#nefarious bee

[nefariousbee]

SHOP UPDATE

my Etsy will be launching on January 11!

prints of my work (from A6 up to A3), stickers and fridge magnets will be available

I will be publishing a discount code on my IG story on Wednesday, January 10 ❤️

[assassin-artist]

quick sketch turned to rough painting

[barkingandbarking]

Yeah sorry there’s no more room on the bed but I have a spare you can sleep in right here, don’t worry!

[holydivers]

in a fascinating statement, municipal code says that outdoor plants must be... kept free of insects.

[moonstruckme]

Happy birthday!! Apples pie: james potter with cartoon patterned plasters 💗💗

Thanks angel!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 236 words

“I don’t understand why it hurts so much,” James says, brown eyes a bit pouty as he watches you tend to his finger. “It’s worse than the time I cut myself and actually needed stitches.” 

“Paper cuts are the worst,” you agree. 

“They take something that shouldn’t even be able to cut you, logically, and make it sting like a thousand bees.” He shakes his head. “Nefarious.” 

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’ll handle the rest of the mail while you’re healing up, okay?” 

“Yeah, please. Just be careful, darling, it’s more dangerous than you’d—oi, what do you have there?” 

You pause. “A plaster.” 

James gives you a baffled look. “It’s beige.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You try to suppress your smile. “This was what was in the first aid kit. Would you like me to go to the bathroom to get the cartoon ones?” 

“Well,” he shrugs, a tad huffy, “I just figure that if I have to have a plaster on like a nerd, it may as well be a cool one.” 

You press your lips together. The efforts to keep your grin at bay are becoming terribly arduous. “And your cartoon plasters make you feel cool?” 

“Hey, I’m injured, don’t question me.” James frowns at you, but you can see the humor peeking through. 

“My bad.” You take his face in your hand, kissing him briefly on the lips. “I’ll be right back with that, handsome.” 

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 7: Seven Swans a-Swimming

☃️A Together Christmas☃️

Tags: [ex-husband!Booster Gold][fingering][cunnilingus][hear me out][he's 6 foot 5][Santa costume][fingering][strong womanxman child][uses of "miss"]

A/N: my Beta reader is asleep so it's not proofread T-T

❄️☃️❄️

"You don't look a day over 40."

If there was one thing you learnt in the 4 years of being married to Michael, it's that he will always try to provoke you whenever he sees you.

And right now is prime time for him.

Rip wants a 'together Christmas', where his divorced parents sit across from each other at the dinner table, passing various dishes rather than insults and nefarious commentary, and act like they can be in the same room without wanting to choke on a horizontal chicken wing.

"Michael, don't make me beat you with a hot muffin tray." You seethe, eyes locked on the tray of muffins that you're carefully pulling out of the oven, warmth and the scent of vanilla filling the kitchen.

Michael watches the curve of your neck as you carefully inspect each muffin, popping them out of the tray and setting each on the cooling rack. There's a smeer of batter just below your left eye, and before Michael knows it, he's dragging his tongue across the side of your face.

You grimace at the sensation, nearly gagging before letting out a shriek.

"You sick freak!" You grunt, rubbing your cheek along the cable knit fabric over your shoulder to rid your skin of the sensation of Michael's wet... Long... Superiorly skilled tongue.

Before Michael can respond, Rip toddles into the kitchen, bookbag slung over his shoulder before dropping it at his feet, a toothy grin at the sight of Michael who immediately scoops the 7 year old into his arms.

"Hey buddy," Michael grins, "How was school?"

"I won the Spelling Bee!" Rip brags, zipping open his heavy and thick parka jacket, before boastfully showing his father pinback button on the front of his hoodie, a bee with spectacles being the character on it.

You brush past the two, pressing a sweet kiss against Rip's temple before grabbing the cookie dough, the bowl clasped in your hands and you listen to the way Michael boasts and brags about his... Hero thing.

If there's one thing that makes you so bitter, it's that you can never shit on the way he parents.

He's a good hero, and a better dad, which... If you think about it, balances out the 'shitty husband' part. Well... A lot of things balance it out when you look at it from the fact that Michael could dick you to the core of the Earth.

The mere thought has your grip on the spoon tightening, and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to fix your expression but those ocean blue eyes are already locked on your pensive expression, and Michael's gently ushering Rip towards the staircase.

"Go do your homework, buddy. And turn the TV up, mommy and me need to talk." Michael hums quietly, and Rip nods his head, leaving Michael alone with you in the kitchen.

