#pls let me know?

[kae-karo]

Ok so I am in love with your fantasy AU (the one that starts with DabiHawks) on AO3 especially the BaukTodo one 🥰 sooo my question is, do you have any quick advice for an amateur writer that wants to do their own fantasy AU? But I love novels of advice too in case you have time haha i know it’s silly to thank you for this but I appreciate how approachable you are. I’m just shy lol ok bye…

HI DEAR I HOPE U KNOW THIS ASK MADE MY DAY ???? u are so sweet, first of all thank u so much i'm so glad you're enjoying it so much!!! ngl i love excuses to talk about writing from a meta perspective so i am ALWAYS glad to offer my thoughts!! (also, fantasy dabihawks et al series for reference - x)

i think when it comes to a fantasy au especially (although this could feasibly be applied to other au ideas) there are 2 key approaches, and really that just depends on how you personally prefer to write. the first is a worldbuilding-focused approach, the second is a character-focused approach

in a worldbuilding-focused approach, i usually view the goal as setting the stage for your characters to be dropped in - building the magic system, if it exists, the political system/governing bodies and hierarchical systems, the world state (wars? power struggles/imbalances? stuff like that), and the local states that might affect your characters (ie are they subjected to the governing bodies? the justice system? the slums or small towns? etc) - i actually have a good friend who ADORES worldbuilding, so a lot of this is stuff i've learned from him. from there, the world gets applied to the characters - do they have magic? if so, how does that affect them? are they a part of the governing body, subject to it, outside it? etc. i'll be super honest, though, this approach is not my strong suit when it comes to fantasy aus! i'm not a very good planner, and going from the outside in (worldbuilding first) requires a lot of planning 😔

so, with that said, i'll dive into my personal approach, which is character-driven. and, in many cases, situation/interaction-driven - i'm more adept at starting small and working my way outwards as topics become relevant, and i am notoriously very horrible at planning, so if you are a planning person, this might not be your exact cup of tea lmao

okay so i think fantasy aus are SO much fun but can definitely be tricky, if you are like me and are a very character-driven/interaction-driven person when writing. if you are indeed like me and haven't built out a whole entire world from scratch prior to building (or inserting, when we're talking fanfic) the characters/interactions, some things that i've found helpful to have really solidly nailed down are the magic system (if there is one), general political climate (kingdoms? rival countries? power structure? religion?), and relevant influencing factors

for a magic system, which tends to factor pretty heavily into my fantasy aus, my key considerations are typically:

how does magic happen? via writing? speech? diagrams/glyphs? rituals? a natural energy flow from a person who can control magic? can everyone control magic or just certain people? are certain items involved/required for conduit purposes, or for ritual purposes?

what is the cost? most of the time, magic has a cost, though it doesn't have to (especially if magic isn't central to the story!) but it can be meaningful (like dabi's magic in my fantasy au) to the character's development or mannerisms, or to the way they interact with the world. costs could look like energy drain/passing out in extreme circumstances, physical costs, costs prior to doing magic (sacrifices of some kind, either to oneself or others), emotional costs/effects (i'm lumping this in here, but magic users with innate magic of some sort having emotional moments that trigger their magic is *chef's kiss* content!!), is the cost a damage to their mental health, etc!

what are the limits? can magic do anything? (if it's not relevant to the story, maybe it can! or limits are never discussed, but usually, they matter!) it could be a user's limits, limitations of creation or impossibility, or varying degrees of difficulty - transportation might be a challenge, but lighting a fire might be considered simple. or the other way around, if that makes sense in the world or for the story! this can also tie in with costs - ie a healer might not be able to heal a lethal wound if the cost for magic is one's own energy, as that might mean the magic user would have to die in order to heal the other person!

what is the societal reaction to magic? friendly, wary, outright hostile? is there any relation to religion, if it's relevant? is magic ubiquitous? rare? just rare enough that it's unusual to come across, but not unheard of? is magic classified in any way, either to outside users or to everyone? is it categorized or structured, ie with terms like '-mancer' (pyromancer, necromancer, etc)? is magic forbidden, or are certain kinds forbidden? if so, why? and how logical is that forbiddenness? is it out of a desire to protect magic users? or to protect non-magic users? or some other reason altogether?

what is the characters' reaction to magic? how do they feel about it? are they a user? if so, do the costs affect them? how, and how severely? do they fall into a category of magic user? are they set apart from other magic users in some way? what are their opinions in comparison to the overall societal opinions on magic? how do they react when encountering new people, where magic is involved?

this is a super minor one but i find it useful to pick terms and stick to them! are the magic users called magicians? sorcerers? wizards? witches? mages? do they vary based on the magic user? are there gendered terms? are there slurs, if that's relevant? what are the magic activities referred to as? spells? rituals? incantations? are there more specific terms for types of magic (again, terms like pyromancer, necromancer, etc), or terms for different degrees of magic, dnd-style? basically, because we're the ones defining it, sticking with something consistent helps reader understanding, and if there's a difference between 'witch' and 'sorcerer', or 'incantation' and 'ritual' if it's relevant!

ngl a lot of times i have this sort of already intrinsically figured out by virtue of what i'm writing, what characters will be a part of it, and how they interact - i knew the cost of dabi's magic would be something physical early on, and knew the reaction both hawks and initial village would have to his magic. the limits i ended up figuring out in tandem with the concrete decision about how the cost manifested, and the method of magic was basically decided from the start to be something intrinsic that didn't require any spells, words, etc! however, i crafted the method by which dabi received his magic as i went, mostly by answering relevant questions as they arose within the framework i'd already built

i've also written fics where magic doesn't have a huge prevalence, but it does exist - and most of the time with those, my process is 'only answer the questions that need to be answered'. how does the character do healing magic? it's innate, he was born with it, but he doesn't use it often because it draws dark forces to him and is widely unaccepted outside his home country. why is it unaccepted? oh, because the dark forces are dangerous, and they've gone to war with the people in his home country. there, questions about magic answered in a satisfying way, with the depth relevant to the plot. as a side note, is there a cost to this character's magic? nah, not really, because the cost isn't relevant and he doesn't use his magic often enough in the story for it to be a topic of discussion. for the most part, i find i work best when the amount of effort i put into building the magic system directly aligns with how relevant it is to the story

