#'do i act like this? has this happened to me? is there a way i'm like this that i didn't realize before? what's a different way of

[ms-demeanor]

hi, hopefully this isnt a stupid question -- this is only my second election i'm voting in, and i'm a little confused about results. is it actually confirmed that trump has won, or is it just almost certain based on the counted votes? bc i know that provisional ballots (like mine) probably arent immediately counted, and there was that thing about votes needing to be verified because of signatures, plus to my knowledge the electoral college doesnt vote til december? i'm probably just grasping at an infinitesimal chance of things not being shit, but also i do actually want to understand and google is not helping :( if you can't explain no worries, you just seem to be knowledgable & willing to answer questions haha

This is absolutely not a stupid question.

So everything is currently pointing at what is most likely, not at what is 100% certain, but it's like 99% certain. There are still votes being counted, but in the states where the election has been called it has been called either because enough of the ballots have been counted that the remaining count wouldn't change the results, or that the area is historically so strongly in favor of one party that it's exceptionally unlikely that they'd flip the other way (for example, they're still counting california's ballots but you're more likely to get struck by lightning five times today than california is to flip red in this election). The places that have not yet been called do not have enough electoral votes for Harris to win the election.

The electoral college is exceedingly unlikely to flip their votes against the state/district vote; "Faithless electors" is the term for members of the electoral college who would vote against the vote they are committed to for their region. It was something discussed in both the 2016 election and the 2020 election and flipping the electoral college without winning the election was the motivation behind J6. As shitty and bullshit as I think the electoral college is, if you're going to have one and you're going to have the rule of law, you can't hope for faithless electors because what you're hoping for at that point is that the people representing you are acting directly against the choice of the voters.

I want you to listen to me. I have been voting in presidential elections since 2004. Presidential elections always suck. Who the president is does matter, and does impact your life, but you genuinely do not have a ton of influence over that so you can't let it throw you into despair and inaction, because we should be active and political and protesting the wrongs of the world even if your favored political party wins. Vote in local elections, work with your local community, and if your local community sucks too, work with online communities to both give and get support.

Whenever something like this happens, people pass around the Mr. Rogers quote about looking to the helpers. I like that quote. I think it's good, I think it's hopeful, I think it helps! But I also think that sometimes it's even more effective if you look for how to help. Who are you the most scared for after this election? Who are you worried about in your community or among your friends? What can you do that might make their life easier? What can you do to protect people like that in your community? What don't you know that might make you better prepared to help them in the future?

One thing that I think is a fantastic way to prepare to help is to either begin or continue learning a language that you don't know. I am working hard on my Spanish because I live in California and there are a ton of Spanish speakers here who I might be able to help. Is it directly aiding anyone right at this second that I'm practicing conjugation? No. But it might help someone who is being harassed by a cop, or who is unhoused and needs help, or who is being abused by an employer at some point in the future, and I can get myself ready to help. Learn how to use naloxone and pick up up an inhaler; you might not need it now, but it'll make you ready to help someone who does need it. Order free covid tests every chance you get, even if you don't need them, because then you can give them out to people who do need them. Plan B has a multi-year shelf life. Pick some up so that you've got some on hand if someone needs it.

Maybe there's nothing you can do right at this exact second (though if you are able to donate to gender affirmation fundraisers, border kindness, abortion funds, bail funds, etc., you can absolutely do that), but you can get ready to help someone who will need you someday.

[ot3]

top 10 pokemon that are girls

'gender'.... much like 'animals' this is a concept from our world that has made itself present in the pokemon franchise. all pokemon began having genders (except for the ones that don't) in the second generation of games, in order to facilitate the pokemon breeding mechanic which has become a staple of the main series

you may think this means the issue of which pokemon are girls and which ones aren't is already settled. but do we really trust game freak to be the deciding voices on this one? i certainly don't. so here's a nonexhaustive look at some pokemon that are doing their best to be role models for young women everywhere who have been picking up and enjoying these games for decades.

#10 - NIDORAN♀

Not only is Nidoran♀ canonically a girl, she is the first pokemon to be canonically a girl as the gender distinction between Nidoran types predates the introduction of gen 2's breeding system that gendered all pokemon. she broke the glass ceiling, and for this we salute her.

#9 - KANGASKHAN

Both culturally and in media single mothers are subject to a lot of scrutiny and scorn, but kangaskhan breaks the mold. powerful, responsible, yet loving and joy-filled. the look on her baby's face tells us all we need to know; she holds on tight to the pouch, clinging to the safety she knows her mother can give her, but gazes awestruck and wide-eyed at the world around her, knowing its wonders will be there waiting for her as soon as she feels ready for it.

#8 - CELESTEELA

Technically, celesteela's gender is 'unknown', but it's obvious that celesteela represents what life can look like for a woman who truly has it all. As one of the largest and heaviest pokemon ever discovered, she's not afraid to take up space. she doesn't feel the need to soften herself to be more accepted by the world around her, but she's also comfortable enough with her feminine side to let it shine through where and when she wants. nobody tells her how to live her life but her and also she has big lazers

#7 - MISMAGIUS

Well she's not called MISTER magius now, is she?

#6 - LYCANROC

Perfect embodiment of the wolfgirl you knew (or, perhaps were?) in middleschool. There are many doglike/canine pokemon in the dex, but something about lycanroc's exaggerated unkempt mane and lanky, awkward posture evokes the physicality of a teenager who exists as a beast beyond the boundaries of her own body.

#5 - CHIKORITA

This saultry little binch...

#4 - RAYQUAZA

It's an uncomfortable truth in life that many women find themselves in the position of needing to play the mediator in order to stop the people around them from acting in destructive or harmful ways. But just because mediating conflict can be a difficult and unfair position to be put into, that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Rayquaza just goes to show us all everywhere how a real woman can still thrive under these circumstances, doing her best to build a more peaceful world while not letting that push her into the shadows or make her take a back seat in her own life. she is a community leader and an innovator.

#3 - SALAZZLE

She's the archetypal femme fatale. A dominatrix. A baddie. Does she make me uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely. But I'm not a furry so I'm not really the target audience of what's happening here.

#2 - SLAKING

I know so many butches who look exactly like her. you love to see it.

#1 - MEWTWO

as one feminist philosopher has said: "I see now that the circumstances of one's birth is irrelevant, it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

I think any woman living in a patriarchal society can sympathize with mewtwo's story. enraged at being treated like the property of the people who created her rather than her own fully realized person, she goes on a rampage where it quickly becomes obvious that she is even more powerful than that what she was originally created in the image of. Although this takes her down a dark path, she eventually learns to self-actualize by working on herself rather than pointlessly lashing out at people who had nothing to do with hurting her. it's empowering stuff. doubly empowering because she killed all those clowns who DID hurt her

now, of course, there are plenty more pokemon that are girls than just what i've listed here today. but i hope youve learned a little something from this.

[vintagegeekculture]

I remember a friend of mine had some LPs that were Star Wars themed disco albums, and it brought back a very weird memory from back in the 70s (yes, I'm old!) of listening to a Star Wars disco mashup on the radio. What was all that about? I also remember something like that for Close Encounters, too.

You remember correctly, and this went on for a long while. In 1983, disk jockeys around the country played a record that involved an Ewok rapping the plot of Return of the Jedi in Ewokese. This made it to #60 in the Billboard Top 100.

This is hard to explain to people who weren’t there….but in the wake of Star Wars in the late 70s and early 80s, scifi was so beloved and mainstream that the orchestral music for nerdy scifi and fantasy movies about outer space were remixed and sampled into Giorgio Moroder-esque Italo-Disco dance numbers. And the most astonishing thing is, instead of being consigned to convention acts the way “horse famous” Brony dubstep acts are, this received national airplay on the radio, reached the pop music charts, and were played in discotheques. And incredibly, this continued for years and expanded from Star Wars into Star Trek, Wizard of Oz, Black Hole, Close Encounters….

All of this was the work of one specific person: Meco (or Dominico Monardo). The term “ahead of their time” is thrown around a lot, but Meco really was: a combination producer-songwriter and Italo-Disco pioneer in the style of Giorgio Moroder, he did several things that are now absolutely standard: he used remixes and sampling before hiphop made that standard for musicians, he wrote “fandom music” on a Moog synthesizer decades before Bronies turned their conventions into cringey dubstep concerts with songs like “Everypony Dance Now.”

It's stunning to me that Meco has not been rediscovered, considering every single trend in the culture essentially went his way.

The most startling thing about Meco’s Star Wars disco album, the one that got the ball rolling on this trend, is this: I always assumed it was some kind of cash in created by a record label mandate, a label executive’s completely cynical choice to hop on a hot new trend. That isn’t a crazy thing to think at all, since Star Wars is and always has been the most merchandized and sold out scifi property ever. But it wasn’t! You see, it was all the product of a single man’s specific vision: Meco had to convince his record label to make the record because they were skeptical.

When Meco went to see Star Wars in 1977 on Opening Day (what an experience that must have been) with his friend and fellow Italian chest hair/gold medallion enthusiast Tony Bongiovi, he was already an experienced producer-songwriter who had worked with Gloria Gaynor, Diana Ross, and formed DCA, the Disco Corporation of America. If you've ever listened to Diana Ross's "I'm Coming Out," Meco actually played the trombone solo in that song. Seeing the Star Wars movie for the first time, though Meco thought the movie was nothing short of a religious experience. Originally, he wanted to do Star Wars music as a b-side on a Gloria Gaynor album, but expanded the idea into an entire album.

In Meco’s own words:

"When I think about what I did, nobody came to me, nobody said 'Meco, why don't you do this.' Nobody says 'Here's some money go make a record of this movie.' It was just my own... It was magical, it was just out of this world when all that happened."

Not only did this album hit platinum, not only did it actually outsell the Star Wars soundtrack, his remix of the Star Wars theme also went to #1 in the charts. It’s actually the best selling instrumental single of all time. A record, that, incidentally, it holds to this day.

Dick Clark, host of American Bandstand, had this to say about Meco:

"In 1977, Meco Monardo accomplished something no one else has ever done to the best of my knowledge. He was the first one in history to out-sell the soundtrack of a motion picture with his own distinctive version of a film's music. The music was totally danceable, and broke new ground. It's no wonder the STAR WARS THEME went to # 1. I loved his treatment of music from THE WIZARD OF OZ. Again, Meco created something innovative. The fun and the excitement gave a whole new feel to that totally familiar and well-loved music."

Like a lot of studio producers, Meco had an insane work ethic and hit when the iron was hot: he did an album about Close Encounters that exact same year, but also did a Star Wars Christmas Album, one of the strangest pieces of Star Wars kitsch around.

One of the most interesting things about the Star Wars Christmas album is that one of the songs, “R2D2’s Wish You a Merry Christmas” is the first professional vocals by John Bon Jovi, who was Meco’s friend Tony Bongiovi’s seventeen year old younger cousin (he was initially known as John Bongiovi). It's incredible to hear a squeaky voiced teen Bon Jovi on a kitsch album about a robot Christmas.

