed at her hair and pushed her face against me, the other still attempting to balance myself.

“Oh, fuck!” I cried as I came, my whole body tightening then releasing all of its tension at once.

I could hear her hum, satisfied, from under me as I got up and crawled off of her.

“Guess it was as good for you as it was for me.” She joked and I smiled shyly.

“I can’t believe I did that. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I can tell. Little miss straight laced.”

“Shut up.” I laughed as I got redressed.

“Make me.”

Who knew I’d enjoy myself more as a criminal than as a cop?

[barcaatthemoon]

turned on || alexia putellas x reader ||

a night out forces you and alexia to finally do something about your obvious attraction to one another.

alexia was awkward. you had known that long before you'd ever met the woman. the two of you were respective superstars for your countries, both the faces of your women's leagues. the news of the famed (y/n) (y/l/n) going from bayern to barcelona had shaken up the european football world. however, the events that would follow would do so once again, perhaps to a bigger magnitude.

you had been at bayern since their youth academy. there had never been another club for you, not even for a loan. however, when your contract with bayern ended, you had decided to look elsewhere. you loved the team, and the things that everybody was doing together, but you wanted a change.

barcelona had come knocking on your door the loudest. they were willing to shell out a lot of money, nearly three times as much as your old club. it wasn't just about the money, but you had to admit that it had a nice ring to it. there were things that you could do with this money that you felt would benefit your community much more than you just scoring a few goals during your games.

your first few months in spain had been difficult. you weren't exactly conversational in spanish, nor were you all that great with english. your teammates were patient with you, especially frido, ingrid, and caro. they were like your lifelines, none of them ever leaving you completely alone at training. unfortunately for you, they were all around enough to notice the way that you and alexia stared at each other.

"hmm, that's a very interesting shirt choice. it looks oddly familiar," frido teased as she grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt. you didn't give her little comment the decency of a response. yes, you had picked this outfit out because the last couple of times that you had worn it, alexia hadn't been able to take her eyes off of you.

"i think that our captain will like it. although, i'm not sure she'll appreciate the attention you'll get from it," ingrid said. you blushed a little as you turned away from them to finish getting ready. you had done your makeup a little bit edgier than normal. alexia seemed to like the darker look on you, at least that was what mapi had told you.

you checked over your outfit one more time before you followed your friends out of ingrid's room. mapi was flexing in the mirror, something that had both you and ingrid laughing at her. mapi ignored the two of you and continued, much to aitana's annoyace.

"let's go." frido wrangled everybody into her car, letting you have the passenger's seat. you were still getting used to things like the famous spanish affection and lack of personal space. befriending mapi through ingrid was a big help, but you were still even more awkward than caro in most situations.

at the club, you were immediately whisked away to the bar with pina, cata, and patri. they fed you shot after shot, which you enjoyed until alexia, irene, marta, and sandra pulled your group back from the bar. irene had been the one to grab you, but you didn't let that last for long. with some difficulty, you put yourself in alexia's grasp, allowing for pina to scurry off towards the dance floor.

"hi, oh wait, hola!" your accent was normally bad, but tonight, it was atrocious. alexia cracked a small smile at your accent. you returned it tenfold, absolutely beaming at her. "you are so beautiful. do you like my outfit? i wore it just for you."

"o-oh?" alexia questioned. her voice had cracked, something that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "you look very nice, but you shouldn't dress for other people. dress for you, i'd like any outfit you wore."

"that's not the point. i want you to take me home. i need to impress if you're gonna do that." you were slurring your words pretty badly, and alexia wondered how long you had been feeling like that. she wasn't going to get her answer though, not when you were whisked off towards the dance floor.

alexia didn't see you for nearly the entire night after that. you had been moving around enough to sober up quite a bit. alexia noticed that you didn't sway on your feet when you came over to where she was sitting. however, there was still just enough liquid courage for you to let alexia know that you wanted to dance with her.

"i think we should dance. you've been sitting here all night. even irene got up at least once." if it had been anybody else, alexia never would have even really considered moving. however, it was you, and unbeknownst to you, alexia had developed quite the soft spot for you.

at first, she told herself that she wanted to take care of you because you were younger than her and in a new country. however, much to alexia's annoyance, mapi pointed out several times that alexia's gazes towards you were never friendly. alexia thought that she was good at masking her feelings, but mapi was one of the few people in the world who could see right through her. it took a while, but alexia had finally admitted to herself, and an eerily excited mapi, her feelings for you.

"i'm not much of a dancer," alexia warned you. she had never been a good dancer, especially not sober. you weren't a professional or anything, but you were fairly decent in the scheme of things.

"it's fine, i'll take the lead." your words didn't exactly make alexia feel much better, but once the two of you were on the dance floor, she didn't do much thinking. you were just sober enough to know that this wasn't something that alexia normally would have agreed to so easily. you'd been around the team long enough to know that alexia rarely ever left the booth or table whenever the team went out.

"a-are you sure that this is okay?" alexia asked as you placed her hands on your waist. normally whenever you'd dance with the other girls, their hands were glued to your hips. it was a far less intimate hold, but your body craved a bit of intimacy, specifically from alexia.

"shh, don't think about it. just feel the music and move with me," you told her. it was fine for the first couple of songs, but then things slowed down dramatically. alexia's hands stayed right where you had placed them, but you weren't prepared to feel the press of her body against yours.

for someone who wasn't spanish, you were teased a lot for being touchy. it was always in good jest, and because of that, you often forgot how handsy your teammates could get. alexia was no exception, despite being the most reserved with her affections. you realized in that moment that alexia wasn't unaffectionate at all, she was just picky. tonight, it seemed that she had picked you.

"can i have one more dance?" alexia asked as she rested her chin against your shoulder. her face was partially buried in the side of your neck. alexia's breath tickled against your skin, something she couldn't have known would have you turning red in the face like it was. "please, i'm having fun with you. i don't want it to end just yet."

"i think i can handle one more." it was a total lie, but you didn't know it yet. the next song was more upbeat than the last, but alexia didn't move any further away from her. you could feel her hips press against your ass with each movement that she made. alexia was dancing with you like before, only closer now. it was reminscent of something that you hadn't experienced in quite some time.

alexia kept her hands around you even after the song had ended. the two of you made your way towards the booth, where several of your teammates were not sitting as well. alexia sat down first, and without hesitation, pulled you into her lap. they all quieted down at the sight of you, but neither you nor alexia missed the looks on their faces.

"problem?" alexia asked. her arm was snaked protectively around your waist, and as patri moved in closer, alexia's arm tightened. she had already been holding you tightly, but the addition of force managed to pull a squeak from you that unfortunately did not go unheard by anybody.

"the free show was nice, even if this isn't that kind of club," patri teased as she tapped on the tip of your nose. you swatted her hand away as you cursed at her in german. frido and ingrid's faces went red at your words, but they didn't let patri in on what you had said.

"what is that supposed to mean?" alexia asked.

"are you so oblivious that you don't see how turned on (y/n) is with her on your lap, capi? i mean, look at her. it's a shock that she's not squirming," cata pointed out. you grumbled as you tried to hide your hands. alexia looked at you questioningly, and when you refused to meet her gaze, she realized that there was a lot of truth to their words.

"you, uh… you… i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you… i mean…" alexia stumbled through her words unlike anything you had ever seen before. the girls at the table laughed at her, which made a bit of anger flare up inside of you.

"hey, it's okay. you didn't know," you said sweetly. alexia bit her lip as you turned in her lap and cupped her cheeks. "i asked you to dance with me. besides this isn't anything that won't pass eventually."

"aren't you embarrassed?" alexia asked. she looked really guilty, and you wanted to kiss the pout off of her lip.

"it's fine, ale. if you really feel bad, you can buy me breakfast or something tomorrow morning," you told her. alexia looked confused for a moment before the cheering and hollering of your teammates clued her in. with that, she quickly stood up and walked you out of the club and away from them. you both knew alexia wouldn't just sleep with you, but you were surprised when she let you come over and stay the night with her anyway.

