“I’d hit that.” “You… you don’t even know them though??”
“Oh come on, everyone has a list of celebrities they’d totally have sex with if they had a chance.” “Haha yeah ok” *internally* what
"Ya so like for the past few years I’ve felt zero attraction to people I wasn’t friends with first?? Lol what’s up with that”
Why did you have to have sex with them?? Couldn’t you just hold it?? Like pee??
“You’ll meet someone who makes you feel like that someday, don’t worry” “……sounds fake but ok”
“Sex is an important part of a relationship! Everyone has sexual needs!” “….sounds fake but ok”
“Dude that girl is so hot” “I know right?? Look at her fucking eyeliner. Goals. The fuck.” “No I meant like… look at that ass” “Are we looking at the same person are you really focussing on her ass look at how visually appealing her outfit is and dont you dare fuckin tell me that eyeliner isnt fierce as hell”
“Aesthetic attraction and sexual attraction are two different things” *puzzle pieces vERY RAPIDLY FALLING INTO PLACE*
*staring at the ceiling at two-thirty in the morning* i could die a virgin and i would regret absolutely nothing
“What’s your ideal girl like?” “Uh… my best friend?” “Oh cute, you want your girlfriend to be the one who knows you best!” “No I meant I am literally only attracted to my best friend she is my ideal girl please help I am dying”
“We’ve been dating for six months and we still haven’t had sex!!” “Have you marathoned Star Wars together yet?” “Yeah we did that like two weeks ago” “Well what more do you want”
*thinking about an attractive woman* *dissecting my entire personality and sexuality to figure out why I’m attracted to her this time* is it the muscles. Oh my god is this a sex thing. Oh my god what the hell is this. Oh my god what the fuck is the wtf the fuck the fUCK
*Next day* Zarya could punch me in the face while eating me out and I’d let her but only because she’s a fictional character and therefore could literally never do that
*writing fanfic* ONLY CLOSE FRIENDS HAVE SEX BC ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE MAKES SENSE TO ME
(why is that tho. maybe i should look into that *doesnt look into it*)
“What do you find most attractive in a girl?” “Gotta love those strong emotional bonds” “No I meant like what’s a turn-on for you?” “DID I McFUCKING STUTTER”
*staring at the ceiling at two-thirty in the morning again* sexual attraction should be added to the cryptid wikia
“Yeah sex sounds like a great stress reliever and a nice way to strengthen the bonds between you and your partner(s)” “Well there’s more to it than that…” *The Arctic Monkey’s Do I Wanna Know starts playing in my head* “Haha ok buddy”
"There’s more to being ace than just not being interested in having sex or not feeling sexual attraction. In fact there’s a whole spectrum. You may even feel sexual attraction sometimes but still be ace. You can also be gay and ace at the same time.” “…bro.” “Also it’s totally normal.” *sobbing* “…bro. Bro there are words for it there’s an entire list oh my god-”
Boy caught in cycle of demonizing women and putting them on a pedestal. He is unable to keep meaningful relationships because of his inability to separate fantasy from reality and suffers for it.
Girl realizing she lives in a world where sex and romanticizing everything is seen is ideal. She thinks she's okay with that and okay with being objectified because she holds some power in her own sexuality and attractiveness, but ultimately breaks under the fear of constantly and truly being alone.