1978-1979 was really his best year. Meco made an Italo-Disco remix album entirely devoted to Superman, and at this point, Meco had the pull to get access to John Williams's sheet music for the score before the music even came out. In my personal opinion it's the best of them because he has to recreate it entirely with his own instruments, leading to a very unique sound.

He also did an album based on the Wizard of Oz:

And a combination album of Star Trek/Black Hole. It's probably the earliest remixing date of Goldsmith pieces of music: the Motion Picture Theme (which is now associated with the Next Generation - hearing it done in Italodisco is uncanny) and the Klingon Theme:

Incidentally, I think the design here of the Meco Enterprise, which had to be modified for legal reasons, would make a wonderful canon starship if anyone wants to be inspired by it. It reminds me of the same concept that would be used in the very next film for the Reliant-class of ships.

Meco eventually retired from music in 1985, but unfortunately he is no longer with us, as he passed into the next dimension in 2023. I think he showed us that creativity is often about transformation, and was inspired to make his art by a legitimate awe of space, the cosmos, and human imagination that the scifi movies of the 1970s and 80s provoke.

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[scuderiahalf]

(almost) one year with you — c.sainz

pairing. carlos sainz x strategist!norris!fem!reader

summary. your boyfriend is usually so intelligent. when he makes one of the stupidest decisions of his life to break up with you, his best friend (and your idiot brother) decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.3k, 18+

warnings. breakups = makeup sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, reader is kind of a bitch but carlos is into it

masterlist.

.

"I'm going to kick the door open."

"Please, do not do that," Carlos says from behind you.

"You think I can't?"

Smartly, Carlos chooses not to voice any further opinions.

You kick the door, more out of frustration than an actual attempt to break it open.

"I'm going to murder you when I get out of here, Lando!" you shout against the door, not really caring if your idiot brother has hung around to hear the very real threat.

You may not actually kill him (you're still debating it) but you will definitely hit him. At least five times. Maybe more. And he's not getting any of your late-night stress-baked cookies for several months. Asshole.

You kick the door again, harder. The wood bends near the bottom from the impact, rattling in the doorframe but otherwise unmoving. Your groan turns into a yell of frustration, punctuated by you hitting the still closed door with both hands. You seriously cannot believe Lando would do this.

"Are you finished?"

Carlos sounds almost amused.

If he hadn't been literally thrown into the room by not just Lando but Max and Alex as well, you might think he's in on this whole scheme. Instead, you just glare at him, irritated that he's so calm while you're both being held against your will.

"Is being made to be near me that horrible?" Carlos says.

"Oh, fuck off."

"You are acting as if they will not have to let us out eventually."

"How long is that going to take? Huh? I don't want to be locked in here for hours. It's actually FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

You're shouting at the door again, hoping your dumbass brother and his stupid fucking friends can hear.

They all better be prepared for the consequences. There's no one better at holding a grudge than you.

You never should have trusted Lando when he had insisted you come to Charles Leclerc’s dumb yacht party. He never wants to be seen in public with you much less all but beg you to attend a party with all his friends who are so much cooler than you because he's an F1 driver and all his friends are, too, and you're just a strategist.

(You never thought that being a trackside strategist at Scuderia Ferrari would be preceded by "just" as though it isn't an impressive feat but with a brother like Lando Norris, nothing you do ever really seems to measure up. You're the reason Lando ever got into racing or F1 in the first place. So really, this is your own fault.)

You give up harassing the door (it locks from the inside so there must be something blocking it in the hallway) and start searching the room for another way out. It's a bedroom, and you're choosing to assume that it just happened to be the easiest place to trap you both and not a purposeful nudge to something untoward. Lando isn't that crude. You think.

After this little stunt, you don't think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You start checking all the drawers to see if there's anything useful. You don't actually know what you're looking for. Maybe like a fire axe or a hand saw so you can brute force your way out of here.

"We could talk," Carlos proposes.

"And give Lando what he wants? No, thank you."

"You are so proud. Can we not talk this out?"

"What's there to talk out, Carlos? You dumped me, remember?"

That shuts him up.

You refuse to look at him. Even with your back to him as you search through a completely empty dresser, you can feel the look on his face. Full lips pouting, big brown cow eyes all sad and pitiful. You'd fold like a cheap suit if you saw his pretty eyes right now and you're trying really hard to stay strong and hang onto your anger so you won't give in.

There's nothing in any of the dresser drawers. The nightstands are fruitless, too. The wardrobe houses only empty hangers, and not even the cheap wire ones that could be bent into something useful like a weapon to kill yourself with if things get any more tense in this tiny room.

"I regret it," he says.

You close the wardrobe with a heavy breath.

"I regretted it as soon as I said we should end it."

"Cry me a river, Sainz. Build a bridge. Get over it. You don't get to call me ‘nothing but a distraction’ then tell me you regret it and expect me to forgive you just like that—fuck this. I'm going to swim to shore."

You yank the balcony door open and climb up onto one of the chairs so you can get over the railing.

"Y/N!" Carlos curses in Spanish, scrambles after you and gets an arm around you before you can actually step up onto the railing. "What are you doing?!"

"I just said! I'm going to swim to shore. Let me go!"

Carlos picks you up like a purse dog and carries you back into the room. He stands in front of the balcony door after setting you down, blocking your only escape route.

"You cannot swim to shore. We are miles out of sea!"

"If it gets me out of this room, I'd do it!"

"Can you not just talk to me?"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because I don't want to!"

"What are you afraid is to happen?"

"I don't have to explain myself. Especially not to you."

So, you don't explain yourself. You walk over to the couch and take a seat, arms and legs crossed, looking anywhere but at Carlos.

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to that first date with Carlos last year. You know what you were signing up for. You knew all the judgement would be on you if/when you decided to go public. You knew Ferrari would have many things to say about your relationship, and they did, when you told them earlier in the season before it could potentially get ugly with a reveal from unsasvory sources.

You knew all of that and you went for it, anyway, because could you even call yourself a Norris if you didn't go after what you wanted? You knew what being with Carlos would bring but apparently, you were the only one.

After eleven amazing months together, Carlos got cold feet. You don't know how else to describe it. You had told your family after three months; he'd told his after just one. Everyone was happy for you. Your family loves Carlos, and the Sainz clan accepted you with open arms. You were so happy.

But as your relationship pushed a year, Carlos said you needed to talk, called you a distraction, subsequently hazardous for his line of work, and ended things.

Did you call him an emotionally stunted manchild before storming out of the cafe he asked to meet at? If you did, he surely deserved it.

A few weeks after that, you're where you are now, locked in a bedroom on a yacht while a party rages on several floors above. Carlos says he regrets breaking up with you, that he wanted to take back everything he said, but he already said it and that's how things are now.

You'll not be the girl he comes crawling back to whenever it's convenient for him. If going steady is a hazard for work, then an off again-on again situationship is definitely not OSHA-compliant. You refuse to lower yourself to being a doormat that Carlos wipes his feet on whenever he feels he has the time.

After a while of standing guard at the balcony door, Carlos makes a move to sit on the couch with you.

"No," you say.

He halts midstep.

"You can sit on the bed."

Slowly, as though giving you a chance to change your mind, Carlos sulks over to the bed and sits.

He's moving to Williams next year. He has only a handful of races left in rosso corsa. He doesn't know you're sitting on a job offer that could have you following him, a promotion to head strategist at the Oxfordshire team that you can't believe you're actually debating because of your standing with a man.

You've told no one of Williams's proposition. So, you really don't know why you open your mouth to tell Carlos of all people.

"Williams wants me as their head strategist."

He looks up, eyes bright, surprised but excited for you. "What? That is amazing."

"Yeah, I know it is," you say, glaring at him again. "I haven't accepted yet, though."

Carlos is quiet, then carefully says, "Because of me?"

"No," you say because it's just ridiculous for that to be the reason you're holding up contract negotiations, "Yes, because of you. Obviously. I don't want you thinking I'm following you. I'm not. I'm pursuing my career. So, I know that changes you being all regretful. I just want to clarify things before you hear about it from someone else.”

“Why would it change how I feel?”

“Because we’ll still be coworkers next season.”

“That changes it? What does it change?”

Carlos' accent (hot as fuck) and the way he doesn't always say things 100% correct (cute as fuck) are misleading for his actual understanding of the English language. So, you're really not sure what he's getting confused over.

He's leaving. You were supposed to be staying. No longer working together meant no distractions for him until you would meet up at a hotel after a shitty quali and he would fuck the shit out of you. Or something like that.

It'd feel good in the moment but you don't want him for just sex. You don't want casual. You don't want to be a convenient, low-maintenance, not-quite-official girlfriend. You won't do it. No matter how pretty he is.

And his plan to get you back was ruined now that you'd be moving to Williams for next season, anyway.

“I’d not be a distraction if I was staying at Ferrari. Now, we’ll both still be on the same team. Not convenient for you to still be in a toxic work environment, huh? So, you can cut the crap.”

“That has nothing to do with my regret."

"I won't be a casual fuck buddy who you can't stand to be around when it doesn't work for you."

"I never said that!"

He seems genuinely hurt by your implication but you won't fall for it, won't let it deter you.

"It's kind of implied. You know with the whole 'I have to focus on my driving' thing. Like, what the fuck were you doing for the rest of the time we were together? Nothing changed and you suddenly decided it was too much, then you want me back but I ruined that for you. You'll be seeing me next year, too, so don't even bother with the whole regret speech or whatever."

"I—," Carlos starts, then says nothing.

He can't seem to find the words.

"What? Nothing to say? You wanted to talk. Talk."

"If I am in a team with you or not," he says, slow, calculated, "It does not change that I regret what I said."

Carlos takes a second to think before continuing. That's where you two differ.

Carlos has always been incredibly intelligent. You knew he was gorgeous before you had ever met in person but his mind made him appeal even more to you when you first started working trackside last season. Long, intellectual conversations preceded him asking you out after his masterclass in Singapore.

You nearly started foaming at the mouth when he said "it's on purpose" to keeping your brother within DRS to hold off Mercedes. You were ready to jump his bones right then and there in the middle of the team celebration when he asked you to dinner before you flew back to England.

But he was a gentleman. (He didn't fuck you until after your second date, but it was a close thing that first night when you leaned over the center console to kiss him. You'd have ridden him right there in the front seat of that rental car if your idiot brother hadn't chosen then to walk by and make a scene. Kind of a mood killer.)

The two of you both found fascination in the other's way of thinking, Carlos' smooth logic and your chaotic brilliance. He is all thought and few words while you talk and talk until you find your solution.

You always found beauty in the contrast. You balance each other. Simultaneously alike and disimilar. He is someone you saw yourself building a life with. After nearly a year together, those are the kinds of thoughts you start to have about a partner.

"So, you regret it," you gather, "But do you still think I'm a distraction?"

"Of course, you are a distraction. I am in love with you. There is nothing more distracting than that."

You laugh, disbelieving. "You're in love with me but I'm distracting and you can't be with me? Why? Because you love racing more?"

"I was scared. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am."

"Self deprecation won't do you any favors. But, yeah, you are stupid. You're not making any sense."

