#Think about why you are tempted to something

[formulaonecrumbs]

bite me

Lando Norris x reader

summary: lando’s just too biteable and reader takes advantage of it.

warnings: very extremely fluffy.

A/N: i have love ‘love bites’ they’re so cutesy and UGH i love biting peoples cheeks :p ENJOOYYYY, LOVE U SWEET THINGS!!!!

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

it’s one of those lazy afternoons where time feels slower, like the world outside the windows doesn’t even exist. you and lando are half-sprawled on the couch, limbs tangled in the way they always end up when you’re both too comfortable to care.

he’s flipping through something on his phone, thumb scrolling lazily, while you’re tucked against his side, your hand resting on his chest. you’re not even watching the tv anymore — you’re too busy tracing slow circles over the soft fabric of his t-shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

you don’t even think about it. not really. you just lean in and press a kiss to his cheek — a quick, warm thing, meant to get his attention. but the second your lips land, you can’t help it; your teeth graze his skin, just the tiniest bit.

lando flinches like he wasn’t expecting it, glancing down at you with a mock-offended look. “did you just bite me?”

you grin against his skin, not even pretending to deny it. “maybe.”

he shakes his head, but he’s smiling too, and you can feel the way his arm tightens a little around your waist, tugging you even closer. he always pretends to be annoyed, but he never actually moves away.

you go back to tracing lazy shapes on him, but it doesn’t take long before the impulse comes back. it’s stupid, really — the way you just want to bite him, to leave tiny marks like you’re some kind of overexcited puppy. maybe it’s because he’s so close, so warm, so him.

this time you aim lower, pressing a kiss just under his jawline. he tilts his head without thinking, giving you more space, and you take full advantage — a soft kiss, a firmer one, and then your teeth catching lightly at the sensitive skin there.

“oi,” he says, squirming half-heartedly. “you’re gonna leave a mark.”

“good,” you murmur, pressing your mouth against the spot again like an apology, but not really meaning it. you love the idea of him carrying little pieces of you, hidden under the collar of his shirt, tucked into the crook of his neck.

he laughs, low and fond, and drops his phone onto the coffee table without even looking. like he’s decided he’d rather deal with you and your biting problem than whatever he was doing before.

“you’re a menace,” he tells you, poking your side.

you just nuzzle into him, undeterred. your hand slips under the hem of his t-shirt, finding the warm skin of his stomach. his muscles twitch under your touch, and you can’t help yourself — you press another kiss to his shoulder, your teeth catching lightly on the curve of it.

“can’t help it,” you mumble against him. “you’re just… biteable.”

he huffs out a laugh, but when you look up, he’s already watching you with that look — the one that’s a little too soft, a little too much for your heart to handle.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, pretending to grumble. but he pulls you closer again, hooking his chin over your head like he wants you there, right there, forever.

you hum in contentment, settling into him like you were made to fit there. your mouth finds the inside of his bicep next — he’s wearing a sleeveless hoodie, and the exposed skin is way too tempting. you kiss the warm stretch of muscle, then graze your teeth along it, leaving the faintest little indent.

he doesn’t even bother protesting this time. just sighs dramatically and lets you do whatever you want.

“remind me why i put up with this?” he mutters.

you grin up at him, mischievous and so full of love it almost aches. “because you’re obsessed with me.”

lando snorts. “yeah. unfortunately.”

but he’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, and when you finally lift your head to meet his eyes, he leans down to kiss you — slow and sweet and dizzying. his hand cradles the back of your head, and when he pulls away, he presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

“keep biting me,” he whispers, so soft you almost don’t catch it. “i don’t mind.”

you smile against his lips, your heart thudding stupidly loud in your chest, and you think — yeah. you’re definitely never stopping.

THE END :>

[to-the-stars8]

Crawling Back To You

Bruce Wayne x Reader Smut 18+ MDNI Ao3 Summary: Bruce shows up on your doorstep months after your breakup. He gets on his knees to get you back.

The tension hit Bruce the second he stepped inside, and it was thick enough to cut with a knife.

He’d disturbed your peace, and you didn’t hide that fact. But curiosity had cracked the door open, and Bruce knew it. Like two moths being drawn to the same damn flame. Gliding across the room, you sank into the couch like nothing had disrupted you. 

Your black silk nightgown, barely visible beneath the robe, had crept higher, teasing more of your thighs when you sat. Bruce tried to keep from looking, eyes flickering between you and the various art pieces you kept scattered around your apartment. 

“How are the boys?” you asked, voice like honey.

Only then did Bruce move, like you had finally given him permission. He sat on the loveseat opposite you. His hand ran over the grey fabric in an attempt to get rid of some stress.  As he spoke, his mind flickered back to teenage Dick and little Jason. 

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Dick keeps asking about you.”

You smiled, and Bruce realized just how dangerous you were when you smiled like that. It was soft, sweet, and tempting. “I miss them both.”

Bruce agreed quietly, half-expecting you to say more. Maybe even ask why he’d come. But you didn’t need to. You already knew. He saw it in your eyes. Even as Batman, with all his training, he’d never mastered the art of picking someone apart with a single look. Not in the way you had, anyway. Under your gaze, he was naked. You didn’t just see him. You devoured him. You swallowed every flaw and perfection like you were starving. 

It made him feel alive and different. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

When you’d had enough of him, you looked away, a quiet snicker escaping your lips. Something amused you, and it drove him mad not knowing what. Another second passed before he was under your gaze again. 

“What do you want from me tonight, Bruce?”  When he couldn’t answer, you leaned toward him. “Do you wanna know what I think you want?”

He nodded, fingers clasped tightly in his lap. Truthfully, it was easier to deal with Gotham mobsters and villains. They were cut and dry compared to you. You picked up your wine glass, slow and deliberate, holding his attention before draining the last of it. With a lazy grace, you set the glass back down, leaning into the cushions of the other loveseat.

“You’re lonely, baby.” Your words sounded like pity rather than seduction. “You want me to give you my precious time. My love, too. I bet you would crawl on your knees for it.”

Bruce finally gathered the courage to meet your eyes. You’d stripped him down to his bones, and now, there was nothing left to hide.

“Do you want me on my knees?” He asked, sounding more sure of himself than he realized. 

You laughed, your head tipping back, and the sound of it sent a shiver down his spine. When you finally calmed yourself, you leaned toward him again, lips curling into a sly grin. His gaze fell to your breasts, a brief, unapologetic smirk flashing on his face.

“You’re pathetic, aren’t you?” You paused, biting back another laugh. “Control freak Batman, on his knees?”

“I’m not Batman right now.”

He had quieted you with his response, your eyes dropping to his belt. For the first time that evening, you were considering fucking him. While Bruce couldn’t strip someone down to the bare bones of every dark desire they had like you, he could read body language well enough. Your legs pressed together, and he could see your nipples harden under your nightgown. 

“You’re right, you’re not.” You played with the edge of your nightgown, pondering your next words. “Bruce, do you want to know what I want?”

Bruce was worried about what you would say, but he was desperate to hear it. He prayed that you wouldn’t say you wanted him to leave. “Please, tell me.”

“I want you.” You admitted, voice low. It almost sounded like a challenge. Bruce stood, taking a single step toward you, but you raised a finger, stopping him. “You gotta crawl to get what you want from me, baby. Didn’t you just offer to get on your knees?”

Bruce chuckled, a mix of surprise and something else, but mostly, it was the thrill of the game. Kneeling slowly, he began to crawl toward you. Something was intoxicating about the moment. It wasn’t just his body moving closer, but the feeling that he was surrendering to something more dangerous than he’d expected.

You watched, amusement flickering in your eyes, but you weren’t going to stop him just for your arousal. It was more fun to watch him squirm. He reached you, leaning in to press soft, lingering kisses on your knees and the inside of your thighs. Your hand found its way into his hair, gently yanking his head back so he was looking up at you. Leaning forward slightly, your noses touched, your free hand rubbed over the erection in his pants.

You smiled a little. “It’s been six months, and you still react to me like this? Looks like this cock of yours hasn’t forgotten me after all.”

“No,” Bruce chuckled, groaning when you gave him a gentle squeeze. “All of me hasn’t forgotten you.”

“You fucked me over, and I should hate you for that.” The words left your mouth hollow, lacking the venom they should’ve had. You had forgiven him the moment he looked up at you with those pitiful, aching blue eyes. They were full of regret, need, and something that looked dangerously close to love.