Joan of Arc was not stuck at the cross-roads, either by rejecting all the paths like Tolstoy, or by accepting them all like Nietzsche. She chose a path, and went down it like a thunderbolt. Yet Joan, when I came to think of her, had in her all that was true either in Tolstoy or Nietzsche, all that was even tolerable in either of them. I thought of all that is noble in Tolstoy, the pleasure in plain things, especially in plain pity, the actualities of the earth, the reverence for the poor, the dignity of the bowed back. Joan of Arc had all that and with this great addition, that she endured poverty as well as admiring it; whereas Tolstoy is only a typical aristocrat trying to find out its secret. And then I thought of all that was brave and proud and pathetic in poor Nietzsche, and his mutiny against the emptiness and timidity of our time. I thought of his cry for the ecstatic equilibrium of danger, his hunger for the rush of great horses, his cry to arms. Well, Joan of Arc had all that, and again with this difference, that she did not praise fighting, but fought. We KNOW that she was not afraid of an army, while Nietzsche, for all we know, was afraid of a cow. Tolstoy only praised the peasant; she was the peasant. Nietzsche only praised the warrior; she was the warrior. She beat them both at their own antagonistic ideals; she was more gentle than the one, more violent than the other. Yet she was a perfectly practical person who did something, while they are wild speculators who do nothing. It was impossible that the thought should not cross my mind that she and her faith had perhaps some secret of moral unity and utility that has been lost. And with that thought came a larger one, and the colossal figure of her Master had also crossed the theatre of my thoughts.
Ever think about the fact that when Konan died she was literally erased from the whole narrative? She wasn’t brought back by Edo Tensei like the other members of Akatsuki, in fact she wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the 4th war. Obito doesn’t mention her, neither does Zetsu, Madara doesn’t ask, Naruto doesn’t think about her at any time, not even Nagato takes a second to angst about her. In fact it’s possible Naruto doesn’t even know when, where, and how she died. It’s possible he doesn’t know she died at all. I doubt Nagato or any of the other reanimated Akatsuki members knew, since they were all already dead when it happened and no one mentioned anything about her. It’s possible no one knows about the sacrifice she made, about the ideals she died defending, her legacy. No one remembers. No one cared. It’s possible no one even retrieved her corpse, she decomposed at the pitch dark bottom of the sea as if she were nothing but garbage. After being denied a family, a happy childhood, a healthy relationship, a stable adolescence and adulthood. After being denied so many things her whole life she was also even denied a proper burial alongside her childhood friends. She died like an animal. Worse than an animal. She was completely deleted from the narrative, as if her character had been completely useless and her presence had never affected anything in the story, as if she had been nothing but a cheap plot device that lost it’s purpose after Nagato had a change of heart. Every male character that died in the series, no matter how important or unimportant they were to the plot, left a legacy and were remembered after they died. Why couldn’t Konan get the same respect and honor? Why did the story continue on as if she had never existed?
This happened about a year ago, in my senior year of college. I lived in a residential college on campus, which basically is just a dorm with the option of educational programs being held there. My suite in this building was set up as a pair of two-bed rooms, connected by a small bathroom that the four people shared. In our particular suite, there were only three of us, as our suitemate had a private room. A small detail, but it will become important later.
Now this suitemate, who I will call Hannah, could only be described as one of those new-age hippies. Aggressively vegan, tapestries pinned over every open inch of the walls, candles everywhere, lots of imagery taken from India and surrounding countries, the whole works. And she smoked a lot of pot.
Normally, this wouldn’t be any of my business. I don’t care what you do with your free time, as long as you’re being safe and can keep it away from me, as I was job-searching and didn’t want anything in my system. I made that abundantly clear, as my roommate also smoked, and was polite enough to take it off campus and keep her stash in her car.
Hannah…not so much. She had a habit of smoking in the room, and since she lived alone, she had no one to witness her blowing the smoke out the window. Several of us knew she was doing it, but we lived near the top of the building, so it wasn’t going to float up into someone’s window or anything. If she got caught, we could act surprised, and it would be on her head for being reckless.
She wasn’t an ideal suitemate by any means, on top of this. She played her music loud, and wrecked the bathroom on a weekly basis, and I had woken up to her having loud shower sex in that shared bathroom multiple times. I scrubbed down the bathroom every time because I didn’t want to stand in whatever they left behind, but by the time the real incident occurred, my patience was wearing thin.
The final straw came when a weird smell started pouring in under the bathroom door. I pulled my roommate in with me, and she agreed that it was pot, and a lot of it. I went out of the room, and sure enough, the hall was also filling with a thick cloud of skunk and armpit. I knew my RA was doing a program that involved the police, so I went downstairs to find the RA, told her what was going on, and led her and the police officer she took with her up to my room. I let the officer into my bathroom, and the smell when I opened the door hit everyone like a slap to the face.