okay now that i've waffled about magic for like sixty five years,,,,,everything else lmao. i think it's pretty relevant to at least have an idea of the political (and religious, if relevant!) climate to the extent that it affects your characters - dabi is (spoiler alert i guess?) son of the king, hawks is a part of the spy network. the characters fit into the political structure, which means i need to build it out around them as far as it's relevant. and ofc that got a lot more complicated as i started adding characters, so for me personally, i found it especially beneficial (contrary to instinct) to have only built out exactly what i needed to know. it gave me a lot more freedom and flexibility to build beyond that with new characters without directly contradicting anything i'd done/said so far. this is definitely my personal favored approach, but there's also nothing wrong with planning it all out ahead of time - if you've accounted for everything relevant one way or the other, then it hardly matters how you got there!! i'm just horrendous at planning lmao

and now i'm using the most generic term in the world but..."relevant influencing factors". which is super vague, but really i just mean...what matters to the characters? if i'd told my whole story from, say, bakugou's pov, all the stuff about the intricacies of dabi's magic might be totally irrelevant, and there wouldn't have been much need to even build out all that detail. but i might've had a much stronger focus in detailing the army's proceedings, the hierarchy, etc (which doesn't become relevant for dabi and hawks til they're dealing with it directly!) this could expand in a thousand directions, but basically the gist of it is twofold: relevance to the characters in the moment and relevance to them eventually. if your characters are coming across something, make sure you know what your characters need to know about it, then make sure you know what you as an author need to know!

say they're stumbling across a shop in the rain - do the characters care about the wares being sold? the shopkeeper or the building? if they do, how much do they care? passing notice, maybe more ardent notice if it's a character known for their attention to detail or awareness of surroundings? maybe it hardly matters what they sell, your characters are only staying for the night, they'll be gone by morning. but you as the author want them to take note of the shopkeeper - maybe a physical description, if it's relevant later, or something they say, etc. maybe you have a whole entire backstory for them, or maybe you don't! maybe the characters only note that the roof is leaking, but everything else about the building is irrelevant. rinse, repeat, and apply to everything your characters come across! sometimes, this is where worldbuilding really shines, if you don't have to build the world as you go - but sometimes, building as you go leads to new ideas and discoveries that take you off the beaten path! that's part of why i love character/situation-driven approaches so much, it allows me more freedom to have my characters change course. perhaps one of the characters would notice something unusual about the shopkeeper, maybe ask after some topic and discover something that becomes cleverly relevant later on, or maybe it steers them down a different path from that point forward! either way, i find that 'what is relevant to my characters'/'what might be/will be relevant down the road' helps me build exactly the world i need to tell the story i want to tell

okay last point i promise lmaooo i know you wanted a novel i'm giving u like a four part series alskdjfsdf but the other general things i've found helpful are timelines (i had one written out for the dabihawks fantasy au once it got more complicated!) to make sure characters are referencing the right times/time periods (ie a week ago, two weeks ago, etc). i've also done timelines that include which characters were where, if that got especially complex. and while i don't often have planning docs anymore, for big stories like that, i had a lot of my details about the magic system, concepts, ideas, etc all written down in one place to refer back to and make sure i was consistent! i also have a personal discord server for just me where i put ideas now, and i'll make channels (most of the time, if i'm somewhat organized) that have references/scenes/etc which serves as the equivalent of a planning doc nowadays

ANYWAY i hope that was somewhat helpful? every now and then i have the thought to do a (general) writing advice post, so perhaps i'll do that at some point if there's any desire for more/more generic thoughts/experiences/advice?

[brattybottombunny]

i have two genuine questions

1. has anyone ever thought about me topping them?

2. do any bottoms/subs wanna top me? 👀

[petitprincekiryu]

[rnodric]

the earthquake that struck afghanistan and killed more than a thousand and estranged many more is getting little to no media coverage. it's ridiculous to think about how the world would've reacted if that same calamity were to hit a western nation. please pray for the oppressed whose voice is never loud enough to be heard.

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Following Orders

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Plot: Bucky is always grumpy, so you've resorted to being aggressively bossy. But he will show you what following orders really looks like.

Warnings: 18+. Smut with a plot.

Words: 4,8OO

A sharp hiss comes from the man before you and you clamp your thighs around his ribs tighter to steady him, the air pockets from the storm that make the plane shake and dip through the sky already making it hard enough to finish your sutures on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Would you sit still?” you snap at him and grab his shoulders to pull the open wound closer to you and make it easier to see what you’re doing. In a plane, with minimum light and a diminutive amount of supplies to help your colleague with – a colleague that never manages to ever crack a smile, especially not towards you – your current situation pretty much sucks.

“Would you just let the serum do its job?” he sneers back, but lets you pull him closer anyway as he drops his head back down, his elbows resting on his pulled up knees.

“I think it has proven to not do its job, don’t you think?” you snarl and wind the needle through his flesh again, finding it harder and harder to be careful if he keeps snapping at you like this. But your reasoning seems to shut him up since all you can hear now are small groans from the back of his throat when you tug at the torn skin.

The healing powers the serum usually served Bucky with, have abandoned him and you have a feeling it’s because he has barely slept in the past two weeks and your current mission is an assignment from hell that has lasted longer than any of you anticipated.

Yesterday, a fish hook back at the harbour had made a gnarly gash into the flesh of Bucky’s shoulder and you’d never heard him roar like that before. However, once he saw you, he quickly composed himself and made sure the two of you got out of there and onto the nearest jet. That’s where you got clear instructions from Steve to make it to one of the safe houses on the other side of the world. Why so far away, you had no idea, but you assumed the team had to split up because the intel Steve and Natasha were after gave them information that could harm the entire team.

This whole ordeal seems far from over.

So now you’re stuck on a jet for ten hours with Bucky sitting down between your legs and you situated on one of the crates in the loading space as the jet navigates through the storm on autopilot. It’s been four hours and you had slapped Bucky over the head when you realised that his wound hadn’t started healing yet at all, activating autopilot as you grabbed Bucky by his jacket and dragged him back. You were surprised that in spite of his whining and grumbling, he didn’t use his superstrength to stop you.