Burce moved first, rising just enough to press his lips to yours. Oh, God, he thought, this was what he wanted. He was starved for the taste of mint mixed wine on your tongue and the softness of your lips. His kiss deepened with a kind of desperation, fingers beginning to trail up your thighs, parting them slowly. 

“I want to taste you,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and hoarse.

You pulled back with a breathless smile, sinking deeper into the cushions, granting him silent permission. He quickly settled between your thighs like a man on a mission. The moment his tongue flicked over your clit, your hips bucked off the couch. Pleasure hit you fast and brutally. 

Bruce knew your body too well. He knew which spots to tease, where to press, where to lap and suck like he’d thought about doing this over and over again. 

“Oh, fuck,” You gasped, yanking his hair. You felt him chuckle against you, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan. Through blurry eyes, you commanded, “I need you inside me.”

But his mouth didn’t budge. His lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking with maddening slowness. And when he looked up at you through thick lashes, his expression was nothing but lust and defiance. He wasn’t finished. Not yet. He was savoring you, like the moment he let go, you’d just disappear. You gripped the cushions, breath ragged as your hips rolled against his mouth.

“Bruce,” You pleaded. “I want you in me, please!”

“Say it again,” he rasped.

You bit your lip, eyes locked on his, every ounce of pride already peeled away. “I want you inside me.”

He got up like he’d been released from a leash, crashing his mouth into yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, sweet and obscene. One hand tore at your nightgown as the other fumbled with his belt. When his cock sprung free, a rush of butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 

“Look at me, please,” Bruce ordered softly. You did, and he felt the weight of your gaze lighten. He pushed his cock against your clit, rubbing through your folds slightly, before beginning to push into you. He filled you completely, perfectly, like his body had been carved just to ruin you. He paused, forehead pressed to yours, both of you trembling.

“Move,” You commanded, nipping at his shoulder. 

He pumped in slowly the first few times, before picking up the pace. His rhythm quickly turned desperate, needy. You had been the only thought on his mind for months, ever since you parted ways. Bruce hated himself for fucking up so bad, because he did want your time and love. And he wanted to give you his. No matter how difficult he could be sometimes. 

As he thrust into you, you grabbed at his biceps, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. You liked him on top, like he was your shield against the rest of the world. Pressing his forehead against yours, Bruce grunted as he felt you begin to tighten around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” You breathed. “Fuck, Bruce.”

He buried his head in the nape of your neck, placing sloppy kisses to your hot skin. Bruce was close, too. You could feel it in the way his cock pulsed in you. 

“Cum with me,” You gasped. Then, when you felt your orgasm wash over you, you cried, “Cum in me.”

Bruce grunted, pulling you flush against him as he poured every last drop into you. He stilled for a second, letting you catch your breath, before he gave a few quick pumps before pulling out. Your chest was still rising and falling when Bruce finally collapsed beside you, his breath hot against your shoulder. The room smelled like sex and sweat and whatever the hell was left between you.

Bruce turned onto his side, laying his sweaty head on your chest and pulling you flush against him. You turned halfway, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you mumbled little praises. He was softer now, less Batman, more man. After a second, a hush fell over the two of you. With him holding you in such a way, you could have fallen asleep. 

“I missed you,” Bruce mumbled. 

You didn’t respond at first. You stared at the ceiling instead, letting his words hang in the air. “No, you didn’t,” you finally said. You shifted, sitting up just slightly, pulling your robe halfway over your body to preserve some of your dignity. “You’re lonely.”

“Maybe I was. That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you,” He pointed out, propping himself up on his elbow. “I haven’t forgotten you. I couldn’t.”

That broke something in you. Or maybe it fixed it. You weren’t sure. You leaned into him, your forehead resting on his, his hand brushing the side of your face.

No more games. No more crawling. Just two broken people trying not to ruin it again.

[jjaehyunzs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ priest’s son!mark x reader

you yawned and looked around, desperate for something, anything, to break the dullness of the mass. everyone else sat stiffly, eyes glued to the altar.

everyone except mark lee, the priest’s son.

he was staring. not at your face, but at your bare legs. you shifted slightly, parting them just enough to tempt him, pretending to adjust your dress.

you caught the way his eyes darkened, how his mouth parted slightly in surprise. you nearly laughed. still, he didn’t look away, not until his gaze slowly dragged up the figure of your body and his eyes finally clashed with yours, then he turned his head so fast it was almost comical.

you stood up, murmuring an excuse about going to the bathroom, flashing him a knowing smirk before slipping away. you didn’t have to look back to know he was following. you slipped inside the priest’s office and leaned casually against the desk, waiting. when he appeared in the doorway, looking unsure, you smiled sweetly.

“so you liked the view?”

mark opened his mouth, trying to come up with an excuse but only a helpless stutter came out. adorable.

“don’t be shy” you crooned, spreading your legs again, your dress bunching dangerously high on your thighs. you watched his gaze drop, his throat bobbing with a thick swallow. “sit down, mark,” you said, voice dropping lower. “unless, you’re in a rush to get back.”

he locked eyes with you and, after a moment, he obeyed, sinking almost robotically on the couch. you could see the tension tight in his frame, the way his hands fisted uselessly on his knees.

“i didn’t expect you to be so obvious” you teased.

“i- i wasn’t—” he tried to protest, but you were already crossing the space between you. you climbed onto his lap, straddling him with a slow, deliberate grind of your hips. his breath hitched audibly as he grabbed the edge of the couch like he might fall off.

your mouth found his neck, warm and frantic against his flushed skin. you kissed, licked, and bit, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

he whimpered, hips jerking up instinctively against yours. the growing pressure in his pants giving him away faster than his mind could catch up. he tried to resist, to remember where he was, who he was supposed to be.

“this is wrong…” he rasped, voice breaking as you pressed harder into him. his hands betrayed him too, clutching at your waist, pulling you closer.

“then why,” you whispered against his throat, “does it feel so fucking good?” you let your teeth scrape gently over his pulse. your hips rolled against his again, slower this time, as his head tipped back against the couch, exposing more of his throat to you, a silent invitation.

“yn… we shouldn’t, i—” he tried again, but you tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze. your smirk deepened as you saw the raw need in his eyes.

you leaned in closer, your voice a purr against his ear. “do you really want me to stop?” you asked, tongue flicking over his earlobe.

he choked on a breath. for a second he hesitated. then, barely audible, he whispered, “no.”

you smiled wickedly as your lips found his, it was desperate, messy, tongue against tongue. fueled by weeks, maybe months, of repressed desire he didn’t even know he had.

his hands slid up from your waist to your thighs, trembling and hesitant. when his fingertips brushed under the hem of your dress, bunching it around your waist, you smiled against his lips, rewarding him with a slow grind that made him curse under his breath.

he gasped, forehead pressing against yours, eyes squeezed shut. you could feel how hard he was against you, how badly he wanted this, wanted you.

“you can touch me, mark” you whispered, breath hot against his lips. “you already sinned just by thinking about it.”

with a broken sound, he grabbed your hips and thrust up against you, grinding desperately into your heat. you gasped, delighted, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking your hips back against his with slow, filthy rhythm. the last slivers of guilt breaking apart with every hump.

mark lee, the priest’s son, was now completely lost under you, chasing pleasure he was never meant to taste, and he couldn’t get enough.

his hands roamed up your thighs, gripping your ass as he ground you harder against his aching cock. each movement of your hips drew shameless noises from him, each kiss left him breathless and begging without words.

it was reckless, desperate, forbidden.

you were both panting now, bodies flushed against each other. his hardness straining against the fabric of his dress pants, begging for friction.

“please” he rasped against your lips, his voice hoarse.

you leaned back just slightly, enough to slip your hand between your bodies, palming him over the fabric of his pants. he bucked into your touch with a guttural groan, forehead falling to your shoulder as his body trembled.

“you’re so hard for me, mark” you whispered, voice dripping with dark amusement.

you lifted your hips and, with practiced ease, unbuttoned his pants. he let out a desperate, broken moan when your hand brushed over him.

“fuck, yn” he whispered, voice wrecked.

smiling wickedly, you tugged his pants down just enough to free him. his cock sprang, swollen, leaking at the tip. twitching against your hand. he groaned, hips jerking up into your fist.

then mark watched with wide, desperate eyes as you pushed your panties to the side. when the head of his cock brushed against your folds, both of you shuddered.

you guided him to your entrance, slick, ready. and slowly, you sank down onto him. a strangled moan ripping from his chest, the sound shooting straight to your core.

he filled you so perfectly, the stretch making you shudder, and you both froze for a second, just feeling it.

