#one day when I feel like making a new blog

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent. 

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend. 

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time. 

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked. 

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile. 

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet. 

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity. 

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost. 

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about. 

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there. 

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water. 

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes. 

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition. 

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’” 

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed. 

“That's ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.” 

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.” 

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way. 

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building. 

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf. 

Not at all. 

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice.  You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers. 

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well. 

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always. 

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes. 

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth. 

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock. 

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands. 

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt. 

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow. 

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes. 

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that. 

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam. 

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic. 

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room. 

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it. 

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people. 

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd. 

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

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[lilgarbitch]

The Voice of an Angel- Matt Dierkes

Part One

Pairing: Matt Dierkes x PornBlog!Reader

Cw: Smut, Masterbation (f and m), sappy freak!Matt

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Doing something a little different. The story seemed to work best if I wrote time in phases, so I hope it doesn’t ruin it😬 And I couldn’t tell you where this idea came from. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone write something like this, but I did the best I could❤️ I hope you enjoy

Tags: @xmads-omensx @dontwantthemoney @theanarchymuse95 @badomensgoodomens

Y/N | Wednesday 2:36 PM

Kicking off the floor and rolling my chair over to my computer, I plug my phone into the cord and begin transferring the audio file. I should really get a microphone for this, but I’m still somewhat new to this… Yeah, I definitely need to start doing research on vamping up my equipment.

I plug my headphones into the laptop once the file was finished so I could listen back over the audio, making sure it’s suitable to be posted. I live alone, and literally just made all of these noises out loud, but I still get a little weirded out playing it without headphones and need to be able to listen to every detail, making sure there were no weird noises in the background.

Clicking on the file, my voice starts playing through. It took some time for me to get used to hearing me say certain things and make these noises, hell, it took me a good while to even hit ‘record’ when doing this, but once I got enough praise from people online, it just became routine. 

My slightly over exaggerated moans and whimpers fill my ears, and I can’t lie, I was pleased with the quality. IPhones have good microphones. It sometimes even picked up the sound of my vibrator or how wet I was based on how close I had the mic to me, and my followers always enjoy that.

After spending about twenty minutes editing out small distracting background noises, I opened Twitter and connected the file to a post, captioning it, "You know exactly how to pull these pretty sounds from me,” before hitting post and then proceeding to do the same for my tumblr blog. 

Almost instantly, my phone starts going crazy from those who have my post notifications on, and I read every comment with a smile on my face.

It may seem weird to many people, but I truly enjoy doing this. I get to turn a common activity into a side hustle, and it pleases both guys and girls when they find my pages. And most of them are the sweetest when they reply. They’re usually all horny replies, but unless I post something that instigates them to degrade me, they always choose to be super sweet.

I scroll through some replies and the likes from my followers, and even some who always come back but choose not to follow me because they don’t want others to know. It was nice seeing repeated faces. Like I created a space for them to feel safe to be open about something so lewd. 

That’s when I got a notification from my Cash App that’s linked to my accounts, causing a small smile to form on my face when reading the name. ThotxPleaser had been a loyal follower for a while now. He’s following my Twitter, Tumblr, subscribed to my Patreon, and here he is again, sending me a gift. 

ThotxPleaser- $250

Sounded beautiful as always, Angel❤️ 

I really wished that his gift had caused a bigger smile, but I knew this anonymous person’s actions too well by now. He usually gave me a sweet nickname, but today he just used my pseudonym, Angel, and it wouldn’t be worrying, if he also didn’t send the donation right after I posted, again. He always tried to send appreciation ‘when he had the chance,’ even commenting that he was too busy sometimes and felt bad for seeing my posts so late, so it was abnormal that he was so on top of it for the third post in a row, almost as if he was waiting for my posts as a pick-me-up. I know that was cocky thinking, but he’s said before that my posts have made his day, giving me a grateful gift to prove it, so it wasn’t that far off of an assumption. I just hope he’s doing okay.

Matt | Wednesday 2:59 PM

I crash into my bed with a groan. We’re getting everything situated for tour next week and I’ve been working my ass off doing almost all the work. The boys and our team do the best that they can, but I’m the one they run to when problems surface, and with the dates coming faster and faster, everyone is running rampant with anxiety and constantly on my ass needing help with the most obvious things. I know we’re all stressed but every part of my job other than actually getting them on that tour bus is done. 

I told them all to give me at least the rest of the day off to unwind. Any problems that come to head today can easily be fixed tomorrow. I warned them that I was switching my phone to Do Not Disturb so even if they tried to contact me, I won’t answer.

It was a lie, though. I would never actually do that to them and hopefully they know that. I just need them to understand and leave me be for at least a few hours before I burn out. And, of course, almost right as I thought that, my phone went off. 

With a loud groan, I turned my phone over and glared at it, trying to read what the hell the problem was now, but then my heart skipped as I read the notification. 

Angel💋 

You know exactly how to pull these pretty sounds from me

My breath hitched as I read it and I instantly felt blood rush to my other head. This had to mean that she finally posted a new audio clip. I instantly clicked on it, desperately needing to hear her to put me in a better mood. My fingers eagerly tap at the back of my phone as it takes a minute to load up Twitter, but when it finally does, I see the audio file and click ‘play’. 

I shove my face into my pillow and place my phone next to my head as I let her voice and moans fill my ears. As the audio plays, I can feel myself getting harder. But I am too fucking tired to do anything about that right now. I truly just needed to hear her sweet voice in a time like this. I could listen to her for hours. It doesn’t matter if it’s her talking dirty or making these sweet noises. Hell, she could start a damn podcast and talk about the weather and it would still make my day. Something about her voice always brought me out of any rut that I’m in. 

The audio ends and I finally look back at my phone. I debated on playing it again, just to hear her, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to show her some gratitude and appreciation. 

I open up Cash App, using the account that wasn’t under my real name, and send her a simple note. I didn’t have enough energy to put too much thought into it, but she deserved something after boosting my mood. After I sent it, I closed my phone and shoved my face back into my pillow, this time with a small smile. Within minutes, I was out like a light, dreaming of what she could possibly look like, and having a chance to actually have her speak to me, just to be able to hear more of her voice. 

Y/N | Saturday 6:23 PM

It’s been a few days since the last donation from ThotxPleaser. I try to post a few suggestive posts a day if I’m in the mood, and every single one was instantly liked by him, but that was it. No flirty comments, just what seemed like he was already on his phone when I posted and a simple like. I know I shouldn’t worry about a random follower, but he has always been so sweet and supportive. Plus, as creepy as it may seem, I end up paying close attention to my supporters, and it was obvious that he was acting different than usual. 

I tried pushing the worry out of my mind the best I could, not needing to stress over a damn audio blog supporter, but I couldn’t help the fact that my mind wandered, thinking of what could possibly be happening in his life that he was too busy to show his usual appreciation, but still forcing him to be one of the first likes on every single post, audio or not. What could he possibly be dealing with that made him seem like he was so busy that he barely had time to do much, yet he still went out of his way to give me a hint of support? Fuck, I’m sounding insane. Am I overthinking this so much that I truly believe this man was using my moaning audios and lewd posts as his main form of serotonin? God, I need to fix my ego. He’s probably just losing interest and slowly weaning me off his attention…Okay, Y/N, he’s a fucking follower. He doesn’t care about ghosting you. You’ve never even spoken. Why are you so obsessed anyway?

I let out a groan, getting annoyed with my own thoughts. I realized that I was staring at the ceiling, worrying about someone I don't even know, so I quickly sat up and grabbed my phone, hoping that doom scrolling could help distract me…and make me feel less embarrassed.

I open Instagram and my eyes instantly land on the story bar. I scroll through the orange and green circles, hoping to find someone interesting, when I finally do. Matt Dierkes had a new story. I click on it and instantly giggle, seeing that, of course, it was another raccoon meme. Since this was my personal account, I liked his story and went on with doom scrolling.