You’re confused that the serum could ever even heal a wound like this since you’re sure the tissue was stretched too far. So to prevent infection and improve the self healing, you offered – well… forced – him to let you stitch him up. One glare of yours and Bucky decided not to fight you on it. Besides, he couldn’t bring up the energy anyway, especially not against you.

Bucky is exhausted and the feeling of your warm thighs against his sides as you stitch him up, combined with the rumbling of the plane, almost has him lulled to sleep. After all, a soldier can sleep in any condition. Until of course, a nightmare makes the bliss dissipate.

Finishing up your handiwork, you gently clean the wound once more, making Bucky clasp onto your calves for support, before having it covered with a large bandage.

“You good?” you ask him as you throw the contaminated materials away.

“What the hell do you think?” he grunts and you flick him in the head.

“You’re welcome, you ungrateful dick.”

Bucky lets out a huff as you come to a stand, walking over to the side of the jet and pulling out one of the bunks. Moving over to one of the stocking cabinets, you find a sweater around his size and throw it in his direction.

“Put this on and for everyone’s sake, get some fucking sleep. You’re unbearable to be around,” you order and walk forward again, slipping back into the pilot seat as you check the coordinates again, hoping the storm didn’t mess with your course.

“How are you so aggressive when you’re trying to help?” he grumbles under his breath, not quite low enough or you not to hear. So you turn your head to give him another look and you see him struggling to walk. Quickly coming back to a stand to jump to his side, he almost pushes you off until his vision starts to spin. Gently helping him straighten up and walk over to the bunk, you look up at him.

“Because you won’t let people help you, but you’re surprisingly good at following orders,” you simply answer and help him down onto the bunk, your eyes softening when you watch him wince. “Seriously Bucky, get some sleep. I’ll keep on lookout and I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Bucky reluctantly agrees and carefully lies down onto the bunk. The softness in your voice almost swept him to sleep without getting situated first, but he puts his trust in you and allows himself to fall asleep soon enough.

…

A gentle stroke over his arm makes his eyes flutter open much more peacefully than he usually wakes up and his eyes meet yours. Your voice is gentle, understanding that he came from the deepest sleep he’s had in a long time.

“We’re here. You want to come inside?” you ask him and he pushes to a sit with a deep grunt, your hands gently helping him up. That’s when Bucky notices a thick layer of multiple blankets slipping down to his hips and the chill coming in from the loading rig that’s descended onto the massive grass field the jet had landed on, the warmth from his sleep chilling his skin.

Bucky slowly assesses his surrounding and nods, “How long have I slept for?”

“The storm derailed us from the course, so you had a few extra hours. I loaded everything into the safehouse and have some food on the stove already. I’d say about eleven hours in total,” you explain as you walk off before putting your hands on your hips and staring him down. “You good to walk, soldier?”

Bucky shakes his head back to reality and nods, pushing off and following you down the rig, towards the cabin at the edge of the full forest surrounding the field.

“You stayed awake for that long?” he asked as he sauntered after you into the cabin.

“Took a short nap myself, just to be sure I could stick the landing without crashing to our deaths.” You shrug and slip your thick jacket off before making your way further into the home, walking up to the stove to check on the simmering food.

“Come here. Need to take a look at the stitches,” you bark your order and turn back to him as he walks over, a deep frown still etched into his face even after the good sleep he had.

“So bossy…” he grumbles and you roll your eyes, forcefully spinning him back around and lifting his sweater up over his shoulder where Bucky’s metal hand catches onto it so you can inspect him.

Removing the bandage, you smile when you see the insane improvement to his skin and open one of the drawers to grab a small knife to cut the stitches with. Gently cutting them and leaving just his flesh to do the rest of the healing, you’re almost sure you can see the skin mending itself.

“I think this might not even leave a scar,” you tell him proudly with a tinge of awe, and he spins around to face you.

“Good. What are we eating?” he asks and peers over the stove.

“Hot air for your rude ass.” You roll your eyes and lift the lid of the pan to stir the soup you had simmering on the stove.

In the beginning, you wouldn’t touch Bucky’s presence with a ten foot pole. The man radiated introversion and pretty much only wanted to talk to Steve. After you saw him snarl and snap at any other colleagues trying, you stayed far away from him, despite your initial intention to make him feel safe and welcome. But Steve saw your professional and withheld response to the whole Bucky situation as the perfect asset to make you both each others’ partner in missions. You wanted to complain – you really did – but you worked exceptionally well together. It turns out, when you don’t talk, you get an awful lot done.

It’s not that you don’t like Bucky, you greatly appreciate him as a colleague. But if he only likes you when you mind your own business, he would be dead. The amount of times you have saved him from himself is too many to count and you gave him a scolding twice as often. Yet all Bucky ever replies with is a huff, a roll of his eyes and turning his back on you as he saunters off to someone who won’t be on his ass all the time.

“Always so mean,” Bucky grumbles and lifts himself to sit on the kitchen counter, cleaning his hand with a cloth he found laying around.

“What can I say? Your endless optimism and happiness just brings out that side of me,” you hum sarcastically and blink harshly a few times to will away the sleep in your body, demanding for you to have a nap, making you unable to see the hint of a smile at the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

Not much later, the two of you finish your soup and you get up to clean the bowls and stuff them away, but Bucky clasps his metal fingers around your arm and stops you.

“Get some sleep. I’ll clean up,” he orders, his voice surprisingly gentle. But you frown at him and shake your head with a shrug, trying to wrench your arm loose from his grip only for it to tighten even more. “Not a request, sweetheart. Sleep, or I’ll knock you out.”

“Resorting to threats now, Barnes?”

“Don’t tempt me. You don’t know where I draw the line.” His warning and narrowed eyes soften on you and it tugs strangely at your chest. “Sleep.”

“So bossy…” Noting the seriousness in his eyes, you know not to fight him on it any longer and you put down the bowls, throwing him one last defeated scowl before making your way over to the couch and curling up on the worn cushions after putting a blanket over it.

The last thing you notice as the weight of sleep presses you into the cushions, is the gentle touch of a duvet being tucked around your snoozing frame.

…

To say it’s disorienting to wake up revitalised in the middle of the night, in a cabin you don’t know, where it’s so dark that you can’t see a hand in front of your face, is an understatement. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your pulse having erratically quickened from the mind-numbing sleep it was in mere seconds ago, and your fingers dig into the cushions below you to ground yourself.

Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you hear a loud grunt and something catches onto your legs, pulling you down. In your sleepy state, you barely get to scream before you’re pinned under a super soldier that looks like he went into fighting mode with his eyes closed, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness.

“Bucky. It’s me!” you hiss and he squints down at you, taking a second to realise before slowly letting go and flicking on the nearest light, still straddling your hips.

“What the fuck, man…” Bucky groans and rubs his eyes, his voice rough and raspy from sleep. “What are you doing?”

You peer up at him with wide eyes “I just tried getting up. I couldn’t see shit, so your stomach became the ground.”

Slowly climbing off you and resting his back against the couch, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and heaves a deep sigh.

“Well, that’s my rest gone for the rest of the night…” he grumbles with disappointment and runs a hand through his hair. You come up to a sitting position as well and make a noise in agreement.

“No. You’re going back to sleep.”

Your head snaps to him, “Excuse me?”

“Sleep.”

“What. Or you’ll knock me out?” you scoff as you rub your eyes.

“Don’t believe me?” His eyes are on you now and you tense before slowly turning to face him again.

“You are not going to knock me out!” You think. Right? “You’re not going to punch me, Barnes!”

He lets out a low laugh that skitters down your spine and your brows pull together. “I don’t have to punch you to knock you out. There are plenty of other ways.”

Your sleepy brain has a hard time catching on, before your eyes widen and you let out a noise of disgust. And your heart starts to pound harder at the wild insinuation. Why your heartbeat drops to between your legs, is something you ignore for the time being.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff, if only to distract his senses from the heat radiating off your face, “you can’t fuck a woman to sleep.”

He leans in and you are on the edge of knocking him out, but his breath on your skin halts you. “You have any idea of the perks of being a super soldier?”

His voice, that deep fucking voice and the gravel in it, makes you gulp, your eyes fluttering against all your inner protests. Your fingers curl on top of your bent knees and you quickly scramble away, up to a stand. Bucky laughs up at you and shrugs, standing up himself.

But that’s it. You don’t move.

You stay quiet. Contemplating. Like only now his words sink past your skin and into your system, which heavily responds to the idea of Bucky.

Bucky fucking you. So hard and deep that you can’t help but cry out, but sob for more. You crave the satisfaction of sleep after a good, thorough pounding. And by someone who is strong and firm and has a filthy mouth. Someone you have no other attachment to. Someone you know answers perfectly to you, as proven by the many missions that showed the two of you working in such synchronised manor, it almost scared you at first.

Bucky cocks his head, “Is that what you need?”

You catapult out of your thoughts and quickly look at him again, “What?”

A smirk. “You need me to fuck you to sleep, sweetheart?”

Fuck. That is a bit direct. And if it doesn’t make you almost drool.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you whisper breathlessly. It sounds like a plea and round eyes look at him like it is.

A plea.

But not for him to stop.

“Why?” He takes a step closer to you, his eyes darting between yours. “What does it do?”

You roll your eyes and his flesh hand raises to cup your face. His long fingers tangle into the side of your hair and his thumb tips your jaw up to tilt your head towards his gaze.

“Use your words. What does it do?” he rasps, taking another step closer until he breathes your air, leaving you with none, it seems.

“It–” you struggle to find the words. What he does to you. He makes your blood turn hot and your skin prickle with cold. He makes excitement flutter in your belly, but it might be anger – indignation at his wild behaviour towards you.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” he croons and you grit your teeth at his incessant teasing. “Or are you waiting for me to take it from you? Make you sing instead?”

Yes.

“Make you cry out for me?” he smirks. “Or maybe just make you cry? Make you beg for it – for me. You’d be such a pretty sight with tears in your eyes.”

Your head buzzes and you don’t know whether he is complimenting you or dragging you through the mud. It feels so similar and it has your heart pounding and slick coating the fabric of your panties. You try to say his name, but no sound comes out.

Bucky understands, however, the moving of your lips, and wants to bite them. Those lips. Suck on them, have them tremble.

After all that disgusting distance between the two of you from the beginning, it would be deeply satisfying for him to tear you apart like that. Have you cry out for more of him. He would take his sweet, sweet time, too. If he can control himself, that is. But he wants to take his time – mess you up real good. Have you despise that distance between you two in the future, like he has always despised that distance.

The silence between the two of you is deafening and it makes you want to squirm. Closer or far away, you don’t know.

Bucky doesn’t feel like Bucky anymore. He feels like the devil taunting you with your deepest desire. But it’s him. He’s your desire. And you can’t tell if it has always been there or if he’s manipulating you into it. He could, you know he could. But you are starting to care less, the more he looks at you. You want him, need him. Your bones are crying out for him and you want to vocalise it.

You want him to drag it out of you, those cries and that horrible, terrible need.

You imagine it. His fingers, two of them, curled inside of you. And a drag. A curl. Another drag. Tearing out your soul, one moan at a time, as he peels that pleasure to the surface.

When the quiet between you becomes unbearable, you dare to nod, give him permission. But the thought of a nod crosses your eyes and Bucky drags your mouth to his before you can give your confirmation. It is hungry, but hesitant. His soft lips and his rough fingers curling against your scalp has you whimper softly, giving him permission with your pleasure. And he unleashes himself, groaning as his other hand drags your head even closer to him.

He nips and sucks and bites at your lips, not giving you any space to venture into the kiss yourself. But you whine softly and he complies by stroking his tongue into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls your body up against his. Your knees are weak and your hands clasp desperately at his forearms to make sure you don’t float away, away from him. From his promising kiss for more.

The ache between your legs is near painful and you squirm on your shaky legs, needing relief desperately. But you don’t want his mouth to stop doing that. Stop kissing you, Abusing your mouth with his own. Desperate, claiming, slow, aggressive – selfish almost.

“Fuck me to sleep, Bucky.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

…

“Ah–” you rasp, squeezing your eyes closed as pain, whining pain, pulsates through your core and thighs. Your limbs are trembling and your bare skin is covered in sweat. Your arms are aching from the stretch above your head and the grip Bucky has on your wrists feels like a faint bruise.

But you haven’t come yet.