“shit—” he whimpered, hands flying to your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

before you started moving, rolling your hips in slow, grinding circles, letting him feel every inch of you.

“oh my god” he breathed, voice cracking. clenching his jaw, trying so hard not to lose it immediately.

you laughed softly against his neck. “wrong place to say that, mark” you teased, rolling your hips experimentally, making him choke on a moan.

you gasped when mark’s hands finally slid higher, grabbing handfuls of your ass and grinding you down harder onto him. with a broken, desperate cry, he slammed his hips up into you, finally losing the last bit of control he had left.

you met him thrust for thrust, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing obscenely in the quiet, sacred office. the walls seemed to close in around you, and the distant sound of the mass beyond the door only made everything feel more wrong. and so much hotter.

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging his head back so he had to look at you. his eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed with pure want.

“you like having me like this?” you whispered, your voice dripping with sin. “fucking the priest’s son… inside his office?”

he let out a raw, broken noise, hips bucking up into you uncontrollably. driving himself deeper into you.

“answer me, mark” you demanded.

“yes,” he groaned, voice wrecked and desperate “fuck, yes—”

you laughed softly against his skin, licking the sweat from his neck, feeling his pulse hammer under your tongue. you started moving in earnest, riding him with slow, relentless rhythm, your walls clenching around him, dragging the filthiest sounds from his lips.

he was close, you could feel it in the way his cock throbbed inside you, the way his movements grew frantic, desperate, chasing his release with reckless thrusts.

“cum for me, mark,” you whispered against his lips. “fill me up. show me how badly you want it.”

he let out a wrecked, strangled moan, hips jerking up violently as he spilled inside you, clutching you so tightly it almost hurt. he groaned into your mouth.

you milked him through it, grinding slow and deep, letting him ride out every wave of overwhelming pleasure. mark buried his face in your neck, groaning your name like a prayer. like you were something holy, a cruel irony inside the priest’s office.

when he finally slumped back against the couch, completely spent and ruined, you stayed straddling him. you gripped his hair, guiding his mouth back to yours. the distant murmur of the mass beyond the door lingered, a stark reminder of where you were.

[haru-dipthong]

Fansub release + translation notes for Utena ep 30!

This episode was a really tough one. There were quite a few difficult lines that I ended up superficially rephrasing in the translation. But I think these rephrasings actually convey the meaning behind the words more effectively.

だって、デートは二人っきりでするもんです。

Literally translated, this would be “Because! Dates are something two people do by themselves!” and this is what I had in my first draft. The problem with this translation is that it’s not quite how an English speaker would phrase it. There’s something intangible. It’s not the way the line reads, but the way it doesn’t read — this phrasing feels off not because it sounds strange itself, but because there’s that nagging feeling that there is a phrasing that would sound better that isn’t being used instead. I felt like the problem of this line was to figure out how an English speaker would naturally phrase it, and I think I ended up finding it with this:

Because! It wouldn't be a date if it wasn't just the two of us.

さては焼いてるなーお主。

You're jealous aren't you, kid?

This was tricky because neither Anya or I could think of the right word (kid) that had the correct amount of condescension and playful teasing. I started with “little one” as a placeholder, but that really didn’t sound right. I had the urge to change it to “young padawan” but didn’t. Hilariously, and completely unprompted, in the editing notes Anya mentioned the first thing that came to mind for them was “young padawan”. It was tempting, but I knew there had to be a better solution. I stared at this line for ages working on the second draft before coming up with “kid”.

なんか理事長らしくないというか、ちょっと、いけないひとみたい。

It's just, you're not very chairman-like. You're like… You're like the kind of person grown-ups would warn me about.

Another doozy of a line. The direct translation of this would be “It’s just, you’re not very chairman like. You’re like a bad* person.” Big asterisk next to “bad” because Utena isn’t saying “bad person” like we use that two word phrase in English (to mean “a person who is selfish and does harm to others”). いけない in this context is similar to “not to be done”, “not allowed”, “forbidden” (as in “you are forbidden from staying at your boyfriend’s place overnight”, but not really “forbidden” as in “the forbidden fruit”), or “bad” as in “the bad boy”. A lot of subtlties to get across for just one word out of the sentence, which is why this translation has blown out so much. The short noun phrase いけない人みたい has been translated into the lengthy “You're like the kind of person grown-ups would warn me about”. Despite the length, I do like this translation a lot and I think it captures Utena’s immaturity and internal conflict well.

Thank you as always to my editor @dontbe-lasanya! This project and this episode in particular wouldn't be possible without you!

Follow the blog to see new episodes as they're released. As an aside, I've finally gotten around to posting the raw subtitle files on the google drive, so check that out if you're interested in encoding some video yourself. You can find that and all the episodes released so far here:

Rose divider taken from this post.

[elvensorceress]

sunday snippet

tagging beloveds @tizniz @hippolotamus @sofa-king-lame @livinginsunnyhell @capseycartwright @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @daffi-990 @fiona-fififi @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @buddiegriefhookup @buckleydiaz @eddiediazisascorpio @jeeyunspetrat @bekkachaos @sazanahashi @kejfeblintz @inell @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie @smilingbuckley if any of you want to share something np 💕

from the almost final chapter of my Eddie in El Paso fic that I just posted yay!

“Mom, I don’t understand. Why are you bringing this up? You’ve been telling me— threatening me with lawyers and asking me to sign papers to give up my son. You keep telling me to think about Chris and what he needs and that’s all I do.”

She shakes her head and sighs like he’s wrong. “You don’t even see it. I’m sorry, honey. It’s not your fault that girl ruined you. Of course you were going to be tempted. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think about it.”

That girl? Shannon, he assumes. There’s not been any other “girl.” Not really. They were all shades of the original. “Shannon didn’t ruin me, Mom. And none of that matters now. She’s gone. She’s been gone for six years. This isn’t about her. She’s not—”

“Isn’t she the reason you hurt Christopher? Isn’t that why he left you and can’t be around you?”

Words and breath die in Eddie’s chest. 

Yes. That’s why. Something like that. 

But he won’t ever do that again. He will never choose anything but Chris. 

Except. Doesn’t Chris need Eddie to also choose himself? Isn’t that part of why Chris is hurt and angry? If Eddie relies on only Chris for his happiness, then it burdens his son. Then he never has a life of his own. Then he makes bad, thoughtless choices and pushes aside what he actually wants. And he gets stuck in a DOA relationship that he doesn’t want to be in because he’s so desperate to be happy and healed and “moved on” and not alone that all he does is lie and pretend. Which makes Chris even more angry because Eddie is being nothing but fake (toxic) and Chris has to know that it’s miserable. Eddie’s a good liar but Chris knows him better than the lies. 

And Eddie doesn’t want to lie anymore. He’s happy. He could be so happy. He has someone who loves him and knows him and it’s so comfortable and wonderful and he’s never felt anything like what he feels when he’s with Buck. Buck is joy. Pure, unadulterated love and joy. 

“I’m not going to do that again,” Eddie tells her. “It’s over. I should’ve realized that a long time ago. But I get it now. I know I screwed up.” But he learned better. He learned what a committed loving relationship actually is like. He learned what real love is. “She’s not a ghost hanging over me anymore. I moved on. For real this time. And I have made something of myself. I help people. That’s what I do. Every day. The house is in progress, I bought it to work on. How have I ‘fallen’? Why do you want to take Chris from me? What are we talking about here?”

She clenches her jaw and breathes slowly. 

She’s never angry. She never shows any— does she? No, she tells Eddie’s dad about whatever makes her upset so he’ll yell at Eddie for hours. His mom never gets angry. She’s never anything out of place. 

“Honey, you’re confused. This always happens to you, and you don’t even realize.” She lightly rubs his arms and it feels like itching, crawling insects and awfulness. “I want what’s best for you and Christopher. I only want to protect you both. Let’s get your things, whatever you need, let’s go home.” 

[humanradiojmp]

Even before the making Jesus gay part, the description of what the series is about also raised some red flags. How it’s based on the “unofficial gospels” (like, what is that? Why not use just the original, officially recognized gospels that have been preserved and carefully translated multiple times? Why use anything else?). It makes me think of those conspiracies of how there’s other texts that should be part of the biblical canon and have been purposefully taken out, as if the Nicaea Council means nothing. But then one could make the argument that the Bible is inherently fallible and could be wrong on some points and it’s a lot more open to interpretation than you’d think and you could say Jesus was gay or not actually God or whatever you want to say.

