#and we came up with a shit ton of these

[romp2rvat]

if frankenstein was an alcoholic, would that make him drank-en-wine

[crow-n-tell]

Over the weekend me and my sister did this game where she’d name a bug/fruit/whatever and then we’d create characters for them along with little stories.

Oh! And bottom two characters are Celeste (Lunar moth) and Maude (stink bug) and they are in love :)

[sadkachow]

me: so yeah i feel super dizzy and lightheaded when i stand up and also just at random times of the day and also my heart just starts pounding randomly and it skips a beat randomly at least once a day and im also experiencing these other small things that i realized probably arent normal

the cardiologist: yeah, your heart’s beating too fast, but that’s just Normal Teenager Things™️! probably just like dehydration or something lol

[dootznbootz]

Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

[mihaelkeehlofficial]

Did you ever have another aspiration before becoming a runner up to L?

Yeah, I wanted to be the lead actor in a bunch of plays, and be super popular, but have nobody know that I was the secretive, mysterious author they were always searching for as well.

[lighthouseas]

on another note i fucking hate my theater director. lol

.

[roadkill-dreaming]

♡

[trashyandtiredsol]

The jist of my fainting experience in the tags here!! Long as hell

Feel free to tell me more about it

[cetoddle]

i’ll stop yapping but i also wanna say even tho no one asked that @ my prev post i think a lot of it does have to do with how old the community is. like we’ve done all the drama before and pretty much all of us are adults with like lives outside of the game and basic manners and stuff. it’s just jarring whenever i hear about something from ts4 community like oh yeah we had that drama like 15 years ago. weird that sims players are still having some of these discussions

[sega-saturn-arcade]

Last night I got curious over what exactly happened between me and Medkit and why it escalated. I’ll be walking through this in chronological order as MUCH AS I CAN, with of course the gaps of memory of the exact happenings.

This is a long one so i’m going to preface this by saying I am not entirely sure what happened yet and I can’t for sure say “this feels 100% right” which leads me to believe there’s something else to it? It’ll come in time, I am sure

GREEN is CONFIRMED MEMORY.

ORANGE is UNSURE.

PINK is THEORY.

MEMORY GAPS are in [BRACKETS]

Another Important Note is that not all unsurety is entirely true as I misremember details sometimes, and not all theory is false—it is merely speculation upon what might’ve happened. If this makes sense

Memory under the cut. CW/TW for violence and description of eye trauma.

Medkit and I enter the lab that day. It’s early in the morning, so not many people are there. Yesterday we might have had a breakthrough on the crystals in some way that showed us that there was something that could change the entire world, that they were more than simply stupid powerful. We decide to sleep on it, and come back the next day to discuss and do whatever we had to in the lab that day. We begin talking about what the crystals can do, both standing bc at our usual station. I start the conversation with wonder. I cannot remember my exact words, but I said something along the lines of how the crystals were amazing and could change the world. He agrees, and I continue.

[There is a gap here of how exactly we got onto this topic as to what was said.] I say something about how the faction’s militaries could utilize the crystals to protect its citizens and fairly have defenses, something of that sort. He disagrees with me and says that he doesn’t trust the governments, and especially Blackrock’s. He wants something better for the world in a way to utilize the crystals, something about the people personally. [I GENUINELY cannot remember what exactly he wanted however I do know it was anything BUT the government.] Maybe he perhaps wanted to keep our work away in some way, MAYBE destroy some of it? Regardless, we started arguing over it. The fight escalates very badly, and I push him and he pushes back, which sets me off and makes me go after him by pushing him again but harder.

[Memory gap, I do not know what exactly happened to get to this point.] I was on top of him, and we were struggling with each other. I clawed out his eye somehow, either with my bare ass fingers or gloves or whatever or a sharp object. I did not cut his eye out meticulously as I was too angry to consider doing that. (also, he was a childhood friend, I think the maximum amount of violence is whatever managed to occur during this fight. I also had morals despite it all.) If anything, the reason i clawed it out was because i was swatting at him with one arm and I managed to get his eye. He then (I would obviously assume) got mad at me for this and [does something to get up and turn the tides in his favor] clawed out my eye the same way? If not, he might have grabbed something sharp like a lab scalpel and specifically sliced at me.