[spookykoolkat]

tattoo shop - e.m. blurb

main masterlist

an : something i was thinking about bc eddie obviously loves bigger women. should i turn this into a short story? :p

let me know! i love feedback <3

wc: less than 1k? maybe 1k? idk i didnt count LOL

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

the thing about eddie is that he noticed he'd only ever have crushes on bigger women. it started in high school, when he had a crush on one his literature teacher. she was full, round hips and thighs that forced the fabric of her pencil skirts to stretch, and the outline of the buldge of her tummy. eddie could tell she would wear things to flatten her figure out, and struggled not to be that one weird student and comment on her body.

maybe it's milfs. maybe it's older women you were attracted to.

well, he leaned that way for a while. until he started his new job as a tattoo apprentice. you worked there, not chosen with talent or skills to actually tattoo pieces of artwork on bodies, or pierce flesh with needles all day. you settled for doodling at the front desk of the tattoo shop, and eddie managed to watch your every move.

you dressed in tight tops and baggy pants, always hanging off of your thick hips enough to show the hemline of your boxer briefs you wore. somehow you managed to look feminine while masculine at the same time.

you noticed him staring, but being too shy to say anything to the shaggy haired metalhead, you kept your distance and gave small, blushing smiles to him. he took it.

he didn't think he'd go from getting small smiles from you to bending you over his dining table at his place after a party he threw. but he did. eddie came on to you, told you how sexy you looked that night, asked if it was weird working at a tattoo shop with zero tattoos. that's when you asked him, who said i didn't have tattoos?

eddie quickly found out that you did. and you had a lot. they were littered over your stomach, your thighs and shoulders. how he managed to never see them was shocking, but what became even more shocking was when you accepted his flirty invitation.

i have to see it to believe it, sweetheart.

so, the house emptied towards the night, not a single person in sight besides you and eddie. you were in eddie's kitchen cleaning up solo cups and alcoholic residue when he walked in, thick with silence. he was watching you from behind, bending over his counter slightly to scrub away the stickiness.

"you don't have to do that, honey," eddie said as he walked toward you.

you stopped scrubbing with the rag, and faced him with the small of your back digging into the counter. "i know. just, felt like i should." you blushed, feeling heat rush to your cheeks from the mix of alcohol and embarrassment.

"you're a sweet girl, you know that?" eddie said with a cheeky smile, moving to stand in front of you as you stayed put.

"you don't have to compliment me," you said and averted your gaze. it was enough you had the epitome of your dream man standing in front of you, but he had to call you a sweet girl too?

"why wouldn't i compliment you? i think you're a real pretty girl. a real pretty girl who i didn't know had tattoos." he said with a smile, easing your nerves with a small joke and you felt yourself melt.

"they're just hidden. a surprise for whoever gets to see me with my clothes off." you admit and your face heats up even more, making eddie take a few steps closer to you.

"those lucky fuckers." he breathed, somehow closer than you remembered. close enough for his hand to ghost yours, and move to your hip.

"mm, don't know how lucky they really were if they never talked to me again afterwards," you said with a soft chuckle. he scoffed, moving closer and placing both his hands on the curve of your hips. you let him, the feeling of his large hands squeezing the parts of you that you hated.

"psh, you'd might need to get a restraining order on me if i ever saw these tattoos of yours," maybe he should've said something less forward, but the silence that rang through the house was so defining — he had you alone.

still, you played dumb. not necessarily dumb, you just wanted to hear him say it. "why would i get a restraining order on you?" you laughed. your hands instinctively rested against his abdomen as he brought himself closer.

"don't think i could ever leave you the fuck alone even if my life depended on it."

"eddie," you warned, as if you felt he was unsure about what he truly wanted, "you don't want me, i know you're acting like it but, that's not true,"

it came out weak, sad and almost insecure until eddie moved his hands up your curves, over the rolls of your back, and grabbing you with your cheeks in his palms.

"i don't really think you can tell me how to feel, isn't that right? i think i'm allowed to want whoever i want." he said confidently and your eyes went wide, doe like as if you were struck with the most impossible words you'd ever heard.

"you want me?" you squeaked, your voice not cooperating with you.

"will you let me have you, pretty girl?"

[boltwrites]

NEED to know what happens when logan meets your parents for the first time - does he flirt w/ your mom? What do they think about the age gap? Does your dad like him or is he all "nobody's good enough for my princess😤" do they know you're mutants? Giving you full creative freedom to do as you please just give it to me 😭😭

A/N: ok, so since you've given me creative freedom, we have: 20s-ish mutant fem!reader who teaches at the mansion on 10005, old man worst wolverine!logan, the two of you met after the events of dp3 and the relationship progressed from there.

also. this shit has been giving me so many problems. i was really trying to write typical white-picket fence, suburban sitcom-style parents, but honestly? i don't know dick about those type of parents. so you get these assholes instead.

this may actually be one of the worst things i've ever written. i might add a part two at some point, but really i just think this is horrible and want it out of my sight lmao. so here you go.

Your palms were sweaty, your heart racing, as you reached for the doorknob to your childhood home, Logan standing to your side. The last time you'd brought a boy home (and he had been a boy) things hadn't ended well.

Your dad was a traditionalist, you see, and your mom - well, she wasn't one to judge your choices, but you could tell that sometimes when you told her about your love interests, she was holding in laughter. But your dad - he was very vocal about the expectations he had for your partners. He'd never treated you like some kind of princess or prize - oh no. he was a man who saw his children as students of his own knowledge. No matter what your gender, he had taught you how to trim a tree, change a tire, wire a light switch, cook a filling meal - the basics of owning a home and keeping it put together.

Because of that, your parents hadn't often approved of your previous boyfriends. In high school, you'd been too frightened to bring them home. You'd only attended a traditional public school for your freshman year, and the rest of your time spent at Xavier's you'd been far too worried about your dates accidentally exposing themselves as mutants to justify introducing them to your parents. They weren't anti-mutant, per-say... but they certainly weren't supportive, and you didn't want to put even your prom date through that.

As you grew older (graduated college, was hired on as a teacher at the mansion instead of a simple student), you came to understand the reasons why your parents were so discerning as to your choice in men. Your mother's stoic judgment wasn't meant to be mean - she just wanted you to choose a man for more than just superficial attraction, to think of the bigger picture. Which, you'd been blissfully unaware of, as a teen. Your father's traditionalism wasn't rooted in outdated gender norms - it was simply connected to the fact that he wanted your partner to be able to support both you and your household in a significant way. That's why he was always harping on picking a "real man" - not some newfound conservative bullshit, but the simple understanding that sometimes men tried to do the bare minimum, and that he knew you deserved so much more.

And Logan, well. He could certainly support you. He was unlike any man you'd ever dated. He didn't have any social media you had to worry about - no feed or "for you" page filled with scantily clad women and sexist messaging disguised as finance advice - only a stupid flip phone he refused to text you on. He was helpful, attentive, affectionate - even despite the trauma you'd both experienced as mutants. You understood that his struggled has affected him far more than your had, that he still needed to heal - and even though that strained your relationship at times, you knew he cared, knew he tried - so you fought for it. That was something you couldn't say about your previous boyfriends.

Plus, you knew he could handle your weirdass parents.

"Nervous?" He'd asked you, when you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You'd given him a side-eyed look as you posed the concept, like you were giving him an out to decline.

"I mean, kind of?" You responded, hesitant. All he did was chuckle, smirking at you.

"What, am I gonna pull up to your dad cleaning his shotgun in the garage?"

"Honestly? Maybe, but that's not what I'm worried about," you admitted, fidgeting. "It's... it's hard to explain. I guess the closest thing is that they're - funny? Like - they'll make fun of you. My dad - he makes all of these horrible inappropriate jokes, like, all the time, and my mom is just really sarcastic, and she seems super judgmental because of it, but really, she's just being funny."

Logan just looked at you, one eyebrow raised. "

What?" You asked. You'd expected more from him. But he just snorted.

"Babe, I've been stuck in the void with Wade-fucking-Wilson. I'm not scared of your parents."