After seeing only reposted memes and people living their best life, I realized this wasn’t going to give me the entertainment I needed. I close the app and look at my others, before opening Tumblr. Matt was still on my mind. I always found him so cute. I’ve enjoyed Bad Omens’ music for a while now, and definitely found the boys attractive, but something about their tour manager had always caught my eye. He said whatever he wanted and enjoyed things without judgment. I really liked how unique and undeniably him he let himself be.

I try to scroll through my feed, but with him still in my mind, my fingers trailed over to the search bar and I found myself looking up another fanfiction about him. 

After a few…okay maybe a little too many one shots and short stories since I was free tonight, I landed a quite…spicy story, leading me to decide this was the perfect time to create more content. 

With the story playing in my mind like a movie, I set my phone up and hit record. I was too lazy to grab a toy, and was definitely worked up enough that I could easily get this done manual style. Lying back, I slipped my hand down my pants with his face flashing behind my eyes. In the story, he had a little more dominant energy, so I began imagining him taking what he wanted.

My breath picked up as I felt his hands sliding up my thighs, using enough pressure to keep them held to the sides. He had this almost hungry look on his face as I stared down at him. His fingers finally reached the hem of my panties before powerfully yet gracefully sliding them down, like he was teasing me, making me wait. 

I could feel his warm calloused fingers grazing over the softness of my thighs as they trailed towards my core. I began to squirm in anticipation, desperately wanting to grab them and bring them where I needed him most, but I knew if I did, he’d find a way to punish me. 

Finally his hand reached the apex of my thighs and I gasped as he grazed his fingers through my folds. 

I’m getting too desperate, I have to get this little fantasy sped up. I start circling my clit and letting out a soft whine. 

His tongue passes through my slit before finally focusing on the bundle of nerves. My breath picks up as he perfectly laps at it, occasionally circling it with his tongue. As he adds more pressure, I can feel myself getting closer. I look down and see his face between my thighs, causing a small gasp to escape my lips. Once our eyes meet, I let out a breathy moan as my head falls back against the pillow. I can’t control the noises leaving me, the sound of his tongue lapping at my wet core and the image burned into my mind of him staring up at me causing the pleasure to intensify.

As I reached my peak, my mind overwhelmed with ecstasy, I forgot where I was. 

“Ma-“ I let out, before quickly gasping and covering my mouth, hoping I could play that off as a gasp of pleasure and not shock at me almost ruining my audio by saying his name. After catching my breath, I stop the recording and sit there. 

Fuck.

Matt | Saturday 9:47 PM

The guys and I were hanging out at Noah and Jesse’s house, telling ourselves that we needed a night off to relax and leave the stress behind for a few hours. Everyone’s mostly packed and we have at least tonight to just forget about everything, so they were all a few beers and shots in and it was getting kind of rowdy. I made sure to keep my eye on everyone to make sure they didn’t do something stupid. 

I was sitting on the couch as the rest of them either destroyed the kitchen, trying to drunkenly make snacks, or hung out in the backyard, just chatting or getting excited over revisiting places on the tour they enjoyed. I was silently watching them all, using this time to try and force some relaxation into my mind, knowing we agreed that we could take a break from work. I know I could have done this at home, but doing anything with these boys was better than doing it alone, since I could always end up hunched over in laughter at any moment.

I stare off, listening to them loudly argue over which cheese to put in a grilled cheese, and just let my mind wander over how life has been going lately. Thinking about what still needs to be done and what fun things I could try to do before I was slaving away for 3 months on tour, since even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t push the thought of work away. But then I was pulled out of my thoughts by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw that Angel had posted a new audio. God, this is exactly what I needed right now. A small smile formed on my lips, but I quickly went back to a straight face, not wanting anyone to see and question who made me smile or find out that it was a goddamn porn blog. 

I glanced around the room, making sure that everyone’s attention was occupied, before sneaking my way off to the bathroom. I close and lock the door behind me and pull out my Airpods. I know the house was loud, but the thought of them hearing her voice coming from the bathroom was not something I wanted to deal with. 

I put an Airpod in and click on the notification. Once it loaded, I pressed play on the audio. It was a short one, but it was definitely enough to put me in a better mood. Instantly, her sweet sounds filled my ear. Soft airy moans played through my Airpod and I could feel myself growing in my pants. I debated whether it was weirder to jerk off in their bathroom or to leave the bathroom with a hard on, and decided on the latter. 

As her voice played through my headphones like a beautiful melody, I reached my hands down and pulled the waistbands of my shorts and boxers down, letting my growing cock spring free. I turned my hat around, pushing my hair back to keep it out of my face as I leaned my hips against the sink and gripping the edge with one hand. I wrapped my other hand around the base and firmly gripped it. 

She let out soft whimpers with an occasional ‘Fuck’ and I leaned down and let a trail of spit reach my tip, biting back a groan as I collected it and used it to slicken my movements. It was just the perfect amount of lubrication to move at the pace I needed without making any noise. 

I brought my shirt to my teeth and closed my eyes, biting down as I fought back the noises collecting in my throat. I was close to biting through my lip and I didn’t need to get a noticeable mess on my nice tee. Explaining the teeth marks in the fabric would be easy, if their drunken asses even noticed. Her breath picked up, a telltale sign she was close, and that itself caused a tightening in my stomach. I listened to her moans getting higher and higher, subconsciously pumping myself to the beats of her breath. But then, she let out a moan I had never heard before. They were usually whiney and breathless, but this time she used her full chest voice, moaning out a ‘Maa-‘ before gasping and finally letting out her usual whiney sinful moan as she came. 

Something in my brain took that personal. It sounded too close to her moaning my name for me to prepare for the instant rush of pleasure taking over my body. I quickly cupped a hand over my tip as my eyes rolled back, my mind replaying that single sinful syllable over and over as I spilled into my fist. 

I probably bit a hole in my shirt with how hard my teeth clenched as I forced the deep loud moan from coming out. But I didn’t care. I had to hold my weight up with the sink behind me and force myself to catch my breath through my nose as the pleasure in my stomach lasted longer than it ever has before. 

After a few moments, the feeling of my cum threatening to drip from my hand caused me to finally open my eyes and drop my shirt from my teeth as I spun around and turned on the sink. I quickly washed all the evidence down the sink and tucked myself back into my pants before looking up.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, grimacing in post-nut clarity as it hit me how gross what I just did was. Not me jerking off to her, that was normal, but the fact that I had gotten so obsessed that I couldn’t wait until I got home to listen and react. 

I hung my head as I thought about how the fuck I was supposed to get through tour if I couldn’t stop myself from listening to her audios, but also definitely wouldn’t have a way to hide my reaction from them. I just wish I could hear her in any way other than something so erotic. That could hold me over. As long as I didn’t pavlov myself into getting hard just at the sound of her. 

I reach up and fix my cap before grabbing my phone and sending her a like and a comment. 

ThotxPleaser- Could never find a better way to make my day, beautiful. 

I softly laughed at myself as I sent it. I knew I was a freak. She probably thought I was a creep the way it looks like I stalk her with how fast I respond to her posts. But I couldn’t care less. She brought me a happiness I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t the context of her posts. It was her. And I had to show my appreciation, even if I just looked like one of many horndogs in her comments and donations. 

Wait…That was it. 

I fumble with my phone to open up Cashapp, before realizing how long I’ve been in the bathroom. I make my way back to the living room as I think of the perfect way to ask. Sitting down, I debate on the most convincing price to get her to even think of helping me out here. Tour starts Tuesday and with us all together, missing a chunk of change won’t be a problem. I go back and forth in my thoughts for a few minutes, writing and rewriting my message until I think it’s perfect. Finally, I send it and cross my fingers. 

ThotxPleaser- $1,000

All I want is to hear your voice more. Talk about your day, how the weather is treating you, or rant about a TV show you’re watching. I’d listen to you forever. All I ask is if you’d be willing to send me voice memos here and there to get me through my days. Name your price, sunshine. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[copilot-crashout]

hii!! >w< may i request anti-tulpar au mouthwashing characters x gender neutral reader hcs? (both sfw and/or nsfw hcs? honestly i don’t mind if you leave out the nsfw part, sfw hcs are just fine! ^^) i haven’t seen a lot of anti-tulpar content and i love the au smmmm! your work is also so good omgg >w<

Pairing: Anti!Tulpar crew x gn!reader

Content Warning: There are NSFW HCs here! It's my first time writing anything NSFW. Please keep that in mind!! ( -᷄ _ -᷅ ; ) Also, there are mentions of stalking Jimmy + blood kink for him. Misogynistic ideology on Curly's part.

