#I'm not a particularly nice person; I'm polite

[medicinemane]

I mean, lets say I manage to get the house cleaned up, what do I get?

I get a clean house

And like... obviously that's something, that's enough in and of itself, but man... sometimes I just... I want something, anything

All that work on cleaning out the trailer and all I got was to get rid of the trailer, which did a lot for me but at the same time... I'd really hoped maybe I'd be able to use some of the money from selling it to take a little trip (it was worthless, there was no money), or that I could some how leverage that in to a chance to have some company... no

It benefited me, there's no way I'd even want to pretend that my life isn't much better without that trailer (I'll still have nightmares where I've got to go clean and move a bunch of stuff out of it)

In many ways though, talking about feeling wise, what it felt like was that getting rid of the trailer earned me the right... to try and clean out the rooms I'd piled stuff from the trailer in

Doing that... got me a room that... like it's way nicer having it clean, but it's just an empty room

Getting all the non specialized rooms cleaned out... it's obviously good but like... what's it done for me other than made it so all I have left is to go through stuff which is so hard fro me

I don't want to sound ungrateful for having a cleaner house... in part if I'm blunt and honest, because I fear somehow being punished for it, but also because it is nicer to go through the rooms now they're cleaner

But like... lets say I succeed, which isn't something I do, but lets say I did. Lets say I get the house totally fixed up and a good income and I can work on my garden and teach a bit out of my basement... how will it really be any different from now, and how is now really that different from when I first got my house

I'm still utterly alone, except for being stuck taking care of my mom who... I really wanted to get away from her so bad, and totally failed. I don't know... fill in the blank for me, and not just with some magical "it'll be better"

What will have changed?

Not saying I won't continue to flail towards that incompetently like I have been at my pathetically slow rate, but I'm just saying... what shred of evidence is there that doing any of that will change anything?

Virtue is it's own reward, as in... it literally is a reward in and of itself. The house being clean is the reason to clean the house but... I no longer am able to believe that anything but isolation awaits me... what evidence is there to counter this view

[ariaste]

so i'm reading Interview With the Vampire for the first time in twenty years and this shit is SO FUCKING FUNNY like. god.

like there you are, being louis, having your beautiful elegant grief over the death of your brother and this random vampire partially eats you on your doorstep one night and then rocks up the next night pretending to be a Really Cool Elegant Suave Guy like "bonjouuuuur do u want to be a vampire [drapes self elegantly all over the room] i could do that for you" and then you're like "wow okay [privately noticing all the hot things about him]" and then he makes you a vampire and you're like "wow he is holding me like a lover and i have some unspecified Feelings about it, he is radiant, he is so beautiful, golly" and then to everyone's disappointment but particularly yours, this allegedly cool suave elegant vampire proceeds to immediately drop the act and reveal that he is the least cool person who has genuinely ever existed, in fact he is absolutely intolerable and a Whole Ass Moron, and all you can do is stare in incredulity and mounting contempt as he blithely installs his REAL DAD in your house without asking or even communicating in advance that he HAD a dad (you are bewildered to discover that vampires have dads or at least this weirdo does for some reason???), and starts spending your money like he's the sugar baby in this situation (and to your horror you realize that he IS ACTUALLY THE SUGAR BABY IN THIS SITUATION, HOW DID HE CON YOU INTO THIS) and you're immediately like "fuck fuck fuck fuck i've made a huge mistake" and start keeping an eye out for any local vampire divorce lawyers and making a mental note of every single wrong he commits so that a couple centuries later you can bitch about them to a random reporter you just met like

oh the bitching, oh the sass. "had he any native intelligence" i'm crying. "characteristic lack of common sense" not even the common sense god gave a gnat, yeah wow ur right. "i was tempted to say 'yes you are', but I didn't" YOU SHOULD HAVE, BABE, YOU WERE JUSTIFIED god the moral high ground here is two inches high

And then there's this whole tangent about "yeah and then after a while Lestat got this fang-crush on this random neighbor boy -- you know, like when you see a random neighbor boy and you reeaaaaaally want to eat him?? anyway i told him not to eat the neighbor boy, including physically wrestling him in the rain to keep him from pouncing on the neighbor boy while the neighbor boy was having a little rapier duel with someone, but lestat was wily and slippery and uh well that was it for the neighbor boy" like god lestat is so fucking stupid (affectionate), he's LITERALLY going around louis' house like ":) wow you have nice plates. and glasses! I miss glasses. wait i know I'LL PUT A RAT IN THE GLASS [hunts around in the grass for a rat while Louis watches in bewilderment from the window] [gets a rat] [pours the rat into the glass] [elegant sip] [complains that it gets cold too fast] [inexplicably smashes the glass when he's done with it?????? for vibes i guess?????]" the exasperation. the outrage. this is not what Louis signed up for. he thought HE was going to be the sugar baby. he thought he was getting swept off his feet and Romanced and shit. where is the hot vampire who was like "oooh louis let's be together forever" and why has he been replaced with this blond moron in his house, breaking his THINGS, having a dad who he yells at???? and being very polite to guests actually

like. pals Lestat was the original cringefail emo poser boyfriend and none of us deserve to stand in his presence. Louis is so embarrassed to have ever associated with him. this book is a comedy.

tbh tho raise a glass for lestat tho who wiggled his lil self into New Orleans like "step one, find sugar daddy to keep track of my money :))))) and marry him" like yeah he's embarrassing to know but to his credit the man DOES know how to invent and execute a plan with impressive efficiency while vastly outmaneuvering anyone with allegedly more common sense, so who's the real moron in this situation, hm???

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Healing together

Hii, I hope you enjoy this story. Before you begin reading, I want to make something very clear: in no way am I romanticizing mental health problems. I understand how serious these issues are, and my intention is not to glamorize or trivialize them in any way.

My goal with this story is to bring attention to mental health, to encourage understanding and empathy, and to show that these struggles are real and valid.

Lando is tired, tired of everyone being on his business, of dating rumours of him appearing every week, of comparing himself to his colleagues, or even when he is surrounded by people still feeling alone.

That's why his visits to his psychologist have risen these last months, but he feels better after them not only for the medical help he is receiving but because of them Lando feels as if he has found a source of happiness in the less expected place.

Lando walked out of his psychologist’s office, feeling a little lighter than when he’d walked in. The sessions had been tough lately, but he could feel them slowly chipping away at the heaviness weighing on him for so long. Today was no different. He had spoken about his fears, his frustrations, and the intense scrutiny he felt under the constant watch of the media and fans. His psychologist had listened intently, offering guidance and strategies to help him cope. It wasn't an immediate fix, but it helped. As he turned the corner in the narrow hallway leading to the building’s exit, he suddenly collided with someone, almost knocking them over.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, reaching out instinctively to steady the person he’d bumped into. His hands brushed against a woman's arm, and he quickly drew back, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” she replied with a soft smile, smoothing out the crease on her sweater. Lando noticed the sparkle in her eyes, the gentle way she carried herself. She was around his age, and there was something about her that made him pause. “I should have been paying more attention,” she continued, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks.

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Lando said, smiling back. He felt a strange flutter in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just startled,” she laughed lightly. “I’m here for an appointment,” she added, nodding towards the door Lando had just exited.

Lando recognized her. She had been in the waiting room a few times when he arrived for his sessions. They had exchanged polite nods before, but they had never spoken. There was something about her that intrigued him—a quiet presence that seemed to draw him in, even in the brief moments they shared in passing.

“Same here. I mean, I was just here for one,” Lando responded, feeling a bit awkward but curious about her. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself, offering his hand with a friendly grin.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, shaking his hand.

Lando nodded, feeling a flutter of excitement in his chest. "Nice to officially meet you, Y/N."

From that day on, their encounters in the waiting room became a highlight of Lando's visits. They started talking more, sharing little bits about their lives. He learned that Y/N was an artist, her world filled with colours and canvases, while she learned about his passion for racing and his struggles with the spotlight. He found solace in their conversations, a break from the chaos of his life.

Between visits, Lando found himself thinking about Y/N more and more. Her laugh, her kindness, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. She was different from anyone he had ever met, and he found himself looking forward to their brief moments together, the connection they shared growing stronger with each passing day.

One day, after a particularly challenging race weekend, Lando walked into the psychologist's office, his thoughts swirling with frustration and disappointment. But as soon as he saw Y/N sitting there, his mood lifted. She was sketching something in her notebook, her focus intense.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, sliding into the seat next to her.

Y/N looked up, her face brightening when she saw him. "Hey, Lando. How did the race go?"

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not great, honestly. But seeing you here makes it a bit better." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N blushed slightly, a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks. I'm glad I can help, even if it's just a little."

Over the next few weeks, Lando's feelings for Y/N grew. He admired her strength, her resilience, and the way she approached life with a quiet courage that inspired him. And as he got to know her better, he realized he wanted to be more than just a friend to her.

It was after a particularly good race that Lando finally decided to take a leap. He had won, and the high of victory was still coursing through his veins as he walked into the psychologist's office, hoping to see Y/N.

To his delight, she was there, sitting in her usual spot, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Hey, Lando! I heard about the race. Congratulations!" she said, her excitement genuine.

"Thanks, Y/N," Lando said, his heart racing as he gathered the courage to say what he'd been thinking about for weeks. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Y/N's smile faltered slightly, her eyes flickering with a hint of apprehension. "Oh? What is it?"

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. This was it—the moment he had been building up to ever since he first met her. "I was wondering… would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and for a long, agonizing moment, she was silent. Lando's stomach twisted, anxiety gnawing at him as he wondered if he had misread all the signs. Had he pushed too far, too fast?

Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lando, I… I really like you, but…"

"But what?" he asked gently, his brow furrowing in concern. Her hesitation made his heart clench, his mind racing through every possible reason she might be pulling away.

Y/N looked down at her hands, her fingers nervously twisting together. Her eyes were shadowed with fear, a fear she had tried so hard to keep hidden. "I come here because… I'm scared of falling in love. I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to get my heart broken again. I… I didn’t expect to feel this way about anyone, especially not you."

Her confession hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of her past. Lando’s chest tightened, his heart aching for her. He could see how much it cost her to say those words, to admit to the pain that still lingered in her heart.

Lando reached out, his fingers gently brushing against hers before he took her hand, holding it tenderly in his. "I understand, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "I know how it feels to be scared, to worry that opening up will just lead to more hurt. But I promise you, I would never intentionally hurt you. If you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never feel that way again."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears she was trying so hard to hold back. There was a wariness in her gaze, a deep-seated fear of letting herself believe in the possibility of something good, something real. "You really mean that?"

"I do," Lando replied earnestly, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. "I like you a lot, Y/N. More than I thought possible. And I think we could be great together. But I don’t want to rush you or push you into anything you’re not ready for."

Y/N's breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She wanted to believe him, to trust in his words and in the warmth she felt whenever he was near. But the scars of her past were still fresh, the fear of falling only to be caught by nothing but empty air still too real. She bit her lip, trying to steady herself.