Which, respectfully, no.

Then it goes on to say Jesus as a political figure. Y’all, he was not a political figure. He wasn’t conservative or liberal or whatever modern term that would be anachronistic to use to describe first century times. Of a different country. Some of his followers tried to start an uprising and make him king and he refused because that’s not what he was on earth for. Making him another radical political figure negates who he is and what his death was about and what it was for.

Not to mention with it being about Judas (and now knowing the gay part) it almost makes it out to be Iike all those remakes and rewrites of different characters and franchises where the villain wasn’t really that bad and they were just misunderstood and it’s ok if they wanted to skin puppies alive for their fur or cursed a baby for petty reasons because it’s hashtag relatable. Granted, Judas did come to regret betraying Jesus and took his life. And I wouldn’t say he’s a villain. But he still did make the conscious decision to betray Jesus. He was one of the twelve and likely (PLATONICALLY) loved Jesus, but he loved money more and sold Jesus over to the religious leaders. If it focused on Judas perspective on him being tempted by Satan giving into it and then realizing with horror what he did, it could make for a compelling tragedy. But it doesn’t seem to be the case here.

(And this is a completely personal nitpick, but something about them being animals doesn’t sit well with me. I’m not opposed to using antimorphic characters for storytelling in most cases; we have VeggieTales so why not animals as well. I think it’s just the choice of animals maybe? IDK, it doesn’t seem right to me is all)

it's honestly a bit disappointing because the animation looks good (I'm a sucker for bright contrasting colors used in visual media) and it could be another example of well-made Christian media, but it isn't. I had a feeling from the little bit of the trailer I saw that it wasn't actually going to be accurate, and this post just confirms it. Honestly to a degree, I'm not that surprised. we're seeing a rise in well-made God-honoring film media, but in turn, we're also seeing the opposite come about, where media is coming out that's slandering God and Jesus and who they are and what Christ did (the remake of Chronicles of Narnia being a prime example). I just hope it doesn't discourage anyone from making good Christian films, and maybe being inspired to do better and more accurately (turn to the side to see myself in the mirror)

like theology? like animation? i do, and i am currently LOSING MY MIND over the judas iscariot film on kickstarter!!

Judas Iscariot is an animated retelling of The New Testament of the Holy Bible, featuring details from the Apocrypha (The "Unofficial" Gospels) with a fresh stylized reinterpretation of the story's core figures. The goal of this project is to illuminate this text for both a religious and non-religious audience, placing it back into the historical context of Jesus’s role as a political figure during the Roman occupation of Judea.

the film is over 50% funded, with a month left on kickstarter! i just donated $10 myself, and am looking to spread the word--because seriously, look, this is incredible!!

[killerlookz]

queen do u have a preview of anything your writing currently 🙁

yes.... indeed i do!...... I don't feel like screenshotting so ill just copy and paste a blurb from something im working on currently...

WIP: vamp! joost x innocent!/virgin! reader ..... whew

warnings: just rpf! i haven't gotten to the spicy spicy stuff yet so... pretty tame preview before this gets...... freaky

"You want to light that?"

"Huh?" You nearly gasp, head snapping in Joost's direction.

"The candle." He points to your lap.

"Oh-uh, could you?" You look down at the white candle, it's misshapen from use, little crescent moon shapes litter its sides from where you had dug your fingernails into it.

"Of course," He smiles, a glimmer of something in his eyes, you can't quite put your finger on it- its almost devious, yet you can't help but give him a shaky smile back, like he's drawing you towards him.

Joost lifts his hips off the couch slightly as he reaches for the back pocket of his jeans, the tight fitted tank top he wears rides up his stomach slightly, exposing a strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. You bite the insides of your cheeks, noticing the trail of blonde hairs that trail from just under his belly button to below the buckle of his belt. You blink a few times, attempting to avert your gaze. How pathetic, weak, tempted by such a measly amount of flesh.

He settles back onto the couch, lighter in hand,

"Are you there?" He chuckles. You shut your eyes for a moment, embarrassed at how he always seemed to notice the small intricacies of your behavior.

"Y-eah." Your voice breaking for a moment, quickly shoving the candle away from you, eager to just have Joost light it now.

"What's the hurry," Joost extends a hand to grab it from you, his fingers brushing over yours as he reaches for the candle. They're like ice, the sudden sensation causing you to suck in a small gasp, "Is something wrong?*" He asks at your clear startle.

"You're so cold," You nearly whisper, shocked, horrified even. A sudden wave of concern overwhelms you, had something been wrong with him?

Your concern is merely met with a dry laugh, and a rhetorical, "You think so?" A small smirk appearing on his face as his hand climbs further up yours, fingers snaking around your wrist. You clutch the candle that still sits perched in your hand, your tight grip preventing your fingers from trembling in Joost's icy grip.

"A-are you okay? Are you sick?" Your face drops into a frown, your worry unwavering.

"Oh, I'm fine" He coos, his voice sickly sweet, smirk still sticking to his lips, "You're too cute." He shakes his head, his grip suddenly loosening on your wrist, "Let me have this, hm?" As his other hand grabs the handle from your sturdy grasp. You remain in the same position even as the object is removed from your grip, your fingers remaining in the same position as your hand remains in front of you.

You can't help but continue to stare at Joost, eyes widening in bewilderment, he was a complete and utter mystery to you, an enigma. You didn't understand a thing about him, why he was the way he was, and why you found yourself so latched on to him. He seemed to intrigue you twice as much as he terrified you.

Your breath is shaky as you inhale

"Why are you so…"

"So…?" He trails off as his thumb flicks against the metallic wheel of his lighter, a small orange flame erupting, which he presses to the wick of the candle, "Cold?" He finishes.

"Yeah…" Exhale.

"You really want to know?"

[fallershipping]

Giratina and Volo Ramblings:

What does it mean that Volo "gave" Giratina "the opportunity to create the rift" ?

Lending it his strength... But also saying that Volo made Giratina open the rift. Kinda just like a trainer bonding with a Pokemon. Maybe the opportunity given was as simple as Volo giving the command for Giratina to tear a hole in spacetime.

I think about this super leaked concept art of Giratina 3000 years before XY, LONG before Legends Arceus, fighting in a war it would supposedly have no business being in.

I think "banished for its violence" is that Giratina is eager to fight, eager to get involved with humans and be a part of petty squabbles and all out war. It is a chaotic dragon, whether its a species or a singular entity. The way it's called a "hooligan" or "troublemaker" or "aggressive one" in japanese instead of the "banished" title makes me think it's just not this satanic evil being that tempts the weak but like... Just not a good influence and temperamental, which is dangerous since it's so powerful.

So maybe it has a distaste for Arceus because Arceus seems to want the primordial dragons to stop fucking around with humans. To like.. leave them alone and stay out of wars and causing destruction. Their presence in Hisui already led to a bitter hatred between the Diamond and Pearl clans and that's not helping anyone. But Giratina LOVES getting into toxic relationships.

And I think that is why it turned tail and ran the moment it lost with Volo. I don't think Giratina wanted to do what Volo's ambition was. Volo had... VERY lofty and dangerous ambitions to himself and to others. His mental health is Not Good and Giratina is only making it worse. But Giratina wants to be with humans, wants the lives of humans and deity dragons to always intersect.

I think it had several moments of regret, especially when the world was nearly irreparably damaged by Dialga and Palkia going haywire. So it ran off and decided to protect the region from the world that is NOT its hellish punishment but its home.

I think Volo doesn't know what he's getting himself into by trying to challenge Arceus or draw it out from hiding. I think he's just.... Really hurt. Hurt by his culture being wiped from existence, hurt by new people desecrating his homeland with strife (diamond and pearl clans are canonically immigrants), hurt by stuff that happened to him personally, and now hurt that the Pokemon he worshiped refuses to see him and befriends another human. He's very similar to Kieran in that regard, and it drove Volo to be antagonistic. It's not a pardon, but an explanation.

idk what would have happened if Volo even met Arceus. I don't think it would have been any outcome he wanted. It is a nature god that will protect itself if threatened and cornered by something hunting it like prey. It is also aloof and uncaring to what's basically an ant to it.

Volo and Giratina truly are both "You can't always get what you want" and "fuck around and find out"

[madamejadex]

i have some fun questions 🌷🌺🌸

1. do you like the idea of spitting in your partners mouth?

2. you really enjoy being on the giving side of impact play, would you ever want to receive that from a sub too?