[A/N]: I love anti!Tulpar so much... They're so interesting to me!! ˶ ˊ ᵕ ˋ ˶ Since both of these asks were similar, I decided to combine them... If @livvizible wants Anti!Curly separately, please ask me again!! ᕦ(˵•̀ᴥ•́˵)ᕤ

In other news, if people want to talk to me more personally, I'd be happy to make another blog/give my other socials. Just let me know~!

[SFW] CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He runs a tight ship, nothing gets past his eyes. Whatever orders he barks out, he expects to be followed. His ship is one set by law and order, and yet you seem to be the only exception. You're the only one he could consider his equal, after all.

-> This guy thrives off PDA. He'd be happy to make out with you in front of the rest of the crew, so long as they know who you belong to. He always keeps a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him when he's focused on his work and when he wants to distract you. His pride still hits you, but rather than being worked like a dog, he drags you out of it, only to chuckle at how easy it was to distract you.

-> Speaking of work, he'd be happy to let you into the cockpit, so long as you finished your assigned tasks for the day. While he wouldn't normally be one for too much affection while piloting the ship, he'd be happy to let you sit in his lap while he worked. He rests his head on your shoulder as he stares at the screen before him, keeping an eye on where they are heading.

-> Please make sure he doesn't work himself to the bone. If you bring him some snacks or a drink and keep him company, he'll thrive off it more than he can say. He still yearns for aspects of domestic life, the peacefulness foreign to him, but a welcome unknown, nonetheless.

-> Loves to give gifts. This man has expensive taste, and he's sure to show that to you with the gifts he gets you. You're a reflection of him. If he wants to maintain his image, you need to be in top shape, too. That's the excuse he gives, at least, when instead of a brand new set of clothes, he settles for giving you a massage, his tough hands working the knots in your back, eyes drilling into you with a focused glare.

[NSFW] CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He's a certified freak. You've probably had sex in most of the rooms. His dick throbs at the idea of someone catching you two while you fuck, as if it's the equivalent of marking you as his. Though most rounds are usually quickies, he doesn't have time for long, drawn-out nights. That, and it makes him feel too vulnerable to have soft, vanilla sex.

-> The Captain is known to smoke cigars. He's more than happy to extinguish them on your body. During work hours, it's a press onto the back of your hand, the heat burning the skin to leave a mark that would heal within a few days. During sex, he grins as he watches your body flinch at the sudden heat pressed onto your back, leaving a mark only he can see.

-> He's not one to ever bottom. His belief in masculinity makes him near-inflexible in the bedroom. Giving up control in any sense of the word is too effeminate for him even worse when it's voluntary. He's a man; He shouldn't be the one whimpering or begging for mercy. Instead, he fucks you raw. His favourite position is doggy style (trust). He's pulling your hair; forcing you into a sloppy kiss as he fucks you senseless.

-> Mirror sex with him is so attractive. He wants you to see the power he lords over you, how dishevelled you look in front of your superior. He can't help but admire how captivating you are, back arched and whining for more, a steady thrum of power coursing through his veins. He knows he's the only one to make you feel that good, and he certainly won't stop.

[SFW] JANITOR JIMMY:

-> He's surprised you even wanted to date someone like him. Jimmy can only see himself as the dirt beneath your shoe. He barely deserves to be seen, especially by you, but he's ecstatic when you give him the time of day. Jimmy's better described as your loyal worshipper rather than a lover.

-> Jimmy finds himself too excited at the prospect of standing next to you. He's giddy, grinning like a schoolgirl for having the luxury of breathing the same air as you. His devotion to you is unwavering.

-> He faces relentless bullying from the other crew members becoming the designated doormat of the ship. He's embarrassed about it. Not because of his treatment. No, no. His fears are about how they reflect on you, his sweet darling. Is he unsightly to you? He isn't a strong man, he'd understand if you treated him the same too. He deserved it.

-> You're too good for the ship. You shouldn't be working a blue-collar, dead-end job like this. How about you leave it all to him. You won't even have to lift a single pretty finger. Just acknowledge him, and he'll be yours forever. He'd work himself to the bone so long as you smiled at him.

-> If you asked for anything, he would do his best to fulfil it! Need a drink? He could prepare coffee better than that simple vending machine. He knows your taste. Tired? He'll be your loyal assistant, trailing you more like a lost puppy as he asks you to bark orders at him!

-> Jimmy uses his role to his advantage. He's just the janitor, so he needs to be in your room to clean in, silly! He'll leave small gifts in places only you or he would ever see. A small necklace in your cupboard drawer, notes professing their adoration on your mirror. He wants you to know how much you mean to him! If you notice a pencil missing here or a glove missing there, he can only give you a small pout and a promise to look out for it while he's cleaning.

-> He's red-faced and stuttering whenever you make any contact with him, eyes focused on anything but you. Jimmy could just faint then and there when you kissed his cheek for the first time. He barely initiated any contact at the beginning of your relationship, still believing it couldn't be true. Jimmy was sure it was just a dare from Anya. Eventually, he warms up to it, happy to hold you for as long as you'd like, the caveat being it would be in private rather than anything the others could see.

-> He memorises your schedule. That's not creepy, is it? If you see him more often while working, he gives you a bright grin, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he lets you get on with your work, lest you want Captain Curly to yell you into tears. Your relationship is quiet but finds itself weaved into the mundanity of the ship. Its presence is a lingering feeling of warmth rather than any outstanding proclamation of true love.

[NSFW] JANITOR JIMMY:

-> Worship, worship, worship. It goes both ways, honestly. He leaves small kisses across your body, misty-eyed as he thanks you, thanks whatever God there is that you somehow find worth in him. Even if you were using him, it would be okay. You see him. If you praised him, he'd break into tears, soft sobs as your gentle hands trail over his scar-littered body (some from little cuts on the job, others from "accidents" he experienced in his life). He's never felt so happy. It's as close to heaven as he'll ever get to.

-> He's a sucker for any position where he can see your face. He needs reassurance from you to see you enjoying your time together. It's soft and romantic, something he didn't think he'd ever be able to experience.

-> He's not loud in bed by any means (at least when he tops). The most you hear are soft whines while he ruts into you hard or a breathy moan when he cums. If he bottoms, it's a whole different story. He feels totally ashamed, but it's mixed in with such pleasure that his whole self is thrown off. He lets out loud moans, trying to silence himself with his own hand. If you pull his hand away, he squeezes his eyes shut, afraid to see your reaction when he's begging for more.

-> You are his top priority. Anything you want, he'll give you. Nothing is off the table for him, so long as it's what you want. Feel free to get as freaky as you want with him, he'll allow it (and at some point finds himself enjoying it, too).

-> As soft as he is, I think Jimmy has a pretty strong sadistic streak. Definitely has a blood kink, honestly. There's something utterly depraved, hauntingly infatuating in giving him the power to wound yourself and him, pressing them together to stare as the blood spills over, intertwining the very essence of yourselves. Unsanitary and could probably cause infections? Yeah. Is it hot? Absolutely.

-> Following this train of thought, he has it in him to snap and go rough. Once in a blue moon, when tensions are too high and you've been ignoring him for a moment too long, he'll grab your wrist harshly and pull you into an abandoned room, whispering how much he hates it when you ignore him. He'll find ways for you to keep your eyes on him, even if it means a rough fuck where anyone can walk in.

[SFW] ACTUARY DAISUKE:

-> He's very cat-like. Whenever he's free from work, he'll go out of his way to find you, only to start complaining at how much of a task it was to find you. Yet, he still stays. Watching as you work, waiting until you're finished so all your attention can be devoted to him.

-> You're co-workers first, and lovers second. He worked hard to get his job here and would rather be caught dead than be seen as 'unprofessional.' Daisuke initiating any kind of affection is left strictly behind closed doors. The same doesn't have to apply to you.