As it turns out, she was holding a little party, so not only did she get arrested, but so did 4 of her buddies. She was taken to court, put on probation for 2 years, and given community service. The police officer also told me that if she did or said anything to get back at me, she would go to jail.
She later violated her parole with another charge of the same thing, and that was the last time I saw her.
This was inspired by an image I saw on @thranduilsperkybutt co-written by @melconnor2007 and I hope to get a goodish reaction from people, I will post the second part I have written which is pretty much just SMUT!!!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW content, masturbation, cliffhanger, angst?, underwear I guess. If I find out you are under 18, you will be blocked!
Bucky could smell her heat. She had rushed out of the kitchen around breakfast because something had triggered her blood boiling heat. And of course, with his feelings for Y/N, he couldn’t stave off the rut that he had been thrown into. He knew he shouldn’t, but he followed after her. Using her addictive Omega scent to guide him.
She was his ideal Omega. Small, but not weak. Assertive, but not bitchy. And her scent drove him crazy even when she wasn’t in heat. Black currant vanilla. So sweet that it was almost too much, but in the most amazing way.
He was lost in thought when her smell got stronger, but she wasn’t in the hallway. Looking down he saw her slippers, then at the next doorway was her sleep shirt. The Alpha ran to the article and picked it up, stuffing the material into his nose. He felt his blood rush south. He would have left for his room, but when he reached the end of the hall he saw that she had shed more clothes. Her sleep shorts were at the end of that hall, bringing him dangerously close to the Omega he so desperately desired. Looking down the last hall, with the door to her room, was her panties. His ears picked up her moans of pain and need. The Alpha wanted to comfort her, it was his nature.
His feet moved on there own accord, taking him slowly towards her room. Her moans getting louder, her scent getting stronger his eyes were fixed on the panties left forgotten on the floor, causing a small moan to escape his lips. He could feel the bulge in his pants straining for release, arriving at her door on silent feet. His senses were on fire, being taken over by her scent and sweet noises, breathing heavily like he had just run a mile.
Checking over his shoulder to make sure that the coast was clear, he bends down slowly, taking her pants in his hands he brings them to his nose immediately inhaling the scent of her heat. A loud growl leaves his throat as he is engulfed by her scent, completely losing himself in the intoxicating aroma. His back gently hits the door, as his hand slides down into his sweat pants. His cock desperate to be buried in the Omega just behind the door, he wants to feel her walls squeezing him tightly, he wants to be responsible for her noises, those whimpers and moans sounding like a goddess singing.
He wants to shout his love for her, and to claim her as his own. He uses all his strength to control his instincts and relishes in the scent under his nose. He decides that this is the best he can get, knowing that he would never be able to live with himself if he forced himself onto her without clear permission. His hand wraps around his cock giving him the friction he needs, and a loud moan leaves his lips. Holding her panties to his nose his hand works quickly, unaware the noises of the Omega in the room behind him had stopped. The door opened and he fell over, his top half entering the delicious smelling room. His hand stops, panties still pressed to his nose, eyes wide as he looks into the eyes of the omega of his dreams. Into the eyes of Y/N.
“Ideally, she would accept the marriage proposal of a member of the Royal
Family who would renounce his throne for her. Since this was hardly
likely, she concentrated on an alternate plan: getting work.” – Carrie Fisher, Postcards From The Edge
Thank you so much for the request, I think that all of BTS would love the girl for who they are, despite their weight, so I’m gonna do you a small scenario with each member! I hope that’s okay, I just don’t want it to be repetitive.
Whilst Namjoon was showering, you opened your silk robe to reveal the lingerie you had gotten not long ago. A sigh left your parted lips as you looked at your body. You had always hated your body, always been on the ‘thick’ side rather than super skinny like all those beautiful girl idols. As soon as you heard Namjoon open the bathroom door you quickly closed your robe and climbed into bed under the covers.