Slow steps bring Michael towards you, his hands resting on the counter on either side of you, and a warm breath brushes against your ear as Michael dips his head lower.

"Weirdo." Michael teases. "Getting all hot 'n bothered 'cause I'm a good dad."

You grimace, a snarky remark on the tip of your tongue but then you smell that cologne. He smells like cinnamon and wood chips, an expensive and heady scent that you just know is bougie enough to give you a headache if you're around it too much.

And your words stutter in your throat, dying down their and converting itself into the crimson heat that overtakes the back of your neck as his hands slowly creep under your sweater, warm palms pressing against your even hotter flesh and Michael lets out a shuddering breath.

"You smell so good, miss."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Michael lets out shuddering breath, his nose nudging at your clit as his tongue drags long, sloppy stripes along your messy slit, slick threatening to dribble down your thighs but never getting the chance, with Michael's eager tongue.

"Mhm... Missed you." He breathes out, swallowing as he looks up at you through blonde lashes, his eyes already hazy as his broad, muscular fingers grip the backs of your thighs. He kneads the fat of your flesh, memorizing the feel of your plumpness in his palms out of fear that you won't let him near you ever again.

Michael's lips (more moisturized than yours) wrap around around your clit, and he sucks on the needy little bud, watching as your hand moves to cover your mouth, eager to not make any sounds for fear of traumatizing your child. And Michael lets out a low groan, the rumbling vibrations making your legs turn into jelly and if it weren't for his hands anchoring you, you'd have melted into a puddle by now.

"Michael..." You breathe out, your fingers moving to card through his golden tresses and you watch the way his eyes nearly roll back in his head at the feel of your manicured nails raking against his scalp and you feel his fingertips dig into your flesh.

"Fuck, you taste so good." Michael praises quietly, his hand moving to your inner thigh and raising your leg, propping one of your sock covered feet onto the counter, and your hip cracks at the strain.

A loud sound in the quiet kitchen, filled with the soft 'tic tic tic' of the oven, and bated breaths shared between the two of you.

And a boyish laugh tumbles from Michael's lips before he can even stop it, pulling away to peer up at you.

"Nobody's working you out, huh?"

Michael teases, before dipping two of his digits into his mouth, and you watch as cobwebs of saliva decorate his muscular digits before he slowly drags them down your already sloppy cunt and Michael watches you shiver.

Before slowly sliding those fingers into you, long, thick digits stretching your hole and your nails dig into the chub of your cheeks, as your other hand tightens it's grip on his hair. Tufts of blonde strands poke haphazardly through your fingers, and Michael groans at the sensation.

"That's it, baby, pull my hair." Michael croons, lowering his head back down and his tongue drags over your clit, and he watches as your eyes roll back.

His fingers curl, knuckles pressing at your plump and sopping pussy lips, and you feel the rough pads of his fingers press against that gooey spot that makes drool threaten to dribble down your chin, and you wipe away the sliver of slobber, eyes locked on Michael.

He looks in his element.

Nose brushing against your mound, tongue circling and flicking against your oversensitive clit and two fingers, pumping into you, chilly golden rings kissing your lips with each thrust. His hair's messy but you keep carding your fingers through the strands, just to hear that low groan that seems to rumble in his broad chest and you watch as his brilliant blue eyes flutter open to meet your gaze just as your orgasm crashes over you.

And it's like the world fucking stops.

The furrow of his dark blonde brows relaxes, and he pulls his head away, your slick trickling down his two digits and wetting the sleeve of his powder blue Henley, and before either of you can either...

Michael's standing between your thighs, one hand keeping your thigh lifted and anchoring your foot onto the counter, while the other slowly thrusts his fingers into your pouty mouth, soft lips wrapped around his digits, tasting yourself on his skin.

Just as he whispers quietly.

"Be a good girl and put it in."

Michael's instruction makes your stomach dip inward, arousal peaking and you swallow, nodding your head and your shaky hands fumble with the drawstring of his sweatpants.

"Just the tip." He adds quietly, brows knitting into a little adorable frown as your hand messily and uncoordinatedly strokes him, thumb tracing over his slit, and he swallows heavily, breaths deep and unsteady.

When you notch Michael at your entrance and slowly ease his flushed tip into your goopy and slick channel, he leans forward, his forehead resting in the curve of your shoulder as he whines quietly.

"You're so tight."

He shudders, pearly white teeth digging into the skin as he slowly bites down, eager to keep quiet because he knows that he's the loud one.

Hands move to bracket your hips, keeping you in place as he slowly fucks into you, savouring the feeling of your walls gripping his tip. And only his tip.