His deft fingers do nothing more than graze over your clit and you shudder, the touch agonising. He’s been at this for what feels like hours – rubbing, stroking, circling, taunting – and you feel like you are going insane.

His deep voice growls lowly against your ear, “You want to come.”

A small part of you wants to slap him for that obvious statement, but that part of you is so small, so faint, you barely know her anymore. No, that other remaining part of you lets out a wanton whine. Pathetic. Completely desperate for anything. Your mouth opens to plead, but nothing else comes out than ragged breaths, your sweaty chest rising and falling as that sweet relief is withheld from you.

“You see,” Bucky whispers, his muscular body only in boxers now, and another press of his finger to your clit has you writhe and forget that he was talking to you in the first place, “I agree with you that I respond better to orders. But I have found myself to be better at giving them. Orders – And orgasms for that matter.”

You groan.

“But you wouldn’t know that,” he continues, “since you haven’t come yet, have you?”

Heaving a deep breath, you don’t deign to give him an answer.

“I think I want the first time you come for me to be on my tongue– ” he muses and your eyes fly open. “It’d be a shame if you passed out after the first one though. You have to stay awake for me, okay? I’m not done with you yet… Wouldn’t that be cruel – to just be done with you now?”

That drags you out of your stupor and you give him the biggest eyes you can muster, the most pathetic plea you can will into your body, “Please!”

“So polite,” he hums and presses a gentle kiss below your ear. But he decides he wants more and drags his open mouth over the skin of your neck, his tongue lashing over the heated skin before sinking his teeth into it. You sigh softly, as it seems any of his touches are a relief to the endless deprivation of him.

His mouth encircles your breast, the warmth making goosebumps prickle at your skin as your nipples stiffen. Bucky hums against your skin, his tongue circling around the taut bud before giving a playful bite to the soft flesh. His mouth dances further down and his hand slips from your wrists, his palm stroking down your arm and chest to follow his mouth. You know better than to move, your fingers digging into the pillow below your head instead. Focusing on your breathing, you try to get through the ache between your hips, that desperate throbbing for the man descending your body.

Both his palms press against the inside of your thighs and press them apart, the stretch in your muscles making you arch your back. You dare to look down and your jaw drops at the sight of his dark, ravenous eyes on your cunt. His hands holding you open like it’s nothing, like they are pressing to the table his meal is on.

It takes ages, his examination of your pleasure, and your hole pulsates in answer to his stare. Your breathing hurts from heaving the thick air and you can’t take it anymore. One hand reaches down and combs through Bucky’s full hair, through his locks and cupping his face. His eyes dart up to yours and you hold back from frowning at the daze he sprung out of.

“Bucky…” you breathe, a soft question for him to give you what you need. What you want.

He nuzzles into your palm with a grin and locks his again darkened gaze onto yours, before leaning down so agonisingly slowly. But a firework as large as the galaxy springs apart when his warm lips wrap around your clit and you could mistake it for an orgasm, only to find out that when Bucky sucks your clit into his mouth, you know for a fact a deadly orgasm is well on its way to shred you to pieces.

He hums lovingly against you and you let out a raspy moan. Your thighs get pushed to the mattress as Bucky wetly suckles at you, your chest rising quickly now as your orgasm crawls higher and higher in your body. And just when you think you’re there, Bucky retreats and drags his tongue between your folds, lapping up your slick from the source.

A strangled whine slips from your lips and Bucky groans in agreement, “Fuck, I know. But I haven’t tasted you yet. Let me just– ”

Another drag of his tongue has your shivering and your hand curls into a tight fist with his hair between it. He hums in delight at the tug at his scalp and buries his face deeper into your cunt, breathing harshly as he struggles to combine it with eating you whole. But the sounds alone, get you closer and closer and– “Bucky!”

“Go,” he hums against you, almost hurried. “Come on my tongue.”

An order indeed.

Body curling, your orgasm barrels into you like an avalanche. Endless weight presses on your nerves and you sob and moan and cry out, twitching against Bucky as his arms slip around your thighs to hold you to his mouth. Drinking your orgasm up and grinding his own hips into the mattress, Bucky devours the feeling of having you come under him. He had been teasing himself, never mind you. He wanted it to last, wanted you more pliant and bendy before he allowed you to come.

He crawls up your body, but you barely notice it, your orgasm still haunting you, racking through your spine and turning your blood to syrup. Bucky takes advantage of your open mouth and licks into it, teasing, smiling, taunting. For you to respond to him, prove him you’re still there.

So you move, languidly dragging your mouth against his as you tangle your hand into his hair again, pulling him closer. He groans into your mouth and a feeling of triumph swells in your chest at the way Bucky’s body melts to your side. Though the deception of his surrender might have been a distraction when you suddenly feel two fingers press into you, instantly curling against a swollen wall inside of you that has you gasp against his lips.

“Oh, fuck!” you moan and Bucky chuckles deeply above you, his fingers retreating before pressing into you again. His thumb teasingly darts over your swollen clit and lightning strikes your every nerve.

“You think too lowly of yourself to think I would be done with you,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving against the flushed skin of your cheek, your eyes having closed in overwhelming pleasure. His fingers move faster and twist into you, opening you up. Then then slow again, teasing – endlessly teasing. Then faster. Slower.

Unpredictable – and your body cannot keep up as it hauls you closer to your high before retreating like it burned itself. But to burn yourself on the devil – on Bucky. What a delight. You sigh deeply and let the bed swallow you whole as you buck up against Bucky’s hand. He presses soft kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you that you’re almost there and you have to let him make you come again.

“More,” you breathe out. “More, more, more…”

He obliges and presses into your spot so well, his thumb dragging two firm circles over your clit at the same time and you burn alive. You arch like a string pulls you to the ceiling as Bucky’s fingers fuck you through a numbing orgasm. From your crown, all the way down to your toes, fire bursts and surges and implodes. Your moans sound attractive to your own ears as you come, your voice breaking and filled with breaths, crying out to the heavens that the devil made you come again.

And the haze clears, the fog lifting as your eyes open to watch a heady Bucky lick appreciatively at his fingers, the gleam on them reflecting the minimum amount of light in the bedroom. Your hand slides from his hair to his chest and you press him to the mattress, his own eyes widening as you crawl over him.