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat as she tried to find the courage to let herself take this leap. Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between the desire to protect herself and the yearning to let herself hope again. As she looked into Lando's eyes, she saw the sincerity there, the raw, unguarded emotion that he had laid bare for her.

And despite the fear, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to pull back, to protect herself, she felt a spark of something else—a small, fragile spark of courage. A tiny flame of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be something different. Something worth risking her heart for.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice trembling with the weight of her decision. She squeezed his hand, holding on to him as if he were the lifeline she needed. "I'll give it a go. But please… be patient with me. I’m scared, Lando. Really scared."

Lando's face softened, his expression one of tender understanding. "I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here, every step of the way. We’ll take it slow, as slow as you need. One step at a time, okay?"

Y/N nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she let herself believe, just for a moment, that maybe she didn’t have to face her fears alone. "One step at a time."

And as they sat there, hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, they both felt a surge of something new—something that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. It wasn’t just about the promise of a date or the thrill of new romance; it was about finding comfort and courage in each other, about taking a chance on something that might just heal the wounds they both carried.

Together, they were ready to face whatever came next, one tentative, hopeful step at a time.

[myfictionaldreams]

Hear me out! How about Mafia Steve rogers having hate sex with reader because they were having an argument and reader had attitude. He fucks her like i need to dicipline you, you little brat and she is calling him daddy.

I'm Bored! // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request! ♥ I hope you like this!

Side Note: This isn't a part of the mafia!stucky universe, just wanted to clarify that lol

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, spanking, ripping clothes, degradation, praise kink, size kink (!), desk sex, creampie, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, pretty behaviour, slight misogyny/stereotypes, hairpulling, fingering, exhibitionism, slight subspace

Words: 2.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“I know what you’re doing”. Steve slammed his phone onto the desk as his nostrils flared, eyes glaring with an intensity that any sane person would have backed away with their head lowered in submission.

It seemed you had a death wish today as you smirked and continued to piss him off, wanting the exact reaction you were receiving from your Mafia boyfriend. Stomping your foot and clenching your fists, you continued in a shrill, high-pitched tone for an added effect that you knew would drive him into the depths of mental hell. ”I’m not doing anything! I just feel so trapped in this stupid box of an office!”

As you so politely described, this stupid box of an office was an executive suite in one of the skyscrapers that towered over Brooklyn that he could view from the ceiling-to-floor windows. The office had to be the biggest in the building, with enough space for his desk, sitting area, kitchen and a vastly sized table to fit at least 15 people for meetings specified for the mafia boss.

And yet, here you were, moaning about the size, knowing that there was nothing more extravagant or luxurious than his office. In your defence, it had been a long day of being out of the office, as Steve had to travel for hours across his city to check the quality of stolen goods and meet with many influential people with the hopes of selling said stolen items. It hadn’t been a particularly trying day for the most part, but you quickly became bored, especially as you had to remain quiet during these meetings.

From an outsider's perspective, you were meant to be the pretty timid girlfriend of the mafia boss. His eye candy. There to hang on his arm and warm his lap and nothing more. In reality, he had wanted you there so that you could be more involved in the gang, understand how the meetings work, and contribute to decisions once back to the office if you deemed the people trustworthy enough to work with.

The staying quiet aspect of your role was also just for your safety. If you talked, that was an open invitation for the powerful individuals to talk back, and you weren’t ready to be involved in those sorts of conversations just yet. Therefore, you were more than happy to remain Steve's silent, pretty girlfriend.

Today, however, you were feeling antsy from the lack of talking, stiff from sitting for so long and needy for something a little more exciting than hand-holding or sitting on his lap. Especially now you were in the comfort of the office and could really rile Steve up. Maybe you were being a brat, but you were so bored and frustrated you wanted to get your heart pounding and some sort of relief, so pissing Steve off was the best option for this.

“Stop trying to take your clothes off-! Fucks sake. Everyone out!” Steve ordered the guards stationed by the door, and they promptly followed his directions as they left with a slam of the door.

You pause, with one of the straps of your dress halfway down your arm, turning to face him directly with a wicked smile on your face. Oh, he was pissed, verging on genuinely being angry with the way the vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing.

“I hate when you get like this. We were having a nice fucking day, too”, he demands whilst beginning to remove his tie and jacket. You knew he didn’t mean it; he always loved being able to dominate you just as much as you loved being an irritating brat and getting on his last nerve.

Your cunt pulses in desire watching him closely, eyes blazing with excitement as you bite your lower lip to try and hide the unmistakable grin. “Was it a nice day for me or for you, Steve? Because it’s been a boring day for me. All I’ve been doing for hours is standing there and looking pretty. Do you know how boring that is? I want to live a little! My clothes feel too tight, too claustrophobic. I want to be free!”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but he does glare as he begins to undo the cuffs of his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms beneath. It was only as he rounded his desk that you began to back up, taking a quick step backwards, but they were no match to the giant strides of his long legs as he was in front of you in a matter of seconds. His chest bumped into yours, forcing you to continue backwards until your back was flush against the cool glass windows.

Steve towered above you, even with your black heels adding a few inches to your height; he always seemed to be a gargantuan man, adding warmth to your core. Looking up at his glaring face through your lashes and biting your lip, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Think you’re being cute by acting like this? Like a brat with all that attitude?” he snaps, reaching up to wrap his massive hand around your throat, not squeezing as such but just so that you stayed still and he could feel the thump of your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

“I think I’ve got the response that I wanted, so yes, I think I am being cute”, you say confidently whilst reaching for the bulge in his slacks to show just how turned on he was, squeezing it tightly and making it throb.

Steve’s eyes drop to your hand as he subtly thrusts into your palm, but as he looks back towards your face, you know he has something planned as it is his turn to smirk. “You said your clothes felt tight. Well, let’s change that Princess”.

The hand around your neck lowers to your hip, turning you around so your front is pressed against the window, forced to look out over the city of Brooklyn. Before you could even look over your shoulder to see what was next, your body was shaken as Steve gripped the left and right side of your dress and pulled, effortlessly ripping the red dress down the zip so it fell from your body. You were left in only your thong and heels, wholly exposed to the city below.

Steve’s hand is then suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder and forcing your chest to push up, your nipples perking from being pressed against the startingly cold glass.

“Does this make you feel any more free? You know I love it when people watch me touch you. Well, now we’ve got the whole city watching Princess”, Steve whispers as he runs his nose down your neck.

You shiver as he nudges the sensitive spot just below your ear, “Yes, Steve-”.

The hand in your hair tightens, “Excuse me?”

“Daddy”, you correct yourself quickly, “Yes, Daddy, thank you for making me feel more free and showing me off to everyone”.

He hums to himself, “I think it’s about time I should how to be more grateful and show a little less of this attitude you seem to have”.

“Yes, Daddy”, you say submissively, mind reeling with the anticipation and thrill of what's to come.

“Count for me and safe words to be used if needed”, he mentioned before continuing.

With one hair remaining in your hair, he presses your face against the window, not hard enough for it to hurt but also to make sure that you keep it in place. His other hand pulled back on your hips, perking your arse out for him. You were only vaguely aware of his plan as you heard the swatting of his hand through the air before the stinging impact as he spanked your arse cheek.

You jumped at the contact, but he always started light, not wishing to actually cause you harm and so that you could make it through the usual ten counts before checking in.

“One, thank you, Daddy”, you say sweetly, watching the glass in front of you fog up at your heated breath. With each spank, you made sure to count and thank him. Even though you’d been a brat, when he finally did snap like he was now, you were always on your best behaviour, taking whatever punishment he deemed necessary.

His palm connected with both of your cheeks, ensuring they both had equal attention and that the areas were hot to the touch and somewhat sore but not enough to bruise. You enjoyed the rough treatment so much that you were rolling your hips into his palm, feeling the wetness coating your thong and spreading over your labia.

“Ten, thank you, Daddy”, you softly say, your eyes closed and feeling the world becoming fuzzy around the edges as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hormones in your head to feel like you were experiencing your own personal high.

This was the reason why you always enjoyed pissing him off with a little bit of attitude and bratty behaviour; being drawn into a subspace mentally from the punishments was like a drug to you, one that Steve was more than happy to pull you into.

Overwhelming pleasure suddenly burst through your burning core as Steve pulled your thong string to the side and shoved two thick digits into your pussy, stretching you thoroughly.

“You’re so wet, such a desperate little slut aren’t you” he taunts whilst rocking his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often to prepare you for what you really want.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout whilst rolling your hips in time with his fingers as you whine, “Only your slut though, Daddy”.

Steve kisses your naked shoulder, showing some sort of soft intimacy, “That’s right, you’re just my little slut. Now how about you show me just how good you are for me and go and bend over my desk and spread your legs”.

The hand in your hair loosens enough that you can wiggle free and stumble over to the desk, kicking off the heels as if they were not helping the wobbly sensations in your legs. Steve was one step behind and reached around you to shove the papers cluttering his desk off and onto the floor. With the extra space, you could happily bend forward, resting your chest on the desk and widening your stance as Steve begins to unbuckle his belt.

Watching over your shoulder, you admired the lustful gaze of his bright ocean-blue eyes, the drag of his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked as if he wanted to eat you right then and there.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked whilst wiggling your hips invitingly to him.

Steve tries and fails to hide the smirk on his face. Reaching forward, he rubs with each of your arse cheeks, squeezing the sore areas until your mewling and begging for something more. As he stepped closer and continued to hold the string of your thong to the side, he looked you directly in the eyes as he spoke lowly, “I just want you to remember that you wanted me to get this riled up with that smart mouth of yours. Acting bratty has its consequences”.

Opening your mouth to try and sass him another way, all that came out was an exaggeratedly obscene moan, your eyes rolling back as Steve’s cock thrust deep within your cunt in one mighty thrust. The movement caused you to rock onto your tiptoes, having to push further onto the desk as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you completely. The warm, wet walls of your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the penetration, trying to milk him already, clinging to him within an inch of your life.

Your fingers wrap around the edge of the desk above your head, holding on to it as Steve withdraws. Half of the length inside of you retreated, only to slam back into you, causing your hips to bump into the table with the strength put behind the movement.

“Faster”, you demand as your forehead rests on the rest, eyes closing to focus on the overwhelming pressure in your core.

However, the sassy tone you used was not appreciated by the man nearly splitting you in half with his cock as his hand once again delved into your hair to pull your head back, causing a startled scream to replace the moans.

“You don’t get to decide how fast I fuck you, Princess”.

With your head pulled back in this position, you were now having to stare at the wall behind his desk, which had a narcissistic painting of him, given to him as a joke by one of his employees. Now, however, to your delight, you were able to stare up at his handsome face as he fucked you with deep, tauntingly slow thrusts.

With this pace, you could feel every single inch dragging along your sensitive walls, causing them to spasm and tighten on instincts rather than just taking a quick hard fuck that left you forgetting to breathe and seeing stares. The way Steve currently had you was more overstimulating and had your breaths coming out in short huffs.