It's nowhere near enough, but the stretch is almost stupid.

It's unfair that Michael's got everything. Smarts, looks, body, dick. Not so much common sense but he makes up for it with his stupidly big heart.

You watch as that pink tip keeps disappearing behind your folds, and reappearing, slow strokes and you let out shaky breaths, hands moving to rest on either side of his neck, raising his gaze to yours.

Staring down at you with those sky blue eyes, lashes fluttering and your thumbs brush along his strong jaw, feeling the soft skin beneath your fingertips and Michael sighs, leaning into your touch.

"I lied." He murmurs softly. "You look like... 23, tops."

And Michael lets out a sigh before shaking his head, Prince Charming-esque bangs falling over his forehead.

"I need to pull out." Michael mutters.

"Why?" You question, brows knitting in confusion but you merely shiver as Michael pulls out of you, his cock still hard and pulsing as he tucks himself into the waistband of his boxers.

"Rip has math homework." Michael explains quietly, eyes lowered as he hooks his finger around the gusset of your panties, before covering up your cunt once again. Giving it a gentle and sweet pat.

"And he's... Half you so...." He hums. "You know how that'll go."

[sharenadraculea]

Fem!Primarch Au Ideas

Lion El‘Jonson: Is sligthly better at social stuff. Which might just be that it‘s more socially more acceptable on Caliban for a unmarried woman to refuse to speak to men. Officially spends most of her time telling Luther what to say and letting him do the social things. Unofficially has a crossdressing knight-persona to go out and do stuff. It took E like three days to figure out that that knight and Lion are in fact the same person. Might keep the knight-persona even after beeing found. Also she had a habit of sending all suitors on impossible quests in Caliban‘s forests where they would painfully die.

Fulgrim: Chemos has little to no genders. Either you can work or you are dead, what‘s in your pants doesn‘t really matter. Anyways, then Fulgrim get‘s discovered, introduced to the concept of gender and is now very anxious about performing gender expectations correctly. It isn‘t working very well. Guess who might not actually be a woman

Perturabo: Kind of got attic-daugthered by Dammekos, because of course all of that were his ideas, not the ones of a little girl. Perty is not amused by this. She later is in possesion of at least half the warcrime‘s squad braincells (the warcrime squad is a found family thing Angron, Sang, Perty and Konrad have going on), provides all the artillery support for them and is the main Konrad-handler (after Fulgrim of course). I haven‘t yet decided how much they are kissing.

Jaghatai Khan: Something, something crossdressing. Might kiss Morty. That‘s all my notes so far.

Leman Russ: I‘m really not yet sure what to do with Leman, because I could just do some purely cosmetic changes and it would be fine enough. But also I could do some really drastic changes… for example if I remember correctly in viking culture (which is what I‘m going off for Leman) magic was seen as a womens thing so you know ice-witch Leman would be fun

Konrad Curze: Still wondering if gender is something you can eat. Mostly cosmetic changes, but they are a bit more mentally stable due to the support of the warcrime-squad. I‘m considering giving Konrad a decently bad case of has-the-voice-of-a-little-kid, because that would be pretty creepy.

Sanguinius: I‘m going with the „Sanguinus was a slave as a child“-headcanon I‘ve seen in multiple fics and really like. So Sang had some pretty dark stuff happen to her and overall ends up beeing much less nice and more angry, the vibe is „Vampire warlord collecting the heads of her enemies“ and I love it a lot.

Angron: Is still Angron, no big changes here except she and Sang are kind of a couple

Roboute Guilliman: Had to spend a significant of time arguing over beeing allowed into politics directly (instead of doing the proper thing of marrying some old guy, puppeting him from behind the scenes and cashing in on the inheritence). Also Konor is still alive in this au, since Rob happend to be in the senate that day and carrying a hidden sword for entierly non nefarious reasons.

Mortarion: So Calas Typhon‘s mother was drowned for having a child with a overlord (presumably not voluntarely). If people start to suspect something similar happend to Morty, it‘s gonna be very good that Primarchs are very hard to kill. Especially if people don‘t take „there never was a child“ for a answer for where the nonexistent kid is, and start spreading rumors that Morty killed or abandoned it.

And I don‘t yet really have much or anything at all for the rest, so Rogal Dorn, Ferrus Manus, Magnus, Horus, Lorgar, Vulkan, Corvus and Alpharius Omegon, but feel free to give me some ideas

[quetzalpapalotl]

One thing about Mtmte that may color how people read exRID (especially if one read the former before delving into the rest of the continuity) is that Mtmte treats Prowl doing nefarious machiavellian stuff as some sort of open secret. Some people assume that's also the case in Barber's works, but that's not actually how Barber portrays things.