I don’t think we had ever seen each other that mad at each other before. We weren’t thinking straight at all, or at least I wasn’t. I don’t think I ever truly intended the fight to start to begin with.

(Here’s where things start to turn into gaps and bits and pieces. I’ll try to connect them the best I can.)

I think it’s important to note neither of us had our gears—they were left at home.

We punch at each other and throw things [details unremembered and muddled]. At one point, Medkit grabs a scalpel. He slices at me and gets me pretty good in some places. He ends up stabbing me a few times in non fatal places (but they were still deep cuts that hurt—I remember retaining scars on my body from some of those slashes and stabs) This was kind of ignored by me in the long run because of adrenaline, but this fight went on for a long while and I was moving around a lot which I don’t think helped the bleeding.

As I am writing out this memory I remember him with a lab scalpel in his hand, I was on the other side of the lab and I was bleeding, but I know I was not focused in the slightest because adrenaline was doing things to my brain. We’d known each other all our lives, but I have never seen such anger and spite in his eye (this was after he took mine, judging by the conscious realization of a void on my left side of my vision).

It felt like there was only negative emotion in that expression and thought. Someone who had such gentle expression usually and tone had shown a fierce, driven-by-anger expression. I think I would have thought on it more if I wasn’t in the moment of anger myself, but I think a part of me paused to think about that. It wasn’t scary, but there was an emotion I couldn’t and cannot describe to you that was in the back of my mind.

[Memory gap. The fight continued for a while but I don’t remember the details.] Regardless, I started getting weak from the wounds I sustained and the blood loss. I remember feeling tired and a little sick, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. [Memory gap again between that, though this was a bit closer] I know at one point we grabbed each other and with his full body at full force shoved me backwards. I remember slipping on the shattered glass on the floor and falling backwards. There was a cabinet island table thing there, and I remember the adrenaline wearing off at this point. I don’t think I could physically get up. I might’ve blacked out from blood loss and gone into medical shock/hypovolemic shock.

[Large memory gap between then and the time of which I was aware I was in the hospital] I am genuinely unsure how much I faded in and out of consciousness, or if I even did because once again there’s a big memory gap. However I do know that my recovery took longer than I assume Medkit’s did, because when I was able to fully recover he had fled Blackrock entirely. I blamed myself for starting that fight and blamed myself for him fleeing Blackrock for the period of my life that I remember from that point. [Note: Assuming it was critical, it could have taken anywhere up to a week or two, to at max a month. I cannot remember what time period or how long it took.]

That is about as much as I remember of that fight, and while it is still a lot of detail I still have yet to remember it entirely as again there is a TON of missing detail. cool awesome i love memories. Yippee!

[aerodaltonimperial]

so back when i was teaching, one of the things i learned to look for were the "mood makers", as i liked to call them, of the classes. there were always 2 or 3 per class, and it was easy to find them in the first few days. you got those kids on your side, and it was a ripple effect with the rest of the students - they would all follow. so winning those kids over was huge when it came to how the year would play out. and from time to time, whenever the class was sort of faltering - middle of winter, of a big project, burn-out high - i would lean back in on those mood makers again to turn things around.

one particular class, when we had a big multi-month group project happening, were just... really struggling with getting their shit together lol. they were supposed to be practicing their presentations (english speaking class) and they were doing pretty much anything but, and their presentations were supposed to start the next class day. they were also PANICKING as i started giving out some feedback - which was NOT GREAT - as they were running through the lines they were supposed to be remembering. after realizing all of them needed so much extra work, i decided we needed to have a turn-around, so i invited one of the mood makers up to the front. i held out a cup to him, with two papers inside.

"one of them," i said, "says tuesday, and if you draw that, presentations go as planned. but one of them says thursday, and if you choose that one, everyone gets extra time to practice."

everyone was like OH SHIT. OKAY. THIS IS IT. and this mood maker, he was a big personality (they usually are) so i knew he'd really ham this up, and he did. we made a huge deal, with drum-rolls and everything, of him picking one out of the cup. he opened it up the paper and announced THURSDAY to a round of huge cheers. he was the class hero. everyone had TONS of motivation to work super hard on this gifted extra day, and really put the time in. their presentations were great. morale SOARED.

the plot twist was that both papers said thursday, because they all needed the extra time. my forever teacher advice: find creative ways to make things happen so that you get the buy-in from the class.