-> If you surprise him with any kind of affection in public, he'll grumble, yet won't push you off. His excuse? You'd only get more clingy if he denies you attention now. Just don't mention how he relaxed at your touch, face softening a fraction by your company or else he'll push you off and storm off to the opposite side of the ship.

-> Another character for gifts. An actuary gets paid well, and he's got the things he needs. Might as well spend it on you. He'd never mention the way his heart skips when he sees your face light up at his surprise gift - no matter how expensive it was.

-> He's still one to play games, though! He knows all the cheat codes and he's a total completionist - a perfectionist in every sense of the word. Daisuke would be more than happy to let you play but would be even more ecstatic if you watched him play in the privacy of his room.

[NSFW] ACTUARY DAISUKE:

-> He bottoms, most if not all the time. He's just so stressed. He works so hard. What's a better way to unwind than spending time with his beloved?

-> He lets out breathy moans whenever you suck him off. Daisuke isn't one for roughness, as much as he tries to say otherwise. He's not the type to be extremely loud. The most you hear is a quiet "fuck..." from him, or a small whine.

-> Fan of mutual masturbation. He wants to know everything about you. That, and he enjoys watching your eyes flicker from his face down to his hand stroking his own cock. If Daisuke is in a good mood, he might make small comments, most being rhetorical questions about how you ever felt good without him.

-> There are so few headcanons for him NSFW-wise as I don't think he has much of a libido, honestly. It's unlike Tulpar!Daisuke where it's through the roof. He's happy to accommodate your needs, otherwise it's not something he thinks about.

[SFW] MECHANIC ANYA:

-> She's prideful, and she's not afraid to show it. By extension, you should be just as confident. Anya is your biggest hype girl. No matter what you do on the ship, she's there with a wide grin, ruffling your hair with a compliment.

-> As the mechanic, she's strong. You'll find yourself off the ground at random points of the day, Anya throwing you over her shoulder and sauntering off to god knows where. She'll never ask for your attention, only pulling stunts like these because she deserves it, obviously.

-> She wants you to praise her, too. Anya shows off around you, talking to you about a difficult task she was able to solve, or how even the Captain had to call her over to sort something out in the cockpit. She preens whenever she hears you comment on a job well done, brushing it off with a "Well, it was simple."

-> The girl is your biggest defender. If Daisuke gets too snappy with you, or the Captain is ripping you a new one, Anya will intervene with no remorse. She's happy to send them an irritated glare, pushing you behind her as she complains about how they even have the time to complain in the first place.

-> Playful ribbing with her is a must. You won't have a day with Anya where she doesn't poke fun at you (lovingly). If you tease back, she makes it a competition. Curly's exasperated when he pulls you two out of the third fake fight of the week.

[NSFW] MECHANIC ANYA:

-> Her sole focus is on you. She knows she's great in bed and she'll prove it.

-> A fan of anything oral, especially as foreplay. Her grin only widens when you're on your third orgasm of the night, begging her to slow down when she hasn't even gotten to the main show yet. If you gave her oral, she's clinging to your hair, her other hand clutching the bedsheet with a knuckle-white grip.

-> She's a huge fan of contact. Her hands are trailing any part of you that's not covered, poking and petting to see your reaction. She gets a massive kick out of it if you're especially ticklish. Even during sex, she'll find a way to make you giggle.

-> Another one for exhibitionism, except worse. She's happy to use any toy on you, so long as she holds onto the remote. Anya stands in the kitchen, eyes focused on you trying to keep your composure.

-> On particularly stressful days, she'll let you top and God's is she loud. She can only flush red when you slap your own hand over her mouth, desperately whining and bucking her hips into whatever touch you give her, her usual pride shattered.

[SFW] CHEF SWANSEA:

-> The kindest man on the ship, by far. You're everything he could've dreamed of. Daisuke rolls his eyes whenever he sees you together, grumbling about the jobs you were both forgetting about.

-> He's an old soul, and by extension has more traditional ideas of romance. His favourite thing to do is to wake you up with breakfast in bed, watching you get accustomed to being back in the land of the living, setting a tray of food in front of you.

-> The domestic life is pure bliss for him. It's hard on a ship with such extreme characters, but the kitchen becomes a second home to both of you. The others don't seem to care much for it – bar Jimmy who has to clean it every so often – meaning you two can spend quiet time together.

-> He'll teach you his recipes! He's happily waltzing around the kitchen, keeping an eye on you (and the food) as he tells you the common mistakes people make when cooking.

-> Shockingly good at reading any mood. You won't even have to tell him you're feeling sad, as he's already lending you a hand wherever you need it.

[NSFW] CHEF SWANSEA:

-> Another lover boy. This time, it's even more romantic.

-> Sucker for plain, vanilla sex. I don't think he could do many rounds at once, either. He's not in his prime anymore (and feels quite bad about it). He loves you though, and tries his best to meet your needs. Expect lots of foreplay. Your pleasure comes before his own, time and time again.

-> Swansea is more than happy to give you oral for hours. He still wants you to feel satisfied, even with his less-than-stellar stamina. You're the best thing he's tasted, perhaps better than his cooking!

-> With that, I think he'd be a fan of overstimulating you. He's happy to know you feel good, and wants you to feel your best! Swansea is more than delighted to make you cum over and over again, even before having penetrative sex.

-> He's good with his hands, too. This old man was able to rack up a lot of experience, you know.

-> If you're someone with a high sex drive, he'll do his best to meet your needs. Don't mind the flush on his cheeks, he's just not used to it. Same with people who are into more intense kinks - he's happy to please but you might have to guide him.

-> However, harming you is a no-go for him. Degradation is something he's hesitant about and outright violent kinks are ones he wouldn't go so far in exploring.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Birthday Song

Crosshair sings you a song for your birthday.

Crosshair x reader | 580 words

Note: Year 3 of my tradition writing super self-indulgent Crosshair scenes for my birthday 🙃 I will never tire of finding ways to make grumpy toothpick man soft and tender.

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you gazed out at the city from your balcony. It was chilly but not unbearable. It was your birthday and you felt at peace.

You'd told anyone who'd asked that you didn't want it to be a big deal this year. It wasn't a milestone age, there was a lot to worry about going on in the galaxy, it just didn't feel like the time for big celebrations. A nice, simple day was all you could really ask for.

Your man, Crosshair, was never one to make a fuss about such things anyway, so he'd hardly complained at the order to not bother with any special plans. Instead, the two of you had gone about the day as normal, attending to your own errands, comfortably working around each other without too much direct interaction.

Now you were taking a break outside, enjoying fresh air in last few hours of winter sunlight, silently reflecting on your year and the goals you had for yourself heading into the next one. You were content with where you were, proud of the things you'd accomplished, even if they weren't as impressive or flashy as others of your age. And you already had a few things to look forward to, new challenges to work through that would surely make you just as happy come your next birthday.

The small smile resting on your face started to grow wider as you felt a presence behind you. That was another thing to feel especially grateful for, you noted, as warmth pressed into your back and thin arms snaked around to pull you closer. You leaned into Crosshair's embrace, resting your head back onto his shoulder. His mouth pressed into your hair with a low hum.

Then the hum grew into a tune. You closed your eyes as soft words floated in the air around you.

Like a river flows... Surely to the sea... Darling, so it goes...

Your body subtly shifted to the side, and then to the other, as Crosshair began rocking you back and forth. Swaying in time to the music you both heard in your heads.

Some things are meant to be...

You loved his voice. Some called it snake-like; menacing, even. And you could agree it was not a tone you'd want to hear at the other end of a blaster. But right now, there were no blasters. There was no war. No reason for him to be so cutting and severe. Now, his voice was soft. Gentle. Conveying few but meaningful words. And when he sang, you felt even more of his heart being shared.

Take my hand... Take my whole life too...

You breathed in deeply, and then your voice joined his.

"For I can't help... falling in love... with you...."

A light kiss was pressed to your temple as your harmony concluded.

"Happy Birthday, love," he whispered.

You tilted your head to try and get a look at him. He smiled down at you, looking just as serene as you felt.