Steve, it seemed, knew every little moan and hitch of breath that your body took, understood at which degree of tightness your cunt squeezed him in with just how close you were to orgasm. His hips stopped thrusting as you could have sobbed as that beautiful sensation faded into a light buzz rather than an overwhelming euphoria.

“Please- Please Daddy, I…I… I’m sorry for my attitude, Daddy” You managed to find the right words, internally praising yourself for coherently saying what Steve wanted to say as currently, the only words running through your mind were, ‘fuck me harder, Daddy’.

“That’s all I wanted you to say, Princess”, he praises lightly as one hand remains holding onto your hair and the other slips between the desk and your mound so that two of his fingers can massage your clit.

The burst of fire that pulsed through you was powerful, knees wobbling and whines turning into incoherent begs of the word ‘yes!” as Steve finally began to fuck you at the fast pace you’d been hoping for.

You came so quickly that the breath rushed from your body, and you became light-headed from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, though; he just continues to hold you in place, fucking you and playing with your clit until you came a second time.

Thankfully, Steve did too, grunting desperately as his hips snapped up one more time, and wetness came flooding out of your cunt as his seed seeped out and down your thighs. Carefully, he removed his fingers from your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently rested your face on the desk whilst massaging your scalp and kissing along the back of your shoulder blade.

As he moved up towards your neck, you sighed in contentment, turning your face to the side so that he could gently kiss your cheek and you could reach around to run your fingers through his short, blond hair.

“Get your frustrations out?” he asks quietly and softly into your ear.

Nodding your head, you blink tiredly back at him, “Yes, thank you. But now, I have no clothes, and I can’t walk”.

Steve chuckles against your skin, a beautiful sound that has your toes curling again, “Well, I did warn you”.

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'll protect you, princess au

masterlist

summary: you're the princess of the most important kingdom in the world. every illegal organisation in existence has it out for you, and after a particularly dangerous situation, that almost ended in your death, your parents have decided to give you a personal guard to protect you. what happens when this knight messes with every rule you've ever known?

pairing: knight Abby Anderson x princess reader

warnings: at one point it’s mentioned that being gay is forbidden (does that need a warning lol???) 

genre: fluff, forbidden love

words: 1634

a/n: I'm not even gonna pretend that I don't fantasise at night about me being a princess, and sneaking around with knight!Abby. could you even imagine?! Abby is literally a perfect knight. she's sweet and protective and strong and god I'm experiencing gay panic

I'm imagining this to be set in a more mediaeval world, like once upon a time :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Your father had always been a cautious man. Being the most powerful Royal family in the world came with its risks, and after you almost got killed last year, he had assigned you with a personal guard. 

You were a bit sceptical at first, yet your father assured you she was the best trained person in the entire country. With her protecting you, nothing could happen. She was strong, and she was well trained to be able to tell whether people were sketchy or not from a mile away. 

You still weren't sure, but you were quick to change your mind when you finally met her.

She was insanely attractive. She looked super strong, but when she went to introduce herself to you, she had the sweetest smile you had ever seen. She was polite, and yet she looked like she could lift you up and throw you down a cliff. To say she didn't make you feel things would be a lie.

She had been by your side for a few months now, and you couldn't deny how nice it was to be able to go out into the world without having to worry about people harassing you.

Abby was always there, no matter what you did. 

Whether you went horse riding, or decided to have a little picnic by the lake, Abby would join you, and she would either keep you company, or stand at a safe distance. Whichever you preferred at the moment. 

Today was one of the days that you felt like going out for a ride. The weather was great, and after the heavy rainfall you had been experiencing for the past couple days, you were craving some nice spring sunshine. 

“Are you almost ready, milady?” Abby asked after knocking and opening your door.

“I'm nearly finished,” you replied, pulling your boots on and making your way towards the door. “Will Arthur be joining us today?” you asked Abby. You were oblivious to the face she made. You figured she simply did not like Arthur, but to Abby it was so much more than that. 

Arthur had been the guy your parents had been pushing you towards.

You were growing up, and it was time for you to try and find a husband. Arthur was a prince who came from your neighbouring kingdom. His family was rich, and his people were pleased. His family was well respected, and because of this fact, your parents were greatly interested in a union. You, however, made no effort to show interest in Arthur, and so, your parents had decided to invite him over to your kingdom, to hopefully create a spark between you two.

It was safe to say that Arthur was head over heels for you, but you could not say the same.

He was kind, sure, but he was too sure of himself. He was convinced that every girl in the kingdom was obsessed with him, and that he was the greatest prince that the kingdom had ever seen.

Every time he made a comment about his greatness, you tried to kindly explain to him that what he was saying was probably not true. However, Abby was less kind, and every time Arthur made a comment that insulted either you, or any other girl, she was quick to shut him up.

Arthur didn't like Abby, and Abby didn't like Arthur.

“I believe I heard him say he's not very fond of horseback riding, ma'am,” Abby explained, knowing full well that she never made an effort to ask him.

You let out a sigh of relief. “That's a shame,” you said, trying, and failing, to hide your satisfaction.

“Shall we go then?” you asked Abby, who nodded and stepped aside, allowing you to exit your room and walk ahead as you made your way to the stables. 

Abby walked behind you, exactly three steps, like she always did. She wasn't too close, neither was she too far. You liked it that way, unaware of the fact that Abby liked it just as much. She felt at ease, knowing she was the one protecting you.

When you arrived at the stables, your horses were already prepared. You thanked the stable boy and took the reins of your horse, waiting for Abby to copy your actions.

She did, and together you walked outside.

“Where should we go today, princess?” Abby asked, getting onto her own horse after you had gotten onto yours. You simply shrugged in reply, looking out into the forest.

“I'm not too certain. We could, perhaps, just ride around, and see where we end up?” you suggested, looking at Abby for approval. She smiled.

“Of course, princess. That is a wonderful idea.” 

After riding around for a few hours, you ended up at a beautiful lake. The sun reflected off the water beautifully, and the grass field around the lake was breathtaking. You stopped there, getting off of your horse and tying it to a tree. 

Abby copied your actions, tying her own horse to the tree before following you towards the water. 

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Abby asked while she gave your side a slight nudge. 

You sighed, looking over the water to take a moment to collect your thoughts. 

“What do you think about Arthur?” you then asked Abby, who sighed and looked away from you, thinking about how to say what she wanted to say, without sounding too rude. 

“I think his family is rich, and that he is the textbook definition of the perfect prince,” Abby said, turning back to look at you again. “Why do you ask?”

You sighed, turning to face Abby as well. 

“I don’t think I want to marry him, but I don’t want to disappoint my parents. They appear to really like Arthur, and he seems kind enough, but he’s so full of himself. Besides that, I just don’t…” you stopped yourself, nearly spilling your deepest secret. 

Abby quirked her eyebrow, looking at you with much interest now.

“You don’t… what?” she asked.

You sighed again, turning your head away from Abby. 

“I am not attracted to him,” you said, hoping to satisfy Abby with your answer. Of course, she knew that that wasn’t what you were going to say. 

“Not attracted to him, or to guys in general?” Abby subtly questioned, patiently waiting for your answer.

You gasped, turning to Abby like she had just spoken of the devil.

“Abby! How dare you suggest such a thing. You know that is forbidden,” you corrected her, to which Abby just smiled kindly at you.

“It is just us two here. I promise you that whatever you tell me, I shall not tell another soul,” Abby promised, reaching for your hand and rubbing circles at the back of it. 

You sighed softly, gathering your courage before speaking again.

“Do you think it is wrong? To be attracted to the same gender, I mean,” you asked Abby, looking at her with questioning eyes. Abby simply shook her head.

“I don’t. Do you?”

You sighed once more, before nodding slightly. 

“I am not certain. I cannot deny these feelings I have. But I cannot let it hinder me from becoming the queen my people need. One day, I will have to make an heir. I will become queen, and I will need to have children. That’s just the way it is,” you explained. 

Abby smiled at you. 

“You know, when you are the queen, you get to decide that. You could make new laws, that would state that the next heir, wouldn’t have to be your bloodline. You could give someone else a rightful claim to the throne,” Abby suggested, and after thinking about it for a little while, you turned to her, nodding.

“In that case, I do prefer girls. I wish I could tell the one that I like…” you confessed, and Abby smiled. 

“You’re secret is safe with me, princess. And if we’re being honest here, I do prefer girls as well,” Abby confessed, chuckling at the way you head whipped around. 

“You do?!” you asked in surprise, and Abby nodded. 

“In fact, there happens to be a girl I like as well,” Abby told you, smiling at the hint of disappointment that flashed over your face. 

“You know, I think she likes me too,” Abby then continued, waiting to see your reaction.

“Will you tell her? Will she accept it?” you asked Abby.

“That depends. May I kiss you, princess?” Abby then asked, placing her fingers under your chin to get you to face her. 

You’re cheeks flushed to a bright red, but yet you still nodded, biting you lip while staring into Abby’s eyes, waiting for her next move. 

Slowly, Abby leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. After she pulled away, she smiled sweetly at you.

“And? Do you think she’ll accept it?” Abby asked you, smiling when you nodded excitedly. 

“I think she’ll be delighted to know you like her,” you responded, giggling when Abby gave you a small kiss on your cheek.

“We should go back to the castle. Your parents will start wondering where you are,” Abby then said. You looked around, noticing that the sun had already started setting. Your dinner would be prepared soon, and you knew how much your parents disliked you being late for dinner. 

“Do you think we’ll be able to share a moment like this again…?” you asked Abby carefully after you walked towards your horse, mounting it.

“Don’t worry, princess. There will be plenty of moments like this,” Abby assured you, climbing onto her own horse and following the way home. 

Maybe you feelings weren’t that scandalous at all. Maybe Abby was right. Perhaps you could bend the rules, should you become queen soon…

(Wouldn’t it be cute to make a part 2, with queen reader and Abby who find Lev, and assign him as the next heir 🫣)

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[dapg-otmebytheballs]

See, when other fans in our spaces don't back us up, don't engage in dialogue with us about general racism and orientalism, treat our posts talking about our issues as something to politely avoid and wait till it's old news etc, the fandom gets emboldened about saying hateful shit to us, about saying racist shit to us, and a lot more. And that's a collective responsibility, because people are feeling emboldened in your communities to be mask off racist and hateful, and you're being a bystander

I won't hide the name, because this person has come into my inbox to be hateful, you wanna be hateful you get blasted, that's on you. But I sure as hell am I gonna post that fucking sticker a thousand times more now since clearly not enough of you have seen it. Since clearly too many people are still hoping they can stay quite and vague about it and be seen as neither controversial not problematic, nice safe space in the middle there. Well, I'm not feeling particularly safe in your spaces but hey, I like to look on the positive side of things, at least all this has shown me who my allies are and who are completely fine letting this behaviour carry on, which at least is safer than to be left guessing.