[wileycap]

I think we in the A:TLA fandom have missed the absolute potential of the fact that Ozai Firelord is canonically a fucking idiot. I mean the dude's straight up stupid. And I want to be very clear that this isn't a plot hole, this isn't a flaw in the show, this is a fantastic and super realistic element that honestly enhances my enjoyment of it! Dictators are often stupid and breed a culture of cronyism-over-competence. Any similarities with real world leaders, dead or alive, are coincidental yet inevitable.

What do I mean?

Well, let's take the Drill. When faced with the problem of Big Wall, Ozai's Fire Nation comes up with Big Drill. One singular Big Drill. Which, as anyone except an idiot could have predicted, immediately breaks down and accomplishes nothing. And if the Fire Nation had made it past the wall, then they would have been fighting through a narrow opening against people who can hurl long distance rocks! Which, if your face or body is vulnerable to high velocity rocks, is a bad thing for you and also for the battle.

Not to mention the resource cost of that thing! It's so insanely gigantic, it must have cost the Fire Nation the equivalent of trillions. For ONE drill. Not ten smaller drills. Just ONE drill. (Fanfic fuel: how much did Ba Sing Se profit off of stripping that drill for parts? Did they reverse engineer it? Did Long Feng keep that for himself?)

And you might be thinking, fairly, that it was War Minister Qin who came up with the drill and you'd be right, but it's Ozai who's approving all this shit. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and asking Qin if he et the whole edible, or even the in-character thing of burning him to death, Ozai just goes... big drill. Makes sense. We should have the biggest drill, because we are the biggest nation. Drill, baby, drill. sorry

It's not the first time, either! He also approves Zhao's invasion of the North Pole, apparently just because Zhao is good at kissing ass and hates Zuko? I couldn't tell you what merits Zhao has. We do not see him lead a single successful mission. The closest he comes is Pohuai, and even then its the Yuyan archers who do most of the work. (My longstanding headcanon is that the reason we don't see the Yuyan archers again is because Zhao blamed the whole thing on them and they were disbanded. This is great fic fuel for displaced Yuyan archers just, wandering around, being elite.)

He approved a massive naval invasion of the North Pole, surrounded by and made of water and ice, inhabited by people who bend water. A nation that was, by its own choice, completely out of the war.

Every time we see Ozai doing something, it's something stupid. Like disfiguring and banishing his firstborn child in a culture that has primogeniture. And then (once he's done pissing away a massive fleet of ships) he does the logical thing and sends his only other heir to bring his first heir back - even though his first heir would have been willing to return with a simple invitation. Like he could have sent a letter saying "dear son come home miss u pick up 200 000 tons of steel qin wants 2 build a drill lol", and Zuko would have come. (Okay, he did have a valid reason for having Zuko escorted, since he thought Iroh was a traitor, but there's absolutely NO reason to risk Azula. Why not send Combustion Man? It's the luckiest stroke of luck ever that Azula is 100 times more competent than her dad.)

Of course, a dictator(-wannabe) sending his daughter on high-level diplomatic missions is pure fiction. Nobody would do that.

The best part of this is that it's entirely realistic and in-character. I could absolutely imagine Ozai purging all of his competent admirals and generals, and then promoting brownnoses like Zhao and crackpots like Qin, because they promised him glorious destinies and secret knowledge of Big Drill.

I also really, really want a scene of Zuko and Azula realizing that their father is a fucking idiot.

I would also like to note that all this stupid shit happens after Iroh leaves with Zuko. So, here's a headcanon: the only reason the Fire Nation didn't immediately implode when Ozai took the throne and purged everyone is because of Iroh. Iroh leaving with Zuko doomed Ozai. It's also a nice little drop of complexity in Iroh's character - he knew he was single-handedly keeping the Fire Nation afloat, yet he only left when Zuko did. Did he plan for Zuko to take the throne from the start? What was his plan before Aang showed up? Did he not intervene in the Agni Kai because he was afraid, or because he knew that Ozai was making a huge mistake and didn't want to interrupt? Give me chessmaster Iroh please.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.