So, you took a breath, offered Logan one last "brace yourself-" and pushed open the door. Immediately you were met with the smell of something cooking - you recognized it immediately as one of your dad's signature dishes, sizzling on the stove.

"Hey, we're here!" You called out, you tried to usher Logan in and up the stairs of your split-level, but he insisted on closing the door behind you - and the shitty screen door that had been around since before you were born made a horrible shaking, scraping metal sound as it bounced along the concrete of your porch. Ah, the sound of home.

"Hey, you!" Your dad called, poking his head out of the kitchen. "What're you- hey, ho! Who's this?" He gestured to Logan with the spatula in his hand, and your face immediately reddened.

"Dad, this is Logan."

"Hey," Logan nodded in greeting, and your dad made a little shocked noise.

"Logan? Who's Logan?"

"Jesus Christ-" you huffed it under your breath, and Logan tried to stifle a chuckle. "He's my boyfriend, remember?"

"Boyfriend?" Your dad's voice pitched higher. "That motherfucker looks older than me!"

Well. There was your dad getting right to the point, as per usual.

"I am," Logan replied, and you fucking elbowed him in the ribs.

"No mutant shit - they don't know," you hissed a reminder, and he rolled his eyes.

"Hey - you see this guy, Nikki?" Your dad called to the dining room.

Your mom sighed - unlike your dad, she had some kind of decorum, and had the decency to shoot him daggers before she met you and Logan at the top of the steps.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan," she greeted him - you could tell that she was fighting the all consuming urge to shoot you a look or make a joke about this whole thing. She was trying so hard. It was like that scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit with the shave and a haircut song.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Since you're clearly old enough-"

It was like some demon forced her to spit out that line. You snorted, had to shake your head. This was a mistake.

"What do you have?" Logan asked instead, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, smirking at the whole situation. It was like he lived to see you embarrassed.

"Water, coke, iced tea -" she listed off.

"My dad's shitty beer," you added, and Logan's brow raised.

"Hey! Busch is good beer!"

"No the fuck it is not," you replied, because he didn't even drink the light stuff.

"I don't care, I'll take the beer," Logan cut in, and your dad wagged a finger at him.

"Yeah! I'll get you one - it's good shit, man. Somebody watch the stove."

Oh good lord. There he goes. Logan shot you a look - lip quirked into a little smile, before your dad clapped him on the shoulder and hauled him towards the stairs.

That just left you. And your mom.

She looked at you. You looked at her.

"Well?" you asked, stepping up to take your dad's place at the stove to watch the food. Your mom shrugged in response.

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to ask me about him - make some weird comment about his age? I mean - now would be the time," you hedged. You just hated this weird aura surrounding you all. How it felt like she had so many questions to ask, but was holding them all back.

"Obviously I can tell he's old," your mom replied. "It's not really a discussion. Is there something we do need to talk about?"

You knew what she meant. Were you safe with him? Were you happy? Did you bring him here to meet them because you needed help, not because you wanted to share your happiness with them?

Some people might find that sort of implication unthinkable, or rude to address - but you knew your mom. She watched a lot of true crime. She just cared about you.

"No," you replied, with a sigh. "I-I really like him. He's a good man. He actually - he knows how to be a man, if you know what I mean. How to take care of himself. I don't know - I didn't realize how important that was until I met him."

You mom nodded. Her arms were crossed, and she wore her typical resting bitch face, but you could tell she understood what you meant.

"Well. Hopefully your father doesn't shoot him."

[soulc-hilde]

Hiiii could you do a chubby reader with like 1999-2000s em and like how the media would react to him being with a girl that's bigger than him? But basically 1999-2000s em x chubby reader? Ly <33

I hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Eminem x plus sized! Reader

Synopsis: He was a popular yet controversial figure in the limelight. He doesn’t appeal to the glamour shots of the industry, but it’s not easy to ignore the wave of women that surround him. Of course, that’s a given after being bestowed as ‘girlfriend’, but that wasn’t what thrived your concerns.

Christina Aguilera and Eminem. Two of some of the hottest artists taking over the Y2K era have caught themselves into this ongoing cat and mouse game. Christina merely started It for the attention, the drama – though she did find him attractive, until much like any other gossip girl, her lips moved far too much and became another name to this man’s list.

Eminem, on the other hand, already had himself a lady. Granted, it started off rough after the divorce with Kim and his current girlfriend being responsible and protective of her heart, but nonetheless, he was a newly taken man by a beautiful woman. However, that was Marshall. As Eminem, by Paul’s words, he has a rep to protect and is involved with a business that thrives off of appearances and glamour rather than emotions.

Specifically, pure emotions.

Once he caught wind of Christina’s ongoing compliments toward him that slowly turned into cheap disses that not even a five-year-old would spew, he played the game. He entertained her and the media, she tried to bring in reinforcements in the form of little Britney Spears. Caught during a childish game, Spears supported her former co-worker as a woman and a friend until her father tightened the reigns and Christina was gone with the wind.

Despite the words and lyrical disses tossed between one another, no careers were destroyed over the feud. Instead, the only harm that came from this – outside of Britney realizing Christina wasn’t a good friend – was his relationship.

“Marshall, if you like her, then you like her,” you huff, marching around the kitchen as you make dinner. “There’s no need for you to drag this out or act like some pre-school boy. If you wanna go then do it before dinner’s done, so I don’t make too much.”

The dyed blond leans against the counter, shaking his head. “Baby, that’s not what’s happenin’ and it never will. Christina just talks too damn much, she started to speak on Kim an’ our divorce an’ then our relationship. She nearly put your information on blast, baby, on the fuckin’ radio!”

“And let me guess, you protected me by complimenting her figure? Standin’ on stage, calling her your reward for a damn trophy?” Your lips curled, snarling, ready to smash the half of the onion in his eyes.

He shakes his head, “that’s, that’s not what happened?” Your head snaps around, “word? As if that shit wasn’t aired? Marshall, don’t piss me off, right now.”

“Not that, I didn’t mean to say that,” he stutters, “but like, she’s a beautiful woman, just talks too much.”  You slam your hands on the other side of the counter, glaring him down. “You engaged her bullshit because she’s pretty, Marshall. She’s the new eye-candy with the picture-perfect body, you wanted her, and you thought it would slide.”

“Well, it didn’t. You’re about as subtle as a damn goldfish surrounded by Koi fish. If you want someone new, someone familiar, hell, a fuckin’ model then be my fucking guest, but don’t you dare insult my fucking intelligence.”

Distracted, you storm out of the kitchen and for the bedroom. He follows, face scrunched with confusion. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? I’m not insultin’ shit, if anyone is insulted it’s me.”

You stop at the doorway, fingernails gripping into the wooden frame to restrain the urge to just throttle the shit out of him. “What… the fuck?” You gawk at the rambling man. “Do you ever, like, listen to the words that leave your mouth or is everything impulsive?”

“You’ve insulted me multiple times as if I don’t notice shit. You did it when you sought after me when your divorce had yet to be final, you did it when Kim kept stopping by my apartment half naked and lookin’ for you, and you’re doing it now with Christina. I’m sick of the bullshit, Marshall.”

He raises his arms, exasperated, “what do you want from me? Huh?” He steps closer, “obviously, there’s somethin’ deeper on your mind. Talk to me.”

Involuntarily, a pout forms on your lips as your body shrinks into itself. You shuffle to the edge of the queen size bed, sitting down. Your face begins to sink as the wear and tear of your demons, your insecurities – the little voices in the back of your head, take over. You were no longer the raging girlfriend who’d stomp around, wave a knife or something, and end an argument with her word as law. You were the little girl who watched everyone she knew find love – the good and the bad – while she stood in the background, waiting her turn.

The same girl who no one would willingly choose, the inspiration behind the heartbreaking dares and victim of explosive, public outbursts and humiliation. All because her heart was as big as her stomach and as warm as her hugs. As that little girl grew older, taller, bigger, the shadows of the past followed her with devotion. It tainted friendships, dates, and even small social interactions. To her, eyes were always watching her. Focused on the way she talked, how many times she stuttered, how’d she walk, how’d she dress.