3. do you have a crush on any bloggers/moots?

4. how do you feel about corruption? if you like it, what's your favorite type of corruption? (religious, making them like ur kinks, slowly manipulate them -consensually- to start to like something that was originally a limit, etc etc etc)

5. what's your favorite color lingerie to wear? what's your favorite color lingerie to see on your partner?

6. when is the last time you touched yourself? what were you thinking of?

i hope these were okay 🥰

Hello there, sweet one.

Oh? Questions for me, hmm? Well, let’s see what that curious little mind of yours is wondering about today…

1. Do you like the idea of spitting in your partner’s mouth? Mmm, yes, when the mood is right. It’s not something I throw into every scene, but there’s something deliciously degrading about that slow, intentional dribble rather than the forceful spitting. It’s intimate in its own filthy way… claiming, controlling. I much prefer it drawn out as I watch my submissive open wide for me, waiting, needing. The tension of it… that’s what I enjoy most.

2. You really enjoy being on the giving side of impact play. Would you ever want to receive that from a submissive, too? No, darling. Impact play is something I give, not receive. It doesn’t arouse me to be struck, and it draws me far too close to a headspace I have no desire to explore. It makes me feel submissive, which doesn’t align with who I am. When I wield pain, it’s a gift. When I pull the sounds and trembles from your body, that’s when I’m in my element. And that’s exactly where I like to stay.

3. Do you have a crush on any bloggers or mutuals? Mmm… now, aren’t you bold? Let’s just say… there are certainly a few sweet things around here who know exactly how to tempt me. But I think I’ll keep that little secret for myself. For now. *smirks*

4. How do you feel about corruption? If you like it, what’s your favorite type, religious, introducing kinks, shifting boundaries, etc.? Oh, I love soft corruption. And one of my favorites are: Taboo Play as Corruption

Which is taking something they swore they’d never do and showing them how good it feels to give in:

Exhibitionism when they were shy.

Humiliation after saying “I don’t think I could ever be degraded.”

Pet play after insisting they’re “not into that weird stuff.”

“You said this was wrong. So why are you dripping on my boot, begging to be called my pet?”

And make no mistake, a true corruption scene takes planning. It’s not something you stumble into. It requires trust, timing, and a deep understanding of your partner’s psyche. But when done right? It’s devastating. Addictive. Beautiful. And I do love to plan.

5. What’s your favorite color of lingerie to wear? And what do you like to see your partner wear? For myself? I favor deep, rich tones like dark emerald, and dark purple but also black. There’s something about that depth of color that makes me feel undeniable. But on my submissives? Mmm… I appreciate all colors, truly. But I have a soft spot for white lingerie. It’s the illusion of purity that gets me. That sweet, delicate innocence all wrapped up in lace… right before I ruin it completely.

6. When is the last time you touched yourself? What were you thinking of? Last night. I had some very enticing photos to enjoy… and an imagination that tends to misbehave when left unsupervised. Let’s just say I took my time, and enjoyed myself thoroughly. But a lady never tells all her secrets, now does she? *smirks*

Curious little thing, aren’t you? Keep that up… and who knows what else I might answer for you next time.

xo Miss Jade

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

A smile touched your face when the hand on your hip gripped you tighter. Carefully turning to face the man beside you who still had his eyes closed, you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your smile widened when he leaned into your touch. Asleep or awake, he always sought it out. And this was a person who didn't let most people touch him.  But I can because he’s my man. 

Period 😌

“Morning, my treasure.” The affectionate pet name was one you'd never grow tired of. It did make you giggle the first time he called you that. He had lots of money, more than you could ever fathom, and could buy all the treasures he could ever desire, yet he thought you were treasure. His most precious thing. 

Urgh what a great backstory for the nickname 🥰

“Slept very well. I had very good dreams.” His nose brushed your forehead before his lips touched it. You were happy to hear that. “In fact, I can show you exactly what I dreamt about if you’d like.”

Oop 👀

Bucky didn't ask for much. One of the only things he requested when you began your journey together was that you’d sit and have meals with him. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a time for the two of you to talk about anything and everything, though he preferred to focus on the present and the future instead of the past. You understood. You didn't like dwelling on the past either since your life was much happier now. 

I think that's a fair request and also nice thing to built a routine together

He arched an eyebrow, looking cool as ever. “What if I want you for breakfast?” He brought his lips to yours, not giving you a chance to argue that you hadn't brushed your teeth. He didn't care about things like that. “You wouldn't let me starve, would you?”

I think we all know the answer to that 😌

“How could I not want you? Even if I resisted, your skills of seduction are dangerous.” You gasped when a massive thigh pushed between your legs. “Moya Sladkaya, you think I’m seductive?” he purred, making you shiver as the sound vibrated through your body. “Yes and you know you are.” You bit your lip as his thigh shifted, gliding along your heat. It was tempting to ride it. “Your voice, your eyes, your mouth, your body. Partially why you became my sugar daddy.”

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️🤭

He growled as he suddenly rolled on top of you. “I'm your boyfriend,” he corrected you, holding your gaze. He looked hungry. “Who happened to wipe out your debt the way a sugar daddy would.”

Nice coincidence 🤭

The gentle scrape of his teeth over your neck set your blood on fire. “If I’m insatiable, it’s your fault. One look at you and I was a goner,” he whispered, a hand moving possessively between your bodies. His thumb brushed your nipple into a taut peak, your back arching to seek out more of him. “You brought beauty and joy back to my world. You saved me, you know that?” Unexpected tears burned behind your lids. He lived in a world of gray for so long. The least you could do after everything was bring him some light. “You saved me, too,” you breathed. He got to be your hero. You got to be his treasure. A fair trade in his eyes.

🥰🥰🥰

You gasped when he nipped at your racing pulse. “Don’t do that. Don't compliment me. This isn’t about me.” Both of you had a tendency to deflect praise at times, but it was something you were working on. And while he didn’t view himself as a hero, he did save you in his own way. 

That's cute that they both do it 🥺🥰

“Don’t get cocky,” you groaned, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against you. Thick. Hard. You shuddered with the need for him to just take you. “Actually, you have every right to be cocky. You’ve ruined me.” He brought his face up to yours, close enough that he breathed against your lips. “I haven't ruined you yet.” His promise had you trembling, wishing he’d tear you apart without a second thought.

Heavy on the yet 🤭

He watched your blissful expression with dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “That’s what I dreamt about.” His rumbling words had your thighs trembling. “You underneath me, taking every inch of my cock, begging to come.”

Yeah I dream the same thing, weird 🤭😅

Butterflies filled your stomach. It wasn’t a proposal, but it still felt like he was asking in a way. “Do you mean in this bed? As long as we can have our meals here and do movie nights. Oh, and a way to clean the sheets because they’ll be filthy.” His eyes crinkled again as he chuckled. How did a laugh sound both wholesome and seductive? That was the power of Bucky Barnes. “And sex to keep us in shape,” he said, pulling the sheet more over you. “Sounds perfect, even if I don’t deserve it.”

A perfect life 🥰

Your heart swelled. He was so gone for you. “I’m not asking you to let me go,” you said, turning his head back to you until his eyes opened. “I’m your treasure, remember? Yours to keep.” The hard edges to his face softened once again. “C’mere,” he breathed.

🥰🥰🥰

You met him halfway when he leaned in, his lips only on yours for a second when the doorbell rang. You were about to ask if he was expecting company, but he didn’t have to with the way his body tensed. He turned away from you, his phone in hand to check the camera at the front door. Security was important to him. “What the hell?”

Beside a rude interruption I have a bad feeling about this 👀

Diamonds and Steel - Intro

Pairing: Retired Hitman!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky treats you to a getaway, but peace won't last for long.

Word Count: Over 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, established relationship, dirty talk, talk of violence and nightmares, world building, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: So, I wrote this intro months ago. I feel like this Bucky would get along with our alpha. Thanks @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in from the balcony door woke you slowly. You weren't sure what time it was as you squinted against the brightness with a small stretch, the spacious bedroom becoming brighter with each passing second. You had only been in the villa for a day, but it was your new favorite place. Thanks in large part to the person who brought you here. 

A smile touched your face when the hand on your hip gripped you tighter. Carefully turning to face the man beside you who still had his eyes closed, you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your smile widened when he leaned into your touch. Asleep or awake, he always sought it out. And this was a person who didn't let most people touch him. 

But I can because he’s my man. 