All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.

For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.

So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.

I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.

The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.

My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.

I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!

It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.

I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”

“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.

The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.

I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.

[trivia-yandere]

thinking about…

baby daddy jeon jungkook, who started off as a friends with benefit situation and ended up with you being pregnant. to think that two grown adults knew what the other were getting into when it came to unprotected sex - and upon realizing that you were late for your period, you almost wished it was a (curable) std.

warning: shameless smut, friends with benefits to lovers, to exes to lovers again??, not yandere i was just bored loll

baby daddy jungkook, the man that fucked you so good that you blamed him fully for impregnating you. “you said you were going to get me pregnant!” you had screamed at him, storming into his home without a care in the world - you knew the code to unlock it anyways. you threw the positive test at his head with such hot eyes that jungkook was ready to bend you over right there if you’d let him. “it was just sex talk!” jungkook exclaimed, picking up the positive test and examining it. 

baby daddy jungkook, who told you - a month later - that he didn’t want you to terminate the pregnancy. you and he hadn’t talked much - mainly because you ignored his calls and messages. but this time he came to your apartment and refused to stop ringing your bell until you answered. “and before you bite my head off, it’s just my opinion. you have the final decision in the end…” 

baby daddy jungkook, who somehow had you bent over your couch, plunging his cock deep inside of you. so maybe you two were a little impulsive at times, but thats what made you and him click. jungkook never knew the thought of getting someone pregnant was this hot - his hips cracking his bare cock deeper and deeper into you until you’re begging him to cum right into you. so maybe you were the problem too - but you were already pregnant, what else was suppose to happen?

baby daddy jungkook, who asked you to move in with him when you were 3 months. it wasnt as if you already werent here enough - you had more than enough clothes, a toothbrush and your own designated spot in his closet. “it would save you money on rent, too. you could use that money to buy things for the baby.”

baby daddy jungkook, who when you were 6 months, asked you to be bis girlfriend. it wasnt romantic at all - just a thought over dinner; a pizza with a shit ton of random toppings that you wanted and he hadnt told you no. his fingers dances on your small bump and says; “the baby is a size of an avocado, you know? i think we should make it official.”  when you blinked at him, he said, “like boyfriend & girlfriend official…is that what we are already? you sit on my face all the time-“ you shut him up by mushing his face away with a scoff.

baby daddy jungkook who, for the first time in nearly 3 decades of living, had raised his voice at his mother. his brother had cleared his throat while his father had attempted to change the topic of conversation - but his mother was left speechless. after a half an hour of “subtle” shade thrown your way before she told you that she didnt think a child was what jungkook needed now, he was done with being nice. “if you cant accept y/n and the baby, then you dont need to be around either of us.” 

baby daddy jungkook who stood true on his word. his weekly visits to his parents home had stopped all together - not until you were given an apology. “i dont think its that serious, kook. i would be mad too if my child had a baby out of wedlock simply because they were too horny to wrap it up.” but you were appreciative that jungkook had defended you, and within another month, you received the apology.

baby daddy jungkook who had managed to set up the nursery all within the 6 hours that you slept. you woke up to the finishing touches - and a bit overwhelmed that this was really happening. the soft gray crib laid in the middle of the room, the curtains drawn to let it bright, natural light. a rocking chair in the corner of the room, matching the color of the crib. he screwed in floating shelves, some displaying baby books and one pictures; an ultrasound, one of you holding your belly and one of you and him. 

baby daddy jungkook who thought he done something wrong when you burst into (happy) tears. maybe the color was wrong? should he have waited until you were up to set up the nursery? you and he didn't know the gender yet so you opted for more neutral tone colors. “i-i can change it around-“ “shut up, it’s so nice and im emotional!” you had said, easing jungkook’s beating heart. 

baby daddy jungkook who, at your baby shower that your friends were throwing you, demanded that he - and his own group of male friends - be apart of it. so, much to your friends dismay, had added them. the gifts appeared to be never ending. eun-woo coming with mountains of baby clothes, mingyu a custom blanket that was so soft to the touch, you were almost envious. yoongi, an old family friend if yours, stated that he was more logically, nearly stocked up your ceiling with diapers and wipes.

