#I'm too lazy and tired to make a new post

[gasstationlady]

the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)

lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.

notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)

disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!

masterlist

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others

yourusername 🌸

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yourbestie 👀

↳ yourusername 🙈

yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍

f1gossip

2,993 likes

f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️

View all 202 comments

user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs

↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄

user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here

user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!

user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others

landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙

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user happy lando >>>

user Where’s your girlfriend

user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo

user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u

↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭

f1gossip

12,321 likes

f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀

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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍

user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now

user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.

user she looks so kind 🥺🥺

user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child

user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her

landoupdates

7,626 likes

landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”

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user her face card is insane.

user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL

user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭

user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩

user honestly she’s my new fav wag

user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo

user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT

f1gossip

11,234 likes

f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀

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user not them clowning him 😭

user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top

user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹

user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩

user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”

user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N

user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹

landoupdates

5,389 likes

landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️

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user literally my fav couple

user when is he gonna make it officially on insta

↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.

user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today

user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics

↳ user LOL you’re so real for that

landonorris

liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others

landonorris We so good ❤️

View all 4,201 comments

user THE HAND PLACEMENT

user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭

↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private

user When will it be my turn 😩

user LANDO??? OMFG

user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊

user omggg i can’t, they’re goals

user Y/N IS SO CUTE

user i luv my parents

[amnestria-the-elf]

So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).

I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.

Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.

First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.

Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."

For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.

Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)

And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.

Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.

The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.

I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.

[misteriios]

❝ right, that's funny ❞ kai chuckled ; she seemed to find words for everything. he had not heard, nor met anyone who expressed themselves in that way. you could meet new interesting people every day ❝ jeff who? i have never heard of that name before. ❞ many people he hadn't heard of. happens when you barely know much about the world outside of your childhood home ❝ sounds as an exciting life, though. ❞ he listened more than he talked right now, which was new, but he thought maybe that's what you must do to meet people. nah, this wouldn't change him ❝ guess i haven't been living, not that i have. stuck at home in a coven and family that decided they needed more kids. really, and what kind of magic do you use? i had to siphon magic from another witch or objects to use it, but i don't have to anymore. sometimes can it be fun, especially to people who deserve it, or doesn't deserve to have their magic ❞ he nodded, continued a brief second later ❝ it definitely gets boring to use it all the time. you must be creative sometimes. i'm out of ideas, but maybe we can come up with something. siphon the magic, or what it is, doesn't work, so it's powerful or something else i haven't met before ❞

misteriios​:

“mhm, not every day, but weird shit happens now and then when you least except it” he thought most of them were fun. might be the only one to think they are. what he thought was fun could others not understand. kai chuckled and frowned “how is it not fun? you can’t only see the light in life, can you? would be boring then” another way to see life in a way not others saw it. he had always been different “really, i haven’t heard of that before unless it’s magical weeds witches use in their withcy potions. nothing’s good if you over do it, have i been told” magic wasn’t good to use too much, especially not dark magic, he didn’t care much about that “oooh, funny way to express your anger, or whatever that is. i have tried too many times to get out of here because it feels as a prison world, but nothing i do works and most of the times it has. there’s something weird going on here”

“Well fuck. So much for landing myself in a world that isnt always going tits down for once.” She really needed to find a way back to her kingdom before there was nothing left to go back to. “Oh believe me I do. I think its absolutely adorable. But I’ve just seen so much whimsical bullshit in the last six years to last me a good couple decades. Like eat, smoke and drink anything Jeff Goldblum gives you without asking kind of decades. I mean, goddamn egg hole and terraforming fairy mother fucking bitches really had us going there for a hot minute. But it came with some benefits, not many but a few.” She gives him a light chuckle. “Oh I can be a real bitch of a witch, baby. And if you’ve never hear of Ambien before then you haven’t been living. Granted I could probably just use magic but it gets boring as death using it for every little damn thing.” Margo doesn’t even try to stop the sassy look and tone she instantly adapted. “Well, now that we have a nuts squeezing grip of the obvious, would you like to help me come up with a solution? Or have you cocked out on it already?” 