Be better for fuck's sake, if there's people in your community on your posts on your tags etc etc feeling comfortable enough saying racist shit and sending hate to poc fans over pointing out racist behaviours maybe you should consider that vague posts about the general spectre of "racism" aren't gonna cut it with the solidarity when you avoid us like the plague while we talk directly about racism in this community. You're showing your face, no matter how much you think you may be flying under the radar rn

[dollfacefantasy]

Hiiii I was wondering if I could request smth along the lines of reader's old guy friend is in town from college and she has him over at her and Leon's apartment and he gets jealous so later he makes her sit there n watch as he jerks off so he can cum on her face and mark her as his 😭

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: an old friend of yours comes to visit, and leon gets a little jealous. he has to make sure you remember that you're all his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, masturbation, facial, praise, jealousy

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i hope this is what you were wanting! thank you for requesting :) sorry if leon comes across as slightly insane, ummm that's just how i get when i'm jealous so... as always, i appreciate the reblogs and comments oh so much <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz

“It’s so great seeing you again,” you say as you pour lemonade into two glasses. The liquid crackles over the ice cubes, and you pick them up and hand one to the man standing on the opposite side of the counter.

Chad, your old friend from college, had come for an unannounced visit this afternoon. You didn’t particularly want him here, but you were being polite and catching up, going through normal small talk.

“Yeah, so it’s been great working there. Fingers crossed it stays that way,” he says.

You respond with a cordial laugh and smile as you hear the front door to your apartment opening.

“Hey babydoll, I’m-” Leon calls as walks through the entry. His eyebrows raise when he sees the unfamiliar person standing in his kitchen. “Who’s this?”

“Babydoll? Very cute,” Chad says to you teasingly.

Leon narrows his eyes slightly. It was a minor change in his expression. Chad probably didn’t notice it, but you picked up on it immediately.

You walk over to him and tuck yourself against his side. “This is my friend from college, Chad,” you say and look up at him. You rub his side reassuringly, knowing that Leon could be a little… territorial. “Chad, this is my boyfriend Leon.”

“Nice to meet you, Leon,” Chad says.

“Likewise. I’m sorry to interrupt. I didn’t know you would be here,” Leon says. You eye him, silently telling him to play nice. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Neither did she. I’m just in town for the weekend, thought I’d stop by. Got her address from a mutual friend,” Chad clarifies.

“How nice,” he says. You hoped Chad took this as a normal interaction, but the clipped nature of Leon’s tone was pretty obvious.

“We’re just finishing up here, sweetheart. I know you’re probably tired from working,” you reach up and stroke his cheek, giving him a look that says what you’re really communicating, “You can go relax, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done.”

Before Leon can reply to you, Chad chimes in. “Don’t worry, big guy. Fifteen more minutes, and she’s back to being all yours.”

When did she stop being all mine? Leon wanted to answer. But he knew it would mortify you, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he lets out a forced laugh. 

“Have fun, babydoll,” he says to you, pulling you closer for a tighter hug and planting a kiss on your lips. With that, he walks off to your shared bedroom.

He shuts the door behind him and groans. He knew this was fucking stupid and immature, but god, he couldn’t help it when it came to you. He knew he could trust you, that you would never betray him like that. And he knew it should be embarrassing, all logic and reason being thrown out the window in favor of the primal part of his brain that looked at you and could only think one thing: mine.

It was just so frustrating. He paces the room for a moment and pinches the bridge of his nose. He tries to tell himself it’s fine. He’s being over dramatic. It’s all fine. 

But every part of his mind and body are telling him it’s not fine. You're his. And who does that dumb fuck think he is to make fun of you for liking the name babydoll? Who does he think he is calling him “big guy” like they’re buddies or something? Who does he think he is, intruding on your private time together by coming over uninvited?

The whole thing pissed Leon off even more because he knew the real root of why he was getting so riled up about this even if he didn’t want to admit it. He had been so fucking horny all day, and all he wanted tonight was to come home to his sweet girl and stuff her full of his cock till neither of them could think straight.

Constantly, throughout the day, he pictured you whining, face contorting in pleasure, clawing at his back as he was balls deep inside that tight, wet pussy. He envisioned the way you wrapped your limbs around him and whimpered “My Leon” when the pleasure got too good. And now that he was thinking of this again, he felt himself getting hard inside the constraints of his jeans.

He could hear you out there talking to Chad, and it was driving him crazy. He could hear your laughter, but it wasn’t genuine. It didn’t sound true like when he told you a stupid joke. No. Obviously, you didn’t even really want this guy here.

While that should’ve made him feel better, it just worked him up more, convincing him you should’ve been in here with him instead, your face pressed to the mattress and your ass in the air while he filled you till you were leaking his cum.

After a while, it finally sounded like the conversation out there was winding down. He couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He had to give in a little bit. He adjusts himself to conceal his half-hard cock and walks out to the living room, acting as if he was getting a drink. He sees you saying bye to Chad at the front door.

At first he’s relieved, finally this douchebag will be out of your hair. But then he looks closer. That guy had his hand on your shoulder, his fingers rubbing tiny circles on the fabric of your shirt. Leon sees you shrug the hand off, but it does little to quell his anger.

Then this fucking guy brushes a strand of your hair out of your face as he says goodbye. You shrink away from the contact but still. It takes everything in Leon not to explode and rip that guy apart. He keeps his cool though and just glares daggers at him.

Chad catches a glimpse of him as he leaves. His expression falters a little as he sees the hateful look Leon’s shooting him, but he quickly puts on his stupid fucking smile again and waves. “See you another time, big guy.”

Leon’s blood boils at the comment. That guy thinks he’s so fucking funny. In reality, he was pathetic, hitting on you when he knew your boyfriend was in the other room. He wanted to go out there and wipe that smile off that guy’s face again. Let him know who’s girl you really were.

You turn around, and it’s like you can feel the fury radiating off of him. “Leon…” you say softly.

“What?” he says flatly before walking to the fridge to gulp down some water. He needed to cool off. He didn’t blame you for his own childish feelings, and it wouldn’t be fair to lash out at you.

You walk over to him tentatively. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says before swallowing the water. God, just look at you. So fucking cute he could barely take it. Looking up at him with those adorable eyes, your voice all soft and sweet like you couldn’t say a mean word if you tried. He couldn’t take it out on you, but he was so pent up.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Baby, I’m fine,” he repeats before finishing his drink. He decides to go back to the bedroom. You could follow if you wanted, but being in this state of anger when you were being so gentle was making him wild. He wanted to ruin you and have you crying that he was the only one you’d ever want. It was making him hard again.

You follow him to the bedroom and stand in the doorway. He’s sitting on the bed, clearly frustrated, and you have a good idea of what the problem is.

“You know he’s just a friend- actually, even less than that. He’s just some guy I used to know. I hadn’t thought about him in years before he showed up today,” you say.

“I know.”

“Then what’s the matter, my love. Why do you seem so tense?” you coo as you walk towards him.

Leon hesitates. He knew how pathetic the words sounded even before they came spilling out of his mouth. “The way he was touching you? And the way he talked. He’s such a dick.”

“I know,” you sigh, “Like I said, we aren’t friends. You’ll most likely never see him again, so I wouldn’t give him anymore of your energy.”

“Is it not obvious you’re mine?” he continues, “And the whole babydoll thing? Fuck that guy. I like that you like when I call you babydoll. It’s cute. He’s fucking stupid.”

You just nod, letting him rant and get it out of his system. Kneeling down in front of him, you rub his knee and up to his thigh. “I like when you call me babydoll too. It’s very sweet,” you agree with a small smile.

It was an innocent gesture, getting on your knees in front of him. An attempt to make better eye contact with the way he was sitting. But now, his dick was solid. He shifts a little.

“Because you’re precious,” he breathes and leans forward to lay a kiss on your forehead.

You sense the shift in his demeanor and see his physical fidgeting. “How can I make you feel better, babe? Take your mind off it?”

He stares at you for a moment, contemplating what he wants. “Just stay there,” he grunts when he figures it out. He undoes his belt and slides his pants and boxers down his legs. His flushed cock rests against his thigh.

You assume he wants a blowjob, so you reach for it. You’re surprised when he grabs your wrist and stops you. “Not right now, honey.”

He leans back a little and wraps his fingers around his cock. He begins stroking slowly, up and down. He lets out a deep breath.

You raise your eyebrows at him but don’t protest. If this was what he wanted, why would you oppose?

“Just stay right there, angel. Just need a minute,” he says.

He looks down at you, his eyes hooded with lust. You were perfect to him. The way you watched and didn’t say a word, letting him do what he needed.

“My pretty girl,” he grunts and teaches with his free hand to stroke your hair. He pumps his cock a little faster, “Spit on it for me, babydoll.”

You do what he asks, leaning forward and spitting down onto his cock. His hand slides up, taking your saliva and spreading it over the head and down the shaft.

“Good girl,” he says. A low moan rumbles in his chest as he jerks himself off in front of you. You just watch silently.

You keep your eyes on his fist and the beads of precum that leak from the angry, red tip. While you gaze at this sight, you tilt your head and rest it on his thigh.

He didn’t even fully understand why, but seeing you do that sets something off in him. A guttural sound erupts from some deep, primitive place inside him, and his hips buck into his hand. The way you looked so content to just watch him please himself. It made him feel the connection to you that he so desperately needed to be reminded of.

“Sweet baby,” he moans, his head falling back, “My precious girl. Only mine.”

He starts gently fucking his closed fist, biting his lip and whimpering as he does. You grew damp between your thighs at the sight.

“You’re my baby. Mine. You wouldn’t do this for anyone else. I’m the only one who gets to have this, see you on your knees watching me jerk off,” he mumbles, more to himself than you as the rush of impending release fogs his head.

“Mhm,” you simply agree.

He moans more, his eyes half shut at this point. His hips keep working slightly. Soft, wet noises fill the air as the mix of saliva and precum coat his dick throughout the process.

“Baby, say you’re mine. Say it to me. Wanna fucking hear it,” he groans.

“I’m yours,” you say.

“Yeah, you are,” he grunts, “Nobody else gets my baby girl. You’re only for me.”

He whimpers again and his breathing becomes ragged as he gets closer to the edge. It’s so close, he can feel it right there.

“Gonna cum on your face, baby. Gotta see that you belong to me. See my fucking mark on you,” he rambles out.

“I want you to cum on my face. Wanna feel my Leon claim me as his own,” you say.

Once he hears those two words, it’s over. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a growl and a whine as he cums. Euphoric release floods his veins while streams of hot, sticky cum cover your face. He thrusts upward into his grasp as they flow out of him and coat your skin.

When he’s finished, he looks down at you with dilated pupils. All the anger had left him with his orgasm, and now it was replaced by pure love for you. You still looked so cute covered in his cum.

He sits up and strokes your jaw. “Thank you, baby. Sorry for getting so intense,” he chuckles.

You smile and rise to sit next to him on the bed. “It’s ok. I get a little crazy when I’m jealous too,” you say.