The Autobots in early exRID know that Prowl can be ruthless and inflexible and there is some awareness that he is sketchy, but it's a point that they don't actually know how deep it goes. Like yeah, they didn't notice Prowl was being mind-controlled, but Bumblebee wonders if he's being blinded because Prowl is his friend, he says that despite Prowl's shortcomings nobody is a more loyal Autobot than him. When the mind-controll is revealed, Bee automatically assumes that surely Prowl did not went behind his back to assasinate the political competition without a trial, until he's told that no, Prowl did do that.

Similarly, during Combiner Wars, Optimus insists that despite him and Prowl not always seeing eye-to-eye they're friends and vouchs for his moral character. Until Prowl decides to condemn an entire planet to death by starvation to supposedly stop a worst-case scenario that Prowl catastrophized because he can't accept that war can end on any terms but his. And then Prowl forces Optimus' and co into his head and Optimus finally sees how utilitarian Prowl's wordlview is. And even then he tries to make sense of it, tries to make Prowl take it back, but Prow refuses to admit anything he did was morally wrong. And then Optimus has to finally accept that this is who Prowl is, who he has always been and that maybe Optimus always knew this but pretended that he didn't because he needed Prowl. And then, as Optimus often does when faced with a reality he cannot accept, he punches him. (this isn't how Prowl lost his eye btw, he had already lost it by this point)

(Prowl's portrayal in Sins also differs from Mtmte, it's a point in it that depite Prowl having his fingers in everything, he never dirties his own hands and makes sure nothing can be traced back to him)

[bragganhyl]

okay apparently only Ursa and Corvus can call their friends but no matter that is still 3 birbs + Quothe and 2 bears in addition to two spiders, a wolf, a rat, a boar, a frog, a crab and a cat

Berci's animal pals now also can summon animal pals and just... i'm so happy for him 😭

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: Golden Hour

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: The sun sets on Bucky’s last week of the deal to work on your farm

Word count: 2,138

Content/warnings: kissing, cuddling, shaky voices aka holding back crying and emotions, avoiding a sensitive topic, drinking, pet name usage

Author’s Note: Although this chapter is kinda sad, I think it’s sweet to see how much they care for each other. You can really tell neither is looking forward to the separation but they’re both too stubborn to say something about it.

This is a shorter chapter, too, but I hope you enjoy! I’d love to hear your feedback!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky stayed on the phone with Andy for the better part of an hour to make sure he had all of the information. According to Barber, since the cow was given to you ‘in good faith,’ legally, you could keep it without being considered as in debt to Cole. That was a relief, and throughout the weekend, Bucky was being…well, Bucky. His normal controlling self, or at least as much as he could be while still under your roof.

All you wanted to do was enjoy your midday snack on Sunday afternoon before heading back out to do some minor maintenance work when he gave you an update.

“I’ve already gotten Jensen to set up an appointment with a vet who can scan it for chips or any nefarious devices to make sure we’re not being tracked or listened to.”

You stoped midway through biting your granola bar, gesturing with it out to the side of your house where the cow had been staying in surprise.

“Jensen? My ex, Jensen? You’re really working together? I thought you hated him. Fixing the cave wasn’t a one-and-done?”

Bucky shrugged as he looked through your cabinets for something to satisfy his cravings, already half-tired from starting to repair a shed with you and finding schematics for a porch swing. “Well, I technically do hate him, and it’s more like he’s working for me than us working together, but I saw how he’d give up anything to help you, and someone with that quality is worth keeping around.”

He finally settled on a cheese stick and a couple crackers before turning to face you. “Plus, the fact that somehow you don’t hate him helps a little, but I’m still gonna keep him in check.”

You smiled and nodded, throwing away your wrapper and going for another sip out of your water bottle. “Hm, I see. I hope that new training you sent him through will prove useful for the future. Seal his loose lips right up.”

Bucky stopped mid-chew, afraid to look at the knowing smirk on your face. You really were too perceptive for his own good. “Um, yeah. Be a shame to waste it on someone we don’t plan on using. Now hurry up and finish that water bottle. Gotta make sure you’ve got enough energy to finish the repairs on that shed this afternoon so your little cow has a place to lay her head outside. Plus, Curtis is coming over later to help me with a surprise and I’ve gotta make sure I’m ready for him.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about my energy, cowboy. Hope you can keep up.” And with a wink, you polished off your water and walked toward the door to slip on your boots and get back to work.