"I love when you sing," you said.

Predictably, he huffed a little. "Only for you."

And it was true. No one knew the talent he had but you. He could sell records, perform at ritzy lounges... as you often teased. But not today. Today, you could keep his voice just for yourself.

You hummed and stood on your tip-toes to give him a kiss. "And what a lovely birthday song it is."

All Characters Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565, @msmeredithrose Bad Batch Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd,@nekotaetae, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22, @dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @aconstructofamind, @fruityfucker, @tardisgirl420 Cannot tag (please update your blog settings to allow tagging or notify me of a name change): @the-stars-ar3-with-us, @horoscope-misreader96

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🎂 Birthday Cake story (2024) | 🎁 Birthday Surprise story (2022)

🌙 Master Master List | ☘️ Stories Master List

[riptides-n-roses]

Hiii! First I want to say I love your posts and one of the best! Second I Would like to request a Roman X Reader when he lost at WrestleMania 40 and how he would be like with reader backstage? If not it is fine!

GGRRAAAHHH! OFC OFC! I CRIED SO HARD THAT NIGHT OMFG! THIS ONE SHALL BE FLUFF FOR ONCE! ♡

changes - roman reigns

⛧ pair: roman reigns x reader

⛧ tags: @88changemymind @cyberdejos2 @reigns-prophecy [huge thank you to anon]

⛧ no warnings/smut this time. Just an emotional roman after an incredible match and reign.

⛧ writers block is the absolute worst omg. I'll go ahead and be honest, sometimes smut gets a little too hard to write and I don't really want this blog to just be smut. This will be my first fluff since most of my drafts are smut related. Also again this one is short but I hope it's a fun little read.

⛧ after an incredible title reign, things will be different but right now all roman can ever need right now is you.

⛧ word count: 588

Wrestlemania.

The biggest night in WWE. All superstars have an amazing opportunity to make a change or write history for the books.

This was also a night for some big title cards. One of which was your partner, Roman Reigns. He is the Trible Chief, The Head of The Table. The main event was when he takes on Cody Rhodes, for the Undisputed WWE Universal Championship.

It was a match everyone was talking about that sparked a lot of debate on TV and social media. Tonight's main event was going to be talked about all year regardless of the outcome.

You held Roman tight in your arms, giving him a big hug before his match.

"You're going to do great out there" you started, "it'll be a night to remember."

"I know it will." Roman replied, gently stroking your hair. "I made a lot of history with this title"

After a warm embrace for what seemed like forever, you let him go, giving him a kiss on the cheek as a signal for good luck.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

1...

2...

3...

Cody had finished the story. The new champion held the newly claimed title high as the audience roared.

"Here is your winner...and the NEW Undisputed WWE Universal Champion...The American Nightmare: Cody Rhodes!"

You watched the screen in the guerilla with tears in your eyes. This was one of the most beautiful moments in WWE storytelling. A lot of stories have been written and not just for Cody but for everyone involved.

You couldn't imagine how Roman feels in this moment. He's successfully held the title for an incredible reign of 1,316 days. 3 years. That was already impressive on its own status.

After the pay per view went off air, Roman was desperately looking for you.

"Y/N!" You heard him call out for you. You immediately went to go look for him, needing to give him the most well deserved love he needed.

When Roman saw you, he immediately rushed into your arms, holding you tight.

"Hey baby...I saw" you started, "Are you okay?"

It took Roman a bit to respond, knowing the entire match was a lot to take in.

"Tonight was a moment..." His tone was soft "I've made a name for myself, including my in ring career..."

You listened to him, allowing him to state how he felt in this moment.

"What I'm trying to say is...I'm happy. Not because of my reign but because of what it meant for wrestling. For this company..."

You felt him shiver, you think he was caught up in his feelings.

"I love you so much, y/n... you truly have helped me with everything for the 3 years I've held that championship."

Roman looked into your eyes, small tears forming in his eyes. You smiled and gave him a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you too, Roman. I'm happy I can be there for you..."

He smiled when he heard how you loved him.

"I know everything will change now...but you're still you, Roman. You've made an impact for WWE. You should be proud of yourself."

"Don't worry I am" He laughed, "Would you...like to get something to eat before we make it to our hotel room?"

You smiled, giving him another kiss "Sure. I think that'll make you feel better. We can get food and laugh about good times."

"Sounds like a plan"

The two of you kissed one more time before going to your dressing room, holding hands on the way there.

"I love you, y/n."

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox

Soldat Masterlist

The bickering had reached a whole new level of annoyance. Natasha wanted to jump right into the fight; for Nick. Steve wanted to think about a plan of action first. He hated not having a plan. And Steve’s new friend, Sam, was fine with whatever we decided; he was happy to help in whatever way we needed. I, however, did not want to do anything. I sat at the table in Sam’s kitchen with the rest of them, chipping away at my nail polish, trying to drown out their voices knowing they would try to make me choose a side. 

It had been one hell of a 48 hours. After Steve and I barely managed to escape Shield Headquarters, Natasha, and I found what was on the hard drive Nick left Steve; a location in New Jersey. Come to find out it was where Steve was trained for the war; pre serum. And what we found there was something that still wasn’t sitting well with any of us. 

Hydra had infiltrated Shield years ago thanks to Dr. Zola and had been creating weapons that could be used to eliminate millions of people all over the world. We had also found out who had killed Nick, granted I knew before any of them but decided not to tell them. 

The Winter Soldier. 

Once Shield had found us in New Jersey and after dropping a bomb on us literally, we made it back to D.C and were currently hiding out in Sam’s house. I was tired, hungry, and desperately needed a shower however everyone was bickering about what our next plan of action needed to be.  

I continued to remain silent, hoping that Steve could make the decision without me. I had seen a lot of shit during my years on Swat and in the FBI. I also faced a lot of scary things but nothing scared me more than the Winter Soldier and I was not about to tell my team why.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” I reluctantly looked away from my fingers and rested my eyes on Steve’s face. 

The bags under his eyes were heavy and his shoulders were heavily weighed with the guilt of everything happening. We both needed to rest before we did anything drastic. 

“What do you think we should do?” He questioned. 

They waited patiently for my answer, causing me to groan.

“Please don’t make me choose,” I begged while pushing away from the table, “I need some time alone.”

Ignoring their stares, I walked down towards one of the spare bedrooms Sam allowed us to stay in and fell onto the bed with a large groan. My body started feeling heavy, darkness starting to engulf me in sleep, and I almost succumbed when voices in my mind awoke me with a start. 

Soldat? What are you doing here?

You need to leave now. 

No, I’m not leaving you. I lo-

“Y/N?” 

Raising from the bed, I leaned back on my elbows and gave Steve a weak smile. He was leaning against the door frame, the muscles in his arms tensing as he crossed them over his chest. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I haven’t slept in over 21 hours and my body feels like it’s been thrown through the ringer. I need a massage and a hot shower,” I admitted while rubbing my shoulder. 

Steve nodded towards the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom. “I was about to shower. You can go ahead.” 

Sucking in my bottom lip between my teeth, I took in his appearance, suddenly wishing I could see him underneath the stream of water. He was only wearing his jeans with a white tank top and I fought the urge to suggest that we should shower together. 

“Or you could join me. Save water, ya know?” 

Fuck. 

Steve’s eyes widened at the request and coughed, trying to hide the arousal that pooled in his stomach. “I’ll just use the shower in Sam’s room.” 

My cheeks burned in embarrassment when Steve turned me down and I simply  nodded before dragging my feet towards the bathroom.

 “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I mumbled. 

“Y/N-”

Steve’s voice called as I slammed the door shut behind me. A twinge of guilt pulled at my heart for snapping at him but I was embarrassed that I had even suggested that in front of him with everything going on. I should have been worrying about what our next steps were going to be, not having shower sex with Steve

Groaning out in pleasure, I let the hot water cascade down my body, the dirt and sweat rinsing away with ease. Not wanting to be rude and use up all of the hot water, I stepped out a few minutes later wrapping a towel tightly around my chest. 

“Y/N?” A soft knock sounded on the other side of the door. 