"I was scared. You were everything I could think of. I thought I could not find a balance between you and racing. But without you, it is even worse. I want you as a distraction. I know that because I have lost you.”

“You haven’t,” you say before your brain even knows what you’re doing. “Not entirely, yet. Maybe… You’re not allowed to do this again. Ever.”

And you’re crying. Of course.

Carlos is at your side in record time, kneeling in front of you, taking immediate advantage of the crack in your defenses. “Never.”

“You can’t do shit like this. You can’t push me aside like I don’t matter. You can’t call me a distraction.”

“You are a distraction. In the best way.”

Unimpressed and wiping your tears, you say, “Wow. You’re such a poet.”

Carlos laughs thickly. “I love you.”

“Ugh, fuck off.”

You’re still wiping at your face. You didn’t cry when Carlos called it quits, refused to let him have any sort of hold over you when he pushed you aside but now, you’re crying. It’s in relief but you still feel your face getting hot from the embarrassment of it.

He knocks your hands aside to cup your cheeks. “You are the love of my life. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I broke.”

“S’not broken. Just bent. Or whatever the saying is. I don’t fucking care—just kiss me.”

Carlos’ “yes, ma’am” is muffled against your lips.

It’s only been three weeks (three and a half but who’s counting) since he last kissed you but it feels like an eternity.

It’s salty from your tears and wet, also from the tears but more from the way you let his tongue into your mouth after probably not enough time has passed. You don’t care. You just want him.

“I love you," you break the kiss to say. "Don't leave me."

"I won't."

"Say it back."

"I love you. I love you I love you I love you."

.

His words jumble between English and Spanish as he kisses down your body.

Your breath catches as he pulls your hips further down the cushion you're sat on. Stupid F1 driver muscles. You want to sink your teeth into his bicep, make him walk around with the bruise, a reminder of who he belongs to.

He slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, looks up for permission. You lift your hips. You've missed what his big brown eyes look like when they're all dark with want.

He pulls your pants and underwear down and tosses them aside, tugging you even closer to the edge of the couch. Your legs part. He puts your knees on his shoulders then finally pushes his face between your thighs.

You let your head fall back as you sigh, probably sounding ridiculous but he's always been good at this.

He had you ride his face one time. He practically had to beg to get you to agree. There was a lot of him gripping onto you, arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to force you to stay in place. He'd kept you there until you couldn't stay upright or fight against his hold, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with just his mouth.

Then, he'd fucked you until you came for a fifth time. (You tell a guy one time about how your last partner hadn't the patience to get more than one orgasm out of you, and he makes it his life's mission to get three or more every time you go at it. How terrible for you. Ha.)

He eats you out like a man starving, like he has something to prove. To be fair, he does but he's not going to be entirely back in your good graces just because he's helping you get off for the first time in three and a half weeks. This is just extra credit.

One of his hands finds yours. He tangles your fingers and holds your hand as he involves his free fingers in slipping past your entrance. You open up for him with obscene ease, legs falling apart even further.

He fucks you with a single finger slow, slow, slow while his tongue licks languidly at your clit.

"Carlos," you whine his name.

You don't need all the pleasure you already know he's more than capable of giving you. You just need to get off already.

"I will get you there, hermosa," he promises with a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Get there faster; I don't want my idiot brother thinking better of his insane plan and letting us out while you're nose-deep in my cunt."

Carlos huffs a laugh. You can feel the air against where you're wet. It makes you squirm.

Usually, Carlos would tell you to stay still and be patient but seems to think better of it this time. You would probably still do as he says, circumstance regardless, but he doesn't need to know that. He just presses his lips back to your pussy.

He sucks on the hardened little bundle of nerves at the joint of your labia just how he knows will make you go limp and needy. He pushes a second then a third finger into you, the stretch just that much more than you can manage with your own, smaller digits.

You could've gotten it with the neglected dildo that lives somewhere mostly forgotten in your closet. There was something that felt so final about bringing out the toy you haven't needed since that second date. Thankfully, you still don't need it. You should consider just pitching it, at this point.

You push your hand through Carlos' hair, brushing the ridiculously perfect locks off his forehead so you can watch his stupid, beautiful face as he goes down on you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby," you praise.

His dark eyes flicker up to you, exhaling against your exposed cunt and shifting his knees on the floor.

You're sure if he had a hand free, he'd be palming himself over his pants. He gets off on you getting off and praise goes straight to his dick. You've got this fantasy of making him come completely untouched but you might need to do actual research on that before it becomes a reality.

He sticks his tongue down with his fingers, lapping at your hole and spitting your wetness onto your clit just because it's hot. Like the way he's slobbering over you isn't enough to make the glide of his tongue over your clit smooth and delectable.

"Come on, baby. Don't tease. Not now."

Carlos makes this little displeased noise in the back on his throat.

Quickies aren't really in Carlos' sexual vocabulary. He occasionally likes it as rough and fast as the next dick-haver but he's more of a spread you open and make love to you for hours at a time kind of guy.

He took you to a secluded little cabana in Mallorca for a week during summer break specifically so you two could spend days on end doing nothing but loving on each other. Then, he took you to meet his family and you had to pretend like you hadn't spent the majority of the week prior with their golden child's dick or fingers or tongue inside of you.

Currently, you're just wanting to find relief without Lando or some other F1 driver walking in on you first.

"Carlos, baby—please."

Carlos likes when you play nice. When you're so desperate for it that your bossy exterior goes away. You tell yourself that you exploit this because your unending pride doesn't like the alternative that you really just are that desperate for it.

He finally starts to finger bang you properly. Combine that with the obscene slurping sounds he's making against your clit and the lack of action for nearly a month and no one could really blame you for not taking long to hit your high.

Heat curls and explodes in your gut and up your spine, back arching, lungs gasping, Carlos' name falling from your mouth as your thighs try to close around his head. He gets his elbows up to hold your legs open. His fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls his other hand free of your grip to massage your clit with his thumb, kissing your thighs, pubes, stomach.

He captures your lips in a kiss while you're still riding it out. It's intense and leg-shaking after so long without, emotion-driven, which is the best kind but not worth it after knowing what the fear of losing him is like. You can hardly kiss him back, face pulled in pleausre, moans spilling past your lips that Carlos swallows unburdened.

You tuck your face into his shoulder as he drags it out just to the precipice of overstimulation. You tug him into you, arms around his shoulders, fingers tugging the hair at the base of his skull. He lets his fingers rest inside of you, rests that thumb against your clit so he can hold you back with one arm, at least.

You just breathe for a moment, composing yourself where he can't see your face. The worst may be over but the level of trust you'd built over months together would not be so easily reinstated. He'd have to work hard for that, much harder than a sinlge mind-blowing orgasm.

"Don't leave me," you say in a whisper. "You can't, okay?"

"I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise I will not leave you again. I am the most dumb man if I lose you another time. I will deserve it, then."

"Be smart, then. Like I know you have the capacity to be."

Carlos pulls his fingers out. He catches your shiver, still wrapped up in his one arm. He kisses your cheek before finding something to clean his hands with. You've pulled your pants back on when he's finished.

"Likelihood someone heard us?" you prompt.

"Heard you, you mean?"

You kick at him as he comes back over to you. "Watch it."

He tucks you against his side once he's sat. "Scale?"

"One to a hundred."

"90, at least."

You smack his chest. "Dick."

"You are very loud, mi amor. You talk so much, and you make such pretty noises."

"Don't insult me immediately after I've forgiven you."

You've not drawn away from him at all. In fact, you've tucked your feet up on the couch to curl into him fully.

Carlos knows this. He presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you. I am sorry I am so stupid."

"I guess I've just got to have enough brains and beauty for the both of us."

"You have always."

You hide your smile in his chest. He holds your thigh when you put your legs across his lap. Now you've got him back, you want to be as close as physically possible. Whoever first said they want to be inside their partner's skin really gets it.

.

George Russell ends up getting sent to let you two out. Evidently, your brother fled the scene of the crime once the yacht returned to port in the early hours of the morning. He dumped the chore of opening Pandora's box on an innocnet bystander.

"I am so sorry—"

"Oh, clever," you say when you spot the poor Brit, "He sends an uninvolved party to let me out like I couldn't track him anywhere in the world. I've his trainer's phone number and Jon likes me more than him. I am going to beat his skinny little muppet ass. When I find him—"

You trip over the tangle of chairs that had been used to barricade the bedroom door from the outside.

Carlos catches your elbow.

"Amor, it is late," he says. "Sleep, first, hm?"

You relax into his hold a bit, a silent concession. It'll be easier to murder your little brother after a good night's sleep, anyway.

"So, are you two...?" George trails off.

You cut him a glare.

"Nothing. Never mind. Apologies."

He speeds around the two of you and off the boat.

"The 2019 rookies are all terrified of you."

"Good."

Carlos laughs. "I am excited to see what Alex is like with you next year."

You smile.

Next year, you'll still be working with Carlos. It'll be at a different team, a midfielder at best but at least Carlos will still be on the grid. He'll still find increasingly laughable excuses to be in engineering just to see you. He'll still come home to you, the same that you'll come home to him.

A future with Carlos is still in the cards. He'll be damned if he messes it up again, you know that much.

[cazort]

I think you've hit some of the big factors but not all of them.

I think a major factor driving people to Trump is reaction to left-wing extremism during the 2010's, so-called "cancel culture". My one friend who is a Trump supporter is like this. He had a bunch of people gang up on him and totally demonize him. Some of their criticisms were fair criticisms of bad things he had done, but that he had apologized for and he thought they had been resolved. He lost his entire social circle minus a few isolated friends like me who did not cut him off. It was traumatizing for him.

My neighbor, who is very liberal, has a son who is also a Trump supporter and he also became such a supporter because he got "cancelled". In his case, he made a single problematic comment about race publicly on social media. He was a freelance photographer. A whole bunch of people ganged up on him almost instantly and destroyed his professional reputation almost overnight. Again, he was traumatized. He moved back home with his parents.

Both of these people ended up going deep down right-wing rabbit holes. The right-wingers spoke to these people and empathized with their pain and listened to their concerns while the left bullied, condemned, and cut them off. It seems totally understandable to me that these people fell into right-wing circles based on how they were treated.

The thing is, each of these people did something wrong. But the mob's reaction to them was disproportionate, and it was condemning not supportive. Completely ruining someone's professional reputation and destroying their source of livelihood is not a proportionate reaction to making a single comment that people perceived as racist. And bringing up bad things a person has done in their past, that they had fully apologized for and thought were resolved, is not even remotely healthy in terms of ways to communicate and act. Even if the original action was quite bad. Neither of these reactions helped the person in any way shape or form to learn or grow.

For every extreme case like this, there are hundreds if not thousands of minor cases.

One thing that I think has driven people away from the left is identity politics, specifically, the way the left does not embrace principles of "treat people equally regardless of their identity" but rather, has embraced ideas where certain groups are labeled "privileged" and others "oppressed" or "marginalized", and the left's general ethic is to give the marginalized groups more of a voice. Special treatment, so to speak. The worst is when people start feeling license to insult or talk down to people in the privileged group. I've been saying for years that targeting privileged groups with hate always ends up hurting marginalized groups the most.