baby daddy jungkook, who nearly fainted when your water broke in the middle of grocery shopping at 2 am - an act you told him you were going to do regardless. so he had drove you and while in the ice cream section, a gush of water trailing down your leg and splashing onto the tiled ground. 

baby daddy jungkook who didn't know what to do while hours of labor. he held your hand, rubbed your arms and your shoulders, but still he felt like whatever he did wasn't enough. "i have to get a c section to get your big headed ass child out!"

baby daddy jungkook who's eyes were wide with shock as his eyes dances between your face to the doctors operating on you. he once watched a video on tiktok about the procedure and he fully understands that woman don't get nearly as much credit as they deserve. you think he looks cute in his scrubs, hair covered by a hairnet that causes you to giggle, the epidural you took easing the pain.

baby daddy jungkook who shakily takes the baby into his arms, his heart pounding after hearing the gender - a boy. how he and you managed to not find out the gender was incredible, but not as much as holding the baby was.

baby daddy jungkook who finds being a dad and experiencing the first everything was just amazing. he documented it all on his camera, zooming in and out of the growing baby's face - a baby that continued to grow over time. in a blink of an eye, his son had managed to sit up, craw, to walking. he and you had screamed at the first steps that it startled your son right back into crawling - but not for long.

baby daddy jungkook who, after five years, somehow, your relationship wasn't the same. you didn't blame him and he didn't blame you. people grow apart, right? they say people change in relationships all the time. that didn't mean that jungkook loved you any less.

baby daddy jungkook who assures he's always on time for pickups. he's leaning against his car just as you open the door to your apartment. his son, now 8, makes his way out. he has his face shoved into his ipad and nearly walks into him. "you ready to ride all the rollarcoasters?" jungkook asks, now catching his sons attention. "isn't he too small for that?" you asked, and jungkook turns his head to you.

baby daddy jungkook who doesn't hide the way his eyes linger on your chest, nipples poking through the shirt you wore. you weren't going anywhere and you were dressed comfortably - how he remembers the way you'd dress when you and he lived together. "stop staring at me, creep." you scoff, but your tone is teasing. "if i didn't know any better, i think you dressed this way for me."

baby daddy jungkook who somehow always finds his way in your bedroom - in which you welcome him into. your son is at school when jungkook comes one afternoon, flowers in his hands. he always assures to bring them once a month, stating that just because you and he weren't together didn't mean he was going to be an asshole.

baby daddy jungkook who fucks you just as good as he did when you and he were together - or just like the very beginning. his cock springing in and out of you rapidly, hands holding onto your hips. "your pussy's always so wet," he'd exclaim, hissing. "best pussy i've ever had, i swear."

baby daddy jungkook who loves whatever position you're in. when you flip him and bounce on his cock, arms wrapped around his shoulders. his tongue would find your skin, roaming around to mark it possessively. his hand would grip your breast, shoving his face into it.

baby daddy jungkook who cums in you so freely - an act you never not tell him to do. you and him are always so caught into the moment that you never bother to wear protection. so thats when you witness yet another positive test, you cannot be upset with jungkook more than yourself.

baby daddy jungkook who is giddy when you show him the test - nearly bouncing at the thought of you two repeating history again. "so, when are you moving back in?" he asks, leaning against the wall. "who says we're getting back together?" you scoff. "you haven't left my house in a week. our son already thinks we're together again."

[spaceycat]

MOREEEE CONGRESSMAN!BUCKY HEADCANONS !!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

⩇⩇:⩇⩇ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ༄.°

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: sports car by tate mcrae (2:45)

guys why the fuck do i keep finding the filthy gifs anyways anways MOVING FOWARD!!

✰ whenever you two are fucking in his office, he lets you bite his tie or his dogtags to keep you quiet - it never works though.

✰ the kinda guy to use a remote-controlled vibrator on you during a congress meeting and using A LOT of innuendos in his speech and loves to watch you squirm, he knows you're going to yell at him later for it.

✰ He likes to spoil you, since he has problems showing his feelings though the whole hydra situation - so buying you clothes, jewlerry or anything that you even remotely look at makes him so happy.