Natasha. 

“Yeah?” I called back. 

“There’s some fresh clothes for you on the bed. Sam said an ex of his left a bunch of her clothes here so they’re fair game.” 

Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew Nat had a smug smile on her face. 

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.” I giggled. 

Once I knew I was alone again, I used my fingers as a comb to untangle the knots out of my hair before leaving the bathroom, shutting the light off behind me. My feet padded against the carpet but came to a halt when I saw the figure walk through the door, a towel wrapped tightly to his waist. 

Steve jumped a bit when he saw me, not realizing I was out of the shower yet. 

“Sorry! Nat said she had some clothes for me in here,” He apologized. 

“Of fucking course she did,” I scoffed. 

Silence fell between us as we both stared at each other. Steve’s hair was pretty damp still, water running down his broad chest, and I had to lock my feet into place to stop myself from running over to him, licking up the little drops of water. The sexual tension between us was getting thicker each second that passed and Steve had to discreetly adjust himself under his towel .

“Did the shower help?” His voice came out raw and husky. 

Licking my lips, I shook my head. “I still think I could have used some help.” 

Steve’s body went rigid and slowly nodded. “Sorry.” 

“Next time,” I jokingly suggested. 

“Definitely.” 

Steve’s eyes went dark with lust as they grazed over my exposed skin, as if taking a mental picture for himself. Feeling the desire pool between my legs, I pointed behind me. 

“I’m going to get dressed in the bathroom. Feel free to use the bedroom.” 

Grabbing the black leggings and the maroon tank top, I scurried into the bathroom, Steve’s burning gaze on my back. Once alone, I let out a few strong breaths to steady myself. 

I wasn’t sure what had come over Steve but whatever it was, I wanted to find out if it were his true feelings or just being caught practically naked that caused it. Biting my lip, I opted out of the leggings, deciding to just wear the tank top and underwear and after tousling my hair a bit, I walked back out into the bedroom, hoping Steve would still be there. 

He wasn’t. 

Letting out a disappointing breath, I pulled back the sheets of the bed, suddenly wanting nothing more than to take a six hour nap. I was about to crawl underneath when the door opened, Steve returning wearing nothing but sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. His hair was brushed back, a few strands falling into his face, and he had a glass of water in one hand. 

He looked like a fucking dream. 

I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you left?”

“I did. To grab some water for you.” Steve placed the water on the bedside table before locking his gaze with mine. 

“Have we decided what the plan is?” I questioned. 

He nodded. “We’ve got a few leads we can follow. Sam suggested we rest up before though. We’re leaving in a few hours.” 

“Okay,” I responded. 

Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets before nodding towards the door. “I’ll come wake you up when we’re ready to go.” 

“Stay,” I breathed. 

He blinked before nodding, not bothering to ask if it was okay. He knew I didn’t mind. 

We crawled underneath the covers together, Steve’s body warmth immediately warming me up without me touching him. I went to turn my back to him but his arms engulfed around me pulling me into his chest. Not fighting it, I rested my head against it, absolutely loving the feeling of having a body pressed against mine. It had been years since I’ve been in bed with anyone and had missed the feeling of it terribly. 

“Is this alright?” Steve questioned. 

“More than alright,” I cooed.

We fell into a comfortable silence and I felt the darkness starting to take over when Steve started running one hand through my hair, the other tracing shapes on my bare thigh. His lips grazed the top of my head and his breath hitched when I placed a leg over his hips. 

“Is this alright?” I mimicked his question, the sleep slowly taking me. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t even have to ask.” Steve groaned. 

“Let me go you asshole!” I screamed pounding on the bars in front of me. 

“Shut up!” The guard spat towards me. 

“You’ve kept me prisoner for days now. I’ve told you before, I don’t know anything!”

“I said shut up!” The guard pointed his gun towards me, immediately shutting me up. 

Biting my lip, I fell against the wall of my cell, a sob escaping the confines of my throat. 

“SOLDAT!You’ve returned. Watch her. I have to take a piss,” The disgusting guard demanded of a man who I hadn’t noticed before. 

The man stepped closer to the slightly dimmed cell and my breath caught in my throat. The light cascaded his metal arm and I scurried farther away from him. 

“I swear I don’t know anything about Zola, please.” I sobbed. 

Soldat turned his head to the side, studying me, his hair falling into his face. He pushed away the strands of hair with his metal fingers before looking around the small cell. Using his metal arm, he ripped the door to the cage open causing me to scream. I crawled away from him but the cool fingers wrapped around my ankle, dragging me over to him. 

Sitting up in bed, I let out a large scream, eyes snapping open as I took in my surroundings. I was in the guest room of Sam’s house, taking a nap with Steve. 

Steve.

Looking to my left, I noticed the empty spot that was no longer warm, meaning Steve had left the bed awhile ago. 

“Y/N?!” 

Steve had busted through the door when he heard my screams and was kneeling in front of me. “What happened?” 

I shook my head, not wanting to get into details. “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

“The hell you are. Your scream woke the damn birds outside.” 

My eyes snapped to the doorway where Sam and Natasha stood, worrying etched over their faces. 

“I said I’m fine.” I reassured and tried to get out of bed before Steve stopped me. 

His hands gripped my hips, keeping me locked in place. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, “And please don’t lie to me.” 

My heart fluttered at Steve’s worried eyes but I still couldn’t find the words to tell him about my past. 

“Please Steve, I don’t want to talk about it.” I begged. 

“Y/N, he needs to know.” Nat’s soft voice suggested. 

I looked at her dumbfounded but let out a low chuckle. “Of course you know. You’re Natasha-fucking-Romanoff.”

“I’ve known for a while now. I’ve just been waiting for you to tell them,” She admitted with a small frown. 

“Tell us what?” Sam asked. 

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about? I thought there were no secrets between us.” Steve squeezed my thigh. 

“It was something that happened way before I met you or Nat. I never thought to mention it because I didn’t think I would ever run into him again.” I quietly admitted. 

“Who?” Steve placed a finger under my chin forcing me to look at him. 

I clasped my shaking hands together and sighed, trying to find the courage to say his name out loud. 

“The Winter Soldier. Or I knew him as Soldat.” I breathed, “It was years ago, back when I was in the FBI. I was undercover in Russia gaining intelligence on a possible terrorist group run by Dr. Zola when I was kidnapped. Only at the time, I didn’t know what I know now about Zola.” 

Steve squeezed my hands. “How long were you a prisoner with them?”

“I stopped counting the days after ten. For all I know, I could have been held there for six months.” I revealed. 

“You didn’t know his name?” Sam asked, referring to Soldat. 

I shook my head. “No, the men only ever called him Soldat. It took me a while to understand what it meant; soldier.”

“That’s why you froze on the roof?” Steve suddenly started putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “He was the one who kidnapped you.” 

“God, no. He was my savior. He was the reason I escaped,” I assured them, “I don’t think I would be alive if it wasn’t for Soldat.”

Jealousy raged through Steve’s eyes at the mere thought of someone else protecting me, saving me. His grip on my hands tightened and I had to gently brush my fingers across his cheek. His face softened, only for a split second before he rose to his feet, his hands dropping from my hips. 

“He still killed Nick. So he’s not the Soldat you remember,” Steve’s demeanor and voice changed, almost with venom before he nodded towards Sam. “Have you heard from your informant?” 

Sam nodded. “He’ll be leaving lunch in an hour.” 

“Let’s suit up then,” Steve demanded, not bothering to look in my direction as he left me and Nat alone in the room together. 

“Man, jealousy does not look good on him.” She chuckled. 

“Whatever,” I mumbled before dragging my body to the bathroom to get ready for what I didn’t know would be the craziest, fucked up next couple of days. 

[candyheartedchy]

I messed up a friendship I had with somebody here on tumblr [Not giving there @ out bc I don’t want them to get harassed] and I feel awful but I know it was my fault I drove them away how do you cope with emotions like these I miss my friend but I know it was me that drove them away.. do you use self-shipping to help with loss ?