You straddle his waist, hissing as your bare pussy settles over his angry, hard cock. The fabric is rough to your skin, but you can only focus on his face.

Bucky leans up on his forearms and raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t think so– ”

“Oh yes. You are going to let me use you and then,” you smirk, “you can make me pass out. Since you have failed to do so thus far…”

A slow smile spreads over his face, “So bossy…”

You answer with a grin and a slow grind over his weeping cock, making him stutter under you, “Let’s see how well you follow orders now, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[singharit]

Now, I’m not a fella to pass a quick judgement, but I’ve been around long enough to know you don’t hire a saint to catch a sinner. RED DEAD REDEMPTION II ► Good, Honest, Snake Oil

[cruelsister-moved2]

today (27 Jan) is International Holocaust Memorial Day, so I've compiled a list of charities you can donate to which help to preserve European Jewish culture as well as supporting living Jewish communities, especially in Eastern Europe, as a way to honour victims of the Holocaust both by preserving their memory and by supporting the European Jewish communities that the Nazis aimed to destroy.

- YIVO [Link] ; founded in Vilne, Lithuania in 1925 and now based in New York, is one of the largest organisations for the preservation and education of Yiddish, as well as hosting the largest archive of Eastern European Jewish materials (23 million items) - including many which were rescued from Nazi book-burning by Jewish resistance. It is the ONLY prewar Jewish library and archive to have survived the Holocaust.

- World Jewish Relief [Link], formed during the Holocaust by the UK Jewish community to aid the evacuation of German Jews. The majority of their modern day work focuses on aiding vulnerable Jewish communities in Eastern Europe. They also provide aid to refugees, disabled and elderly people, and respond to international disasters across the world.

- The Yiddish Book Centre [Link] hosts an online archive of hundreds of digitised Yiddish books (many with translations), as well as a video oral history archive with 1000+ Jewish people of all ages and backgrounds telling their own stories, many in Yiddish (with subtitles). They also train new Yiddish translators and run lectures, education programs, film screenings, music festivals, and the world's first Yiddish museum.

- The Together Plan [Link] supports post-Soviet Jewish communities, especially in Belarus due to the current instability there. As well as supporting Jewish communities with aid, education, and community building; they also record and translate Holocaust testimonies, preserve Jewish graveyards, and run education on Jewish Belarus.

- The European Jewish Cemeteries Initiative [Link] works to preserve and restore Jewish cemeteries, particularly in countries whose Jewish populations were decimated by the Holocaust, which left cemeteries to be vandalised and fall into decay. This is an important act in honouring the dignity of the dead, as well as witnessing and preserving the presence of lost European Jewish life.

If you have no money to spare, consider spending some time browsing the testimony and history hosted on YIVO and the Yiddish Book Centre as an act of memorial instead.

[arbitrarity]

Mina: I know this might sound so weird and impossible, and please don't laugh at us, but...

Van Helsing: oh, I'm sure that whatever you say will be nowhere near as weird and impossible as what I'm thinking about already

[exchanging notes]

Both: .....

[alligaytorswamp]

commissions open! (old post)

bust - 10-20 USD

half body - 20-35 USD

full body - 40-55 USD

backgrounds - 0-40 USD depending on complexity

additional characters - +100% of the price

payment via boosty (you can use paypal) you can contact me here, on DA, or discord (alligaytorswamp#6253)

more examples of my work, full t.o.s, guides for boosty and other important info can be found here by commissioning me, you confirm that you have read through the linked post and agreed to all of my conditions!

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[happyheidi]

Strawberry teapot & mug 🍓

(via)

[duramaters]

All Mine // B.H.

Synopsis: Your friendship with Billy is forever changed when you see him playing basketball with Steve Harrington.

Word Count: 1k

Your friendship with Billy Hargrove had developed slowly but surely. Initially you were totally put off by his obnoxious bad boy attitude but after finding him smoking in the school parking lot one afternoon when you should have both been in lessons, you had started to realise that not only was Billy a total charmer, he also had the potential to be a genuinely decent human being. It was a shame that he hid that side of himself from the rest of the world but you felt lucky to catch glimpses of his secret self. It became a regular thing that you would slip out of lessons to meet Billy at his Camaro to share a cigarette under the haze of the Indiana sun and it wasn’t long before you found yourself growing inexplicably fond of the curly haired rogue.

You slipped into the gymnasium and settled yourself on the highest seat on the bleachers, content to watch the boys at their basketball practice while you waited for Billy so you could go for a smoke. They were already well into a game by the time you had taken your seat and your eyes bugged when you realised it was a shirts vs skins game. And Billy was not on the side of the shirts.  He was all over poor Steve Harrington and you had to avert your gaze to the ceiling to avoid starting at Billy’s very short shorts. You’d rarely seen the man in anything other than his double denim and seeing him completely shirtless and sweaty was resulting in all sorts of new sensations. The coach called for a water break and Billy bounded up the bleachers, sitting heavily beside you in all his sweat soaked glory, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Your gaze was fixed at a point on the basketball court because you knew that if you turned to face Billy you’d be hypnotised by his dark eyelashes and plump lips and who knew what you’d say.

“What’s got you all googly eyed, princess?” Billy leaned into your shoulder, perhaps attempting to see the court from your perspective but enveloping you in a cloud of his scent as his movement stirred the air. Unfortunately Steve Harrington was right in your line of sight as Billy’s hair brushed across your cheek. “Oh ho ho, Harrington? Really!?” He sneered at you and you kept your mouth shut, trying to ignore the burning blush forcing its way up your neck and onto your cheeks. You could feel Billy staring at you, trying to work out what it was about Steve that had you all flustered. The seconds felt like hours with his beautiful eyes boring into your pink tinged skin until all of a sudden he jerked your face towards him with a solid grip on your chin.

“Tell me.” There was a fire in his voice that almost sounded like anger, but you knew Billy well enough to know that he wasn’t angry at you. It was probably just disgust at the thought that you were attracted to Steve Harrington of all people. You shook your head limply in his grip, casting your eyes downwards and trying to avoid staring at the white blonde hairs sprouting from his heavenly sun-kissed thighs.