Her life was a show. She was the fool and people were her audience.

You and Marshall, in another world, would’ve never come into fruition. He’d be a player, yet a gentleman, eyes focused on his music, his daughter, and the skinny groupies that followed his every move. He could’ve flirted and bashed singers like Christina and Britney without worrying if his woman at home would flip out. His decisions would be based on the moment and not on the memories. Meanwhile, you’d live life in a loop, stuck in her bubble of nerves.

“Baby?” He whispers, falling to his knees in front of you, hands hover over your knees. “Talk to me.”

You begin to tremble, fingers clutching onto your lips in hopes to distract you from the pain that wished to spill. “Do you,” you breathe, “do you actually like me? Could you close your eyes and imagine me as I am, happily? Curves and all? Could you… could you look at me and know that even in a different timeline, we’d be together?”

“Where’s all this…” She cuts in with a small shake of her head, “just answer me, please. Just for tonight.”

He gulps, nodding, “yes. I do like you. When I close my eyes and think of you, every inch appears. I can’t, ugh, I can’t focus on just one feature. And – and when I do, I feel at peace. Like there’s nothing expected of me. If things were different, I don’t think we’d be together. I’d think you would meet someone far less douche than me, who thinks about you before they act recklessly.”

You break into sobs, your head shaking repeatedly. Back and forth, back and forth. “Then why… why won’t you go outside with me during the day? They already know you’re dating again, so why keep me hiding? I don’t care if, if we were spending our time at a fuckin’ park, I just want to spend time with you. Out of this goddamn apartment, staring at the same fucking walls!”

“You saw how the media weaseled its way into my marriage with Kim,” he sighs. “Granted, a lot of our problems stem from before the fame, but once the paps started showin’ up at fucking McDonalds or just, whenever I was with family, things got rough. They followed me, stalking for any source of material and stalked her, hoping to catch her in a scandalous moment.”

He looks down at his digits as they mindlessly rub at your smooth skin. “There wasn’t peace, there wasn’t privacy. I was ready to fuckin’ lose it and I did. And then,” he settles on his heels, “I met you. You never asked for a photo, an autograph, or to meet Dre or the boys. You were willing to go at my pace. It pissed me off, but you’d rather wait for the court to announce me as a single man then to just take my word for it.”

“I just want to do better for you.”

Your bottom lip trembles freely, “you don’t have to. I could never do it, no one could. I mean, fuck, look at me now. I’m still huge as fuck. I can’t go outside in a shirt and shorts; I have to be covered. I have to hide. And I don’t wanna hide anymore, Marshall. I’m sick of hiding.” The last of your words slur into cries.

His sits up, pressing your upper body onto him, holding your head against his neck. He scatters soft pecks around your ear and down your neck, whispering words of comfort to soothe you. “Then you won’t. We’ll start slow, get you comfortable with yourself. See your body, your soul, for who you really are. The reasons I love you and we’ll move on. We’ll get better.”

“I love you,” you whisper, lips brushing against the pulse point of his neck. A small smile dawns his face, “not as much as I do you.”

[jimblejamblewritings]

starlight moonlight sunlight — blurb eight

Title: Friendship Breakups and Shitty New Beginnings

Pairing: ex!Remus x reader, Remus x Sirius, eventual poly!Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: catching a partner cheating, angst, hurt no comfort, friendship breakup

blurb series navigation here | previous blurb here

Sirius practically dragged Remus to the kitchen, closing all the doors leading into the room and casting several spells. 

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to do that. It was just because I kissed you and I was just going through the motions and ended up k— Merlin, Rem, I’m sorry. Seriously, I’m s—” 

“Hey.” Remus grabbed his shoulders. “I’m not mad at you.” 

“You’re not?” 

“This night has been a lot for all of us. You were just trying to get through it by coasting. It’s okay.” 

“Thank you,” Sirius sighed. 

Remus shook his head and squeezed Sirius tightly. They both began to fix food in silence. Sirius set a kettle on the stove for hot water. He was going to make you a hot chocolate and Remus a tea. The grating of the knife in Remus’ hand going through a large baguette started to grate on him. He ran a hand through his hair again. 

“Moons, can I talk to you?” 

Remus nodded. “What’s up? I, uh, think I need to talk to you as well.” 

“On three?” 

“1…2…” 

“I think I still like Y/N.” “I think I like women.” 

Both men blinked at each other. 

“Huh?” “What?” 

Remus took the kettle off just as it started whistling. “You go first. You like women. Did you find out because of kissing Y/N?” 

Sirius groaned. “Can I just say yes and we ignore this.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about this before the kiss?” 

“You saw her at the ball yesterday and she’s always dressed nicely when we’re at band practice. I don’t know. She’s actually pretty cute and not in the I recognize women’s attractiveness because they usually put in so much effort to look nice sort of way. Like in the I could suck his face off kind of way but he’s a her. And her is Y/N.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay? That’s it? We’re good?”

Remus stuck a mug in Sirius’ hand. “I think you need the chamomile more than me. Sweetheart, in what world would I judge you for liking men and women when I like men and women?” 

“Yeah, but I’ve always liked only men. I came out as gay in third year and didn’t exactly look back once.” 

“So, you’re a late bloomer in your self-discovery,” he said with a shrug. “I just told you I still like my ex. I think that might be a bigger problem.” 

“Let’s just get this over with, we can’t stay in the kitchen forever.” 

They came back with a tray of food, only to be greeted to an empty room.

“Where did she go?” 

Both boys screamed when a hand stretched out from the pile of flowers on the bed. Your entire body materialized moments later. 

“Could you always do that?!” 

You grimaced, covering your ears and tucking your chin into your chest. “Too loud.” 

“Sorry,” they whispered. 

You stood up before they could set the tray down fully. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” 

“Y/N.” 

“I feel humiliated, Remus.” Your voice was eerily calm. “Did you think I was never going to find out?” 

“I wasn’t trying to hu—” 

“Please call everyone into the living room for me.” You walked downstairs and simply waited. 

Everyone was confused about why they needed to have a meeting at 1 am until they saw you standing in the middle of the room while Remus and Sirius were sitting down on the couch with their tails tucked between their legs. Tentatively, they sat down. You sprung on them the moment Mary’s butt hit the final seat. The other flinched at the sudden cloud of flower petals Sirius and Remus had already gotten used to. 

“Did you all know? Was I the only one too stupid to see Remus and him were a couple, still a couple when he was pretending?” 

Lily shook her head. “You’re not stupid we were the on—” 

“Please just answer the question.” 

“Yes. We made the plan with them on the train when you were in the observation car and the bathroom.” 

Sirius held his breath, flinching prematurely at the look on your face. For once, he’d deserve the yelling. He’ll take it with a brave face. 

“Y’all aren’t shit.” 

“I know. I’m sorry and I know everyone else would be as well.” 

“Honestly.” You wiped away hot tears. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I don’t know if we can be friends. I hate you so much right now.” 

“Y/N.”

“Even you, Dora?” 

Her silence was deafening. You summoned the bakery keys and gave them to her. She pleaded with you not to do it to just stay or continue bakery work but you shook your head. 

“I was accepted for a job at a bookstore in Diagon Alley. I’m going to take it. Do whatever you want with the place, you have all the recipes if you want to keep it running. I thought y’all were my friends.” 

With that you stormed out of James’s house, short and stubby cacti trailing behind you to prevent the other from following, and apparated to Hogsmeade. It was a short but very angry trudge up to the castle, plants still springing up all around you. All you wanted was your family and friends from Ilvermorny but without them or a way to contact them, you were more upset.

Unfortunately Hogwarts, and the students and faculty still there, got a first class experience at what that emotion looked like. Snapdragon bushes kept attacking the place and cacti kept needing to be blasted back. You ate breakfast the next morning with a scowl over your holiday pancakes that the elves made into specific shapes. Why did they make them all flower shaped? You were expecting Christmas trees or something. 

You looked up when a shadow blocked you. Snape was scowling. 

“Do everyone a favor and control whatever freak nymph thing you have going on. We’re sick of sitting on pinecones because of whatever problems you have.” 