Back when I was a kid, maybe around 6-7, I had a best friend who lived in the same neighborhood as me. We both even went to the same elementary and middle school together. But once we were teenagers, we both sorta grew apart and later when we met up again one last time as young adults, we didn’t really know how to interact with each other anymore. I still think about her every day since we didn’t leave on bad terms or anything. And then after moving to a different town I ended up isolating myself for a few years until 2020 and started this blog.

In a way I guess self shipping was a form of coping with being friendless during that time, along with other things.

The sad reality is that people will come and go, and sometimes we have to accept that change, no matter how painful it is. I would say try to reach out, but from my experience, because so much time had passed, it would just end up feeling awkward. But also I try to give folks space too, though I’m just naturally worried I’m bothering people in general whenever I message folks.

But if you and your friend mostly just stopped talking to each other and there wasn’t any fight or anything involved, you could reach out. Just take baby steps.

Again self shipping is a good outlet for many things, because I ended up making new friends through the self ship community and the fandoms I was self shipping in. I do hope you can rekindle your friendship again with the person. But also don’t try to force it either if it doesn’t happen. Be kind to yourself.

[musicismymoirail]

Doll!Anathema is on preorder! ✨ I’m so so excited.

(Doll nudity under the readmore.)

Just! Firstly! That body is so fuckin’ cute! A lot of the bodies if you want a fat doll is just ‘pear-shaped’ but only just so. That’s hardly any fat on the arms, which makes sense. It’s easier to design dolls that can mix and match with other sizes. They’ll be more popular over all. :/!

In the size that I mostly collect, Summerbird was really the only one? o: And I do have a Summerbird in my collection (thank you forever, Pete!), but like getting another wasn’t gonna happen. :’) So it was a struggle trying to find a body I thought would work for Themmy. And then, this body happened.

And I love it! It’s so damn neat and looks so good and it still seems like the engineering would pretty solid. I love LoganDolls’ other body so I have a good idea they’ll still pose wonderfully, or pose in a way I can figure out in time, lol.

It’s short as fuck too, like. Doll!Ven is 41~cm, Argent is 38~39cm. Anathema? Gonna 35cm. :’D But that’s fine. I can get nem some chunky shoes or a box if the height difference in photos is a bit awkward, lol.

Also! I’m so in love with the head sculpt, like you have no idea! I had a few ideas for a head sculpt for Anathema but as soon as I saw Wren, I tossed out all those ideas. 😅 The slight smirky-smile and those dimples?! Perfect! I love them! I can see Anathema so easily in them, it’s gonna be fun! >:3!!

I’m gonna paint like 13,000 freckles and it’s gonna be a blast. Ven’s gonna have nir wanna-be emotional support sibling back (and let’s be real, vice versa for Themmy).

I can’t wait~~~~~ 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

(God. I never meant for them to look so alike but it does deeply amuse me when I draw them together, lol! Absolute little wanna-be twins, I love it.)

[fatehbaz]

patience being tested. being forced by a bizarre unfortunate situation to adhere to university requirement technicality by taking this simple basic elementary "introduction to environmental history" class.

this class is from facilitators/program which do, like, "history of the American frontier" or "history of fishing and hunting" and still basically subscribe to that old-school twentieth-century idealization and celebration of characters like Teddy Roosevelt and reverence for a mythical arc-of-history-bent-towards-justice narrative of the often-clumsy but ultimately-benevolent US federal government and its mission to "save nature" through the miracle of "sustained yield," while heroic federal land management agencies and "heritage" institutions lead to way, staffed by exceptional individuals (appeals to nostalgia for the frontier and an imagined landscape of the American West; ego-stroking appeals to flattering self-image that center the environmentalist or academic). where they invoke, y'know, ideas like "ecology is important because don't you enjoy cross-country skiing in The Woods with your niece and nephew? don't you like hunting and fishing?" which makes it feel like a time capsule of appeals and discourses from the 1970s. and it invokes concept of "untouched wilderness" (while eliding scale of historical Indigenous environmental relationships and current ongoing colonial violence/extractivism). but just ever-so-slightly updated with a little bit of chic twenty-first-century flair like a superficial land acknowledgement or a reference to "labor histories" or "history from below," which is extra aggravating when the old ideologies/institutions are still in power but they're muddying the water and diluting the language/frameworks (it's been strange, watching words like "multispecies" and "Anthropocene" over the years slowly but surely show-up on the posters, fliers, course descriptions, by now even appearing adjacent to the agri-business and resource extraction feeder programs, like a recuperation or appropriation.) even from a humanities angle, it's still, they're talking at me like "You probably didn't know this, but environmental history is actually pretty entangled with political and social events. In fact, we can synthesize sources and glean environmental info from wacky places like workers' rolls in factories, ship's logs, and poetry from the era." and i'm nodding like YEP.

the first homework assignment is respond to this: "Define and describe 'the Anthropocene'. Do you think 'the Anthropocene' is a useful concept? Why or why not?" Respond in 300 words.

so for fun, right now in class, going to see how fast i can pull up discussion of Anthropocene-as-concept solely from my old posts on this microblogging site.

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ok, found some

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I think that the danger in any universal narrative or epoch or principle is exactly that it can itself become a colonizing force. [...] I’m suspicious of the Anthropocene as concept for the very reason that it subsumes so many peoples, nations, histories, geographies, political orders. For that reason, I think ideas like the Anthropocene can be a useful short-hand for a cluster of tangible things going on with the Earth at the moment, but we have to be very careful about how fluid and dynamic ideas become concretized into hegemonic principles in the hands of researchers, policymakers, and politicians. There’s so much diversity in histories and experiences and environmental realities even between relatively linked geographies here in Canada [...]. Imagine what happens when we try to do that on a global scale - and a lot of euro-western Anthropocene, climate change and resilience research risks doing that - eliding local specificities and appropriating knowledge to serve a broader euro-western narrative without attending to the inherent colonial and imperial realities of science and policy processes, or even attending to the ways that colonial capitalist expansion has created these environmental crises to begin with. While we, as a collective humanity, are struggling with the realities of the Anthropocene, it is dangerous to erase the specific histories, power-relations, political orders that created the crisis to begin with. So, I’m glad that a robust critique of the Anthropocene as a concept is emerging.

Text by: Words of Zoe Todd, as interviewed and transcribed by Caroline Picard. “The Future is Elastic (But it Depends): An Interview with Zoe Todd.” 23 August 2016.

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The Great Acceleration is the latest in a series of human-driven planetary changes that constitute what a rising chorus of scientists, social scientists, and humanists have labeled the Anthropocene - a new Age of Humans. [...] But what the Anthropocene label masks, and what the litany of graphs documenting the Great Acceleration hide, is a history of racial oppression and violence, along with wealth inequality, that has built and sustained engines of economic growth and consumption over the last four centuries. [...] The plantation, Sidney Mintz long ago observed, was a “synthesis of field and factory,” an agro-industrial system of enterprise [...]. Plantation legacies, along with accompanying strategies of survival and resistance, dwell in the racialized geographies of the United States’ and Brazil’s prison systems. They surface in the inequitable toxic burdens experienced by impoverished communities of color in places like Cancer Alley, an industrial corridor of petrochemical plants running along the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, where cotton was once king. And they appear in patterns of foreign direct investment and debt servitude that structure many land deals in the Caribbean, Brazil, and sub-Saharan Africa [...]. [C]limatologists and global change scientists from the University of London, propose instead 1610 as a date for the golden spike of the Anthropocene. The date marked a detectable global dip in carbon dioxide concentrations, precipitated, they argue, by the death of nearly 50 million indigenous human inhabitants [...]. The degradation of soils in the tobacco and cotton-growing regions in the American South, or in the sugarcane growing fields of many Caribbean islands, for example, was a consequence of an economic and social system that inflicted violence upon the land and the people enslaved to work it. Such violent histories are not so readily evident in genealogies that date the Anthropocene’s emergence to the Neolithic Revolution 12,000 years ago, the onset of Europe’s industrial revolution circa 1800, or the Trinity nuclear test of 1945. Sugarcane plantations were already prevalent throughout the Mediterranean basin during the late middle ages. But it was during the early modern era, and specifically in the Caribbean, where the intersection of emerging proto-capitalist economic models based on migratory forced labor (first indentured servitude, and later slavery), intensive land usage, globalized commerce, and colonial regimes sustained on the basis of relentless racialized violence, gave rise to the transformative models of plantations that reshaped the lives and livelihoods of human and non-human beings on a planetary scale. [...] We might, following the lead of science studies scholar Donna Haraway and anthropologist Anna Tsing, more aptly designate this era the Plantationocene. [...] It is also an invitation to see, in the words of geographer Laura Pulido, “the Anthropocene as a racial process,” one that has and will continue to produce “racially uneven vulnerability and death." [...] And how have such material transformations sustained global flows of knowledge and capital that continue to reproduce the plantation in enduring ways?