After a mostly restful weekend, you woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Monday morning, the last of the month, the last of- no. You didn’t want to think about that. Instead, you took this early hour as a chance to be productive before you had to get Bucky up. A chance to fill your mind with anything but that thought. You figured you’d get a jump on gathering the eggs. You had time to make a breakfast casserole, that could be good. And then do the crossword from yesterday you hadn’t touched? And maybe read? Really, anything to keep occupied before you had to face the music.

Before you knew it, the oven beeped to signal the end of the casserole’s bake time. You pulled it out and slipped off your oven mitts, running on the cool wooden floors in your socked feet to the staircase and going up to Bucky’s room.

You lightly knocked on the door and cracked it open to see a lump tangled up in the old comforter. As you slowly crept forward over the creaky floor, you could just barely make out the rise and fall of his body. You hated to wake him as he looked so peaceful, but it was time for work, and sleeping in any longer would just postpone the inevitable and waste your valuable time together.

You took a seat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his shoulder gently. “Jamie, rise and shine. Time to get going.”

He groaned and rolled over, squinting at you through the one eye he could pry open.

“Hmmmm. Honey, didn’t I earn an extra five minutes? I’ve been so good and done all the shit you’ve asked of me lately.”

You let out a breathy laugh at his gruff morning voice as he reached out for you, throwing his arms around your hips and shuffling to place his head in your lap. You stroked his hair, basking in the early morning moment.

“Watch your tongue, but yes, you did, and I gave it to you fifteen minutes ago, so get up and ready for the day.”

Bucky grumbled lowly against your jean-clad thigh. “Fuck off, Steve.”

You remained silent until he turned his head up to look at yours at the lack of response. Bucky’s tired eyes were met by your firm warning glance, causing him to backtrack immediately.

“Um, sorry, I, uh… I meant of course, honey, excited to start my ….” His voice began to shake. You could’ve finished the sentence for him. You knew what he was going to say. His last week on the farm. But you didn’t. You didn’t finish his sentence because you didn’t want to hear it either. You simply patted his head and nodded, your eyes slightly more watery than before. You tried to play it off as a yawn before gently lifting him from your lap and standing again.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Your attempt at a snarky reply came out as a whisper, caught somewhere in your throat, where you attempted to clear it out before starting again. “Breakfast is already cooked, just cooling right now. I’ll go ahead and serve it up. I hope you’re dressed and ready, downstairs before it gets too cold.”

By the time Bucky had the chance to process your words and demeanor and nod, you had already turned around and headed back downstairs.

Besides the successful vet appointment, the rest of the days of the week were quite similar to the way Monday went, although Bucky kept getting up earlier, and pushing you to stay up later, not wanting to waste a single second with you.

The farm work went smoothly, much faster than you had recalled your first weeks with Bucky being, considering he couldn’t do a single thing without you by his side back then. The two of you still worked alongside each other, but now it made everything go twice as fast instead of creating roadblocks.

The fields were getting long enough to make hay bales, so you officially got to take Bucky up into the big green tractor and show him the way to properly weave and maneuver through the fields to cut it, turn it, and bale it. You didn’t miss the way he smirked when you told him the piece of equipment you’d be using for the job. That song, ‘Big Green Tractor,’ had played several times in the bar and it didn’t take too long for Bucky to catch on to the innuendo, but he didn’t do anything about it…yet.

For some of the other tasks, Peter came along, too, learning how everything worked. He caught on quickly, which was reassuring because you weren’t sure how things were going to be without Bucky by your side in the coming weeks. The increased speed on everything helped you to finish up earlier than usual, too, giving you most of the night for just relaxing with the two of them. Well, mainly Bucky, since Peter stayed out of the way when he could. You’d had enough time to hang out for a couple hours before dinner, then finish up the evening checks and milkings, and then go back to decompress before bed.

That gave plenty of time for you to go do something with Bucky, just the two of you outside of chores, outside of his scheduled phone calls, to just be. And then each night, after you changed into pajamas, Bucky crawled into your bed with you, his arms wrapped you in a tight embrace, holding lazy, yet deep conversation until the first one between the two of you fell asleep.

This new arrangement with no signs of Bucky returning to his old quarters allowed Peter move into the house. Sure, it may not have been that exact room in favor of one of the other guest rooms, but you insisted that now that the rest of the crew had finished up their work in the mines, there was no sense in him staying alone in the barndiminium. Especially if he was to be here for the foreseeable future.