Looking around, you realized the disaster that was the Great Hall. All you could do was stare wide eyed at the scene. Faculty looked at you apologetically. Students looked at you angrily or with mistrusting glances. You weren’t sure which was worse. You didn’t stick around to find out either.

| next blurb coming soon |

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[quitealotofsodapop]

Sun Wukong is such a cool character across the board since if you genderbent the character - very little would change other than the reactions of those around them.

LMK: Same character. Only difference is brief confusion from MK and Tang, who adjust their pronouns when speaking of Dawn accordingly. Relationship with Macaque unchanged.

Hero is Back: Short red hair, chewing on hay, tall af? Thats half the butch farmers in my county. Liuer has a brief moment of "The Great Sage is a woman?" before going straight back to fanboying about how cool Dasheng is. Zhu Bajie is likely shocked and appalled that he was defeated by a woman - tho still shoots his shot. Attract does not work on Dasheng. Story accidentally becomes a tale of a mother sacrificing her life to protect her son, and ends with the son sacrificing himself to protect his new mother.

Reborn: Still a chaotic hissing gremlin of a monkey. Brief moment of funny where the very feminine Taoist acolytes misgender Smokey as male since she still looks the same. Zhu Bajie hesistates to hit on Smokey (despite her very convincingly diguising herself as his wife during his recruitment), since she terrifies him. Smokey still arises from their false death cloaked in blue flame and lava. And still mourns the loss of Fruitie.

NewGods: Bigger plot twist of Ace's identity. No one has figured out her identity for so long (including Ao Guang) cus they all assumed SWK was a guy. Still a giggling, gambling lush. Yunxiang: "Hey whos this drunken, half-dressed old lady offerring to train me in exchange for a motorbike- oh sweet Buddha she's the Monkey King."

1999/2000 Cartoon: Sugar is already femme af. No change.

Netflix: Little character change, though Cherry's story would indirectly become a glass ceiling situation with the Immortals. Men can become immortal by killing lots of evil demons (source: Erlang & Hou Yi), but women gotta suffer (source: Guanyin). Bonus girl bonding with Lin.

Smash Legends: Starfruit leans into gender stereotypes for the views. Goes full tiktok e-girl with her asethetic. Would form punk girl band with Goldie.

And lets not forget how many live-action Sun Wukongs are played by women actors and/or stuntwomen.

Gender bending their Macaques also do not change much. Basically these monkeys could be any gender indentity and still be themselves

[meiliarotten]

i need the insight of the tf2 smut expert (complimentary) on this one... which of the mercs prefers tits and which one prefers ass?

First off- I am honored to be considered the tf2 smut expert. Now- on to the ultimate question.

🍑 or 🍒?

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

The Masterlist

👟 Scout 👟

Oooooh I had to ponder this one for a long while. Now, I personally headcanon Scout as bi (like me), so I finally decided he likes both, but specifically tits for women and ass for men. If you’re non-binary it’s a coin toss. As in he’ll probably literally flip a damn coin.

🦅 Soldier 🦅

My reasoning here literally had me looking up muscle groups in the human body. Soldier strikes me as a man attracted to strength. Literally look at Zhanna. She definitely pegs him and he’s not ashamed of it. As such, I think he’s an ass man- largest muscle in the body, y’know? Yeah. My high school biology teacher would be proud to see what I’m doing with that hard earned education.

🔥 Pyro 🔥

Pyro likes any squishable soft part of your body- tits, ass, belly, it’s all fair game, but if they had to choose, they would go with tits. They’re the easiest to squeeze if they hug you from behind, they like the way they feel when you’re cuddling and they’re pressed up against them, big or small, breasts are just perfect! Plus, if you have an especially sensitive chest, Pyro will definitely take full advantage of that during foreplay

💥 Demo 💥

For Demo, it comes down to what’s easiest to grab in the moment- and that tends to be your ass. It’s easy to give it a quick squeeze in the corner of a bar or even in passing on the battlefield, just to tease you a bit- tits aren’t nearly as subtle. So yeah, it’s ass all the way for this one.

🥊 Heavy 🥊

I struggled with this for a long while but I finally settled on tits. Heavy is much bigger than most of his lovers, and so he prefers for them to ride on top so that they can take him at their own pace. This position makes it pretty easy for him to caress your chest or simply watch the way your tits bounce as you ride him. It’s a view he can’t get enough of!

🔧 Engie 🔧

Ass. I had to consult a fellow smut expert on this one cause I was stuck, and they’re reasoning basically boils down to a particular smutty scenario where Engie bends you over his desk and goes to town- hence resulting in the ass preference. I also personal feel like he wouldn’t be shy about spanking either.

🏥 Medic 🏥

Assl Tits. THIGHS. I will perish on this hill, Medic is a thigh appreciator above all else. Mans will go down on you for hours just to be cushioned between a pair of thighs. He’ll leave bite marks on the soft flesh. A pair of thigh high stockings will fucking slay him, as illustrated in this fic by lil ol me.

🦘 Sniper 🦘

Ass for sure. This might have something to do with the “wild man” energy Sniper gives off. Something about him just screams feral, and that includes taking you ass up and face down whenever the mood arises.

🌹 Spy 🌹

Tits, especially if they’re accentuated with some fancy lingerie. Spy will gladly worship your chest if you want him to. He’ll even buy you outfits that show off your curves with plunging necklines just for him to admire you in. Kinda like a sugar daddy

So yeah, those are my hot takes on what each merc prefers. You want a source? My source is that I made it the fuck up

Jk, this is all in good fun, and I’d love to see y’all’s opinions as well! These are the discussions we should be having, people!

[f1ghtsoftly]

my head is scrambled but in Kate Manne’s “The Logic Of Misogyny” she put to words something I always, always knew was true.

Most of the time Men don’t hurt women for no reason, they punish women who assert themselves/their personhood. Misogynistic violence is a punishment, it’s a form of conditioning to get women to behave submissively towards men. To punish women for existing in public without male protection. To punish women for daring to think her intellect, athletic or artistic achievement could come before her sex.

I don’t present super femme anymore or hang around men outside my family basically ever-but when I did I was frequently targeted for sexual assault, usually by men who were frustrated they were attracted to me but couldn’t have me. They felt like I was taunting them-but asserting my right to exist as someone they were attracted to/without any sort of male protection or a male protection that didn’t involve sexual favors/submission. That wasn’t an accident, I’m sure if I meekly cowered behind a big boyfriend, I’m sure if I stayed inside, I’m sure if I didn’t assert myself as extraverted, intelligent, funny or charismatic those men would have left me alone-but that would have meant hiding myself from the world, hiding myself from other women and to me that was a bigger loss than a ‘lil danger. I made choices as a young person that I knew with certainty would bring me in closer proximity to men who wanted to hurt me, I decided that living a freer life was better than living a safe one. I don’t necessarily regret my assessment of patriarchy, I am sad that the price you pay for being an independent woman (in a social sense) in public is assault. I don’t blame women who think their safety is more important than making a statement. I’m sad for us both. I’m grateful I was able to find feminist communities because victimization isn’t just something casual you can shake off, even if it feels like men constantly target you/women in general.

Assault doesn’t just roll of your back either. It hurts. In the moment and for years afterwards it hurts. It’s always senseless. Always dehumanizing to the extreme. Always enraging. Always profoundly violating. Always a shock. I struggle to reconcile what I know about rape with what I know about people. I know people can be cruel, unthinking, insecure. I don’t know how someone can plot the rape of a friend or a stranger who has done nothing to deserve it. I don’t know how men can secretly tape their lovers, manipulate a young woman into sex she doesn’t want or do any of the things men do consistently or routinely. I don’t know how a boy could look at the face of his too drunk friend and go “this is my opportunity to have my way with her” instead of putting her to bed. Carelessness, thoughtless is easy to imagine. Conscious cruelty is not. Men know what they do and they either don’t care or like it.