✰ But one time you felt bad and didnt want to spend his money, telling him you didnt really like anything - he'd pass you his credit card, "okay listen, with how much you spend, the softer i'm gonna fuck you when we get home - okay? I might even eat you out if you're good." AND YOU RANNNNNNN YOU RANN TO PRADA !! he fulfilled his promise and you got a shit ton of clothes and food and hey - bucky got a meal too ig....

✰ You love to whisper filthy shit in his year at fundraiser and award events when you know he's about to go on stage to get an award or a speech LOL

✰ Whenever he's driving he has a hand on the inside of your thigh, lord and his car is EXPENSIVE... like doctor strange in his movie, lord minus the crashing part..

✰ He loves to fuck you in the backseat of his car, finger you while he's driving telling you to keep your eyes in front. One time you came back from a fundraiser, and you were stressed out with the whole planning thing and how it all went to shit - Bucky sighed, pulling off his tie and moving over to your side of the car, sinking down to his knees infront of you and ate you out while looking up at you LORD. HAVE. MERCY.

✰ You used to be shy, sweet and innocent before Bucky. Wearing lacy lingerie and underwear underneath your dresses for the sole purpose of knowing you're wearing them and that Bucky will find out, sending him pictures or videos when he's on meetings or away of you fingering yourself or riding a dildo and just saying that you wish it was his, and ALWAYS sneaking into his office to just get off and he fucking loves it.

✰ He takes you on every campaign, buys the best hotel rooms, with large baths, pools, spas, hot-tubs, with endless amounts of food and champagne at your beck and call. And buying you dresses for every campaign session and event.

✰ He loves to see how many times he can fuck you before you have to leave for your next flight or event, "C'mon baby, cum one more time and then you can go shake hands with the Government" (oh lord now i want to write a fic about this.

✰ Whenever you help him write his speeches, you sit in his lap on his desk chair - you're fine until he sits his head on your shoulder placing soft kisses to your neck as his fingers slip down your pants, toying with your clit "Keep working baby.." "I need more stimulating ideas."

✰ You two are filthy, and yet no one will know - soon being Mr President and his First Lady.. (reminds me of those pictures of prince harry and meghan markle when they partied hardy LOLLLL)

[sobbingscripter]

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 2085🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

“What’re you doing here?”

Mark mumbles, brows knitting in confusion, tugging his goggles and tossing them onto the kitchen counter, watching as you tip your head back, emptying out your glass of water.

He shouldn’t be getting hard in this suit.

It’s skin tight. He’s surprised that there isn’t even much of a print. And he’s smart enough to know he’s not the problem.

So instead of watching the way your throat bobs as you swallow, he turns his attention towards the counter, admiring the natural detail as he taps his fingers on the surface, waiting for you to answer.

“I did your mom’s hair.” You answer, before taking a good long look at Mark’s suit, reaching for his wrist and you tug him out from behind the counter and you carefully examine his suit.

“Damn, no print?” You snort with laughter. “Guess you’re more human than I thought.”

Mark’s hands move to hide his crotch from your view, cheeks flushing a deep red and he scoffs.

“Fuck you, the suit just doesn’t show it.” Mark defends but he knows it’s pointless. You’d argue over anything and win. Even if the better half of your argument would be pure bullshit.

“Then how come your dad has a print?”

And Mark grimaces.

“Don’t look at my dad’s dick.”

“I’m not looking at your dad’s dick.”

“How do you know he has a print?”

“How DON’T you know?”

“Because I don’t look at my father’s penis!” Mark hisses and Nolan snorts as he walks into the kitchen, blue eyes lowered to his wrist as he clasps the Rolex into place.

“I hope not.” Before he places a muscular hand on Mark’s shoulder, giving his son an affectionate squeeze. “There’s no shame in being a grower, Mark. I was a grower when I was your age too.”

Mark’s lips curl into a disgusted frown, staring up at Nolan from beneath his brows.

“I hate this conversation. Please make it stop.”

Debbie’s heels click on the wooden floorboards, and Mark’s heart melts at the sight of his mother all dolled up. Long, black hair taken down from a and instead, framing her face with pretty curtain bangs and curled edges.

“How do I look?” Debbie shifts, tugging her dress into place.