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve seen that,” he says teasingly.

“Well, don’t try to find out,” you say and smile at him.

You sit there for a moment, wondering if you could clean your face now. He seems to know what you’re thinking. He rubs your thigh and kisses your hair.

“Give me a few minutes to get it up again,” he whispers in your ear, “Then I’m cumming deep inside that pretty pussy while you're still covered in my last load. Gonna have everyone in this city hear who you belong to when you're screaming my name.”

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you have any examples of Ye Olde Pixie Cut? Asking for a friend

You can have a whole video about it, in fact!

this interests me particularly because it's not focusing on illness, androgyny, dress reform convictions (although she does mention that one- gotta love the prescriptivism going back the other way re: the supposed "dangers" of long hair </s>), or politics- it's an example of feminine-presenting women having short hair by choice because they presumably thought it looked nice, as happened in the early 1800s and the 1920s and today

Ye Olde Pixie Cut, indeed. I also love the commentary from some butthurt man wondering who would want to stroke these women's hair. oh no...imagine stroking the soft, silken curls of some of the women in the photographs...imagine pushing locks back from their noble brows to plant a kiss...that just sounds so awful; give me the time machine coordinates of their locations so I, as a lesbian, can avoid them extra-hard

and my personal favorite post-Coiffure A La Titus example: this portrait of Josephine Niehaus by Frank Duveneck, c. 1885 (Cincinnati Art Museum)

(I'm assuming her hair isn't just up because side parts weren't popular for long-haired women for another decade or so, but some women with short hair did adopt them. and hey, that's from 1885 not too terribly far from Chicago! just like the trend Nicole Rudolph mentioned!)

[mowu-moment]

ranking food tokens by how much personally i want to eat them

- Throne of Eldraine -

i have reason to distrust this meat pie thing, not only because of its wails of anguish but it also seems to have burst a bit in the oven. still not honestly opposed, at least the dishes are clean. 5/10.

how does one unpeel a curly banana? why are there sliced-open fruits on what appears to be a stone in the woods? where is the light coming from? i'm going to be taken by the fae and it's not even gonna taste too good while i'm at it, these things look dirty. but idk i don't mind someone else taking the wheel of my life rn. 2/10.

again, concerns about the floor food, but at least it looks more like some deliverygirl got eaten by a wolf and dropped her basket than a trap. someone already took a bite, though, maybe i should leave it be. 4/10

i have been invited to the Goblin King's Feast and while i don't fully agree with his choices i will certainly partake. boar looks wonderful apart from the hair. 7/10

- Commander 2020 / Strixhaven Commander -

i'm pretty sure cattails are poisonous to humans (not to mention the actual poisons in there) so i unfortunately can't oblige gyome's swamp soup. that crusty bread looks pretty nice though. i'll pick this thing apart like high school cafeteria lunch. 3/10.

- Modern Horizons 2 -

i at least know who cooked this one, and i trust asmor a decent bit, but this is still food for demons, so maybe it's not too good for me. goddamn do i wanna know what it tastes like though. 4/10.

- Unfinity -

i'm considering these two together. as a filthy american, i am allured by these fat-filled foods, but as a lad with a tiny stomach, i doubt i could eat enough to feel good about not wasting it. astrotorium's about excess, goddamn. the only funfair burger i've had was the best thing i had eaten in months, but it also made me ill the rest of the day. i really do want some infinity fries though, those look like the golden mean between a steak fry and a curly fry. 6/10.

- March of the Machine Commander -

meanwhile this looks like a texture nightmare. like i respect it, i imagine it's filling and fulfilling, but i don't think i ever could eat more than a bite or two. bread looks a little worse than gyome's but only a little. 5/10.

- Lord of the Rings: Tales of Middle-Earth -

my white ass loves a charcuterie board. and i'm not going to be intimidated out of it by not eating enough, since it's all in snack-sized bits already. definitely gonna overindulge this sucker. i'm nervous about some of those spreads though. 9/10.

this looks like i'm in a dream, is it actively cooking? or still hot? i can't identify what's in that pan anyway. i'm leaving it alone out of respect. wouldn't mind a drink though. 2/10.

this is not food. for humans. 0/10.

- Wilds of Eldraine -

this is a king's feast i am properly intimidated by. i'm more into it than the Goblin King's, particularly that triple-layer blueberry pie or whatever that is, but i'm going to have to be as polite as possible lest i get a face full of flaming beer. 8/10

i'll probably be eaten before this can eat me, and it barely looks like food, but at least i go down with sugar in the mouth. 1/10.

ogh. that egg looks divine. the bread looks amazing, there's a full glass, i've got like beans or mermaid tears everywhere. we've even got seasonings back there. the best damn breakfast i'll ever have. 10/10.

i would still probably eat this over nothing. there's onion, at least. i will either be hexed or violently ill, but like i could at least get it down. and maybe the witchmother is testing my strength and she'll reward me after slurping an eyeball. a convenient lie to tell myself. 2/10.

- Doctor Who Commander -

y'know, four, i think i would like a copyrighted candy. they look sad and british, which is on point. but like it's not actively killing me like half of these. i think anyway. i don't know doctor who. 6/10.

what is this? i have no idea. custard? raw batter? giant dunkaroo? is he dipping fishsticks? it doesn't look like it's done cooking, like do we need to put it in a fryer again? i'd say it's inedible but it's not poison stew so i have to be nice. 4/10.

get AWAY from me. this is a PERSONAL vendetta. i would rather try to eat spiderwebs. plus he's already eaten half of it. -10/10.

- Fallout Commander -

i can't be too mean since this is literally apocalypse food. i think i prefer this over poison stew? like i recognize it at least, even if it's foul and moldy. man has to eat something. 3/10

i'm not convinced there's actual soda in here. is this just a perspective shot or is this a giant prop soda? i don't like cola anyway. again, worth it in an apocalypse i suppose. 4/10

this soda i trust even less. it glows? does this give me magic powers in the fallout world or does it just kill me slowly? i think it'll kill me slowly anyway. i need fluid to survive in apocalypseland but damn i hate for it to come to this. 2/10.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

hi to chrom hater anon i'm a professional chrom enjoyer

if you get deranged enough about awakening i think chrom is a very well done character :) he's ignorant but well meaning which meshes in interesting ways. he's not overtly prejudiced to the plegians he knows personally but still *generally* prejudiced because of his upbringing.

additionally in discussions of the ylisse-plegia war he tends to focus on how ylisse came away from it because that state of ylisse is what shaped his formative childhood years (seen particularly in his feelings about emmeryn's early years as exalt). this is UNDERSTANDABLE but still an extremely DEEPLY FLAWED and naive stance when doing politics on a larger scale, which chrom is incredibly ill-prepared for. it's a very childish view of a large scale conflict.

chrom's propensity for violence is a trait that actually deeply fascinates me. he has intense admiration for emmeryn's desire for peace yet he has a very short temper in tense situations (seen in basically all of chrom's interactions with gangrel), and he tends to lash out easily at anyone he views as an enemy. he admires peace but sees no other means to achieve it than violence. isn't that interesting. the implications here. like, he's the inheritor of the falchion, he's the only son in his family, in all likelihood it was expected that HE would take the throne and continue his father's war, but he was so young when the exalt passed that the crown went to emmeryn instead.

it really seems like emmeryn intentionally kept her siblings away from politics, which results in BOTH of them being naive in vastly different ways, with the expectation that she would always shoulder the burden of the crown yet left all the bigger a void when she died.

mind, intentionally being raised to behave this way isn't an excuse either. it's ultimately still something chrom, as an adult, SHOULD examine critically. this is, in fact, a character flaw, and i think its great.

you can then of course do nice little compare and contrast at the shitty dads, i.e. chrom's dad vs validar. robin's first act as an awakened god is murdering validar. robin became the monster everyone saw them as, the one their father thinks they were born to be. it's a neat lil nature vs nurture comparison if you really get into the depths of grima-ology (hi grima ✌️ mutuals).

to dig more into points the chrom hater anon makes.

"chrom is transphobic for killing excellus" do you hear yourself. excellus was an enemy commander. chrom has no personal grievances against the commanders other than they are part of the army with the known intent to raze ylisse.

SAME WITH ROBIN BURNING DOWN THE BOATS. THEY ARE AT WAR. IF ROBIN DIDNT DO THAT THEY'D ALL GET KILLED. they would have to fight the valm forces ON FOOT and BE KILLED VIOLENTLY because they are vastly outnumbered. it would be weird if he WASN'T at least happy about this.

he could stand to be regretful about the massive loss of human life but honestly hashtag robin warcrimes W.

"chrom makes sure to only recruit white ylisseans" i think this is just dev colorism actually. like you know how robin's dad (who is evil) is brown, but robin (who is good) is white? and how that makes no sense and robin should logically also be brown? i dont think chrom would've turned down if like, mustafa joined him. it is simply that intsys was still in their racism era (which is, tbh, only really ended with engage, like, cmon, look at literally all of FE, this isn't a chrom flaw, it's a FE being racist flaw.)

same with the sexism things actually FE is just homophobic and sexist a lot so all the characters are also by extension. this is called doylist analysis

Chrom tells Aversa "One person's life means nothing in the shadow of millions" Chrom is a hypocrite i hope this helps. additionally what aversa is doing is "help the dark god literally causing the apocalypse rn" whereas the sacrifice/save robin choice is "doom people in some hypothetical far off future" which is FAR less personal than "all of humanity RIGHT NOW".

TLDR: the real chrom enjoyers know about his character flaws and love him anyway because it's nice flavor to chew on

also never insult my beautiful daughter lucina ever again. she is deeply compelling even if she is narratively underutilized. anyone who calls themself a chrom fan and hates lucina is a faker and will not survive the winter.

also learn the difference between flaws of the story's writing and flaws of the character otherwise everybody in awakening is sexist.

anon you should read chrom/grima fanfiction unironically we fucking love tearing this dude to shreds for his flaws. this has all been a ploy to say that. chrom is naive and selfish and hypocritical and i love him very much he is my wif e :)

.

[kiragecko]

How to Support People With Faceblindness/Prosopagnosia Online

This isn't super important. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only faceblind person whose response to not recognizing people was to stop caring about celebrities (and most live action). Unless it's an important political post, we're unlikely to NEED to recognize a random image on Tumblr. But if it you have the energy, this really helps:

Caption photos with the names of whoever is in them. Even if it's someone like Elvis Presley or Donald Trump, who EVERYONE recognizes.

I can't consistently recognize Marilyn Monroe. And I don't want reassurance that she looks just like someone else, so you understand. There will be someone you don't understand, and I still won't be able to recognize them. I'm bad at faces.¹

-

I notice that reaction images are especially hard for me. People LOVE seeing how much context they can remove while still leaving a reaction image recognizable. I have to guess that the zoomed-in eyes are probably still the Obama reaction image from years back. They're just eyes to me. Even normal reaction images are hard if they don't have distinct enough poses.