I’m crying in a park in my Dad’s pickup truck. “There are worse things than this, you didn’t die-you’re alive” He says “this wasn’t your fault, I just want to keep you safe and what happened to you isn’t something I can control even though I wish I could”. “I’d feel better if you lived in Austin, because their self defense laws are better, there are lots of gay people there too”

He makes me laugh. I won’t move to Texas. He’s right, it’s not my fault, and helping me get better at self defense helps him feel like he can do something and while self defense does help-it’s not a perfect strategy. The misogynist’s prerogative is to snuff out the life force of the woman he interacts with, the only way to stop him from trying to do that is to become apart of the living dead. Even then, he’ll get your corpse.

There are worse things than rape in this life. A woman alive is better than a woman dead. I guess, but what life is it when constantly forced to battle for your right to live? When at a moments notice you can be filled from the inside out with death. Rotted from your insides out. I wish New York would let me have a gun. I wish I could make men afraid and polite in my presence the way I feel afraid and polite in theirs. I’m so tired of this.

[procyonloser]

Pt 1

Lucifer held Charlie's hand as they walked through the aquarium, not wanting her to stray far from him in place like this. She was cute as a bug today, hair up in little pigtails, pulling on his hand to try and show him each glass underwater world.

Eventually they came upon a talk with one of the aquarium keepers, who was chatting to a ring of children around the man. Charlie ran over as fast as she could, and Lucifer laughed as he walked with her - he wondered how long he'd have this much bigger of a stride than her, if she inherited his ex wife's genes.

"The anglerfish?" The speaker asked, repeating a question one of the kids had asked - he was an extremely tall man with a booming voice. At first, Lucifer thought nothing of him, but the longer he looked at him, the more attractive Lucifer found him. He was oddly sharp yet soft looking, his height was imposing, but his belly and legs were thick and his hands looked almost delicate in Lucifer's opinion. Yet, he'd never say he looked feminine, his face gave a sort of boy next door turned into a fry cook vibe that Lucifer was weirdly very into.

"No, the lady anglerfish isn't prettier." The man answered, with a bit of a laugh. "In fact, when you think of an anglerfish, you're probably thinking of some of the deep sea anglerfish - in many deep sea anglers, such as Ceratias holboelli, the female is massive in comparison to the males. The males seek out their giant future life partners and latch onto them, helpless, becoming a parasite that exists for the purpose of fertilizing her eggs."

It clearly went over most the little kids heads, but a few of the parents looked amused or scandalized, but Lucifer couldn't help the words that spilled out of his mouth.

"Sign me up to be a male anglerfish," Lucifer said without thinking about it. He was instantly glowered at by a couple women, but more bit their lips, laughing under their breath.

The aquarium speaker tilted his head, a crooked smile on his face as he looked down at Lucifer. "Well, when it comes to size you're about there."

Oh ho ho, Lucifer thought with a wide grin.

"Call me if you have any unfertilized eggs." Lucifer told him, far more flirtatiously than he meant to, or at least more than he meant to in front of Charlie. His 4 year old stared up at him in confusion, before tugging on his hand and trying to pull him away.

"I want to go see the jelly fish!" Charlie pouted and Lucifer laughed nervously, fixing his hat and nodding.

"Okay, jellyfish next!" Lucifer said, getting led away, but at the last minute, he looked over his shoulder and met the man's eyes. The guy winked at him.

Lucifer realized he hadn't even gotten his name. How was he supposed to masturbate furiously later?

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Shelley Winters (A Patch of Blue, A Place in the Sun)— She was originally set up to be like a classic bombshell, but ‘got tired’ of those roles and instead went for more interesting, complex characters. And she’s sooooooo good, her performance really makes A Place in the Sun for me, she brings such a quiet dignity to a character that could so easily have otherwise been this unkind caricature. Other fun facts: she was Jewish! She claimed that her ‘chutzpah’ was the reason she had so many affairs (including w notable hot men burt lancaster, william holden, and marlon brando)!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

Shelley Winters:

started her career as more of a glamorous bombshell type and gradually transitioned to more of a (milfy as hell) character actress type but consistently slayed no matter what she was doing

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello!! I just started reading your works recently and I think it's safe to say that I have fallen in love with them <3 the way you write both the cod guys and the reader feels so real and poetic that I just, eat it up everytime. I read your Barbarian! König post and it got me thinking about something.

König and Ghost are kinda opposites when it comes to their darlings. König likes darlings fiesty and snippy but Ghost likes his darlings as more agreeable or soft but not weak, ykwim??

And it got me thinking about Barbarian! Ghost. Whereas König got his darling bc he killed her husband and she was there when it happened, I see Ghost as going to take one girl originally but then the darling steps in front of said girl and says to take her instead, saving the girl and sacrificing herself. Idk but I think he would be very attracted to that, and unlike König who gently picks you up and puts you upon his horse while you kick and bite him, Ghost grabs you and lays you stomach first against his horse harshly, keeping a sturdy hand on your back as he rides away.

Sorry if this is weird or ooc!! But it was just a thought that came to me!

Oh Barbarian!Ghost would be sooo disinterested on the outside. He only saves her ass discreetly, but saves it more than enough times to spark her curiosity.

Why does he come to her rescue and then abandons her to her own devices?

CW: Minor violence (bruises), noncon groping, fear of SA, blood, cuddling & snuggling, Ghost being a complex PTSD weirdo who has a fascination towards bones.

It’s actually she who approaches him first, not the other way around. He allows her to seek protection by staying near him and thus get the others off her back: he might even throw her a piece of roasted lamb as if she were some stray cat, lurking about his campfire. But there’s not much more than that on offer for her: only a few sideways glances that tell her he regards her mostly as a nuisance and a liability, accompanied by a few scrap bones that luckily have some meat and fat still on them.

He shows her how to snap the bigger ones in half to get to the life saving marrow, and that’s when she realizes he regards her a bit dumb, some pretty royal girl who doesn’t know how to survive without a man.

And who’s to blame for all that? Clever men who have forced her to learn poetry and songs, pluck chords and recite philosophers from memory. No one ever even taught her how to ride a horse, the only things she can do is chat about the latest political turns and whether it’s old-fashioned to style your hair Southern style.

Now she’s supposed to strike a conversation with a barbarian who dresses in furs and wool, who collects the knuckles of his fallen enemies and looks at her like she’s the uncivilized one here. He probably plays dice with those bones, and she’s never seen him force a woman under him; she’s never seen him take a woman at all.

He’s probably half dead already, some ghoul raised to ravage this earth. But everytime she gets drooled over or spat upon, groped or squeezed or slapped on the soft flesh of her butt, she makes her way to him and only him. To become one with the shadows too, or to disappear, perhaps.

He gives her his biggest, thickest pelt to wrap around her shoulders, to cover those assets that make these wartorn men so crazy. Or then he doesn’t want to find her frozen to death at dawn... Dark, vast eyes look at her in the early morning fog, up from above from the highest heights, as if asking why she overslept again.

A rabbit is thrown at her feet, but she doesn’t know what to do with it: she knows he wants her to skin it, yes, but how? Even with the knife he provides her, she can only stare at the soft creature helplessly, lick her dry, creaky lips until he sighs and comes to wrench the blade away, taking the hare before it turns too stiff.

She’s almost certain he’s not even interested in women until one day, someone goes a bit too far and grabs a handful of her to squeeze. The spitting, jerking and screaming turn into a whole fistfight until she gets drawn to her knees by her hair. He’s about to rip her scalp off, of that she is sure from how much it burns.

Tears stream down her face from pure pain alone, but this time, the bone marrow man doesn’t only save her. He walks to the scene like a shadow, yanks her gropers head back, and slits his throat right then and there. The others take a few steps back, mist rises from their gaping mouths as he lets go of the bleeding slump, looking at the pulsing, open vein as if he intends to drink from it. But it seems he only wanted to confirm that the dead stay dead because his interest in this man fades as quickly as it was aroused.

She rises to her feet, only to get swept off them as he dives for her hips and raises her to a crude carry, mainly meant for wheat sacks and sheep.