I wrote that post 8 years ago. Not enough people have read it. It only has 24 reblogs. Seriously. You want to figure out why Trump won and prevent this sort of thing from happening again? Read that post. Reflect. Internalize it. Reblog it. Make new material that communicates the same ideas in your own voice. I'm wordy and make these long text posts that don't reach everyone...find new ways to communicate it that will reach others.

Seriously, people, we have a lot of work to do. The nation is hurting and it's not just the people who voted for Harris. The whole Trump movement is a big giant ball of hurt and if we can't see that and can't work to heal those people we will never get ourselves out of this mess.

If Harris loses, please try blaming real issues (Republican-driven voter suppression and intimidation tactics; billionaire-funded Trump-PAC’s and propaganda machines; a broken electoral system that hinges presidential elections on a dozen or so states instead of a simple popular vote; or the Democratic Party’s fumbled opportunities to respond to things like the corporate greed driven cost of living crisis, the housing shortage, the medical debt and healthcare accessibility crisis, the ongoing climate disaster, and the ongoing genocide in Palestine) instead of doing the Right’s job for them by blaming folks like climate protestors, Antizionist and pro-Palestine activists, Black and Brown people, jaded millennials living paycheck to paycheck, and tumblr users with an audience ⅛ the size of the average Christofascist MegaChurch Congregation.

[superblysubpar]

This may seem silly, but it's helped me a lot and it may help you.

It is times like this that I like to pretend that I'm in a story.

If I'm just the character in a story right now, I can imagine that this pit, this despair, this hopelessness, is just what the sick and twisted author wanted. We're at the part of the story where our protagonists, me, you, us, have lost all hope. The enemy doesn't want us to get back up, and right now, we have no intention of doing so, so they think they've won. The cord in space has been tethered from ship and communication with NASA isn't going through. Uncle Ben and Aunt Mae and Uncle Aaron and Gwen are gone. The radios aren't working, no one is coming for help. Max Mayfield isn't going to wake up and we're all just a bunch of kids who didn't win.

And you're so at a loss for how to move on, even if you wanted to, and that's okay. You're defeated, you're scared, you're hurt, you're hopeless.

But you aren't alone.

Because, see, if you remind yourself you're in your story, there's me, and so many others, that are clutching their book with a booklight at 2am, desperate for you to get up. Or in their living room with their hands on their head screaming that you have to win. Or clutching a blanket up to their chin with a melting pint of Cherry Garcia in hand, sobbing, begging you to keep going.

You have to keep going. This isn't how your story ends.

And it's okay if you can't see it yet. It's okay to stay sad, and hurt, and scared, but eventually, I need you to get up and keep going. We all need you to keep going.

It may not be easy, getting back up when everything just wants to keep you down, but we'll help you, in any way we can. And when you do - you can help other people, who may be even less safe, more scared, who are also unable to get out of this part of their story alone.

Please keep going. March, make calls, vote again in two years and again in four. Donate to shelters, donate to individuals, donate to organizations - if you can't donate, volunteer, spread their message, ask others to help in any way they can. Pay for someone's coffee in line. Kiss and hug people you love. Write and read silly stories. Listen, talk, engage and keep faith that change can happen from many small acts of it. And most importantly, be kind.

I love you, mean it 💛

[deliciousnecks]

But can we talk about how powerful nandor is? like yeah, he might be a bit silly, and not in touch with the modern world, but if he wanted to, he could have already conquered whatever the fuck he wanted to. (he built an army, and jerry is still looking at maps over there).

like let's just start by pointing out that nandor didn't need to be a vampire to accomplish all these great things that he wanted in life. vampirism only made him more dangerous. nandor has always had too much power in his hands, that he tends to misuse, but that's actually a good thing for the people around him because if not, the truth is that they would be fucked.

He was born in a position of privilege, one that put him later on in his life in positions of power, he was a leader who did fucked up shit. As a vampire, he can hypnotize thousands, but even if he couldn't, nandor knows how to attract people to him when he puts his mind to it, as we were able to see, but guess what? he also has doing everyone around him doing whatever shit he wants, because rarely people can say no to him. What nandor wants, nandor gets (even the stupidest of things).

Now. Don't get me started with his pyrokinesis. The dude can create and manipulate fire. Like come on, you know all the batshit crazy things that he could be doing with that? people should be thankful that he's not going around acting in unhinged ways.

He's a formidable warrior, the fact that he live as long as he did as a human, through battles and wars, and the guy didn't get killed? i don't know, but I think that says a lot about his kills. he also can use a large variety of weapons, so now imagine. This guy who's the greatest warrior of his time, gets the strength and the speed that comes with vampirism. he becomes a fucking killing machine (not like he wasn't one already), but now he's unstoppable and on top of that, immortal!

As i said in the beginning of this post, time and time again nandor has been given power, too much power I should say. he even got those 52 wishes and the things my guy here could have accomplished with them? ridiculous! but he was feeling silly, so... he decided to have fun instead. Good for him.

Now, we now he conquered places and won wars, and while his years as a ruler were bloody, it seems like he did a lot of Al Quolanudar when it comes to territory. What I'm trying to say is that he's a good strategist, he's good, no he's the best at what he does. he excels in what he was trained and taught to do (and even the vampire community acknowledges this).

People always like to underestimate him (the fandom included. it's true.), say that in a battle he stands no chance. That X, Y, and Z are more could easily demolish him, that he can't do shit for himself, but like excuse me, he's the oldest vampire in that house, look at all the shit that he can do, so no. He's the strongest and most powerful piece in that chessboard, mam. Nandor could go on a killing spree and no one could stop him.

This latest season really brought forward this qualities of his that had always been there. Nandor can be competent, he can be assertive, he really just chooses not to, but if he did! well, we saw what can happen when he is.

nandor is powerful, skillful, and dangerous in more than one way, and yes! smart when he needs to be.

And i make this post, because some people have made him into this character that's just an idiot with 0 qualities, and those qualities that he does have, are always being diminished to make other characters look better (yes. to make guillermo look better. i said it, which is highly unnecessary because he can shine on his own).

It's not that he can't do shit, the fact is that he doesn't want to.

[brotherwtf]

I submit this and humbly request your imagination of a scenario

wait wait this got me thinking about frat boy/preppy Gale, someone who's a little shit kind of like how Gale is in canon, quick one liners to easily make fun of people all while looking so innocent

John who's kind of shy, doesn't really talk to people and keeps to himself, but he opens up more with his friends, some sort of tutor and that's why he's always in the library when Gale finds him

Gale's failing english, point blank period, and he needs to save his grade or he's going to get kicked out of his frat, so he finds John in the library and asks for his help.

and John's nervous because he has a couple of classes with Gale, knows he can be outright cruel if he wants to be, knows he has a beautiful girl on his arm, so he hates himself even more when he gets those stupid teenage butterflies in his stomach whenever he sees Gale, all cleaned up and proper and Johns already so far gone

but Gale's a sweetheart, always kind and quiet with John and while he sometimes teases him it's all in good fun, and Johns always a blushing mess whenever Gale sits next to him and he almost can't concentrate on the assignment they're working on

sometimes Marge will tag along, offer up some unhelpful commentary, maybe she mentions something about Johns glasses "they do nothing for your face, hun" and when Gale gives her a look she feigns innocence "what? I'm just stating the obvious," and Johns up and leaving, trying not to look behind him and have his heart broken again

the next time John meets with Gale he wears his contacts, he almost doesn't recognize himself in the mirror but maybe Marge was right, maybe they were the problem, and he hates to admit that he wants Gale to like him the way he likes her

and when Gale sees him he looks confused, like he's trying to place something until he asks "where are you glasses, John?"

"I decided to wear contacts, Marge was right they're not doing anything for me" John shrugs and Gale furrows his eyebrows together

"I thought your glasses made you look cute," and OOPS John's a fucking goner because now he can't talk and he's rendered speechless and Gales acting like nothing even happened as he very casually pulls out his book and waits for John to get his wits together so he can actually be doing what he's supposed to

and it keeps going on like this "that sweater makes you look cute" "I really like those pants Bucky" "did you do something different with your hair? it looks good" all while John is secretly telling him to shut up because he can't handle all of the compliments lest Gale wants him to pass away from all of the compliments

Gale says one day that he broke up with Marge, couldn't handle her negativity, says he likes how positive John is, and then it's quiet for a moment, Gale fiddling with the pages of his book, and Johns freaking out before Gale just kisses him on the cheek, smiles with the faintest blush and runs out of the library before John can even say anything

he texts Gale after, asks if everything's all right, and Gale doesn't respond, doesn't respond for a couple of days and John worries that their friendship is ruined, blames himself for all of it even though Gale technically kissed him first

he's walking back to his dorm one night when he hears someone call his name, and he turns to find Gale running after him, panting and looking like he just ran across campus

"John, I'm really sorry, but I gotta tell you something. I like you, like I like you a lot, and I'm sorry if kissing you fucked up our friendship, you don't ever have to talk to me again, I just felt like I had to say something before you left," Gale confesses, and it's like John was hit with a fire hose

and he can't quite help himself, doesnt know what happened or what came over him, but he grabs Gale's face and kisses him, almost desperately, and he can feel Gale smile into the kiss, hates but doesn't hate how much he loves how it feels to finally kiss him, after so many hours of quietly watching him, it feels so good

anyway I have this sweet hc where Gale just lifts John's glasses whenever he wants to smush his face against John's, pulls them off so he can sloppily make out with him and I just think that's neat :))

[smiletimeisrunningout]

Ben's words and expression reminded Emma of the way he spoke of his youth, of his lack of experience with women, how he believed himself to be not quite the looker as a boy. He clearly didn't enjoy being easily embarrassed now, especially when it came to bedding people, and she knew as a man he'd hardly find people encouraging that side of him. It was so silly, to think of how they were encouraged to act like they had no weaknesses, and she may have felt the same about the matter, had she not been raised by a man like her father.

"Make no mistake, I would not want you to be any different," she decided to say then, bringing a hand to his cheek and cupping it gently, "Even the parts of you I can't read because I'm all sorts of confused by my own feelings. If you'll ever choose to come home with me, you'll be welcomed to spend your days reading to kids and looking for new poems and books. You'll never have to be calm and collected unless you wish to be."

Although there was something funny about thinking of Ben living the life of retirement and lazy days that she had planned for her hypothetical future old husband, and instead of that happening because she only needed a husband to have her throne it would be because she had a husband she liked.

"Or you could do whatever you want, I'm making it sound like I'm going to... hold you hostage like some sort of beauty in the tower." God, she had almost said 'marry you'. So much for going as slow as possible. "I just meant to say that I don't want you to change one bit for me, I like you the way you are. Besides the part where you grow double the patience you have now, so you can withstand my moods."

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad, I would love for you to show me and prove me wrong."