Another night, another chance for you and Bucky to enjoy the sunset out in the rocking chairs, facing west. Except, Bucky wasn’t the biggest fan of any sort of seating with armrests that might block your closeness, so the two of you sat pressed up against each other on the front porch swing, the surprise for you that Curtis had come over to help Bucky build earlier in the week.

You weren’t all alone in these moments, though. Sure, all the people around you knew to stay away and give the two of you privacy in these times, but it was different for the farm animals. As you leaned back against Bucky’s chest, his arms around your waist and head tucked over your shoulder, satisfied yet worried thoughts filling your heads, the two of you would laugh as the sheep and cattle dogs would run up to you, accompanied by the mini highland cow that you’d decided to let Decks name the next time she visited.

The week had flown by already, full of nights like this, the two of you sitting in the glow of the golden hour that Bucky would surely miss in the city, sharing kisses and everything you could think of.

The air was just cool enough on Friday night when the sun went down to make a bonfire. Cherry had the night off for once, so Curtis had brought her over for a small picnic in one of the fields before joining the two of you by the fire.

You and Bucky had made an ice bucket of beer for the occasion, sipping lightly throughout the easy conversation, your back to his chest as his was against a log, the both of you sitting on an old quilt. Curtis and Cherry were doing the same as you got to know the girl who seemed to be stealing his heart.

“So Houston, huh? How do you feel about here?” Bucky gestured across the fire to her with his bottle.

“Yeah, kind of glad to be out of there, though. Have some time to take it slow away from the city, ya know? What about you? You’re not from around here either, right?”

You did your best to hide your wince at Cherry’s response. Sure, she was just being nice and holding genuine conversation. You couldn’t blame her for not knowing the way you and Bucky were trying to ignore any topics that even came close to his departure or what he was doing here in the first place.

Bucky was much better at hiding his true emotions, though, a product of his livelihood. “Yeah, city life has been good to me. Doesn’t mean I don’t love it out here just as much, though. I think I’ve gained a whole new perspective on this place and the people just from a month.” He gave a small smile with his response which Cherry returned with a nod before Bucky leaned forward to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“I feel that. I kind of already feel at home. But you’re not sticking around, right? Curtis told me this was one of your last nights in town.”

There it was. She said it out loud, creating a pang of pain in both your and Bucky’s chests. He cleared his throat, throwing a quick glance at his stoic pal across the fire, and Curtis seemed completely unbothered. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of how much you and Bucky cared for each other. And maybe he was right for that. As soon as Bucky left, he had to go back to his normal, busy schedule that poor Steve had been maintaining this whole time, and then some. Bucky wouldn’t have space in his schedule to come back here or worry about you for anything but business, right?

You let out a shaky breath as Bucky rubbed his hand along your side, responding just barely loud enough to overtake the crackling fire. “Yeah.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: when things heat up to be pulled apart…I’m sure there a scientific term for that (entropy?)

Series Taglist: @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22 @mrsnikstan

[puppycheesecake]

Britney can do anything--including evade death & harness its powers for her own nefarious purposes! ⚰️ Behold, the lich queen bee!

[velvetvexations]

transemasculation: for when you think freud was right about penis envy but ONLY for dirty little trannies (but seriously what the fuck is with this term? who thought this was a good ide- oh, right, ASSHOLES!)

it's really funny because I would make jokes about how TRFs don't want transmascs to make their own language without sending it in for approval to the Transfem Council and now the famous self-identified transradfem is like "here you stupid little boys I made you a word to use if you want one so bad."

That transemasculation shit is the most obvious set up to just keep making fun tmascs because people generally think emasculation is a funny and harmless nonissue maybe even #feminism. Like whats the bet if we did start using it how they want us to people would just immediately start connecting it to our “toxic transmasculinity” to dismiss it / continue to paint us as whiny MRAs anyway ?

it's so fucking belittling

One of the most frustrating parts of when a trans fem posts transandrophobic stuff openly for the first time is how any disagreement harsher than silence gets taken as "men abusing women" and held up as proof that she was right to be wary of trans mascs all along, because look how quickly we will turn on a trans fem and attack her—any negative feelings she has over the incident are just more evidence that she is a victim under siege and right to feel this way.

the wounded gazelle gambit is very popular

The thing that bugs me about transmasc on this site who called themselves TME is that I never see them doing any actual activism for trans women, they specifically just talk down on other transmasc users. Like it comes off so fake-

that's Feminist in Bio men for you

Kinda crushed to see bee/movie/erotica post that? Like??? Yeah white trans people can hold power over me but what the fuck do you think you're doing calling my maness the same as whiteness. my maness cant be the same as whiteness because I am not fucking white. hellworld.