With a wide palm resting on her butt, he hauls her back to his fire, further away from the open field, and she doesn’t dare to utter a word. He doesn’t squeeze her, he doesn’t grope or slap or force her, but he does throw the fur away from her shoulders to check her body for bruises. She stays silent for the whole inspection as he moves her joints and limbs to check if anything’s broken, carefully like she indeed was only a little lamb. Brushes the pads of his fingers across the darkening spots that tell a story of violence, and it makes her shiver.

They’re just bruises, but they’re also evidence that her body is not her own anymore. Still, this clinical inspection feels far more intimate and warm than the rough hands and demanding mouths from before: it’s not just the intention behind the touch, it’s his presence.

You’ve never felt so thoroughly seen.

A low rumble rises in agreement to you taking his probing so well, and you kind of wish he would hold you tonight.

Just… Hold you.

When he withdraws, content with finding you relatively intact after the attempted assault, you grab his wrist. His head snaps back instantly, but he doesn’t pry himself away from your insolent little fingers. If anything, he’s curious.

You don’t know his words, and he doesn’t know yours, so you decide it’s best not to speak at all.

Pulling his palm back, you bring it to your hip, then further up to your waist, trying to make it clear that it’s only closeness and body warmth you seek. You leave it there, and it stays there, out of its own free will. A thumb brushes over your ribs, explorative. His eyes travel, they move down the line of your neck and try to decide what you might want from him, but then you see the fathomless depths he’s been hiding. His eyes come alive, and there’s such darkness there, an unquenchable well of want that shoots fear straight down your stomach.

You were wrong about him, so wrong…

He’s not disinterested, he’s just been holding back a tide as if it’s no big deal to fight back the very gods on his own.

His palm feels like fire, but he doesn’t move, only battles with his demons for a while. You lie there before him, feeling utterly idiotic for thinking he’s different from the rest of the men.

But then… The fur gets drawn over your half naked body. Slowly, deliberately. He’s not reverent: he only knows the consequences of his actions, and this is a path he does not wish to take.

It doesn’t prevent him from laying himself down to sleep next to you, however.

It doesn’t prevent you from slowly reaching an arm around him, the rigid form that slowly, so slowly turns lax. You risk to curl against him: not safe, only warm. A stray royal cat and a ghoul who collects bones, you think, but then the ghoul sighs and turns. You should feel rejected from the way he presents his back to you, but you suspect that it has something to do with him coming alive downstairs.

And you cling to him.

He doesn’t rip you off of him as you slip a hand under his arm and bend against him, like a river otter who just found a fat clam. His solemn breaths lull you to sleep, and he stays still for you: all night until the birds start to sing and the sun warms your face, the whole heap of you two.

Like a big pile of snow, melting on a summer’s day…

[kayhi808]

Now & Then - 3

This was started for @armystrong980 & she requested that it take place during the Civil War timeline.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" You look around the older, run-down buildings.

"It's what Sharon gave me."

Through your earpiece, "If it is, he's not home. Red Wing isn't picking up any heat signatures in the apartment." You quickly glance to the rooftop that Sam is stationed on.

"Sam, keep an eye on the apartment, we're going to take a look around the neighborhood."

"Copy that."

Steve sighs, "He's evaded us this long, I can't imagine him wandering far from here."

Squeezing his arm, looking up at him, "Do you really think we'll find him? Do you think we can bring him home?"

"After what happened in Vienna, we probably won't be able to head home in a while. We need to figure out what he's done."

"But we'll find him right? We'll help him. You don't understand what they did to him. He needs us. We're all he's got."

Pulling you near & dropping a kiss on your head, "We'll find him."

As you walk around the crowded streets, you try to keep an eye out for Bucky & for any other agency in the area surveying the neighborhood, too. Steve is about to take you one street over when you see an open market.

"I'm going to check in there. He may have left to pick up necessities." Steve starts to follow you, "No, you'll attract too much attention." All 6'2" 240lbs of him surrounded by old Romanian women taking care of their daily shopping. "Meet me back here in 15." He opens his mouth to protest. "I'll be fine. It's an open market."

"If you see the subject, do not engage."

"He's not a subject. He's Bucky."

"I'm serious!"

"Fine. Fine." shaking his arm off, you head to the market. You scan the people in the area. Bucky is tall, so he may be easy to pick out in a crowd as well. As that thought skipped through your mind, you notice a tall man up ahead. Dark hair sticking out from under his baseball cap. Baseball caps in Europe always scream "American." His build is bigger than what you remember but there's a fluttering in your belly telling you that, that's Bucky. You hurry through the crowds, not wanting to lose track of him.

In your rush to get to him, you have to dodge out of people's way, "Excuse me. Sorry. Scuzati Ma." You round a fruit cart & you lose track of him. He's gone. "No, no, no." You search the area. Where could he have gone??

You wander deeper into the maze of stalls looking for Bucky when a heavy hand covers your mouth and a Vibranium arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into an alley. Your heart races, but you know it's Bucky. You don't fight. You don't give him a reason to hurt you. Spinning you around he pins you to the wall with his hand around your throat. You grimace at the pressure, but notice Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, in recognition.

"What are you doing here?" he quietly hisses at you.

Your hands reach up to circle his metal wrist, trying unsuccessfully to ease the pressure on your throat, "Looking for you."

Squeezes harder against your throat, "I should just kill you now. One less HYDRA agent in the world."

Looking into his blue eyes, "You truly believe I'm a HYDRA agent? Do you not remember me at all?? Soldat? Bucky." Bucky is silent, but the grip around your throat eases. "There's people after you. I want to help you. They think..."

He shoves away from you, releasing you. "I know what they think. It wasn't me. I wasn't in Vienna."

"Please Buck, let me..."

"I don't need your help." He glares at you & stalks away.

"Don't leave. Please." You chase after him, but he's gone. Like he disappeared into thin air. You turn your link back on, "Bucky was in the marketplace. He just left."

"Jesus, Y/N!! Where have you been? Why didn't you answer us?!"

You knew Steve was going to be angry. Ignoring his outburst, "He said he wasn't in Vienna. It wasn't him, Steve."

Growling, "I told you not to approach him! Sam, I'm heading back to his apartment. Y/N, go back to the hotel."

"No! I can help."

"You want to help Bucky?? This is how you do it. Go back to the hotel! Sam & I can't protect Buck & look after you, too. Especially if you can't follow simple instructions!"

Sam interrupting, "Cap, there's radio chatter, German special forces are in the area. You need to hurry."

"Ok, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please go to him, Steve." Steve doesn't respond, but Sam hears your quiet sob.

"Hon, look, go back to the hotel & pack up. If this goes sideways, they're taking us to Berlin. Keep your burner phone on you. We'll contact you that way."

"I'm so sorry, Sam. Please be careful."

He sighs, "I know. Stay safe. We'll contact you as soon as possible."

******

You know you promised Steve to follow orders, but you couldn't help yourself. The opportunity presented itself and you had to take it. You couldn't let Bucky go. You busy yourself packing up everyone's things from the hotel. If Sam & Steve get to Bucky, you imagine you all will be making a quick exit from Romania. And if not...you're headed to Germany.

As you complete packing and moving your bags by the door you notice the high speed police chase on TV. Shit. Shit. Shit. You sit at the foot of the bed watching everything unfold They're all arrested. Oh God! Rhodey is there. That can't be good. Tony Stark wouldn't be too far behind. Tony & Steve were arguing before you left for Peggy's funeral. You quickly turn off the tv & make your way to the airport.

******

1940 Brooklyn, NY

It was another full moon so the Emergency Room was a zoo tonight. You were so happy to see the overnight crew arrive. You wanted nothing more than to go home, shower & pass out. You didn't even have the energy to eat. You pull the cord signaling the bus driver to stop. It was close to midnight, but the bus stopped half a block away from your apartment. You always felt safe, but tonight you noticed someone sitting on the stoop to your building.

"Hey, Doll."

"Bucky?" You quicken your steps to get to him. "What are you doing here?" As you get closer, the bright light of the moon shows evidence that Bucky's been in a fight. "Damn it, Buck." You scan his body looking for signs of blood. "What happened?" You climb the stairs to unlock the door to your building.