"The side of my bed has a few canvas, you have my permission to check because they are landscapes and, unlike faces, they actually look decent," she offered, adjusting her position on the bed; it hurt, again, and Emma wondered how long it would take before she'd be able to just kiss him as much as she'd like. He was so interested, and so damn kissable. "The next time I'm not dying and we can go out, we'll find a place where I can sing, then. I doubt the rest of your army would be keen. They have more important things to deal with... you don't, anymore, because you have chosen to court me and you must act accordingly," she teased, giving his cheek a light tap.

"I'll finally convince you that books aren't so bad -- or at the very least, listening along to a good story?"

"See, the compromise is right there: you read a book you like, you tell me about it. Much better if you want me to pay attention from beginning to end. Plus, it won't harm me like reading. The headaches just aren't worth it, when I can be told the story." She was surprised whenever she met people who were so dedicated to books; her father loved reading, but he didn't have enough time to do so, so she figured he didn't have to battle with the inevitable headaches as much, but August and Ben? Masochists.

I'm not so sure I can reciprocate, but that's because I only tend to fall into bed with those I...w-well, I prefer meaning to my dalliances-" "Oh, sweetie," she whispered, smiling in reassurance. "-And clearly, I hadn't found that before you, since you were...y-you were my... My first."

"No, I know that, and that's lovely, really. I would never expect you to drop your values for me," she assured him, "There is nothing wrong with you waiting, you know that. In fact, you should be proud: you did it the way you wanted, when you wanted, and not because you felt you had to. That takes guts. I may not share the... uh... philosophy behind it, but I will defend it until the end of days." Though it was still odd to her that he hadn't been taken aback by her history. "I don't... I think I don't really kiss much, if there is no feeling behind it? Even if, in my case, generally the feeling was friendship, I suppose to me it's kissing that required some meaning. It feels so intimate. Like holding hands."

She took his hand, not just to make a point but to feel just how natural it was. She may lay with a stranger, but she certainly would not hold hands with him.

"In fact, I've been told I'm rather hotheaded, and despite my father's valiant efforts, I'm not the best with sharing, either. Not that I intend to."

Her gasp was far too intrigued, "You are jealous?" she asked in delight, "Oh, that sounds fun. We have to revisit that once I have healed enough... Naturally, you know you don't need to worry about me looking at other men, I find the thought of cheating repulsive." That and when she had met Selah Strong in passing and had properly ogled him, she had almost died on the spot after Caleb had explained he was married to their friend Anna. Her horror at having looked at the man for too long had even entertained James, who had apparently expected her 'not to care' on account of her being 'so carefree', which he had not meant as an insult, but had horrified her even more. No, taken men were off-limits, and so was she as a taken woman. "But if you wish to deck someone because they cross a line with me or something of the sort, please make sure I'm there."

"Perhaps my fear made you appear more... calm and collected about the whole ordeal than you actually were," she suggested, which wasn't an unfair assumption. "I do hope I'll get to see that... gollumpus you speak of. He seems just my type."

Benjamin grinned, his eyes shining self-consciously. "Trust me: no one has ever called me calm and collected, and least especially when it comes to protecting those I love. But if my gollumpus side is the one you're yearning for, I just might have some competition on my hands."

All the naked things?

Yet again, Benjamin felt a damnable spread of heat searing across his face as he laughed, darting his eyes in between her face and the ground. He wasn't sure why after all this time he was still shy at such talk -- especially since she'd never exactly been withholding when it came to her candidness -- but with a shake of his head, he softly reassured, "No, I...w-well, according to Caleb, I'm very much like an open book. If I like someone, or dislike them, it's plain as day... But apparently not to those who truly matter."

Emma was quick to dismiss any artistic pursuits. Despite her typical self-deprecation (something that he, himself, tended to mirror in his own behavior), Benjamin found himself laughing at the idea. "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad," he said. "I would love for you to show me and prove me wrong."

When she brought up singing, he perked up. "I've heard you were fond of it," he allowed, "but I've never actually been privy to a concert. I was always out and about, or busying myself with papers, and...other tasks."

It occurred to him then that Emma wasn't wholly privy to the ring. Perhaps he should tell her someday, he thought, if she wished to be given the ultimate sign of his trust and admiration.

Seemingly oblivious to his inner conflict, Emma continued, "Considering that, it's odd that I miss painting. But I... like the idea of doing that while you read... doing that sort of thing together, as in sharing a room. Or tent, in this case."

"I like that too," Benjamin softly reassured. "And maybe one day, one day, I'll finally convince you that books aren't so bad -- or at the very least, listening along to a good story?"

Emma appeared rather embarrassed, but before he could ask what he'd done, she was quick to turn around and embarrass him. "I assure you," she coyly said, "had you been inclined, I would have taken you to bed long before knowing you as a person. Just because of your looks. Multiple women being interested in you is not out of the realm of possibilities."

"I...thank you?" Benjamin stammered, his brows scrunching with a self-conscious chuckle. "I'm not so sure I can reciprocate, but that's because I only tend to fall into bed with those I...w-well, I prefer meaning to my dalliances. And clearly, I hadn't found that before you, since you were...y-you were my..." Awkwardly, he waved a hand before shyly concluding, "My first."

Emma rattled off all the ways other women could be jealous -- the idea seemed absurd to him, if he was being honest -- yet she was quick to denounce such thoughts. "That sounds horrible," she decided. "I hope my status will scare them away. You are lucky no one has tried to woo me here so you don't need to witness it, but I'll have to prepare so I can have a proper ladylike reaction, it's not as if I can fight them, they are ladies."

Benjamin scoffed. "You are lucky for that, too," he challenged. "I confess, I've never had to keep menfolk away from a woman, but I do know I'm not much for jealousy. In fact, I've been told I'm rather hotheaded, and despite my father's valiant efforts, I'm not the best with sharing, either. Not that I intend to." He flashed a lopsided smile. "I'll share your time here and there, but anything else risks that gollumpus we talked about coming into play."

[squinch-depraved]

I LOVE YOUR VIRGINITY AU 😭😭😭😭 its actually so GOOD i cant wait to see what schlatt has to say when he talks to us (please tell me ur making a part 6😭🙏🙏🙏)

this series is so much fun i have so many ideas and apparently y'all do too so keep em comin i love you all

CW: a lil dubcon-y, choking, v rough

ted makes it out and down the street just in time to see schlatt yank open the door to the main building and let it slam behind him

he winces at the thought of what you're in for now that he's gone, remembering the hickey on your neck only when he crosses the street

schlatt, in the meantime, is barging into your apartment, mumbling a half-hearted apology to your roommate as they nervously grab their stuff and leave you two alone

he heads straight down the hallway to your room and just hovers in the entryway, tossing his bags down by the door like ted did

"charlie?" he starts

"i can explain-"

you try to reason with him but he just strides over to the bed in two large steps and climbs so he's leaning over you, staring down at you with a dark, vacant expression

"of course you're going to explain. you're gonna tell me all about it while i..." his voice trails off as he notices the bruise on the side of your throat

"what the fuck is this?"

he sounds different, like it caught him off guard

"that's not... that's not charlie. his hickeys are older. that looks like it just fucking happened. are you kidding me?"

"schlatt, i told you we aren't exclusive."

"i'm not mad you fucked someone else!!" he exclaims, almost in disbelief

"i'm mad you fucked one of my best friends."

you make a face and he narrows his eyes for a second

"...who gave you that, on your neck?"

unable to meet his gaze, you turn away and try to find the right words

"why are you acting so strange? do i know him?"

"schlatt..."

"what?"

he sets his jaw and gently takes one of your wrists in each of his hands, bringing them to either side of your head and pinning you down

"s-schlatt, listen, i don't want it to cause problems between you two," you stammer

his grip tightens as he realizes the only other person it could be

scanning your face to see if your remorse is genuine, he swallows hard and grins a hollow, hopeless smile

"you fucked ted, didn't you?"

his words paralyze you; the only movement in the room is the rapid rising and falling of your chest

"i'm so sorry," you begin once you can finally talk again

a deep sigh escapes him, and he shakes his head slightly as he looks away

"you fucking whore."

helpless to stop the strangled moan that falls from your lips, you shift uncomfortably on the bed

schlatt moves from his position on your side, leering down at you, to one on top of you, holding you down even more forcefully now

"i should've known. i shouldn't've told them how good you were if i wanted to keep you all to myself. fuck," he mutters, more to himself than anything

"i'm not some toy for you to-"

"shut the fuck up!! right now, you absolutely are a toy. can't believe you're that much of a fucking slut."

"schlatt!!"

"i said shut up!" he snarls

"was he better than me? i know charlie wasn't; there's no shot he fucks good."

he switches to holding both of your wrists in one hand above your head and grips your face with the other, squishing your cheeks and eliciting a small moan from you

"i'm only gonna ask you one more time. was he better than me?"

his voice is cold, and it send chills down your spine

"he was- it was different!! it was just different, schlatt, please, you know i don't like to compare," you babble in an attempt to satiate him

but it's not enough

he lets out a low chuckle and, in a flash, his hand is wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter every second

"you're dumber than i thought," he muses, tilting his head as he enjoys the way your eyes roll back into your head, fluttering open and closed rapidly

a frantic, garbled grunt from you convinces him to release you, and he shakes out his hand after he does

he pulls off the clothes you barely managed to put on in time after ted left and wastes no time shoving two fingers into you

when you let out a wail and arch your back, he just shoves you back down by your hips and begins pumping them in and out at a merciless pace (this is for his pleasure, not yours, remember?)

"fuck!!! please, schlatt, stop," you beg

but he doesn't listen

just flicks his eyes up to your face and then shoves his head between your thighs

he's cruel with his tongue, swirling and circling and flicking at your clit endlessly

no amount of screaming his name changes his behavior, he just keeps eating you

occasionally he pulls away to look at the mess he's made of your cunt, sloppy and covered in both your juices and his saliva

he always returns to his feasting after delivering a harsh smack to your pussy

it goes on for almost an hour; your bedsheets are completely ruined by the time he pulls away, chest heaving, and wipes his mouth

you can't even speak, your throat is sore from pleading with him to stop. you gave up after the third orgasm

schlatt doesn't even say anything, just pulls his shirt over his head (giving you flashbacks to ted) and tears his pants and boxers off

you watch wearily as he hikes your legs over his shoulders and shoves himself into you

it would've hurt if you weren't absolutely soaked

immediately, he establishes a brutal pace, and you swear you can feel him brushing your cervix with every thrust

it's slightly painful, but you swear nothing has ever felt so good

he's got you bent nearly in half, watching your expressions as you sob silently from the bliss he's giving you

"bet he didn't feel this good."

he smirks almost imperceptibly when you shake your head vigorously, finally admitting what he wanted to hear

"yeah? bet he couldn't fuck you like i do. bet he wasn't able to reach this- fuck- deep inside you, huh?"

a raspy squeal escapes you, voice breaking from desperation

"got you so fucked out you can't even talk. just layin' there cryin'. do you know how pathetic you are? made your way around the whole friend group. are you fuckin' happy with yourself? you satisfied yet?"

he punctuates each question with a slam deeper into you than the last, gritting his teeth and hanging his head once he finishes speaking

"i'm gonna fucking cum in you. and you're gonna take it. do you understand?" he growls

nodding frantically, your walls clench around him, and he groans and somehow quickens his pace, jackhammering into you so hard and fast that you can't help but scream his name over and over, despite how badly your throat hurts

he's very vocal towards the end, moaning and grunting desperately as he pumps his hips forward a few final times before completely sinking into you as he releases

after a bit, he pulls out and lets your legs drop, noticing how shaky they are and patting one knee softly

"c'mon. i'll help you to the bathroom. but after that we need to actually have a conversation; i'm sorry i lost it like that."

dazed, you nod, and he helps you take a shower

as the hot water streams down the both of you, schlatt holding you up while he washes you off, he presses a kiss to the top of your head

"i don't... i don't want you to think i didn't enjoy sleeping with charlie and ted," you mumble dreamily

he falters for a second but continues cleaning you off

"i like you a lot, schlatt, but i'm into the two of them as well. i want you to be okay with that."

he lets out a deep exhale as he turns off the water, then steps out of the shower and helps you dry off

"i'd have to talk to them. we'll see, i dunno. can we just... spend the rest of the day together and talk about this tomorrow?"

a soft smile appears on your face and you nod, pulling him down to kiss you

"c'mon, help me get to bed. i can barely stand up."