“You look beautiful, Mom.” Mark coos, dimples deepening in his cheeks and you watch with soft eyes as Nolan presses a kiss against Debbie’s cheek. Lips brush against her ear as he whispers something intelligible and Mark groans.

“Dad, ew.” Mark gags. “Never say that again.”

“Your mother deserves to know I’m aroused, Mark. It’s how we show our love.”

Your nearly choke on your saliva, brows raised and you clear your throat. “So, this is where I leave.”

“I’m spending the night at your place.” Mark grunts. “I don’t need to hear any more than I’ve already heard.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Why would you give my mother curtain bangs? You know what they do to men.” Mark whines, as he steps out of your bathroom, a steamy mist following him out and you glance up from the screen of your phone.

Before staring at him.

“Damn it, Mark. You’re stretching out my shirt!”

Mark stands in the centre of your room, arms crossed over his broad chest, stretching out your cropped shirt. On you, it’s a sliver of belly. Not even your belly button is exposed.

But on Mark, it’s just below his belly button. Exposing that thin, dark strip of hair from his belly button, to where it disappears behind the waistband of your Powerpuff Girls nightpants.

“Don’t be selfish. You’ve got a shit ton of other shirts.” Mark huffs, glancing at himself in the full length mirror right beside your vanity, visibly checking himself out.

“And you could’ve picked any of them.” You frown before gasping. Mark raises his arms, flexing and you can hear the seams threaten to rip with each bulge of his muscles.

“Markus!” His neck snaps to face you so fast.

“Don’t fucking rip my shirt. I swear, I’ll tell your mom you nutted on your sheets in 7th grade and you came to wash them at my house because you were embarrassed. And then you made me wash them by hand because you wanted to be eco friendly.”

Mark’s eye narrow. “You wouldn’t.”

But his arms are lowering and it isn’t long until he’s crawling beneath your sheets, tossing an arm over your belly and resting his cheek against your shoulder. Sharp eyes focused on the screen of your phone, as you continue to scroll through your TikTok For You page.

“I wanna watch fidget board videos.” Mark mumbles, breath ghosting over the soft, creamy skin exposed by the wide neckline of your shirt and he pulls you closer, one of his thighs moving to slot between yours, his leg hooking around one of yours.

“Watch them on your own phone.” You grumble, but you’re already swiping, heading towards the search bar. “My phone’s charging.”

You don’t know how long you and Mark are staring at your screen, shrouded in darkness but you’re hyperaware of when his hand slides under your shirt, fingers tracing lazy patterns on the soft, sensitive skin of your belly. And you swallow. Before glancing at him.

He's not even paying attention.

Even breaths slip from his lips, enraptured by the way acrylic nails drag along beaded surfaces, open and close the caps of serums and Mark looks up at you through his lashes.

You watch as his pupils dilate, his puffy cheeks rosy with sleep and he’s fingers stop tracing those little infinities on your belly and he swallows. And you swallow. And he swallows. His eyes dart towards your lips and he takes a deep breath.

God.

Bad idea.

You’re in his lungs, you’re all he can feel, all he can smell and he’s so enamoured by you. And his hand shifts, fingertips dipping just past your waistband. And his fingers brush against the elastic trimming of your panties.

Mark thinks you’re so beautiful when you’re looking at him the way you are.

The pictures of your phone reflect off your pupil, and your pouty lips let out hot puffs of breath that fan over him just enough. And your pretty hair’s obscured by a bonnet. He can’t remember when you haven’t slept with them on and it’s like a part of you.

God, the way the light plays off the silk makes his brain fuzzy.

“You’re really pret—”

“Am I the asshole for having sex with my stepbrother at my dead grandmother’s wake?”

Your collective focus shifts back to the device, attention focused on the way Mahjong pieces are formed while you listen intently to whatever Reddit story you’ve found yourself on. Completely enthralled.

“That piece looks really pre— Wait, shit, did they get nut on the corpse?” Your eyes widen, and you shift just a bit.

“I don’t know, the subtitles cut off. Go back.” Mark instructs, his eyes focused and brows knitted.

“It doesn’t have that option.”

“Wha— what TikTok do you have?”

“Lite.”

And Mark groans.

“I’m embarrassed for you, you cheap ass.”