Bucky Barnes, a man who was intimidating even laying down. Tall with wide shoulders, built like a warrior with a few scars to prove it. You moved a finger through his nearly trimmed beard and almost wished he'd open his steely eyes so you could gaze into them. He unnerved many with his stare, but he always looked at you as if you were the reason he saw the light of day. Burying your face in his neck with a sigh, it gave you a sense of peace when he pulled you closer to him on instinct. 

“Morning, my treasure.” The affectionate pet name was one you'd never grow tired of. It did make you giggle the first time he called you that. He had lots of money, more than you could ever fathom, and could buy all the treasures he could ever desire, yet he thought you were treasure. His most precious thing. 

“Morning,” you whispered, shifting so your body could melt into his more. 

He moaned appreciatively as your hips moved closer. “How did you sleep?” He tipped your chin up so he could look at you, the sleep fading quickly from his eyes. It didn't matter that he just woke up, he looked as handsome as ever and knocked the wind right out of you. It was highly doubtful you looked beautiful having just woken up, but he’d say looked perfect if you asked. 

“I slept well,” you answered. You had good dreams, including one of the two of you sitting on soft white sand and watching the waves crash in the glittering ocean. You could go anywhere in the world you wanted now thanks to him. “Did you?”

Bucky warned you when you entered your relationship with him that he sometimes had trouble sleeping. Bouts of insomnia and occasional nightmares. You witnessed one first-hand near the beginning when he woke up in a cold sweat, his hand clenched like he was holding a weapon and empty eyes like he couldn't see what was right in front of him. He didn't like to talk about his past and could only tell you later on that all he saw were bullets and blood. 

His haunted gaze broke your heart. 

“Slept very well. I had very good dreams.” His nose brushed your forehead before his lips touched it. You were happy to hear that. “In fact, I can show you exactly what I dreamt about if you’d like.”

Need slammed into you at the implication, your palms itching to feel his hardened body as he held you closer. You wanted to trace the scars, the tattoos. Every inch of him. “Sure you don't want breakfast first?”

Bucky didn't ask for much. One of the only things he requested when you began your journey together was that you’d sit and have meals with him. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a time for the two of you to talk about anything and everything, though he preferred to focus on the present and the future instead of the past. You understood. You didn't like dwelling on the past either since your life was much happier now. 

He arched an eyebrow, looking cool as ever. “What if I want you for breakfast?” He brought his lips to yours, not giving you a chance to argue that you hadn't brushed your teeth. He didn't care about things like that. “You wouldn't let me starve, would you?”

The low heat from his voice seared through your core, wrapping around you like the satin sheet that covered you both. It was the only thing covering you in fact, your clothes strewn across the floor the night before. He had you keep the diamond pendant on, a gift he had given you when you arrived at the villa. It was beautiful.

The diamond to his steel.

“As if you’d ever starve. Your appetite for me is borderline gluttonous,” you teased. Guilt flickered in his eyes before you put a hand to his cheek, his expression shifting back to normal. “Hey, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I love that you want me.”

Oh, did Bucky want you. His face buried between your thighs, his cock spearing you open. If he didn't have you in bed, he had you against a wall or bent over the nearest surface. Not a day went by that he didn't give you at least one orgasm, like he was making up for lost time apart before you even knew each other. It didn't make sense to you some days that a man as gorgeous and worldly as him could have anyone he wanted, but chose you. 

“And I love you wanting me,” he said. You didn't just want him. You ached for him, inside and out. How could one man hold such power over you? To be fair, the balance of power was equal in some ways since you affected him the same way.

“How could I not want you? Even if I resisted, your skills of seduction are dangerous.”

You gasped when a massive thigh pushed between your legs. “Moya Sladkaya, you think I’m seductive?” he purred, making you shiver as the sound vibrated through your body.

“Yes and you know you are.” You bit your lip as his thigh shifted, gliding along your heat. It was tempting to ride it. “Your voice, your eyes, your mouth, your body. Partially why you became my sugar daddy.”

He growled as he suddenly rolled on top of you. “I'm your boyfriend,” he corrected you, holding your gaze. He looked hungry. “Who happened to wipe out your debt the way a sugar daddy would.”

“That’s still crazy to me,” you remarked. 

“That I wiped out your debt or that I’m your boyfriend?”

You twirled a bit of his hair around your finger. “Both,” you whispered. Living a debt free life was something you hadn't thought possible until he showed up. Now you had a life without the stress of bills and work, and also one where you felt loved and cared for. He gave you that and more. “But it’s crazy in the best possible way.”

“So it’s a good thing I'm crazy about you,” he smirked.

“Crazy about me?” You put a hand to his forehead. “Hmm. I think you should have your head examined.”

Bucky took your hand and brought it to his mouth, his expression blank. “No one needs to look inside my head,” he said, his eyes warm again as he kissed your palm. It seemed to push out whatever memory undoubtedly crept into his mind. “Because if someone could, they’d see all the dirty things I've done to you and no one else needs to see that.”

You giggled as he nudged your legs apart. “Yes, you’ve done a lot of dirty things to me,” you teased, your eyes slipping shut as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. Just two days ago he had you naked in his lap with your arms tied behind your back while he fed you dessert. And then he had you for dessert. “You’re insatiable.”

The gentle scrape of his teeth over your neck set your blood on fire. “If I’m insatiable, it’s your fault. One look at you and I was a goner,” he whispered, a hand moving possessively between your bodies. His thumb brushed your nipple into a taut peak, your back arching to seek out more of him. “You brought beauty and joy back to my world. You saved me, you know that?”

Unexpected tears burned behind your lids. He lived in a world of gray for so long. The least you could do after everything was bring him some light. “You saved me, too,” you breathed. He got to be your hero. You got to be his treasure. A fair trade in his eyes.

You gasped when he nipped at your racing pulse. “Don’t do that. Don't compliment me. This isn’t about me.” Both of you had a tendency to deflect praise at times, but it was something you were working on. And while he didn’t view himself as a hero, he did save you in his own way. 

“You’re a good man,” you said softly, fiercely. He didn't think he was because of some of the things he had done, because of the blood on his hands, but he wasn’t a bad person. “I mean it, Bucky.”

He sighed, scraping his beard against your skin affectionately. “I know you do.” He took his time sliding his hand down your torso, your breath leaving your lungs at the same slow speed. “But I want to compliment you, so take what I give you.”

You'd be sure to compliment him again later. “Not the only thing you’ll tell me to take, is it?” You giggled when he growled again. Getting under his skin was a lot of fun. “We both know I take you so well. Just like I take every drop you spill into me, no matter which hole you choose.”

He made a sound between a moan and a growl. You didn't think your dirty talk was the best by any means, but he loved it. “And you call me insatiable,” he said, his fingers exquisitely gentle as they found your wetness. “Always wet and ready for me, eager for me to fill all of your holes.”

“Don’t get cocky,” you groaned, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against you. Thick. Hard. You shuddered with the need for him to just take you. “Actually, you have every right to be cocky. You’ve ruined me.”

He brought his face up to yours, close enough that he breathed against your lips. “I haven't ruined you yet.” His promise had you trembling, wishing he’d tear you apart without a second thought. 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, heat curling in your stomach as he slipped a calloused finger inside you. Your hands moved to his arms, his muscles rippling as he pumped it deep. Your sensitive walls clenched as he added another, a delicious tease of what was to come. How did your need for him continue to grow with each day that passed?

Bucky broke the kiss, your breathing heavy as he continued to toy with you. “After breakfast, I want your cunt pulsing on my tongue,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, a thrill shooting from your head to your toes. You’d be content to spend the rest of your life sitting on his face if you could get away with it.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, pleasure mounting as his fingers curled. You tried to hold back the familiar cresting waves, wanting his cock inside you when you let it wash over you. “Make love to me. Fuck me. Just get your cock in me.”

Slowly removing his fingers, your hole clenching around nothing, he smirked as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. The stark hunger in his gaze at the taste of you nearly made you orgasm. “Well, since you’re so desperate for me,” he teased, gripping the base of his cock and lining the head against your hole. 

“I’m desperate?” Your voice cracked when he slid into you in one deep thrust. Your fingers dug into his biceps, adjusting to the size of him as he looked into your eyes. He was searching for any discomfort or pain. There was none there. Your body would always welcome him home. 

“Yes. Desperate.” You couldn't deny that when Bucky moved his hips. Deep, long strokes, the drag of his cock making you feel almost mindless. No one before him made you desperate. No one else ever would. “Wet. Tight. Beautiful. Perfect.”