[natequarter]

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

considering changing my url but like what even to. yourbutchboyfriend?

💣 commiedyke Follow

DO ITTT

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

alright :3 here goes nothing

#anything for you

3 notes

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

man why does the doctor always act like i don't know what sex is? i'm 17 not 7 lol

🖋️ edwardianadvcnturess  Follow

He does the same with me! It's so utterly infuriating, why does he think just because I'm young I don't know what an orgy is?

🔫 thebrigadier Follow

I do believe he views all humans as deeply immature. I am nearing fifty now and he still patronises me whenever we meet.

❄️ icemaiden Follow

You're FIFTY??? No wonder the Doctor refuses to talk to you about such matters, that's practically cradle snatching. Or grooming.

⚰️ themaster Follow

hey didn't you lie about your age the first time you met the doctor? also you are literally 120. TIME TOT ☝️

❄️ icemaiden Follow

And you are literally a mass murderer. Go away.

⚰️ themaster Follow

you are like a little baby. watch this

*dies in his arms and he cries because he loves me unlike you who he could never love*

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

are you guys done yet or

#man what the fuck #is this like. time lord flirting

617 notes

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

Tell me why the Rassilon character study I was just reading has an author's note that says "Sorry I haven't updated in decades, I got kidnapped and tortured by Daleks for twenty years!" Are all Mo3 users like this or is it just r*negades

🧶 elizabethtudor-blog Follow

Isn't this what happened to the president of Gallifrey?

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

First of all, get off my post, I specifically have it in my DNI that humans are blocked on sight. Second of all,

WHAT?

👑 fred Follow

well what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament dare i ask

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

None of those words are in the Matrix.

#What in Rassilon's name is a sacrament

132 notes

🗡️ worsthumanongallifrey Follow

it's always the little things in life. for example today i discovered that the writer behind all those doctor/romana fics on mo3 is none other than romana herself

#but does she write anything about me #nooo #no she does not

550 notes

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Having a lovely coffee date with Harry to celebrate twenty years of the Doctor abandoning me! For some reason Harry hates it when I phrase things this way

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Only 3 people died this time, it sounds terrible but I was hoping for something more interesting in all honesty

#the cafe didn't even explode or anything this time round #last time we had to pick up the dismembered bits of several corpses. much more fun #on the other hand Harry had to take his shirt off today (long story) #so that was fun #I mean it wasn't even really necessary but shhh he doesn't need to know that #eternally glad someone else is willing to put up with my nonsense (exploding fish-puma alien hybrids)

12 notes

🚬 fitz-crier Follow

nneed himmto fied merinto a pjper shrrder thrgn eastthe paper until wahts ke and whsts him is indenifinsble

📺 compassion Follow

I think he should not do that. Get help.

1 note

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

Repeat after me: your psychosexual obsession with an alien threat that wants to kill you is valid. Cosplaying as intergalactic mass murderers does not make you a bad person.

👑 fred Follow

if you make ONE MORE post glorifying cricket like this i may actually have to report you to the high council

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

Wait Romana I didn't mean it I'm sorry. I'll do anything. I'll unexplode Adric please don't report me to the High Council

👑 fred Follow

i'm not angry, i'm just disappointed.

✈️ donewiththisshit573 Follow

I'm angry! Stop fucking bringing up Adric when clearly none of you care about him!

⚰️ themaster Follow

what she said. be psychosexually obsessed with ME please please pretty please. i'll treat you right i won't report you to the high council i won't even kill you a little bit this time

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

You are pathetic.

#if you died right now I wouldn't even be sad I would be overjoyed

467,343 notes

[petew21-blog]

Second hand cigar

Halloween has passed, but some parties still had a costume party theme. For example Travis here, a very queer, blonde hair guy unable to find a good last minute costume. His queer friends specified, that it must be something straight-looking, destroying all his plans to go as one of his gay icons.

His look - bleached hair, round colourful glasses and his noticeable gay mannerisms complicated this task.

Travis decided to get inspired in the city, heading to the second hand costume thrift store. He dismissed the idea of going as someone in a uniform, revealing his chest, he was so shy about. The thrift shop manager came to assist him. Before he did, Travis noticed his homophobic looks he gave him, but decided not to make a scene. He really needed the costume.

The manager handed him a biker shirt. "Try it out. I got some other stuff here for you, that would fit you." Travis went to the booth to try it out. He took off his clothes, avoiding the mirror. The shirt slipped right on him, fitting him perfectly. Travis looked back at himself. "I feel so weird, egh. Straight people really have a weird taste."

Suddenly a hand moved the curtain. "It comes with a beanie, jeans and a jacket, I will get it ready for you, before you leave."

Travis felt a weird impulse in his head to take the hat from the guy. He put it on him.

Manager:"You look much better now, sir."

Travis felt as if his confidence was boosted somehow. He felt really good. But it scared him. He wanted to take off his new clothes to return them, but the manager noticed. "No, don't. I want you to have it."

Travis:"I... thank you. I don't know if this is the right fit."

Manager:"I'm sure it is. In fact, I think you look so good in it, I want you to keep it. Free of charge."

Travis struggled a bit financialy, so the fact that he wouldn't have to pay made him feel a bit calmer. "Really? Thank you so much."

They went to the cashier. Travis felt more and more confident in his new clothes. He didn't even notice, that he left his glasses in the booth.

Manager:"Ok, here is a bag for you. Oh, I see you're getting comfortable in your new outfit." manager pointed at Travis's hand in his pants

Travis was shocked to find his hand there, he didn't even notice that he did so. Actually he normally never would have done this. "I am so sorry, sir. I am not really sure what's happening to me right now."

Manager:"You're feeling great in your new costume. That's what this is. Ok, this should be all and you're set to go. By the way, I left a bit of a gift in the jacket for you to use later."

Travis thanked the manager and left the shop. He was so taken back by the fact that he was acting differently. He wasn't sure why, but there was no time to worry about that. There was a party he had to get to.

He threw the jacket in the backseat and sat in his car. He took off his new hat, but another shocked awaited him. "What the fact?! What happened to my hair?!?" his blonde hair turned to its original brunette. But that was not the only thing that changed, his beard grew a bit, giving him a scruffy look.

Travis looked at himself. If he wanted to pass as a straight biker, this would definitely be a good look for him. He didn't want to admit that out loud, but he kind of liked the new look, that the clothes gave him.

He remember the gift, the manager mentioned. He looked through the pockets of the jacket and found a few cigars. "What should I even do with this? I don't smoke..."

He played with the cigar in his hand and looked at his reflection. He placed it in his mouth and looked again. "Oh this looks even better. I'm gonna have the best costume out of all of them." he found a lighter in the same pocket a spontaneously light it.

Travis sat there, enjoying himself. The smoke filling his lungs and the car, the ash falling on his lap. He felt amazing. He didn't look like a fag anymore. He was a man now. Wait. Did he really think that about himself? What about his crush? His crush was a man. But he looked so much better as a biker now than before.

He looked at himself in his camre. He loved his new look. He wanted to be more and more confident. He loved this new rush that the clothes gave him. Maybe if he wore the jacket, he would feel complete. A proper MAN.

Travis reached to the back, the cigar still in his mouth. The jacket smelled like an ollder musky man. Travis was hard now. He was about to wear some other man's clothes. He was gonna be in the clothes that another man was.

The jacket was on and Travis was finally happy. His look was complete. Screw the party. He should be in a bar showing himself off to other people.

But while those tiny transformation took place, something else was happening. Travis didn't notice, that his will was weaker, someone wanted to have a turn in the spotlight. To control this new straight biker body. Travis, drunk by the confidence just simply let go. The force didn't feel dangerous, no. Something that made him feel this good wanted to enjoy the goods too.

Travis closed his eyes, but someone else opened them instead. An ominous gold glow appeared in Travis's eyes for a second.

"Daddy's home." the stranger said in Travis's voice making his voice sound deeper than before. He gave the cigar a large puff and then exhaled.

The stranger immediately grabbed his bulge.

"The fuck... he could have picked a better one. Mine was bigger." he looked at his reflection now.

"Not bad. Gonna give you some improvements and maybe I could keep being you."

Travis's body dialed a phone number. The name of the costume shop appeared above it.

"Hey, guess who's back?!"

Manager:"Finally. I wasn't sure he wouldn't throw the clothes away."

Stranger:"What happened to the original plan, huh? You promised me a hot jock to turn into a biker. This one looks like a fairy."

Manager:"He is one. But that makes it even better, right? We'll get to cancel out some votes as well. Anyway, go to my appartement. The rest of your stuff is still there."

Stranger:"Thank you, brother!"

2 weeks later

Travis was long gone. Or at least that's what Travis's friends told each other. It was something they told themselves to ignore the fact, that their originally queer friend was now a MAGA supporter and a cigar smoking, biker.

Fuck, Travis even changed his looks completely. Whatever happened to him changed him completely. He was now walking shirtless in a vest, very openly showing off his hairy chest, he shaved his head and even gave himself a goatee.

Meanwhile, Dale was now living his second chance at life. His brother helped him get a new body and turn it into a better version of him. He was happy to smoke cigars again, taste alcohol and fuck pussy as he did in his life before. So yeah, fuck the old Travis. Life is amazing!

A story for @hypnosmoke420 with his own original photos. How cool is that? :D

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 28 - GP! Winter x Im Nayeon

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: Yes, I'm waaaaayyy behind my schedule for Kinktober (Like a week behind) but istg i gonna post the all 31 works.

Also I know I said no more than two stories per idol, but things happened this days and I just had to write this. So that's why nayeon is here again.

And also I apologize if this feels a bit rushed, but is the best I can get this days. With all that being said, I let you with this nonsense.

Minjeong never thought that she would need to be on her knees in order to approve this class. She came to Professor Nayeon's office to ask, or beg if necessary, for a chance to earn some extra points to increase her grade and pass her class. Minjeong was thinking of something like extra homework, a special test, maybe even doing Professor’s laundry, but nothing remotely close to being on her knees with her face buried between Nayeon’s thighs.