“I needed to save space, Mark.”

“But you’ve got all the megabytes of regular Pinterest, huh?”

“Pinterest is important. You know it helps me organise my wants and needs in life.”

“Gay.”

And you stare at Mark, eyes narrowing. But before your lips can even part to let out an insult, Mark’s phone beeps on the dresser and he glances towards the device.

“Bank robbery on 8th.” Mark’s already lifting himself, letting out an exhausted huff as he pulls the shirt overhead, and you watch, entranced by the way his muscles move beneath his skin. Rippling with each movement of his lips and your eyes follow the curve of his spine.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” Mark tugs on his suit, the elastic waistband of his boxers disappearing behind a flurry of blue and yellow, and he leans down, pressing a messy kiss against the side of your ace. “Don’t scroll too far. And check the doors!”

Mark’s disappearing out the window before you can say anything, wind whipping around him and you swallow.

He kissed you on the corner of your mouth.

And Mark only realises when he can taste the hint of coconut-flavoured lipbalm and his flight nearly falters.

And he grins. Dorky and so fucking adorably.

“Nothing can ruin my night.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌻🥀🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

Something did, in fact, ruin Mark’s night.

Mark sirs in your tub, hands obscuring his crotch from view as you pour yet another cup of baking soda in the hot water of his bath and he clears his throat. He’s hoping that this is the time the earth swallows him whole, his knees poking out the frothy surface of the water and his ears burn a bright, blushing red before he coughs.

“I didn’t know it was a skunk guy…” Mark murmurs quietly, and you don’t say anything, simply throwing in another cup for good measure.

“Mark, my house smells like the inside of a skunk’s asshole.” You huff and he flinches before glancing up at you.

Your brows knitting into a frown, your hand submerged beneath the water as you make the solution froth just a bit more. And you glare at Mark as you rise to your feet, your attention moving towards the porcelain basin instead. Where his suit is soaking in a mixture of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and dish soap.

And you sit on the closed toilet lid, arms crossed over your chest as you lean back against the cistern, watching as Mark soaks even further into the water. And you let out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?”

And Mark’s lips curl at the corners, a cute, sheepish smile donning his face and he nods his head. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You don’t wanna seem… Unhappy that he’s well and you know, ungrateful that he’s alive but you kinda wish he was slapped around a little bit.

And you let out a heavy sigh. No you don’t.

“Your goggles don’t smell.” You hum, drying the plastic with a fluffy towel before you slip them on, eyes narrowing and you examine the slight tint that they give the world around you. And your lips purse.

“So, these keep the wind out of your eyes?” You question, brows knitting because the tightness of the goggles feel a bit weird. But that’s probably because they’re made to fit his face.

“Uh…Uhm… Yeah, they k-keep the wind out my eyes.”

And Mark is CLUTCHING his shit.

Cheeks burning a rosy red that he hopes he can chalk up to the heat of the because goddamn, he’s so fucking painfully hard.

Just at the sight of you wearing his goggles and his mind is piecing together how you’d look in his suit.

“Uh— can you- Uhm… Can you leave? I need to pee.” Mark tries hard not to sputter over his words, but the way you look in his goggles is making his brain fuzzy. And he swallows, murmuring the softest ‘thank you’, when you get up, your footsteps quiet against the tiled floor before you shut the door behind you.

“Save me a cup!” You chirp and he groans. “Ew, you’re so gross!”

Mark swallows. Before looking around your bathroom, resting back against the edge of the tub and he lets out a heavy breath, glancing towards your ceiling.

“M’so fucked…” He groans quietly before glancing towards his lap, and he looks towards your laundry hamper. A pretty faux basket, plastic strips weaved and decorated with little plastic flowers.

And Mark’s brows knit into a little frown, a low moan leaving his lips.

“No… Mark, don’t do it…” He mumbles under his breath but he’s already leaning over the edge of the tub, reaching into your hamper and pulling out the first pair of panties he feels.

A pretty purple pair, lace trimmings and surprisingly wide gusset. But then again, he knows you’d never play with that pussy lip slip bullshit.

Mark swallows, staring down at the cotton and lace before he brings it to his nose, fisting his cock beneath the water.

“God, I’m disgusting.”

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

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