You gasped, rolling your hips up to meet his. “I’m not-” He cut you off with a kiss, silencing your protest that you weren't perfect. You were anything but. Like everyone, you had flaws. Imperfections. It was like he didn't see them or they didn't exist in his eyes. 

“Yes, you fucking are,” he growled, making you cry out when he thrust hard. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he crushed your chests together, your heart matching the rhythm of his. You held onto him like you never wanted to let him go. “My perfect treasure.”

Heat engulfed you as he reached between you and slid his fingers along your clit. Your hips bucked, your arousal climbing and taking you higher. The handsome man above you canting his hips and groaning as you keened had your body begging for release. 

“Bucky, please. I need to come,” you whined. You didn't need his permission, but you still begged for it. 

He watched your blissful expression with dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “That’s what I dreamt about.” His rumbling words had your thighs trembling. “You underneath me, taking every inch of my cock, begging to come.”

A hand worked its way to his hair and gripped it, trying to ground yourself from the sensations rushing through you. The edges of your vision blurred as your body wound tighter, ready to give yourself over to the pleasure only he could provide. “Please, Bucky,” you said. At least you thought you said it. The waves were ready to sweep you away. 

“Come for me.” His husky voice wasn't one to be denied. “Make my dream come true.”

Your head fell back, your walls fluttering around his cock as you went over the precipice. Blood roared in your ears, but you could still hear him moan your name as you spiraled out of control. His body followed your lead, pumping his hips a few more times before he came with a deep moan. Feeling him flood your insides and seeing ecstasy fill his gorgeous eyes made you grip him like a vice all over again. 

Bucky pulled you close when he gently collapsed on the bed, staying inside you as long as he could. Your body fit against his like you were designed just for him and you couldn't help but smile as you caught your breath. He smiled, too. A gorgeous, carefree smile. 

“Dream come true?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat when his smile widened and eyes crinkled. 

“Even better,” he whispered, cupping your cheek and skimming his lips against yours in a soft kiss. “Can we just stay like this?

You rubbed your cheek against his hand as the hazy cloud lifted. “If that’s what you want.”

“I meant forever,” he half teased, his hand reaching for yours to trace your bare finger.

Butterflies filled your stomach. It wasn’t a proposal, but it still felt like he was asking in a way. “Do you mean in this bed? As long as we can have our meals here and do movie nights. Oh, and a way to clean the sheets because they’ll be filthy.”

His eyes crinkled again as he chuckled. How did a laugh sound both wholesome and seductive? That was the power of Bucky Barnes. “And sex to keep us in shape,” he said, pulling the sheet more over you. “Sounds perfect, even if I don’t deserve it.”

You tilted your head, gazing at the man who turned your world upside down as the happiness slowly slipped from his face. Like how your body ached for his, your heart ached for him, too. “You do deserve this. You're not a bad man, Bucky.” He needed to hear it again. You'd tell him as many times as it took until it sank in. 

His jaw twitched, his eyes holding a hint of regret. “I’ve killed people,” he reminded you in an even tone.

“I know,” you whispered. You accepted that it was part of his past and who he was. You accepted him. “That doesn’t make you unworthy of me.”

His eyes closed, his hold on you firmer. “It would almost be easier if you condemned me, but I’m a selfish man who wouldn’t be able to let you go.”

Your heart swelled. He was so gone for you. “I’m not asking you to let me go,” you said, turning his head back to you until his eyes opened. “I’m your treasure, remember? Yours to keep.”

The hard edges to his face softened once again. “C’mere,” he breathed. You met him halfway when he leaned in, his lips only on yours for a second when the doorbell rang. You were about to ask if he was expecting company, but he didn’t have to with the way his body tensed. He turned away from you, his phone in hand to check the camera at the front door. Security was important to him. “What the hell?”

“Who is it?” You sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as he got up and threw something on. You couldn’t even appreciate the view since his entire demeanor changed. “And should I go with you?”

His jaw twitched again. “Delivery guy dropped something off and left. Hang back a little,” he answered before he grabbed you a robe. He’d preferred you close as opposed to being in the bedroom alone. “I don’t want anyone seeing you if they’re still nearby.”

“Lots of people see me,” you tried to joke. You stopped smiling when he swung his head your way. He took your safety very seriously. “I’ll hang back.”

Taking your hand, he headed to the front of the villa. Your legs shook a bit, but you blamed that on the orgasm he gave you and not fear. He stopped you before you could reach the door, giving you a quick, hard kiss. It left you breathless when he pulled away. “Stay right here,” he whispered, your heart pounding as he grabbed one of his many hidden guns. 

Weapons everywhere, a habit he’d never break.

You couldn’t see his expression when he went out to retrieve whatever was dropped off, but you understood his paranoia since he lived a dangerous life before. Not a lot of people knew where you were going on this vacation and he clearly wasn't expecting a delivery. “What is it?” you asked once he put the gun away and went back to you. A smile touched your lips when you saw the arrangement of various red flowers. “Those are beautiful.”

“They’re addressed to you.” He plucked the card from the holder to show you, his mouth set in a grim line. “But I didn’t order these.”

Dread filled you as you took the card from him and turned it over. Your name was the only thing written on it, minus a small stamp in the corner you hadn’t seen before: a heart and dagger. “Well, if you didn’t get me these, who did?”

“Someone from my past,” he said so quietly he almost missed it. 

Your eyes widened. “Why would someone from your past send me flowers?” As far as you knew he didn't keep in touch with most of his old associates. “And how do they know we’re here?”

You stopped breathing when you saw his eyes. Cold. Deadly. “That’s what I'm going to find out.”

So much for staying in bed today.

OOH. What do we think so far? I wonder who from Bucky's past is going to pop up and why. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[guhamun]

❝I THINK MY SENSE of taste is just fine. Your cooking isn’t bad, Jiyan. Give yourself more credit.❞ At least he attempted to cook. Calcharo’s skills were rather basic at best, food just prepared enough to be edible, but not with the flare and ‘pizazz’ that someone like Panhua put into her meals. That was why he appreciated the effort that he knew that Jiyan had put into his stew back then. It might not have been up to par with anything that could be procured back in Jinzhou or in someone’s household. However, there was love behind every chopped vegetable or piece of meat, as miniscule as it was, put into each bowl. Such, to an extent, reminded him of the times that Calcharo had put fruit into the ration bars prepared in hopes that it would make things easier for the younger recruits in the Ghost Hounds. They hadn’t developed an iron stomach like veterans in the organization who weren’t all too picky about their food (anymore, at least). Lips curled slightly into a smirk once more, amusement present again. ❝Heh, by all means, please feed me, Mr. General. I won’t turn down anything you present to me. ❞

     His amusement still lingered even as Jiyan’s shoulder gently bumped against his own, Calcharo almost tempted to return the gesture in that small, rare bout of playfulness that tended to come to him when he was with the other man. Continuing with his meal, he let that familiar quiet fall between them naturally. Normally, he kept track of the time as such was often important in regards to whether a contract would be completed that day, or would have to go into the next. Clients liked things to be done quickly and sufficiently, and so, he made sure to see that was done. Right now, though, time didn’t really…matter. It was at the very back of his thoughts, a small part of himself wishing that there were just more hours in the day for whenever he was with Jiyan, talking like this. When the quiet did break, he was a bit surprised by the new topic. ❝Mm…they must have caught me talking to her about edible plants. Those can often be used as supplement for meals prepared, or in case of an emergency, can keep hunger at bay for a few hours while you search for something more sustainable.❞

     Just having something settle in your stomach was often enough to help you keep going another day. Hunger was truly a horrible thing to experience. Your stomach felt like it was trying to devour itself, and all you would want to do is lie down and hope the pain would go away. There was a small pause from him come what was said next, a small, noncommittal hum being Jiyan’s answer to that particular question. ❝She’s someone who had to learn plants in order to survive, and because of that, she loves and appreciates them. Her desire to see others happy and thriving, also helps push her to try to spread joy and knowledge of what she understands most: flora.❞ This was something he noticed without actually saying much to her when they had initially met. It was easy to recognize someone who was similar to yourself, and though her heart was far softer than his own, she was a survivor like him. ❝The Outriders are lucky to have her knowledge on hand.❞

     Jiyan hummed, content, as he savored each spoonful of the still warm stew. Fortunately for the mercenary leader, at no point did he notice how flustered they had become of his words. But, if he did, he would’ve been endeared by their reaction. After all, he just spoke his mind, nothing more, nothing less.