If you can mention the person's name in the alt text or a caption below your reaction image, it would help a lot.

-

This doesn't apply to people whose names aren't well known. If their identity isn't adding to the meaning, I don't care who it is.

For example:

With the 'then perish' Obama meme, part of the humour is that the then-president is the one telling us to die. So mentioning that it's him aids my understanding of the meme.

With 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat', mentioning that the actor is Michael Bluth, or that the scene is from Arrested Development, allows me to go find out the context if I want to know more. (Which might have stopped me from distributing misinformation to thousands of people about the meaning of the phrase!)

As far as I can tell, the fact that the 'snakes started manifesting' guy is named Uhrie Anthony is NOT particularly important to the meme. I don't need to recognize him from somewhere else to understand what's going on.

-

I don't struggle nearly as much with cartoon characters. Just live-action/real people. Not sure if there are faceblind people that will struggle that way. It's still nice to get context for where some anime character is from, but it doesn't affect me the same way as seeing a random blond woman on my dash, and trying to figure out if she's a singer, an actor, an activist, or something else completely.

-

¹ I'm not annoyed, just trying to support those who struggle with reading comprehension. This isn't about the individual people I'm mentioning. It's about my ability to recognize ANYONE.

[kakujis]

first meeting! - tabito karasu;

synopsis: karasu thinks ur really cute, but what do u mean u know all his teammates and not him?

wc: 1k

warnings: fem!reader, karasu is a little jealous, like miniscule. not proofread.

a/n: well well well.. my first blue lock drabble and it's karasu?! not kunigami or oliver? eh? anyways, i couldn't get this out of my head! i'm a lil nervous, but i just wanted to humble him rq. i love him loads tho and umm, if this is ooc.. oops.

the first time you meet tabito karasu, he’s sitting in a cafe, sipping on a cup of coffee, watching his best friend flirt with another group of girls. he swivels his cup, staring as he swishes the remnants of his drink before he sets it down. 

“there he goes again,” he mumbles, leaning on one hand, staring at the cafe patio. karasu won’t lie, he’s a little bored, but otoya can’t help himself whenever there’s a girl around, even more so when there’s a pack. he does think it’s a little funny to see them swarm him though, asking for autographs or pictures together, as he hears snippets of “i saw your match vs the u-20!” 

he wonders how otoya does it, thinking about draining it would be if he had to pretend to be nice to girls he didn’t particularly care about. he’s brought back to earth by the sound of your voice, “more coffee?” 

“sure,” he says, eyes still trained on the crowd outside. it’s mostly quiet besides the sound of coffee being poured into his cup. 

“oh! its that guy,” you exclaim and karasu finally peels his eyes off of them to look up at you. he blinks, caught off guard for a second. oh.. you’re cute. “otoya eita. he played in the recent blue lock vs u-20 match, right?” 

“oh, uh, yep,” he says, but his heart jumps in his chest when you make eye contact with him. he straightens up a little, thinking it’s lame, but for the first time he can’t come up with much to say. 

“man, he was so cool! ah, the way he moved down the field was kinda dreamy.” you ramble, setting the kettle down on the table, “oh and um, yo hiori? he was pretty cool too. i don’t really follow soccer but my friends do. did you watch it?” 

he waits for you to make a comment about him too, but he’s stumped as you continue to ramble about otoya and the rest of his teammates. the question you ask is the final slap in the face and he wants to be rude, wants to ask if you have eyes, like working eyes, but he bites his tongue. maybe you'll remember if he helps you. 

“er, actually, i played in it,” he responds, a nice, easy going smile on his face, “i was pretty important too.” confidence blooms in his chest as he says it. clearly, you’ll remember now, evident by the way your eyes go wide and your mouth hangs open slightly. but that grin is wiped clear off his face when you respond:

“really?” you shrug, “i didn’t notice you.” 

karasu can’t find any words to say, his brain short-circuiting partly due to the fact that he thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen and second, that you can remember hiori of all people. he’s slack jawed, with his brow furrowed, as you tilt your head with an audible, “hmm,” as you think. 

you shake your head, your fist coming into contact with your open palm, “nope. i’d definitely recognize rin itoshi and yoichi isagi.” you blink, lashes fluttery as you ask, “were you on the bench?” 

“nope.”

“were you subbed in?” 

“played the entire match.” he says, trying to give another smile, but it’s strained now and there’s a definite vein on his face. 

“jersey number?”

“six.” 

you shake your head once again, chirping, “nope! doesn’t ring a bell at all.” 

in a final act of desperation, he’s about to give you his name, but your manager calls for you before he can. you politely excuse yourself, shouting, “coming!” before you’re grabbing the kettle and scurrying off. 

otoya comes back within a few minutes, sitting down, before leaning back and going through his phone. he glances at karasu, who sits there for the second time today, slack jawed and staring; he can’t believe that actually just happened. otoya’s eyes trail over to where he’s looking, it’s you, taking orders and making drinks. 

“she’s cute,” he says, “think she’ll give me her number?” 

taken out of his trance, karasu grits his teeth, annoyed that that’s the first thing out of otoya’s mouth and, that yeah, you would give him your number. 

“didn’t ya just get a ton, outside?” he spits and otoya nods. “so then why’d ya need hers?” 

“because she’s a girl.” he replies and karasu sighs. 

“whatever, lets get outta here.” he signals for the check and to his dismay and slight delight, it’s you who brings it over. 

“hi,” otoya says as you set it down, taking his phone out. “can i have your number?” 

karasu rolls his eyes as you giggle out a “sure!”, but the sound gets his heart fluttering. he tries his best not to see you in his peripheral, trying to block out the way you lean down closer to otoya. as he grabs the checkbook, a slip of paper falls out and figuring it’s his copy of the check, he slips it into his pocket. he doesn’t notice the way your mouth curls up a little wider when he does that. 

when they’re finished paying, the two walk out, the bell on the door chiming, followed by your “thanks for coming!” otoya wastes no time sending you a text. “jackpot,” he says, before sending some texts to the girls he met earlier. 

karasu ignores him, opting to stick his hands in his pockets, feeling the slip of paper. he pulls it out, opening it up, trying to find something of interest, before he stops mid-step. it wasn’t his copy of the check. instead its your number, alongside a note that reads:

hehe. i know who you are, tabito karasu. you played defensive midfield. i wasn’t planning on teasing you like that, but then i would’ve had to admit you were my favorite player that match. btw, your accent is very cute.♡ 

he glances back at the cafe he was just in with a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his head. otoya tilts his head, asking, “you coming?” but karasu’s head is stuck in the clouds, broken out in full grin.

he’s completely smitten.

[n1ghtfurys]

Cream II

Okay so this is the second part to when you met Keegan at a party? A whole one person asked so I'm going to make this a thing. Also don't hate me I'm gonna do another one...probably.

Part I: Cream

You haven't been able to look him in the eye since the party, most of the time when you see him you walk immediately in the opposite direction. One time, when you were with your friend, you audibly squeaked. She still hasn't let you live that one down. His behaviour hasn't changed at all, not that you've been around him enough to tell but still.

Guys normally go for your friend. She likes to pretend otherwise but you've always got people asking about her and yeah, the free drinks are great but they aren't usually directed at you. Not that you mind, peace and quiet is nice and there are so many guys that are so far up their own asses you're shocked they can still see.

Regardless you've been in hiding, you feel like he's everywhere. Obviously he's around because you live in the same building but you find yourself noticing him more, you think he's been trying to talk to you too. Most of the time he doesn't catch you but every so often it looks like he's gonna, luckily that has yet to happen.

Honestly you're shocked he's been here so long, usually he stays at the base and he's deployed a lot, like more often than not. You've been putting off laundry on the off chance that he happens to be down at the same time as you. Only because it would trap you down there with him and you still haven't gotten over the party. The picture of him on his knees in front of you, his mouth open, is one that lives with you. Comes to the front of your mind at night when you're tossing and turning and usually ends in something you aren't really proud of.

You can't put it off anymore though, you're running out of clothes. You spent all day today wandering around in weirdly tight grey sweats and a frankly, very ugly top with a red dragon on, that you had stolen from an ex. It's a truly interesting look, one that has left you comfortable and uncomfortable. The sweats cling to you in so many places and none of them are great, you don't really like how they sit on your hips or how they somehow flatten your ass but the top is on the bigger side so mostly hides that.

You decide to bite the bullet, another mismatched outfit of ill fitting clothes and pieces stolen from various ex’s is not really how you want your week to look. And you can be quick, in and out. No chances of an awkward encounter that just ends with you retreating to the safety of your room, probably never to leave again.

You have never liked the laundry room. The landlord hasn't bothered painting the walls so there is only water stained concrete and cobwebs for decoration, if you're honest it's dingy and always smells dusty despite the detergent people use on their clothes. It's also always warm down here, you hate that, It's like being wrapped in a warm, damp blanket. The dryers sometimes eat your socks too and at least half of the machines are out of order.

It's not like your building is particularly bad, sure some of the halls have cracked paint and one of the doors into the building is held together with duct tape but it's really not a bad building.

It's empty when you get down though, much to your delight because you don't have to deal with any polite small talk about weather or neighbourhood changes. As much as you like the older citizens in your building they can be quite boring to talk to. Plus it gives you some time to read, the book is truly subpar but it's entertaining and music makes it slightly more bearable. So once you've put the clothes on you perch on one of the machines that don't work and hope nobody else comes in.

Of course your luck is never that good and the door opens pretty much as soon as you settle on the cool metal of the dryer. You don't look up, mostly because if you pretend you haven't noticed them, they can't start a conversation but also if you look up and he's standing there you're going to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment.

Your plan works perfectly until the mystery person pipes up.

“What you reading?” You know the voice without having to look up, of all the people. It had to be him, you know your luck isn't amazing but you didn't think it was that bad.

This would be your que to curl up and die, only you can't ignore him. It's rude and you don't hate him so you make the decision to look up from your book. You, however, immediately regret your decision to do that because why does he look like that? Part of you wishes he could be on his knees in front of you again but that part of you is clearly unstable and is to be ignored at all costs.

You paint a polite smile over your face, in hopes he can't figure out how many times you've come with his name on your lips. You lift up the book to show him, he doesn't really strike you as the reading type so you have no problem showing him and if you show him the cover he might not ask questions. He nods, you think for a moment he's going to ask what it's about but he doesn't. He actually doesn't say anything else, he just goes about his laundry.

You're not entirely sure how you feel about the fact that he didn't continue the conversation, technically you have no reason for it to bother you. Especially since you didn't want to talk anyway but something about the fact he says nothing annoys you.

You can't help but watch him, hunched over the machine. The black t-shirt he's wearing has no right being that tight, you can see the muscles in his back whenever he moves and you know all he's doing is loading clothes into a washing machine but god his arms.

He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up, you meet his eyes before you avert them quickly back to your book because that was mortifying. Seriously it's just a guy in a black t-shirt and you're basically drooling over him, god you're better than this. You swear you hear him chuckle which serves to both annoy and embarrass you.