Nayeon was sitting on her chair with her skirt lifted to her waist, no underwear, and one leg over her desk to give Minjeong more room to work. Minjeong for her part was on her knees, caressing Nayeon’s thighs, and with her tongue as deep as she could inside her professor’s pussy.

At this time of the day almost no one left on this side of the building, but nayeon still has one hand covering her mouth and the other playing with her student's hair. Despite the low chances to be discovered, never is good having moans coming out of a professor's office. 

Minjeong obviously was doing a good job, otherwyse her face wouldn't be covered on her professor’s slick. To be honest she isn’t that good at giving head but the adrenaline of eating a professor's pussy and also saving her class in the process, is giving her all the enthusiasm she needs to eat that pussy as if it were the last meal on earth. And her effort seems to have a good result because Nayeon uses the hand that was playing with Minjeon’s hair to maintain her head in place while she orgasm and cum in Minjeong face. 

The girl has to admit that her professor’s pussy tastes so good, one of the best she's ever had. Maybe she needs to ask for assistance more often, because if this is the way to pay she has no problem with that.

“Good girl.” Nayeon was panting but still was able to speak. “ But if you had put the same amount of effort into your classes as you did into eating my pussy then you wouldn't have needed it.” Minjeong opened her mouth to protest but Nayeon cut her words. “No, no.” She said moving her index finger from side to side in a negative gesture. “We Aren't finished yet.”

“But I ate you, and made you come.”

“I say we aren’t finished yet. Get your pants down, now.” Nayeon was a good professor and never acted this bossy during class, but people know that it is better not to mess with her. She can be peaceful most of the time, but if you get her mad then you're finished. Better just get back home and take that class next semester but with another professor. Luckily for Minjeong that wasn’t her case, she always paid attention in classes and had decent grades , but shits happens and now she is here. “Don’t make me repeat it.” Nayeon's gaze was stern.

Minjeong was kinda concerned but still obeyed her teacher, but since she only mentioned her pants she only pulled off that garment. Despiste that she ate her professor’s pussy just minutes ago, this makes her feel vulnerable. Her cute white panties were on display and did almost nothing to hide her erection.

“Oh don’t tease me.” Nayeon herself pulled Minjeong’s panties down revealing her small and semi erected dick. “Much better. Now turn around.”  Nayeon gave her one of those looks that told her that was a bad idea to protest or not obey, so Minjeong turned around really confused because initially she thought Nayeon was gonna suck her dick, or at least touch it. But apparently her teacher has another plan for her. “Now bend over my desk.”

This time Minjeong didn't need to hear it twice to obey. She put her elbows on the wooden surface as she bent over the said desk. “No, no, not like that. Spread that ass for me.” This earned Nayeon a confused look from Minjeong. “Did you thought I was to touch your little weeny?” A loud laugh came from the teacher. “Come on, my hand is bigger than your dick. If you want me to touch you then earn it.”

Not waiting for Minjeong to actually do something, Nayeon espread her butthocks revealing her small wrinkle entrance. “Wha.. what…” But Minjeong’s words were cut when she felt Nayeon’s tongue doing things to her anus. Teacher's tongue was doing circles over Minjeong’s sensitive anus  showing a lot of expertise, she definitely has experience doing this.

Minjeong wants to protest but the tongue on her ass is doing things to her strength and she can't resist, so she tries to stick her ass out to help her teacher to have more access to her dirty back entrance. And Nayeon takes advantage of that by sticking her tongue inside Minjeong, pushing and opening her ass with her wet and warm muscle. 

Minjeong, far from protest, is a whimpering mess. Having a tongue inside her ass and her butthock being held by Nayeon’s big hands make her hard. Her dick is throbbing against the desk and her balls are arching.  Is so pathetic that she’s close to cum just by her teacher eating her ass.

But suddenly Minjeong's ass feels empty. She wants to protest, she wants Nayeon tongue inside her again, but instead she gets something more.

God knows from where Nayeon takes a lotion bottle and pours some lotion on her hand, then her hands lands again on Minjeong’s ass. But this time instead of spreading her cheeks she massaged her anus. That little entrance is already so stimulated that nayeon easily slid a finger inside Minjeong. The girl is kinda hypnotized by her teacher actions because she don’t even think about to protest, even when she normally don’t get her ass fucked. The power nayeon has over her is so that Minjeon is now spreading her own butthocks to help her teacher. Maybe that gives her some more points.

“You’re hard but my hand is still bigger.” Nayeon laughs in her ear, finally touching Minjeong dick, and what she says is true. Girl’s dick is as hard as it can be but Nayeon's hand is easily covering it with balls included. In some way that makes Minjeong arousal go to the sky.

Another finger goes inside Minjeong anus. She already feel filled but Nayeon thing is time to really fuck her ass, so she start moving her fingers. Now both Nayeon’s hands are pleasuring Minjeong, one inside her ass and the other stroking her dick. Or most like grabbing and twitching her shaft while making fun of her size.

“You take my fingers so well. What a good girl you’re.” The mix between the compliment and the jokes about her size were really doing things to Minjeong. “If you take another finger I’ll allow you to cum. Want you?”

Minjeong's first response was a pathetic loud whimper. “I… I don’t Th-think I can take another.” Nayeon's hand leaves her dick and that makes her sad, but the other hand stays inside her anus. “Please, please. lee-t me cum.”

“Then be a good girl and take another finger.” Nayeon fingers were working extra hours on Minjeong ass to make her use to the intromission. She was opening her fingers inside Minjeong’s little entrance to gape her anus and make room for a third finger. 

“Ok… Ok. I’ll take it, but let me cum please.” Minjeong´s brain was already fried with all the unexpected pleasure she was getting from her ass and all she wants right now is to get some friction on her dick. When nayeon wasn't grabbing her she tried to grind against the desk, but that didn’t give her enough pleasure. She definitely needed Nayeon’s hand to make her cum.

“Good girl,” With a little bit of effort Nayeon puts her third finger inside Minjeong’s small anus. Her slender fingers feels so good against her warm walls, they were so long that were deeper than any other thing Minjeong had ever put on her ass. Also having three of them inside her ass makes her feel so filled. Having her anus this expanded was something really new to her.

Nayeon’s other hand came back to touch Minjeong’s dick, this time wrapping her fingers around the hard meat. While her work on the youngergirl ass was fast, really fucking her anus, the pace on her dick was more controled. Slow long pumps, or at least as long as her size allows, that had Minjeong’s shaft throbbing. The dual action was too much, and that added to the fact that Nayeon was complimenting her for taking her finger so well has Minejong at the very verge of the orgasm. But for some reason he knew she wasn't allowed to cum till her teacher gave her the direct order to do so.

Now the girl was holding the desk edges tightly till the point her knuckles turned white. The pleasure was so much that it was overwhelming. She was releasing patetic whimpers while her teacher was stuffing three fingers inside her stretched anus. “Good girl, you earned it. You can cum now.” Nayeon whispered to her ear and that was all she needed to stop holding her orgasm and pour out her cum on her teacher’s hand.

Minjeong released the desk and used her hands to cover her mouth as best as she could. After all they still were inside Nayeon’s office and her whimpers could get them to be caught, that would definitely end with her being expelled from college and Nayeon being fired. For that Minjeong tries to hold her whimpers, but didn’t help that nayeon still where fucking her ass while she was cumming, filling the big hand whit her hot milk. And even when it was a bit uncomfortable having her anus so stretched was also a very pleasant orgasm, even her legs were shaking for the pleasure and overwhelming feelings.

“Good girl. You did it so well.” Nayeon finally pulls her fingers out of Minjeong’s anus, leaving her entrance full open and feeling empty. “Actually you deserve more than a few points.” Minjeong's orgasm was so good that she had blurred vision. “If you can take my fingers again in the future I’ll let you pass my class with an A+.” Nayeon uses her panties to clean Minjeong´s cum from her finger while circling the desk to face the girl.” We call it a deal?” The teacher asked with her characteristic big smile, acting as if she hadn't just fucked one of hers students in the ass just moments ago.

[keitorin3]

Short: Finding Merlin

Arthur: What do you mean you can't find Merlin?

Leon: I mean we can't find him, Sire. We've asked all the servants and before you ask, yes we've checked the Tavern.

Arthur: *Paces* Then search the forests I want him found understood!?

Leon: Yes Sire. *Walks out the door but hears the King mutter*

Arthur: *mutters* Idiot thinks he can escape this marriage... Ha just wait until I show him his wedding robes, he'll look like a noble and absolutely hate it. 👰🏻‍♂️

Leon: *suffers and leaves quickly*

Gwaine: So what did the princess do this time?

Leon: Apparently he gave Merlin his mother's sigil awhile back and Merlin only just found out, thanks to Gwen, what a noble offering a sigil means to their intended.

Gwaine: No way! The princess proposed marriage to Merlin without even telling him?!

Leon the long suffering: Indeed. Merlin is a commoner and while he has improved since he first arrived here, he still doesn't know all the intricacies of nobility.

Gwaine: So Merlin got mad and went off to who knows where?

Leon: It would seem.

Gwaine: How long do we have before his royalness starts going off to find Merlin himself?

Random Servant: *Shouts* The King is gone!

Gwaine: ... 😅

Leon: ... 😭

Merlin: *Returns dragging an unconscious and dirty Arthur on horseback*

Gwen: Oh, what happened? Did you get attacked? Are you both OK? Where have you been Merlin? Everyone has been looking for you.

Merlin: I'm ok Gwen, I went to talk about something important. Nothing bad happened, I left a note with Gaius on where I went.

Elyan: Ah, he got called on an emergency birth with one of the down town ladies, hasn't been back yet.

Merlin: *Huffs* And so that was reason for this idiot to go off and start a kingdom wide hunt for me? The Dollphead...

Gwen: *sigh* We did try to tell him he was being a bit paranoid. But he thought after your argument on the sigil he might have scared you off... *Looks to the unconscious King resting on the horse* What happened to him?

Merlin: Pfft, *smirks* the King fainted.

Elyan: He... Fainted...

Merlin: Yup. I found the idiot riding like a madman and when he finally calmed down enough to actually listen to me I told him I just went off to talk with Kilgharrah and Aithusa.

Gwen: Ok, that explains where you went, but then what happened to make Arthur faint?

Merlin: Aha, well... 😅

[BEFORE, IN THE FOREST]

Arthur: So what was it that you need to talk to dragons for? Did you get your answers? *Trying and failing not to stare at Merlin while walking beside him*

Merlin: Hmm I did *Reaches out to grasp Arthur's hand and paused their walking*

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: *Breathes deeply before taking something from his pocket and into Arthur's hand*

Arthur's heart dropped when he felt a round shape of a coin and it showed in his eyes what he believes this to be.

Merlin: *Noticed Arthur's sudden sad mood, rolled his eyes* Dollphead, opened your hand before jumping to conclusions! 🙄

Arthur: *Opens hand* Wait, is this...