     He paused when his partner brought up his cooking, golden gaze lowering to his lap as he chewed slower before swallowing his food. "I really need to find a way to get you to stop relying on rations and follow a more varied diet. Your sense of taste must be suffering alterations if you do prefer my cooking over Panhua’s.” No, he wasn’t looking down on his cooking skills nor thought that Calcharo was lying, but… If they ever tried the food Ningwei prepared, they would see that he still has a long way to go. Even with the same ingredients in the same quantities, Ningwei can make something that's genuinely delicious.

“Well, this is the encouragement I needed to work on my cooking skills. If you’re going to prefer mine to Panhua’s, then I need to improve so you don’t sound like a madman when you say that.” The latter was said with a hint of amusement, shoulder gently bumping on his partner’s. Outriders and vanguards often spent hours, even days, in the wilderness with limited resources. Rations were supposed to be for emergencies only, so they had to work with what they had and what they could find in the wild. That was how the iconic iron shovel edodes were born. What mattered was that the rangers eventually got good at cooking out of necessity. Jiyan had improved a lot too (at least when compared to the bittberry dishes his mom liked to prepare), but his skills still were lacking. His excuse used to be that he didn’t really have the time to learn and that he could use his time more efficiently, but now that he has another reason to improve...

He’ll find the time, and surprise Calcharo with a delicious dish one of these days.

     That aside, it was easy to speak his honest thoughts and share his feelings with this man. It was so easy to talk and let the time fly with Calcharo. The only other situation in which he forgot about the passing of time was when he was concentrated on work, but this was nothing like it. A part of him wished to stretch this moment forever, hear about Calcharo’s day and the more mundane things that happened at the Ghost Hounds’ headquarters. Besides the caves with glowing minerals, what other locations really left an impression on the man? How many uniforms have they ruined so far because of their forte? What new rumors did the recruits hear before joining? He thinks that the rumors are reaching a comical point. Some of them even reached his ears, and he had to hold back a laugh after hearing them. After all…

     “Did you know that not all rumors about you are about your skills on the battlefield or the terror you inflict on those who wrong you? An outrider once said that they saw you nibbling on grass with Verina.” He knew Calcharo seemed like an odd man to many, but this rumor was just ridiculous, wasn’t it? There was no way Calcharo would nibble on grass. “You have been keeping an eye on her, haven’t you? Verina is a brilliant resonator. Many outriders have encountered her in the wilderness and, despite her young age, she has made great contributions in the finding and registration of new species of flora in Huanglong.”

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Hey, I don't normally make my own posts about this, but.

Do not argue with an anti on their own terms.

Don't get me wrong, I get it. You see the hypocrisy. You see the way they take aim at your favorite ships or characters or tropes while enjoying something similar. And you think "if I can point out to them just how hypocritical and idiotic they look right now, everyone will see our argument, they'll see that the anti is wrong and a hypocrite, and then maybe more people will stop harassing the people who like my thing. Maybe the anti will see the light and stop being a hypocrite."

But it will not work. It will not work.

There is an extremely high chance one of two things will occur:

They will double down on their argument, and ignore what you've said. (Ex. They might say "This relationship has an age gap. That's p3dophi1ia. That's dangerous." And you might say "well you ship something with the same age gap. Is it not p3dophi1ia and dangerous when you do it?" And they will just double down and say "This ship is dangerous. The shippers are grasping at straws to make their p3d0 ship normal.")

They will agree with you, but in the worst way possible. (Ex. Someone says "Ew your ship are basically siblings because they're childhood friends and grew up together. 1nc3st apologist." And you might respond "And yet we allow our most popular ship in this fandom to be popular? They grew up together as childhood friends and were inseparable. Why is that not inc3st?" because you think they'll gain a sense of perspective here. But then that person responds "People who ship that popular ship are freaks too then." Maybe they believed that before the convo or maybe they didn't, but the point now is that (while not your intention or fault by any means) some people have gone on to harass shippers of a ship that aren't doing anything wrong. What you think will bring clarity ends up raising tensions between shippers instead)

Do not meet them where they're at on their preconceived notions. You will not make them believe that they are wrong or hypocrites. Do not concede to their heavy assertions of abuse, p3dophi1ia, 1nc3st, etc levied against the thing you like for the sake of arguing that they are a hypocrite, or with intent to make them feel dumb for inadvertently labeling 80% of a fandom with said labels. They will not "see the light". The best thing you can do, if you have to say anything, is double down with "I'm not hurting anyone and it's fiction. I can do whatever I want" or "I don't give a shit what harmless things people like as long as it's tagged and I can filter out what I dislike" (especially if this is your stance). Then block and move on.

Antis, like trolls, thrive on engagement. They want you to argue so they can continue to point at you or lie about you or make you look bad.

It is in your best interest to pick your battles, and to try to sus out the difference between a friendly argument or standing up for yourself versus feeding the trolls. You won't make the right choice every time, all of us are human after all, but I promise you that ignoring and blocking bad faith actors, deleting their hate anons, etc, is not the coward's way out. Sometimes you don't need to fight. Sometimes keeping yourself from platforming bad faith actors and giving them nothing to go on will do the job (because there are more antis that are just small blogs with little power to do anything than you think, the kinds of people whose inflammatory posts will die if no one touches them).

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[whysamwhy123]

Hmmm. What if I attempted to write a piece of Trash and posted it anonymously?

[phoenixkaptain]

One could argue that my obsession with specifically the bloodier sections of Hannibal, the scenes that show humans in excruciating pain, as well as my obsession with Red Dragon’s depiction of Will’s imagination, painful and attractive in the most disgusting way, both paved the way for my becoming obsessed with such properties as Claustrophilia (a novel that honestly reads like Hannibal got his hands on season 1 Will, I’m dead serious, they even mention Silence of the Lambs, like, author knows) and Saw (a property thay pretty much deals exclusively in human suffering)

It could also explain my fascination with the idea inherent within all these properties, that being the idea that a human who is put through immense suffering might then decide to put other humans through the same or worse. Hannibal put a lot of emphasis on Hannibal himself specifically wanting Will to kill with him, to reveal his inner self, so to speak. Red Dragon Will fears killing people immensely for fear that he would be seduced by the bloodlust curdling inside of him. Claustrophilia, I don’t want to spoil if anyone wants to read it, but it shares that same idea. The only character in Saw who survives a Jigsaw trap without either joining a depressing group therapy session or becoming one of Jigsaw’s many (many) protegés is the lady who cut off her arm in, like, movie 6.

It could also explain why I like the idea of obsessive characters. Characters who are obsessed to the point of murder, characters with the internal motivation that if they cannot have something, no one can. The so-called “yandere” character who would rather kill their love than not have them locked in a box in the basement.

(Does Saw fit this frame? I don’t know, man, that one guy’s “trap” was just talking. All he had to do was sit calmly and have a semi-nice chat with another dude. Who sets that trap up without at least a little hint of obsession? And the glass coffin scene, man, I do not even have to go there, we all know. And carrying around the only remaining body part? Even for planting evidence, like, dude. Dude.)

(Does Red Dragon fit this? Yes. Hannibal literally stabbed Will so Will would be permanently physically changed by him. He gives the Dragon of the title Will’s address in hopes that something will happen that will once again change Will’s entire life so he can never forget about Hannibal. The first time Hannibal talks to Clarice in Silence of the Lambs, he asks about Will and, more specifically, Will’s looks. Red Dragon fits this, I cannot emphasize enough how many murderers want to break Will’s back in any way they can, like, it’s practically an epidemic (it’s two people))

What is it that fascinates me so? The blood? The fuel of all life? The changing a person so fundamentally that they can’t move without thinking of the one who changed them? The holding on too tight? The tragedy? The absolutely hilarious AUs that can be written? Yes.

[honorary-fool]

anyone else feeling the friday the 13th luck?

i accidentally sewed a sleeve on upside-down

upside fucking down

[xtodohdohdoyd]

I think the biggest thing that makes gwiles so weird to me is that peter IS RIGHT THERE i get it this is an alternate universe completely different Gwen from the original Gwen but it’s still so weird to me that they’re being romantic while peter is right there like i get it that’s a different Gwen but he loved his Gwen and failed to save her to me it just feels a like they’re just rubbing in, if Peter WASN’T RIGHT THERE I wouldn’t care i still wouldn’t ship it (because i don’t ship anything In spiderverse) but I wouldn’t be as weirded out by it as i am