The chime of your cycle being over literally cannot come fast enough. You have never unloaded one of those machines faster, you grab what you think is all of your shit and basically run up the stairs because anything is better than being in a room with him in his stupid sexy t-shirt with his dumb muscles and deep voice.

You retreat to the familiar safety of your room for the rest of the day, stress reading your book to get past the awfulness of that encounter.

That is until you hear the front door open, obviously since you have a roommate you think nothing of it until you hear said roommate call you to the door, because today couldn't get any worse. You go to the door, expecting a delivery or a salesman she needs you to get rid of but obviously you're not that lucky because the universe must hate you.

Standing at the door is, of course, Keegan because who else would be at your door? What could he possibly want? He doesn't seem like the type of guy to make fun of people, let alone seek someone out to do so.

You make your way to the door, which is arguably the last place you want to be right now. As you pass your friend she punches you like this is a good thing because you may or may not have told her what happened at the party and she's very, very set on getting you laid. That's not what's going to happen though.

You stand in the doorway and watch as his eyes drift slowly down your body, when he meets your eyes again you can tell that he's smirking, not that you can see his mouth but you know.

“You left everything but your glass slippers, princess.” He holds out the detergents you had taken down there with you.

“Oh” really, you know that you should use more words than that, because you do know more words than that or you think you do. Right now it doesn't matter because you're trying to will your brain to pick between saying thanks and sorry.

“Sonks” clearly you are not stronger willed than your brain. You take the bottles from his, still, outstretched hands while hoping that a you-sized sinkhole would appear beneath you.

“Thanks, and sorry for making you come all the way up here. Bye.” he barely has a chance to answer before you're shutting the door.

You put the detergent on the kitchen counter and then proceed to put your head there too because what the fuck was that? A one way ticket to forever being the one girl that can't even talk. You then start to realise how rude it was to slam the door essentially on his face when he was being nice and then you feel even worse about everything.

Not much you can do about it now anyway so you put the detergents away because this day couldn't get any worse. If you weren't hiding in your room before, you are now. Forever. Unless you're called out by your friend or need to cook so that she doesn't burn down the apartment. You like your room anyway, so big deal, and you can probably get enough sunlight from the windows not to get a vitamin D deficiency and if not there's always supplements.

“Honey!” your best friend and roommate has taken to calling you that, usually when she gets home from work but it's kinda just stuck. “Whose number is on the fabric softener?”

Before you really have time to move, she's bursting into your room, as she does.

“Bet it's his.” she has also already taken your phone which you now regret giving her the password to. Luckily your brain catches up before she sends a message that starts with ‘hey sexy’

You forget for a moment that the world hates you and everything sucks because you in fact don't delete the message, instead you manage to press send, like an idiot but it's fine. Maybe he doesn't use his phone at all, or maybe it fell out of his pocket down a flight of stairs or maybe he broke his neck.

Clearly not because he reads it before you have the good sense to delete it. Clearly, all that can be learnt from today is that luck doesn't exist and everything sucks and you're never gonna end up in bed with this man, ever.

[dustofthedailylife]

We talked about about black cat gf but what about

Golden retriever yn x black cat genshin boys

I'm finally getting to this ask, sorry for taking so long. It's been a busy week and I didn't want to half-ass this reply. 😭

The guys who would fit the bill here in my opinion, would be:

Black Cat Genshin Boys

Alhaitham, Xiao, Ayato, Diluc x (gn!) Reader [Fluff & the boys being protective] -> Masterlist || -> Taglist

Alhaitham is the guy who mostly protects you in secret. Whenever he sees you're struggling with something, he'd try his utmost to help you resolve it behind the scenes. He loves it when you come home with a big smile, telling him that you finally managed to do the thing you were struggling with.

Another benefit of being with him was that whenever both of you were out together, everyone made sure to stay clear of you, or well, him rather. They don't even dare to look at you the wrong way.

And whenever someone is trying to get in your way, no matter what it may be, you can count on him to talk to the person in question. And while he generally hates his position as the Grand Sage and because he knows he generally is intimidating to most people (not that he really cares) he gladly makes use of those two traits for your sake. You're too innocent and nice for your own good. One could say, to a fault. But you're the most precious thing and wants to protect you from all evils this world had to offer.

Xiao immediately knows the moment you two get together that you're an innocent person with not a single bad thought on their mind. You wear your heart on your sleeve and he genuinely appreciates that. Although he feels like it may get you hurt either emotionally or physically due to that one day. And he genuinely feared for that.

You're not particularly good in a fight, not that you ever needed to either. But it constantly has Xiao worried. Especially since you're with him now and he is almost certain he attracts evil. In fact, he believes he is evil. And that he doesn't deserve you, this pure and innocent being, one bit.

But despite that, he protects you where he can. When you're out alone he always has a watchful eye on you. Almost getting ambushed by treasure hoarders? They'll be dealt with before you even knew they were there.

Diluc has lost so much already, it has turned him into someone who is always cautious and protective. Especially of his loved ones. And you're vulnerable and entirely oblivious to the evils of this world - and he'd like to keep it this way. He doesn't want you to endure the same things he had to go through already.

Ever since getting together, he makes sure to be home on time. His contacts always keep him informed about the doings of the Fatui since he knows they have him on their radar. He'd hate it if you became their target simply for being with him.

What also helps is that Diluc is generally very respected throughout Mondstadt so out of the citizens no one would dare to mess with you anymore. That's at least one thing he didn't have to worry about.

Ayato loves his family and loved ones dearly, it's no secret. He'd drop everything for them the minute it is required of him. He'd go to sheer unimaginable lengths. And you, as his partner, are no exception to that rule.

He cherishes how open, outgoing, and generally lovable you are. The people of Inazuma would agree. They love you. But with love also comes jealousy and mischief of political enemies and other folks. Lucky for you, he has the required foresight to interfere with anything his political enemies might be plotting before they're able to execute their plans.

He knows them long before anything can happen to you, thanks to his informants and the Shuumatsuban. He knows a lot of people are against his marriage with you and would rather see him wed to their children instead of some commoner like you, but they don't see what he sees. And he will do everything in his ability to protect you from any evils of this world.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[itsblasttothepast]

Random Checo Pérez Post

So, I've been a fan of Checo Pérez for years... since the beginning, actually. I'm mexican, I'm older than him (I'm in my 40's, if anyone was wondering) and I particularly follow mexicans in tough sports for our country (like my boy, Donovan Carrillo, killing it in ice skating).

It can be tiring seeing all the hate he gets for every little thing (without couting the racist/xenophobic comments), and I know he's controversial, but he's also human and makes mistakes. Anyway, that's no the point, as a Checo fan, I've been there seeing all the different teams and teammates, and honestly, I kind of want to go back when he was mostly ignored by the press and the media.

I hardly post anything personal in my blog, I mostly reblog and like posts of you awesome people, but now I'm in a ranty mood and want to share my my impressions of his career in F1.

Starting with Sauber, his very first team:

I call this: Baby Checo Era - Cursed Sauber Era

Look at him, he was so young, full of dreams and growing into those teeth. I think he was very lucky with his first teammate, the great Kamui Kobayashi (I secretly think this is why he's so fond of Yuki Tsunoda nowdays); he learned a lot with Kamui, Checo even admits that he knows about managing tires thanks to Kamui.

They seemed relaxed, and made a great team, and also we had Esteban Gutiérrez, another mexican, as the third driver for Sauber.

Anyway, this was his learning phase, and he was killing it, most of the press was nice/ambigous, some pilots on the paddock didn't like him, but we didn't care because Kamui was there, Esteban was there, and we as fans were there.

I called this 'cursed Sauber era' because it made us believe that life was good and we could be happy forever and ever.

Then it came the worst thing ever (actually, for me, the worst thing ever is Red Bull, but most Checo Fans don't agree on my take). My boy moves to McLaren because Ferrari was still thinking their options.

I call this the Lost Checo Era - Collective Amnesia Era

We thought the move to McLaren would put our Checo on the map, oh boy, we were SO WRONG. No points, no glory, no good car... not even good press. It was a hot mess.

Not even the suit was good, honestly.

His teammate was Jenson Button. He was polite, but we could see he didn't like Checo's driving style, and sometimes my boy made silly mistakes and tried to force his way into the laps rather aggressively (which most drivers did back then, but whatever).

Still, they were mostly nice to each other, but the team was shit back then, and Checo seemed lost and confused (and still wasn't growing into those teeth). When he changed teams, we as fans decided to forget all about McLaren and move on with him. Although I must say Checo has said that Jenson was one of his best teammates and learned a lot from him, so I guess their relation wasn't that bad.

Then it came Force India/Racing Point... oh, Force India, it was our time.

I call this the Hopeful Checo Era - Foce India Hope

Checo came and slayed, honestly. Everything seemed to click with that team, he looked comfortable, in his element, winning points again...

And he finally was growing into those teeth!!!

His first teammate here was Nico Hülkenberg, and they seemed to have a good relation, even friendly I might say.

It was an amazing time, as a fan, I can say I enjoyed all the races, even when he kept spinning out the track or hitting other drivers with his wheels. He and Nico were amazing, and had such a nice chemistry, it was a refreshing change and it made us nostalgic.

Then Nico moved to another team... and another Checo Era starts.

Nico Hülkenberg loggged out of Foce India, and Esteban Ocon logged in...

I call this the No Fucks Given Checo - Force India Breaking Point

We could see Esteban and Checo didn't like each other. It was obvious, and they tried so hard to show they could get along, with hilarious results like Esteban's tweet about Checo trying to kill him twice.

You could feel the tension even in pictures, honestly. As fans, we used to joke every race weekend, asking 'has Checo finally killed Esteban?'

Checo here was fearless and daring, and kept pushing everyone out of his way, including his teammate, which of course is a big no-no in F1... although Mercedes suffered the same with the whole Lewis/Nico thing (and RedBull to a lesser extent with Max/Daniel), but Force India was a mid-table team, so it wasn't a big deal (nobody cared, those were the good days).

I even remember when Massa complained about Checo's overtake on Lance, and my boy answered 'What are you? his father?'... I think even Kimi laughed at this, it was hilarious, and showed how many fucks he cared.

Unfortunately, Force India had a very questionable management (debatable, Vijay seemed like a nice person), and after stopping paying all the employees, Checo brought legal action against the team in hopes of looking for buyers capable of servicing the team's debts (this is why they like him so much on Aston Martin). This led to Force India to be bought by Lawrence Stroll, and rebranded as Racing Point.

I call this the Reborn Checo Era - Racing Point Pink Era

Honestly, I would fail as a mexican if I didn't put this picture, his first win in F1, we cried so much, starting at the last place, and winning, the fireworks, the tears... and the fact that he had been fired, and here he was, winning, showing everyone to never give up.