I'm very sorry they let you down, anon. <3

You can tell TRFs are terfs because they do the same thing that terfs do where they point to people who call them baeddels and say that their critics are calling them slurs, and then a few days later will self-identify as baeddels again

they complained so much that I very generously got people to almost entirely saying TRF instead and immediately they just go "TRF is a slur to silence me :("

"the nefarious genderqueers think they're so much more radical and valid than us while the whole queer community actually caters to them, we need more representation for Real Binary Transsexuals" is a recurring theme in Whipping Girl so no wonder it's a common refrain for the "read a singular book" crowd

they do as they are taught

i really like your sense of humour btw

Thank you!

anyways all this patricia taxxon stuff is kinda just making me more motivated to make autistic transmasc therian video essays.

as you should honestly

because i love answering questions not aimed at me, re: is cheating abuse no, but it's a dick move that can be a part of abuse. abuse in a relationship is, for the most part, long term and actively emotionally/physically harmful to at least one person. cheating can be a part of abuse (for example, the fact the abuser cheated in the past, can be held over the abusees (? idk if that's the right term) head.) but alone it isn't. i hooe this made sense. i woke up two minutes ago and have thoughts! i would love to hear yours, because peoples opinions differ a lot in subjects like this

I think I agree with that.

Tall fat hairy women <3

<3

WOOFWOOF... HELLO BEAUTIFUL

;)

I’ve seen a few of your anons discussing the proposal of ‘transemasculation’ to replace ‘transandrophobia’ but I’m not sure that anyone has shared this info yet: https://www.tumblr.com/weepingfireflies/770239720162738176/im-not-even-transmasc-or-transfem-but-the essentially, ‘transemasculation’ was coined years ago by a transmasc user alongside other terms for related and adjacent discrimination/bigotry/etc.; the user who is trying to speak over transmascs about our our terminology and experiences apparently didn’t even bother to do a cursory check that what she posited was actually a new concept

I think it's been brought up but that is very funny, in a cosmic sort of way.

"trans men are men first!" gender essentialism is going to ruin us all like yes you're quite right if you're born a man no matter what your life experiences are, you are inherently more likely to be self-absorbed assholes who hate women. absolutely. the only thing terfs are wrong about it who counts as a man and who counts as a woman yep 100% i see no issues with this clearly our Man Brains make us evil

it's like yeah people who identify as men clearly have skull shapes that show an inclination towards misogyny

i rly appreciate seeing someone else who uses similar referential terms b/c i'm bigender and i honestly really like calling myself a male manwoman. it just feels right in a way nothing else does

I'm glad!

[merlinfromberlin]

It is once again that time of the month where I rewatch Out Of His Head to write angst about Megatron being stuck in Bee's head.

It's just... a very compelling episode to write angst about. Like, there is so many possibilities for what exactly Megatron could have been doing to Bee in order to control him. Did Megatron torture him? Did Megs overpower him based on willpower alone? Was Bee still in stasis and completely unaware until he woke on the Nemesis the first time? Did Megatron see any of Bumblebee's memories? Did he maybe trap Bee in one of them? Tyger Pax, maybe? Did Megatron conjure a happy fantasy for Bee to get lost in and stay complacent while Megs was doing his nefarious deeds?

Who knows. It's what makes the episode so incredibly compelling to me. Because it could be so many things.

The last one is what I'm currently playing with for angstober. But honestly, I love all of these possibilities and will probably keep coming back to this episode. ^^"

Fun fact: Out Of His Head is (among a great many other episodes) also on my re-watch list for another wip where I take a completely different approach to how Megatron managed to control Bumblebee.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, vaginal sex, and use of safe word (playful nature, not graphic).

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Fucking flowers.

If not for the reason of being gifted to you as a sign of unconditional love, what good are they for?

By the coming month of April, humid warmth had suffocated Hawkins, Indiana to no avail, compelling a moody metalhead to become a sweaty, moody metalhead; the universe’s disastrous attempt of combining homeostasis with leather and chains.

On the bright side, the muggy atmosphere had a beautiful tendency of trapping hot girls, like yourself, into obtaining skimpy outfits of tank tops and short shorts that were surely in no complaints to the wandering eyes of boyfriends, Eddie Munson alike.