“No, Billy, it’s not Harrington.” You muttered lowly, hoping that he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself. You feared that if you looked him in the eyes he’d see straight through you, but you did it anyway because you needed to remove his thighs from your field of vision, they were too damn distracting. As you looked up at him you could pinpoint the exact moment he realised that your wide eyed stare and fierce blush were because of him. Shit. A wolfish grin lit up his features and he slid even closer to you on the bench.

“It’s me? Oh babe.” You thought he was going to eat you alive the way his eyes were alight with mirth and hunger. “Meet me at the car in ten.” He smirked at you, shooting an audacious wink in your direction before re-joining his teammates. Your heart was stuttering so violently in your chest you thought you were about to pass out and you could still feel his lingering heat where his fingers had gripped your chin.

~~~

Ten minutes had passed and just as you were beginning to lose your nerve, Billy emerged from the gymnasium doors and sauntered his way across the parking lot. You knew his slow strut was for your benefit alone and you felt the hot blush, that had only just died down, already recolouring your cheeks. At least he had shown your poor weakened heart enough consideration to put on a shirt. You didn’t know if you could handle seeing anymore of his golden skin right now. He nodded his head towards the Camaro, blond curls swaying across his shoulders, and you opened the passenger door wordlessly, hoping that the slight trembling of your legs wasn’t too obvious. Billy ducked into the drivers seat with a greedy smirk spreading across his lips. You stared down at your legs, twisting your hands together in your lap. You had never been nervous with Billy before, how had seeing him shirtless had such a massive effect on you? It was because he knew about the effect he had on you, you reasoned. It gave him power, and it was that that made you nervous. Billy’s thumb skimmed your cheek before falling down to grasp your chin, lightly tugging your face towards him in a much gentler move than the one he had performed on the bleachers. You watched his tongue dart out of his godly mouth and moisten his lips and you felt yourself inching towards his body like he was a magnet and you would burn if you didn’t touch him.

“You’re mine.” He whispered as his lips met yours in a devastatingly delicious kiss. You felt his lips pull up into a smug grin as you whimpered into his mouth. “All mine.”

[banghwa]

ok this pride i do really need white gays to step up and out of their comfort zone and learn more about pinkwashing and gay imperialism. i need you to really try to understand why we say lgbt issues are ALWAYS about race and acknowledge the ways you use your identity as an opt-out of examining how you can reproduce racism islamophobia antisemitism colorism ableism etc etc. every year you say « don’t forget the ‘‘poc gays’’ that made this possible !! » now im asking you guys to actually do that. please ive had enough.

[ravipanikar]

HERO COMPLEX 9-1-1 | Season 5 Episode 17

[nasykuching]

I found you among the stars

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Stay Quiet

Part two to Quiet Down

Pairing: Roommmate!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: Bucky seems to have wormed himself inside of you(r life) and at the most inconvenient of times.

Warnings: 18+. Smut.

Words: 2,1OO

You might be dead.

If the lightheaded bliss buzzing through your body, your blackened vision and exhaustion, are anything to go by, you might just very well be dead. It’s the croak of your own moan that forms the only tether to reality and you only notice the incessant trembling of your body when you latch your fingers into Bucky’s shoulder even further.

A faint whisper echoes through your hollow head, “There you go. Gonna make this one last a little longer.”

And boy does he.

Shaking, gasping and clenching as large waves of your scolding blood pump through your veins with your raging orgasm, you feel like the feeling might never stop. Not when he’s still thrusting into you, even when his own arms are close to giving out. Not when your warmth clenches around him like an iron fist with every pulse of pleasure and Bucky is still going, his thick length dragging in and out of you until you’re about to pass out.

“Stay with me. Stay with me.” His voice barely breaks through his whisper, his mouth frantic against your cheek as it takes all of his power to keep going.

Which is why you don’t know from where he summons the actual fucking power to pry your thighs further apart and brace himself on his knees to hit you even deeper. Like the aura of him is punching into your ribcage as his sweaty chest becomes heavier and heavier on top of yours, not one part of you not touching.

You can’t stop the fresh wave of slick pooling around Bucky’s throbbing cock when you imagine the tension in his sculpted ass, his back and shoulders rippling with muscles as he rolls himself in and out of you like his life depends on it. In fact, you vaguely remember him telling you his life does depend on fucking you.

So you stay with him. Because that is the least you can give him in return for slipping into your room nearly every night without your other roommates finding out and managing to blow your mind twice as often. Desperately, your hands slide into his damp hair with trembling limbs as you heave for enough air to choke out his name, the light at the end of the tunnel you were just in finally coming into sight.

“ ‘S good, huh?” he grunts and attaches his forehead to yours. You can almost hear the lazy grin he gives you through his breathless words and you nod frantically, your fate of being thoroughly fucked into oblivion officially accepted by now.

“I know it’s a bit much, but I need another.” He sounds needy. He doesn’t often sound this needy. “Please, baby.”

Definitely needy.

But you couldn’t deny his request if your tried, because this might have been your second orgasm or your eighth, it doesn’t matter. You have yet to experience a feeling as good as being filled to the brim by Bucky, his sweat and breath and cologne all you can smell, his whispers and grunts all you can hear and him being all you can fucking feel.

Besides, the head of him striking and slamming and pounding into your spot over and over is already making you see stars behind your lids and you’re not sure you could find it in yourself to even ask him to stop.

But he slows down. His thrusts become hesitant and you can feel Bucky losing focus, so you will your eyes to pry open, looking at a flushed soldier who’s determination is faltering. And just as you’re about to ask him if he’s okay, you hear your name coming from the hallway.

Carol.

But for the life of you, you can’t seem to figure out what she’s asking from you and the cocky head tilt from the man above you –still inside you– as he realises your struggle to comprehend anything other than his cock still buried to the very hilt and the stretch of him in your abused pussy, isn’t helping your ability to focus at all.

“Did you just wake up, or something?” You finally piece the words together and you swallow hard, opening your mouth to let your brain improvise an answer. But just as you’re about to speak, Bucky gives one delicious roll of his hips into you, eyes shimmering with amusement as he watches you choke on a moan.

“Whatdoyouwant?” You don’t mean to sound snappy, but the man slowly retreating from you again just seems to bring that out in you – and you swear it drives him to push you further.