Merlin: *Squirms and fidgets* I wanted to ask Kilgharrah about Dragon Lord Courting triditions. And well, he wasn't too informed in that but knew of Dragon Lords giving a Dragon scale as gifts and I asked Aithusa for one of hers, being her Dragon Lord after all... And well he said I could shape it, so I used my magic to carve it and well, being a dragon lord and you a Pendragon I thought why not Twin dragons?

In Arthurs hand was a white-silver sigil that shines faintly with Twin dragons circling each other and behind them he recognises the druids triskel symbol.

Arthur: *In Awe and too speechless for words*

Merlin: It also is embedded with my magic and acts like a... Connection between us. I'll be to find you as long as you have it and you'll be able to find me. My magic would guide you. Maybe then you won't have to go on a kingdom wide search for me. *Laughs*

Arthur: *Smiles* Heh, so a Merlin Finder? About time, do you know how hard it is to find idiot warlocks lately?

Merpin: *Smiles fondly* Prat.

Merlin: *Looks serious* That's not all either. Arthur, your a prat and a dollop head. I know I tell you you're always a bit thick in the head but I never knew how much until I realised the significance of your mother's sigil. You had to go about proposing to me in the most infuriating way without even telling me.

Merlin: But I know more then anyone how good of a man you are, how much you work to be fair to your people. And the thought of you having those kind of feelings for me was too good to be true. Because I would have said yes. Always I'd say yes. I feel like I was born to love you Arthur. Prophecys and destiny may play a part, but I would always chose you.

Arthur: *Dumbfounded*

Merlin: *Rolls his eyes* I'm proposing cabbagehead. I'll marry you. ❤️💍

Arthur: ... 😳🤯💞 *Faints and falls into a puddle*

Merlin: ...

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Merlin: *Blushes with a laugh* I accepted his proposal. He ended up going into shock after and fell over into a small puddle.

Gwen: Oh! 😃 Merlin I'm so happy for you!

Elyan: Yeah, cheers mate. *Mutters to himself* Thank god all the pining is over.

Arthur: *Wakes up* I had the most fantastic dream! Merlin gave me a sigil and accepted my proposal~!

Merlin: *Speaks from the fireplace* It wasn't a dream Arthur!

Arthur: 😍 You love me! 💖

Merlin: 🙄❤️ *Walks up and kisses Arthur* Yes I do.

Arthur: 💘🥴💕 Merlin Loves me~! Merlin will marry me~

Merlin: *Fond and in love* 🥰

The (Merlin's) Knights: FINALLY!

Castle Servants: FINALLY!

All of Camelot: FINALLY!

Kilgharrah: The two halves have finally become one.

Aithusa: *Chirps*

[starberry-cupcake]

if my silly recaps and my reactions bring a small smile to your face or remind you of a book you love in these trying times, it's all worth it ♥ I'm hugging you softly and telling you I'm here for you ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

EPIPARODOS

9 months and 29 days before the emperor's murder

I need you all to know I'm reading all of these announcements of time stamps for the emperor's murder like this

I spent these past 2 days marinating on this time stamp and making math in my head with the fact that harrow told palmolive that he's been in his river loft for 8 months

and being like "is this gonna be the Explanation????"

sort of

remember when I said harrow was probably the one who did the mind tampering or, at least, it was done with her consent?

I WAS CORRECT

I also said maybe it had to do with the emperor and his murder but that's not yet been clarified

harrow is asking yandere twin to help her do a brain procedure to forget stuff

for reasons that will be partially disclosed later

basically, it's like if she was asking her to cut her hair for her, but more metal

yandere twin also sort of dunks on palmolive and harrow goes like "you wash your third house filthy mouth before talking about my bestie palmolive sextus like that"

she didn't say that word by word, she said "I may have been Sextus's necromantic superior; but he was the better man. You are not even so worthy of that brain as to wipe its bloodied remnants from the wall."

which is kinda similar in concept

camilla would have high-fived her for that one

yandere twin is trying to convince harrow not to do the brain hair cut because it's dangerous and potentially useless

as if that has ever stopped someone from the ninth from doing crazy shit

harrow tells yandere twin that if she thinks becoming a lyctor doesn't mean they're more trapped than ever, she's delulu

harrow also exhibits one golden eye

and I'm like WAS GIDEON SLURPED IN THE END???? I WAS HOLDING OUT FOR HOPE!!!!

yandere twin says "time to absolutely fuck you up"

cue brain makeover montage with this song

please imagine it with that song, I need you to see my vision

I swear it's very important

I didn't mention it before but this chapter was narrated by yandere twin

sponsored by chad aka babs aka nebarius...was it nebarius or naberius? anyway

she says that harrow's brain makeover is a "destructive, romantic, ridiculous act"

I sure hope so

she also says she's gonna marry harrow, but probably not

I sure hope not, because it's not my ship, yandere twin, I'm sorry

I like you, but not for harrow

ACT FIVE

CHAPTER 40, 41, 42

I'm grouping these all together because they're a ~theme~

the fact that the titles of them are like ?????????? is very much the spirit of these recaps

thank you, author, I see your vision

these are other aus, much like the canaan house gideon-less au, but with different scenarios

first au has a broken IX skull, it takes place in the ninth and harrow is called "nova" instead of "nonagesimus"

in it, she's fighting ortus, or attempting to

because harrow wants ortus to give her the spot of cavalier primary

which is very regina george twin and chad behavior, they had a similar situation going on, but they resolved it with biting

as you do in the third house

(I just wached a yt video in which a person was called 'babs' and they said the name so many times it's starting to make me want to name chad correctly)

(it's fixing my brain)

she also mentions a Reverend Daughter who isn't her

she doesn't seem to like the other reverend daughter, even if she stepped in to intercede for her at one time, and ortus and her argue about it until crux comes in

it's giving gideon and harrow switching spots, in a way, although gideon never wanted to be cavalier primary

neither did ortus

regina george twin is the only one fighting for that spot

she is made to go and apologize to two pilgrims standing there and, when she does, it's abby and magnus from the fifth

and abby says "this isn't how it happens"

our favorite phrase

next au has a V broken skull and takes place in a ball

there is a Divine Highness who is looking for a bride and this is a dance to present suitors to her

the sixth house isn't dancing or joining in on the party, wich is another tick on my personal checklist of my favorite house

idk if there's a quiz of which house you're in but I hope I'm that one

*me getting the second and having to erase my memory like harrow*

abby and magnus show up once again and magnus is eating the food and complimenting harrow on how accurate it is

ortus is with them too, because polycule

they all wanted to see where this au led (actually, me too) but, you know what they say

say it with me:

"this isn't how it happens"

42 is a broken IV skull

this one is, at the start, a sort of military au

the kiddies from the fourth show up, remember them?

they're still talking in whispers among themselves

so cute ♥ I'd say protect them at all costs, but we already failed at that

the important part of this one is that it turns from a military au into a coffee shop au

and there's a BARI star (puns!)

"the arms beneath the rolled-up sleeves betrayed lean, taut muscle, a little dewy with sweat and steam from the mess. But it was the face that sent her neurons in a thalergetic spin. When Harrowhark looked at that face, she found a curious heat travelling all the way up from the pit of her pylorus to the high collar of her Cohort shirt. It then traversed her cheeks, her nose, her brow, her temples. The other officer smiled a firm-jawed, long, crooked smile at her; Harrow was electrified by the fact that beneath the hastily brushed crop of red hair those eyes were—"

(the fact that my playlist started 2 become 1 from the spice girls right now is actually incredibly funny)

AND ABBY GOES "Absolutely not"

ABBY NOOOOOOOOOO

ABBY LET ME HAVE THISSSSSSSS

LET ME HAVE A COFFEE SHOP AU INTERLUDE AS A TREAT

I DESERVE IT

WE ALL DESERVE IT

CHAPTER 43

GIDEON FRACTURED SKULL PEOPLE

AVIATOR GLASSES, CROSSED OUT IX, CRACKED SKULL

one night before the emperor's murder

we're connecting the timelines

ortus's polycule is arguing about the previous scenarios and whether or not "that was..." while harrow wakes up

abby promptly shoos everyone out of the room

FOLKS LISTEN TO THIS NOW

LISTEN TO THISSSSSSS

"If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten. Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee. Griddle."

I'M IN P A I N

I'M IN S H A M B L E S

(my playlist decided on hoobastank's the reason now lmao what is happening with the 90s/early2000s playlist tonight)

OK OK EXPOSITION TIME

sort of, you know how it is

harrow remembers gideon and cries for her as we all do

abby is asking her questions and gives her one minute to mourn

so, harrowcita decided to do the hair cut brain procedure to separate the part of her brain that remembered and understood gideon's soul

accoding to her, it was "a brute-force solution but it worked"

very gideon behavior, we love that

abby points out that harrow is also very much haunted by an invasive soul

harrow's like ?????????????????????????? on top of everything else?????????

I'm wondering if this is ice cube barbie????? not sure

abby explains that harrow is possessed by an angry spirit and that she's losing against it

ice cube barbie sure has reason to be angry if she wants to, she had to put up with doctor reverend emperor john's bs

also, the canaan au is harrow's form of palmolive's bachelor loft, the bubble in the river thing

she made an au in the river and brought on all her ghostie ghoulie friends to populate it

abby tells her that she didn't remove her memories of gideon, she re-wrote and re-touched them with ortus, which is why he was invited, and she also filled in spaces of some people (people who weren't dead) with constructs

harrow says "what a waste of a woman, to have ended her life at the bottom of a ladder"

RIGHT???? she was killed so book 1 could be longer, otherwise it would have been solved in 2 minutes, no wonder she's the top in the polycule

apparently also a lot of what's happening at this canaan au has been modified by this invasive spirit that's haunting harrow

harrowcita tells abby who's alive, abby says regina george twin should have been the lyctor

NOW WAIT A MINUTE THERE

yandere twin and I don't see eye to eye on everything but I get defensive if someone's trashing her abilities in comparison to her sister

also "The Master Warden found the idea of dying inconvenient"

I love that chad catches a lot of strays when he isn't there but palmolive gets a lot of compliments when he isn't there

did they ever interact one on one btw? I don't remember, it feels like a jock vs nerd situation

wait, are they a ship???

why am I asking this now IT'S NOT THE TIME

harrow starts quoting gideon ♥ "as her—cavalier—might have put it, absolutely butt-fuck nothing happened"

we love that, so poetic

harrowcita basically can't leave her canaan bubble now because she's in the river due to the fight that was going on with the beast and whatnot

abby says that the canaan au happens when harrow is asleep, unconscious or just disconnected from outside stimuli

harrow tells her about the beast and how she was brochetted out there

abby says that she's not dead yet because, if she was, her soul would be gone forever and they need to ensure her body survives

harrow asks herself "what is happening out there?"

WOULDN'T WE LIKE TO KNOW

BUT WE WON'T KNOW YET

because I have immense willpower and knew this was the right time to stop reading, otherwise this recap would be awfully long

gonna put "strong willpower" in my cv to see if the sixth house accepts me

see you in the next one very soon!!! be safe and take care of yourselves ♥