Although, the blissfulness could only be something of a short-lived experience, when suddenly his eyes would water, vision too blurry by the fault of a fucking flower to see you prancing around in practically nothing. It was times like these he hated his eyes for being so big; wider diameter meaning bigger target- or whatever the hell made sense in his Eddie Munson Doctrine under the section of allergies.

And look, Eddie wasn’t one to necessarily care of bullshit schtick of traditional masculinity, but it sure as hell bruised his ego facing the reality that a speckle of yellow dust on a Marigold could wipe him out. That’s like having a peanut allergy, the fuck?!

The trailer was supposed to be his safe haven—where buzzing bees, blistering heat, growing plants, and an environment swallowed by nefarious pollen couldn’t get to him—but when the air conditioner hit its celebratory age of becoming geriatric, windows were forced open for the hopefully possibility that the night could bring a small zephyr cool enough to dry sweaty skin.

Especially when nightly activities brought on more sweat than usual…

“Oh- fuck!” Eddie knew it was simply uncomfortable perspiration, but the way your skin glowed like you were glazed with glimmers made his cock spur, particularly more when cheeks were exposed by cutoff denim, and tits were bouncy free without the support of a constricting bra.

Eddie Munson had prowled onto you like a predator catching its prey. “So fucking tight- mm, shit, baby!” Positioned onto your side, Eddie took the liberty of raising your thigh open, your foot playing its part to secure itself behind his leg to hold in place.

“H-Harder, please, Eds!” Not one to disobey, Eddie’s pelvis had slammed against your backside, letting the bush of curls tickle your ass as your grinded back in seek of release.

His movements were enough to drool out your arousal, letting his tightening balls of heavy cum become coated in your juices, as he drilled into your pussy. A snaked arm under your neck had led to his grabby hands squeezing down to your boob, your perked nipple rubbing against a callous on his palm that had your mewling with new sensations.

“Fuck, yes! Back that ass into me, sweetheart! Fucking do it- so fucking delicious!” Eddie was becoming delirious from the grip of your cunt, letting his mouth fall open with gasps of ecstasy, so vulnerable to the yellow devil that awaited him outside.

And it struck with an onslaught of no mercy, riding the warm breeze as a means to weak sinuses, ready to cock block a desperate metalhead, who four hours ago was wishing death to all pollen and pollen-things alike.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop, ugh, keep going!” Having your pussy pulsate with tightening clenches was enough to bring your boyfriend to brink of stuffing you full. But a tickle in his nose had suddenly snapped some coherency to the reality of his sensitive nasal cavity, and Eddie knew it was a losing game.

“Princess! Mm, oh my god, oh my-” Ever the gentleman, Eddie head quickly maneuvered his head away to save you from the sprays of snot. A guttural sneeze of ear-splitting volume had startled you in the midst of sex, constraining you to look back at your giggling boy toy.

Movements of thrusts surely halted, you laughed. “Bless you.” A groan of embarrassment, yet amusement, was all you were met with, as Eddie pulled out against both your wishes to lay back in defeat.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Stuffed to oblivion, his voice and chuckles had been tainted with mucus. You’d turn to face him, ready to soothe his aggravated nose bridge, but stubborn as ever, he refused. “No, don’t look at me, I’m all gross!” Eddie whined, shoving your face away with no real force.

You beamed. “No, it’s okay, let’s keep going.”

“Nuh-uh! Ozzy, I’m calling my safe word, can’t do nothing about it now. No, no!” He incoherently laughed, as though he got the last one. The notion of another man being your safe word was a conversation for another day.

“Eddie!”

“I ruined it, ugh, I ruined everything!” He dramatically wailed. “I sneezed, got the sniffles, now my ears are- fuck,” a big yawn ripped from him, “I’m yawning now, fuck! I’m humiliated.”

Refusing to accept his pity party, you turned his chin to meet his lips with a savoring kiss that had him groaning with want. “No-” *kiss* “No, baby-” *kiss* “I just sneezed-” *kiss* “I probably have snot all over-”

“You don’t.” You swallowed his lips, leaving him to whine.

“Okay, good.” He chuckled against you mouth. You hoisted your leg over his hips to straddle him, and line his cock to the clenching entrance of your pussy to finish what he started.

“Uh- fuck!”

Pollen: 23,738

Eddie: 1 *ding ding ding* (a very lucky one)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Inspired by this audio! Had to Eddie-fy it, of course. Sounded too much like an Eddie Munson situation, lol.

[honeymongering]

Following suit after @lord-emerson :D