“Jeez, didn’t realise you’re not a morning person…” Is it morning already? “Was just wondering if you wanted to go for a walk.”

Another thrust has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and her question flies out of your head instantly. Throbbing around Bucky as he takes in your face while you try to remember her words, he buries his own face into your neck, a soft and deep chuckle vibrating against your skin as he moves inside of you again slowly. Dick.

“W-what?” you manage to ask, not sure why, since you want the conversation to stop.

“Girl, what are you doing?!”

You start to panic. But Bucky doesn’t seem to even notice anything else anymore since he has resorted to rolling his hips into you again, hitting your spot with every push as his lower arms lock in around your head to keep balance. He should have known he’d get lost in the game of teasing you.

“Bucky, shit,” you hiss, trying to stay alert, but the unfurling pleasure building up inside of you after the very brief break is coming back to you tenfold.

“I need to sleep some more,” you groan to Carol, trying to play off your pleasure as fatigue and Bucky’s warm chuckle creates a shudder down your spine.

So he is listening…

“Careful, gorgeous. Stay quiet,” Bucky warns lowly and gives one particularly long thrust before burying himself into you for a lengthy, warm second. As you are about to release the unstoppable moan that he crushes out of you, his warm hand clasps over your mouth to stop it from happening.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you hear Carol’s hesitant voice on the other side of your door and you briefly think she might have figured it out. Not that either you or Bucky could give a fuck at the moment, but you rather it be private for a little while longer.

“Fucking hell, Carol,” Bucky grumbles to you quietly. “Leave me and my girl alone, for God’s sake.”

His girl?

That’s when his eyes fall on you and he removes his hand slowly, amusement back in his eyes as he watches your features contort with pleasure. He can tell it takes all of your energy to stay engaged in the conversation and it drives him to keep going. The hand moves from your mouth, drags down your sweaty chest, all the way down to connect with your pulsing clit where he drags two calloused fingers over the little button.

Smirking down at you with shimmering eyes as he drags his tongue over his lower lip, he raises his brows at your pending answer, his voice a soft murmur “Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart, but Carol is waiting for an answer.”

“Yes!” you sputter. “I’ll talk to you later!”

It stays quiet for a while, hearing your heart pound against your flushed skin as even Bucky seems to nearly come to a halt. But when you hear Carol’s footsteps disappear with a few discontented grumbles, both you and Bucky let out a sigh of relief. That’s when soft, appreciative kisses are pressed all over your heated face by Bucky.

“Good job. Good girl,” he praises and keeps himself buried into you as his fingers drag and roll over your sensitive clit. The warmth you feel from his praises spreads a little further than just between your legs, but you’re far too occupied to think of that right now.

You let out a croaked whine at the stimulation and tighten your thighs around his hips, causing Bucky to shush you gently, his fingers not slowing down and still rubbing steady circles. The slow, yet steady pace makes a bubble of pleasure tighten in your abdomen and your breathing becomes heavy again.

“Deep breaths. I want you to milk my cock, okay? Want to come deep in your cunt and I want you to milk me for all that I have, yeah?” He’s breathless, the way he’s bottomed out inside of you so far as you quiver and clench around him tightly, making it hard for him to hold out much longer. But he wants to – hold out. Hasn’t made you come enough times.

You’re lucky by now your body is trained to obey him, because you are not processing his words in your head anymore, the dull roar of your long awaited high making your brain go fuzzy. A metal thumb traces up the centre of your throat until it tips your chin up and you’re forced to open your eyes and connect them with Bucky’s.

“You there, gorgeous?” There is only a brief hint of mockery lacing his sweet tone and you let out a soft whine, bucking your hips against him softly as your glassy eyes flutter up at him. “Yeah, there you are. All sweet and soft for me. All dumb and pretty when my cock is in your belly, aren’t you?”

Another soft whimper spills from your lips and the tightening in your body becomes nearly unbearable, your skin burning with heat and your limbs feeling numb, yet stiff with trembles. A soft peck to your cheek. Other cheek. Your lips, where you open up for him and he sweeps his tongue into your mouth with a deep, appreciative hum. Because he’s right, he’s right in your belly and it’s tightening with every draw of his skilled fingers and every rasp of his voice drawling out the filthiest words.

A deep moan rumbles through your chest and you can’t take it anymore, the fullness of him still buried inside of you even without the friction as he rolls his fingers over your clit and gradually picks up his steady pace. You tug at his hair, tightening around him and deciding to stop fighting to utter another word. If he wants you to ask permission, he shouldn’t have fucked you stupid.

So you let go.

Burning heat unfurls from between your legs and spreads all throughout your body, trembles and twitches making you convulse around him and head thrown back as you force out the cry that’s clawing up your throat. The groan of relief when you reach the very tip of your orgasm, has Bucky thrusting again, his fingers speeding up to make you pulsate and spasm around him wildly, clutching onto him for dear life as he somehow manages to make you drift through your orgasm for what feels like an hour.

That’s when Bucky finally allows himself to crash and he spills inside you with a deep growl, pressing his forehead to your chest as hot breaths glide over your sweaty, cooling skin. Carefully fucking his spent into you until he’s satisfied, he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss, wincing when you flinch slightly and rolling over to your side.

Panting up at the ceiling as both of you come down from hours upon hours of filthy sex, your frazzled brain gradually becomes clearer. A warm, clammy hand strokes your hair from you forehead and you huff with a smile, feeling his burning gaze on you.

“House is clear. We can take a shower,” he mumbles softly and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I won’t be able to walk for five to seven business days, so I’d have to pass,” you breathe out, shivering as the sweat dries on your skin.

Bucky chuckles deeply and nods slowly. “I’ll carry you and get you some fresh sheets while you sit in the shower, okay?”

So you let him, scooping you up in his arms and letting the shower get to a nice temperature before he gently sits you down below it. As he grabs the towels for you to use after, you let a lazy smile crawl over your face.

“Your girl, huh?” you tease and you can barely see him smile through the condensation on the glass walls of the shower.

“I was hoping you didn’t hear that,” he grumbles, before peeking into the shower with a hint of delight in his eyes. “Didn’t fuck you stupid enough, apparently.”

“I was joking, Buck.” You wave him off, dragging the loofah over your sensitive skin.

“I wasn’t.”

[cata-strophes]

more sleep deprived colorized digitalized college notes doodles, this time techi ^-^