"You know, there was a misunderstanding. Words were said. Fists were thrown. Noses were broken." You stop, turning to glare at him over your shoulder double checking to make sure his nose was in tact and he laughs. "Shhhh! People are sleeping."

Locking up, you tell him to sit & he automatically pulls out a kitchen chair. You grab your first aid kit and place it on the table. He eases off his jacket & you notice the blood & slice in his shirt. You gasp & kneel by his chair untucking his shirt & undershirt to get to the wound. Bucky keeps his shirt up, "How bad is it, Doc?"

"You won't need stiches, but I'm going to need to clean & bandage it." It wasn't as bad as you feared. Only a bad scratch. He'll survive. You concentrate on cleaning & bandaging his wound. You stand to check his bruised cheek, running your finger gently over it making sure his bones were still in tact. You feel Bucky's eyes on you & you start to feel flushed.

"What would I do without you, Doll?"

His hands rest on your hips & it flusters you. "I'm sure you'd manage. You'd just have to find a nurse to date, so she can patch you up." You move away to repack your first aid kit.

"Nah. She wouldn't have your gentle touch. There's no one like you, Dollface." You made the mistake of looking over at him & your breath catches. The way he's looking at you. It's like...like you were special to him.

*****

Civil War - Berlin Germany

Sam contacted you & brought you to the warehouse where Steve & Bucky were at. Steve walks out and you run to him, throwing your arms around his neck. 'I was so worried! I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Stevie. If something happened to you, I wouldn't have survived knowing you were mad at me. Forgive me. I'm so sorry."

Picking you up off your feet, "I should have known better. You've never listened a day in your life." He gives you a smile and you know he's forgiven you. "Twins," placing you back on your feet.

"Forever."

"Forever." Laughing, "There's someone waiting to see you." Your eyes widen & Steve nods over your shoulder.

Turning, you see Bucky in the doorway. "That punk gets a hug, and I get nothing?" Your jaw drops. You were expecting Soldat. You cover your mouth with your hands, shaking your head. You look over your shoulder at Steve and he has the biggest smile on his face.

"Jamie?" you breath out on a sob.

"You're the only one who's ever called me Jamie, Doll. I can't tell you how nice it is to hear it again." It takes 5 steps and you're in Bucky's arms and you're able to let your tears fall. Your sobs get harder and yet you try to apologize over & over again. It just came out as jibberish, which made Steve & Bucky laugh. Bucky's arms wrap around you tighter. He was forced to do terrible things in order to protect you. He suffered so much because of you and now you have him back.

*****

Helicopters with searchlights are still passing the area. You see the lights occasionally flicker through the warehouse windows.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Bucky eases himself to the floor beside you.

Staring at Bucky, "I can't believe you're actually here. I don't want to fall asleep. What if this isn't real? I wake up and this was nothing but a dream. I'd lose you all over again. My heart wouldn't recover." It's easier to confess what's in your heart in the darkness of the night.

Bucky moves you so you straddle his lap, his arms wrap around your waist pulling you against him. His face rests in the crook of your neck. You feel his breath as puffs of air against your skin. Your fingers card through his hair, "I'd dream of having you in my arms like this. I thought you were gone but it still helped me get through the War. But you weren't gone." He pulls away & cradles your face so he can look at you, "You were there in Moscow."

"I'm so sorry, Jamie. They made you do terrible things because of me. Forgive me, please." He pulls your mouth down to his and you sigh at the touch of his lips. Soft sweet kisses, him moving between your upper to your lower lip.

"There's nothing to forgive, Doll," using his thumb to brush away tears you didn't realize had fallen. "Or if that's the case, I'm sorry I failed so many missions and you paid the price."

"HYDRA is to blame. Only them." You kiss him again, running your tongue over the curve of his lip. Pulling you snug against him, he deepens your kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His hands slide up to squeeze your breasts, fitting perfectly into the palm of his hands. You cover his hands with yours, stilling them & breaking the kiss, moaning "Jamie. Steve and Sam are in the other room."

His hands slide back down to your hips. "Shit." You softly laugh as his head falls again to the crook of your neck, this time trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck & shoulders. You move off him and he slides down, tapping his chest.

You lay beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow and an arm thrown across him. "This isn't a dream right? You'll still be here when I wake up."

"Sleep, doll. I'll be here."

@severelykinky @panandinpain0 @elijahssuit @ordelixx @moonlovefairy @cjand10 @vicmc624 @marianastudiesart @thefandomplace @longlivedelusion @snowkestrel @insomiax @babybreathbabes @k-marzolf @danzer8705 @nekoannie-chan

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Okay, let's talk about NC/Ra*e Kink

disclaimer: Thoughts are under a cut due to the sensitive nature of the topic.

disclaimer: This is not a post endorsing or condemning the kinks. It is simply a discussion about them.

Some kinks are more niche than others. Some kinks aren't widely accepted. Some kinks are very nuanced and will elicit contradictory or confusing feelings.

When I first came across non-consensual (NC) and rape kink fics, I was a little bit jarred. I couldn't understand why someone would want to write it or how someone could enjoy reading it. To me it was very triggering and upsetting, so I didn't interact with "dark fic" like that.

Still, I had a genuine curiosity as to why people were attracted to the kink even if I didn't enjoy it myself. Sexuality is a very broad spectrum, and I try to be open minded if not for just gaining the understanding of a different point of view.

I wanted to ask questions to readers and writers of the kink, but it's such an inflammatory subject in fandom that I couldn't figure out how to do it without it coming across like I was being rude or condemning. Eventually I was able to talk directly to people about it who knew I wasn't coming from a place of judgment. This was on top of looking into things on my own (like reading articles, think pieces, historical/social takes on it, etc.).

Here's a quick list of what I learned:

SURVIVORS: WRITERS — Many of the writers of the kink had been subjected to sexual violence. When you're writing, you can dictate the characters, the dialogue, the plot points, etc. You are in control of what happens. For some survivors, it is a therapeutic exercise in "rewriting" an experience where they had zero control into an experience where they control every facet of what happens.

SURVIVORS: READERS — Readers of the kink have the buffer of a fictional exploration of it and can choose to exit out of a story if they no longer enjoy it or it becomes too much for them, which was not an option in their actual lived trauma. There is also the distance between themselves and the story, which creates a safety buffer where they can engage with the sensitive topic in an indirect way if they so choose.

SEXUAL AUTONOMY — If you pick up any given romance novel, there's a decent chance the kidnapping trope is in there. This roughly entails some physically bigger/stronger man whisking a woman away against her will and then forcing her into a sexual situation where she ends up enjoying it despite it not being consensual. There might even be bits of "this isn't supposed to feel good" and "why do I feel like I'm enjoying this?" sprinkled into it. This trope is in large part due to the limited sexual freedom of women in the past (and present, but notably in the past). Because the woman wasn't initiating or even agreeing to the sexual act, she is relieved of the responsibility of said act. She didn't ask or choose for it to happen, so she does not have ownership of the sexual act. (I know this isn't reality because unfortunately many women are burdened with the "responsibility" for their assault, but please keep in mind I'm speaking on the fantasy/fantasizing aspect of this.) Because of historical and social expectations of chastity in women, one of the few ways that it was even "acceptable" to explore sexual acts was through means of coercion. The fantasy that you don't have to endure the societal repercussions of your sexual act because you didn't initiate it or execute it is sometimes the only way that women knew or felt comfortable in accepting a sexual experience.

SEXUAL DOMINATION — For some people, the idea of being completely sexually dominated and controlled is their biggest fantasy. There's a thrill to not knowing what will happen or when it will happen or how it will happen. Having zero control is akin to being able to turn their brain off and just exist and feel. This bleeds into consensual non-consent (CNC) kink and domination/submission kink as well with NC kink being the more "extreme end" of the spectrum imo.

These points do not exist in a vacuum, and it is not a comprehensive list of factors. Again, this is not an endorsement or a rejection of the kink. I am simply sharing my thoughts on what I have learned over time in the hopes that it can clarify things for others who maybe were curious like me but weren't sure how to learn or where to start.