Text by: Sophie Sapp Moore, Monique Allewaert, Pablo F. Gomez, and Gregg Mitman. "Plantation Legacies." Edge Effects. 22 January 2019. Updated 15 May 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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Geologists and other scientists will fight over [the definition of the beginning start-date of the Anthropocene] in scientific language, seeking traces of carbon dioxide that index the worst offenses of European empire which rent and violated the flesh, bodies, and governance structures of Indigenous and other sovereign peoples in the name of gold, lumber, trade, land, and power. [...] The stories we tell about the origins of the Anthropocene implicate how we understand the relations we have with our surrounds. In other words, the naming of the Anthropocene epoch and its start date have implications not just for how we understand the world, but this understanding will have material consequences, consequences that affect body and land.

Text by: Heather Davis and Zoe Todd. On the Importance of a Date, or Decolonizing the Anthropocene. ACME An International Journal for Critical Geographies. December 2017. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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From Aime and Suzanne Cesaire, C. L. R. James, Claudia Jones, Eduoard Glissant, through Sylvia Wynter, Christina Sharpe, and so many others, critical anticolonial and race theory has been written from the specific histories that marked the Black Atlantic. [...] Glissant also reminds us, secondly, of how cunning the absorptive powers of [...] liberal capitalism are - how quickly specific relations are remade as relations-erasing universal abstractions. [...] This absorptive, relations-erasing universalism is especially apparent in some contemporary discourses of […] liberalism and climate collapse - what some call the Anthropocene - especially those that anchor the crisis in a general Human calamity which, as Sylvia Wynter has noted, is merely the name of an overdetermined and specific [White] European man. […] [T]he condition of creating this new common European world was the destruction of a multitude of existing black and brown worlds. The tsunami of colonialism was not seen as affecting humanity, but [...] these specific people. They were specific - what happened to them may have been necessary, regrettable, intentional, accidental - but it is always them. It is only when these ancestral histories became present for some, for those who had long benefitted from the dispossession [...], that suddenly the problem is all of us, as human catastrophe.

Text by: Elizabeth Povinelli. “The Ancestral Present of Oceanic Illusions: Connected and Differentiated in Late Toxic Liberalism.” e-flux Journal Issue #112. October 2020.

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The narrative arc [of White "liberal humanism"] [...] is often told as a kind of European coming-of-age story. […] The Anthropocene discourse follows the same coming-of-age [...] script, searching for a material origin story that would explain the newly identified trajectory of the Anthropos […]. Sylvia Wynter, W.E.B. DuBois, and Achille Mbembe all showed how that genealogy of [White subjecthood] was [...] articulated through sixteenth- through nineteenth-century [historiographies and discourses] in the context of colonialism, [...] as well as forming the material praxis of their rearrangement (through mining, ecological rearrangements and extractions, and forms of geologic displacements such as plantations, dams, fertilizers, crops, and introduction of “alien” animals). […] As Wynter (2000) commented, “The degradation of concrete humans, that was/is the price of empire, of the kind of [Eurocentric epistemology] that underlies it” (154).

Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. “The Inhumanities.” Annals of the American Association of Geographers, Volume 11, Issue 3. November 2020.

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As Yarimar Bonilla suggests in regard to post-Irma-and-Maria Puerto Rico, “vulnerability is not simply a product of natural conditions; it is a political state and a colonial condition.” Many in the Caribbean therefore speak about the coloniality of disaster, and the unnaturalness of these “natural” disasters [...]. Others describe this temporality by shifting [...] toward an idea of the Plantationocene [...]. As Moore and her colleagues write, “Plantation worlds, both past and present, offer a powerful reminder that environmental problems cannot be decoupled from histories of colonialism, capitalism, and racism that have made some human beings more vulnerable [...].” [W]e see that contemporary uneven socioecologies associated with the rise of the industrial world ["the Anthropocene"] are based [...] also on the racialized denial and foreshortening of life for the sacrificial majority of black, brown, and Indigenous people and their relegation to the “sacrifice zones” of extractive industry. [...] [A]ny appropriate response to the contemporary climate emergency must first appreciate its foundations in the past history of the violent, coercive, transatlantic system of plantation slavery; in the present global uneven development, antiblackness, and border regimes that shape human vulnerability [...] that continues to influence who has access to resources, safety, and preferable ecologies [...] and who will be relegated to the “plantation archipelagoes” (as Sylvia Wynter called them) [...].

Text by: Mimi Sheller. “Thinking Beyond Coloniality: Toward Radical Caribbean Futures.” Small Axe (2021), 25 (2 (65)), pages 169-170. Published 1 July 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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Indigenous genocide and removal from land and enslavement are prerequisites for power becoming operationalized in premodernity [...]; it was/is a means to operationalize extraction (therefore race should be considered as foundational rather than as periphery to the production of those structures and of global space). [...] Wynter suggests that we […] consider 1452 as the beginning of the New World, as African slaves are put to work on the first plantations on the Portuguese island of Madeira, initiating the “sugar-slave” complex - a massive replantation of ecologies and forced relocation of people […]. Wynter argues that the invention of the figure of Man in 1492 as the Portuguese [and Spanish] travel to the Americas instigates at the same time “a refiguring of humanness” in the idea of race. [...] The natal moment of the 1800 Industrial Revolution, […] [apparently] locates Anthropocene origination in […] the "new" metabolisms of technology and matter enabled by the combination of fossil fuels, new engines, and the world as market. […] The racialization of epistemologies of life and nonlife is important to note here […]. While [this industrialization in the nineteenth century] […] undoubtedly transformed the atmosphere with […] coal, the creation of another kind of weather had already established its salient forms in the mine and on the plantation. Paying attention to the prehistory of capital and its bodily labor, both within coal cultures and on plantations that literally put “sugar in the bowl” (as Nina Simone sings) […]. The new modes of material accumulation and production in the Industrial Revolution are relational to and dependent on their preproductive forms in slavery […]. In 1833, Parliament finally abolished slavery in the British Caribbean, and the taxpayer payout of £20 million in “compensation” [paid by the government to slave owners for their lost "property"] built the material, geophysical (railways, mines, factories), and imperial infrastructures of Britain and its colonial enterprises and empire. [...] A significant proportion of funds were invested in the railway system connecting London and Birmingham (home of cotton production and […] manufacturing for plantations), Cambridge and Oxford, and Wales and the Midlands (for coal). Insurance companies flourished [...]. The slave-sugar-coal nexus both substantially enriched Britain and made it possible for it to transition into a colonial industrialized power […]. The slave trade […] fashioned the economic conditions (and institutions, such as the insurance and finance industries) for industrialization.

Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. "White Utopia/Black Inferno: Life on a Geologic Spike". e-flux Journal Issue #97. February 2019. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

tennis

[neo-punks]

i just fucking love neopets so much 😭

[hypmicdaydreams]

is anyone still in the mood for a hypmic imagines blog these days lol

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[fictionadventurer]

Things To Make August (the Month of Existential Dread) Bearable

Pray. A lot.

Plan little summer adventures.

Write a fun little retelling (and hopefully finish it).

Read an Elizabeth Goudge book (Book 3 of the Elliot trilogy seems right, because Book 2 is coming to mind a lot as an appropriate summer book).

Remember that sunflowers exist. Find lots of them.

[uchiha-gaeshi]

Fuck fuck fuck low self-esteem has ruined my life.

[front-facing-pokemon]