Anyway, Checo had a new teammate, Lance Stroll, and it even looked like we would get something similar to Nico, but then they fired him for Sebastian Vettel (no hate to Vettel, it was strategic, and we get it, but it felt like such a betrayal after what Checo did to save the team).

Still, my boy looked good in pink, and he and Lance got along, and gave us amazing moments. I even think that he improved his relation with Esteban Ocon because he was Lance's friend. It was nice.

But when he was fired of Racing Point, we as fans thought 'it's over... our boy is going to leave F1'. We even joked about funding our team so he could stay, it was bittersweet. He won, but he still lost.

Then it came the proposal of proposals... the big league (I wanted Checo to go to Mercedes and race with Lewis), Red Bull wanted him as second driver.

I personally didn't like it. Those teams are hardball, and the press is ruthless. But everyone was so happy for Checo, and I wanted to see him race, so I made peace with it.

And here we are now... I honestly don't know how to call this Checo Era. It has been a rollarcoaster since the beggining, and I wish he hadn't renew and moved to another team... but I'll stay here with him, like I've done since 2011, I just hope that the pressure and the harsh and unnecessary criticism doesn't end up breaking him.

Especially now that he looks so hot and finally has the Tom Cruise smile.

I actually like Max, I think he's a good person, and an even better driver. I think he and Checo have a good relation, friendly at times, frosty some others, but in the end, they reach a middle ground where they can be teammates and not enemies. I like them together, but I don't like Red Bull policies and the way the press seemed to want to make Checo feel like he's a failure just because he isn't Max.

Oh, and also, thanks to tumblr and FB, now I kind of ship RP, and I agree that Max and Checo have amazing chemistry, they look so good together! (but also deep down, I lowkey ship Lewis/Checo... and I still hope to see them together in a team).

So, if you made it this far, thank you very much for reading my weird ramblings. English is not my first language (again, mexican), so I apologize for the grammar mistakes.

I'm a Checo fan, and I'll be until he retires... I just wish that those who aren't, didn't create such a hostile and hateful enviroment.

I hope that when Pato O'ward joins F1, the enviroment is more welcoming and nice.

Checo aun tiene para luchar, y ni modo cabrones, así es la vida.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Hey!

Just read „Mirror Mirror“ and I saw that you‘re still taking requests so here’s something! :))

I saw a fanart of Ascended Astarion smoking and blowing the smoke seductively into Tavs mouth, who’s sitting in his lap and I swear, that’s some hot stuff!

So I‘ve been thinking about Astarion sitting in his study, still all dressed up in a fancy outfit, doing some important paperwork (he is such an important politician now after all) and smoking a cigarette or cigar with a nice glass of whiskey, looking so powerful and then Tav comes in and sees him, finding all of this incredibly hot and takes her rightful place in his lap…. ;)

I see your vision and I respect it. One small change is his outfit is fancyish but a lil on the casual side since he's at home. But still scary prettyman!

TW: Graphic smut, spoilers for the game with embellishments, ascended astarion acting like himself, though in a mild form since this is mostly just banging and fluff.

~

Astarion sighed as he set the paper down, rubbing at his temples as he considered his options. The letter from Mizora was tempting, to say the least. A personal assassin that could materialize out of thin air obviously had its perks. But... the terms were concerning, solely for the fact that they were too simple. A year of her services in exchange for a place to stay in Baldur's Gate, at his home.

He was tempted. But the thought of that devil having such clear access to you was non-negotiable. Especially when he had no insight on her motivations. No, he'd have to find another way to get rid of his political rivals, preferably without getting personally involved. He did so love the heroic image he had cultivated amongst the common folk, one that would be hard to maintain if he was caught with his fangs digging in the nape of the Captain of the Guard.

What a headache.

He leaned back in his chair, thoughtful as he took another drag of his cigarette, his drink in his other hand. No one said that regional domination would be easy. He just wished it wasn't so irritating. Maybe they shouldn't have gotten rid of Gortesh after all, he was a backstabbing little weasel but at least then Astarion wouldn't have to deal with pesky things like ethics. But that was too little too late. It's not like he could un-decapitate the man.

Astarion paused his musings when something started to tickle at the back of his mind. A presence, lurking in the darkness. Astarion smiled to himself as he set his whiskey down, calling out into the black hallway, "I see you over there pet."

Astarion grinned as you came into view, already relaxing at the mere sight of you. You leaned against the doorway, clad in nothing but a thin nightdress. Thin enough for him to nearly be able to see through it, your feet bare. You looked delicious, the perfect distraction from his troubled thoughts.

"Am I disturbing you?" You asked coyly, fully aware that you never could. There you were, the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. His favorite pet, his most precious treasure. How could you ever disturb him?

Astarion chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, "Would you care?"

"Not particularly," You sighed as you waltzed into the room, "Especially considering how I'm the one who has been kept waiting."

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the little dig as he patted his lap, "Come here my love, let me get a better look at you."

You went easily, settling into his lap with a happy sigh. 

"Such a pretty thing," Astarion murmured as he looked you over, his dick already twitching at the sight of you; your nipples pebbling in the cold air, completely visible through the light cloth. You looked divine. 

Astarion let his hand creep up your thigh, playing with the hem of your short slip as he took another drag. One that he decided to share. Astarion gripped you by the chin, a soft order escaping his lips, “Open up darling.”

You popped your mouth right open, so obedient it made his heart sing. He breathed the smoke into your lungs, pressing a barely there kiss against your lips before he pulled back; happy to see the way your pupils were already dilated. 

"What are you doing out of bed my sweet?" Astarion asked, only a touch of discontentment coloring his voice. You knew how he felt about you wandering around at night, even in your own home. He liked to know where you were at all times, no ifs, ands, or buts. Though… looking over you once more, he supposed he could make an exception.

"No reason in particular," You said, an obvious lie. One that Astarion would be able to parse out even if he didn't have full access to your mind. It wasn't helping that you were already squirming in his lap, seemingly trying your best to discreetly arouse him even more.

Astarion set his cigarette down on the ashtray, moving to run his free hand through your hair before gripping it harshly, chuckling at the way it made you gasp.

"We talked about lying pet," Astarion murmured, the hand in your hair tightening, "Unless you're looking for a punishment?"

"Maybe I just missed you," You tried again, your breath already quickening. Astarion wouldn't be surprised if you were already dripping into your panties. You did love it when he got rough.

Besides, at least that was closer to the truth.

Astarion's hand crept further up your leg, caressing your inner thigh as you shuddered, "Have I been neglecting you pet? How inconsiderate of me. But I did warn you that it would be a busy week."

"But you seem tired," You mumbled, leaning in to start kissing up the line of his throat, your hands running up and down his chest, "You've been working so hard lately. Don't you think you've earned a break?"

"Kingdoms don't build themselves darling," Astarion shot back half-heartedly. But you both knew he was already sold. You had won the second you came into view, "But perhaps I could be convinced. Did you have something in mind?"

"Mm, I'm not sure," You said, like you weren't the one grinding your perfect ass against him like a whore, "But I'm sure we can think of something."

That was enough of the coy act. Astraion wretched your head back without warning, sinking his fangs into your neck. Perhaps you could have done with a warning, not that it would have mattered. He had earned the right to do with you as he pleased. You yelped at the unexpected pain but he could taste your arousal on his tongue, spiked through your blood. To this day it continued to be the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

Astarion popped off of you with a smirk, near giddy at seeing that hazy look already in your eyes. He trailed bloody kisses up your throat, "Good girls ask for what they want, don't they? Unless you're looking for a punishment."

You were nearly panting as you writhed in his lap, frustrated desperation seeping into your voice when you begged, "Fuck me? Please?"

It was a good start, but Astarion knew that you could do better. He laughed, his voice rough as his fangs scraped against your delicate skin, "I think you can try harder than that, darling."

You were gripping at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you whimpered, "Please my love? I’ve missed you all day. Don’t make me wait any longer."

“Have I been neglecting you, my treasure?” Astarion murmured, his hand trailing down from your hair, moving to slip the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. 

“You have,” You whined as he tugged on your dress, watching with rapt attention as he let it fall. He wasted no time in leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple; tasting you as you whimpered, “I-please Astarion. I need you inside me. It aches without you, I can’t take it. Please.”

Perfect words from perfect lips. That was the end of his manufactured patience. Astarion was already tearing your nightgown off completely, rendering it to tatters as he feasted on you with his eyes. He could buy you another, one in every color if you wished. But for now it was just in the way. 

He lifted you up onto the desk, ignoring your surprised gasp as you set you on the edge. His eyes were already narrowing downward, your cunt bare and glistening before him. 

Astarion ran his finger up the seam of it, grinning when he realized you were already dripping, “No panties tonight darling? Naughty girl."

"You don't like it?" You coyly asked as you worked to undo his belt, making quick work of getting his cock out, “I figured it was more economical to not let you tear apart everything I own.”

Astarion laughed as he spread your legs further apart, clever fingers working over your clit as you moaned, “Perhaps we should forget about clothing entirely then for you. It certainly would be more convenient.”

A complete bluff, one obvious enough to make you giggle. Though, it was a fun thought, one that Astarion would actually consider entertaining if he wasn’t so self-aware. No, it would take less than a day for him to rip out the eyes of the entire staff for seeing you like this, gorgeous, bare, and his. 

Your hands were shaking as you rubbed the head of him over your folds, your head thrown back as you moaned. He pushed into you hard and fast, groaning at how wonderfully soaked and tight you felt. There truly was nothing better. He gripped your hips, hard enough to bruise as you pulled you on and off his cock; your eyes rolling back into your head at the impressive display of strength. 

“T-Thank you, thank you,” You mewled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him down closer, “Feels good. So good. Love you so much.”

Astarion couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling just as lovesick and obsessed as the day he made you his. There really was nothing better than this, making love to the brightest part of his soul. You clinging onto him for dear life as he fucked into you, completely uncaring for the books and papers he was spilling onto the floor. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear, your legs wrapped around him; always trying to pull him closer.  

He wasn’t going to last long like this. But he’d be damned if you didn’t reach your peak first. He snaked a hand between the two of you, roughly rubbing circles onto your clit before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. 

You gasped as he played with you, your pussy clenching around him as you came. It felt divine, the perfect sensation to tip him right over the edge, coming deeply inside you while he panted into your mouth.

"I love you," You whispered against his lips, your voice still slurring as your body twitched from the aftershocks, “Love you so much.”

You were running your fingers through his hair as you lazily kissed each other, holding him so closely that it made his heart sing. 

“I love you too pet,” Astarion murmured back, meaning every word, “More than you’ll ever know.”

"Tired now,” You sighed as your nails pleasantly scratched his scalp, “Carry me upstairs?"

Astarion was already hefting you into his arms before you could finish the question, tucking himself back into his pants before lifting you up completely, "Of course my love."

As he walked you upstairs, Astarion was struck with the realization that he could barely remember what he had been worried about in the first place. He smiled to himself as you cuddled against his chest, leaning in to press a light kiss to your hair. 

You always knew just what he needed.