[griddlebait]

since i couldn’t post the new chapter to celebrate the one year anniversary of sckl and a few of you said you wanted to read it, i'm sharing the first scene of chapter 25 below the cut.

(keep in mind that this is before beta-reading and final edits so a few things might change when the chapter is posted!)

Just past one in the morning, Gideon quietly let herself into her apartment. She carefully placed her shoes on the rack and tiptoed through the living room, assuming that all of her roommates were either asleep or trying to get there, but she soon noticed a dim, fuzzy glow emitting from the kitchen. Not all of her roommates, then.

Harrow was sitting on the counter with the refrigerator left open in front of her so she didn’t have to turn on an overhead light. Gideon wasn’t surprised; she caught her like this every now and then, most times eating individual ingredients or cold pasta straight from the tupperware container or chugging all the water she’d forgotten to drink that day. Tonight she lacked that manic, starved alleycat quality to her movements—she was looser, relaxed, nonchalantly glancing over her shoulder and languidly straightening her posture at the confirmation of Gideon’s presence—but Gideon still spotted a cup of water clutched in her hand when she rounded the bar. 

“Where have you been?” Harrow asked the moment Gideon reached the line between carpet and tile.

“Am I in trouble?” Gideon whispered back sarcastically.

Harrow’s fingers idly tapped against the plastic cup in muted, arrhythmic thumps. Her voice was curiously hoarse as she said, “That depends on where you’ve been.”

Gideon didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but it warmed her face and prickled her skin. “I was downstairs with Nona,” she elaborated automatically. “She asked me to help her pick out her nail polish colors. And we watched the Ghostbusters movies. And then fell asleep by accident.”

Harrow stared at Gideon. She blinked. She dropped her eyes. Then she said, “okay,” and there was slight resignation in the drooping of her shoulders, an audible settling in the quietness of her voice. She looked down into her cup as if the water inside was suddenly supremely interesting. 

“So … am I in trouble?”

Harrow didn’t look up. “I suppose not.”

The air between them thinned out like a window had been opened and Gideon realized, feeling unlike herself, that she’d gone in the wrong direction. She was supposed to play along and make up something ridiculous yet interesting, like that she’d actually been out at a leather bar with Ianthe getting into fights for fun. She should have given Harrow something to at least roll her eyes at, but she didn’t, and the moment passed, and it was already too late. 

That kept happening these days. Gideon tried not to kick herself too hard about it this time. She wasn’t convincingly dressed for a leather bar anyway. 

Harrow turned to set her cup down on the counter, allowing Gideon a better view of her face. She looked almost as if she’d just rolled out of bed: her cheeks held a curious flush in the yellow light and the ends of her hair were sticking to her forehead and temples, the rest of her grown out buzz cut tousled and poking up in random places. Her expression was blank and tired and gave absolutely no hints at what she was thinking about, so Gideon attempted to read her body language, lowering her eyes and—and—

And Harrow’s arms were extending upwards and curling behind her head in a lazy stretch, and that movement sent her shirt riding up on her stomach to reveal more than a couple inches of bare skin. Gideon privately remarked, her mind growing a bit foggy and distant, that she had never actually seen Harrow’s stomach before.

Which wasn’t a big deal. Stomachs were super common. So were belly buttons. There was no reason to die of shock at the non-revelation that Harrow had both a stomach and a belly button. It was just that every inch of her skin that Gideon had seen before now had been empty and blank—naturally speaking, anyway; Gideon had given her wrist a permanent blemish that summer—and, although it wasn’t as if she’d thought about it specifically, Gideon kind of assumed that the rest of Harrow’s skin would be equally as plain. So even if everyone had a belly button and it was neither impressive nor profound that Harrow also had one, Gideon found herself momentarily transfixed by the small dark brown speck just to the left of it. A freckle, or a mole, or a birthmark, Gideon couldn’t tell with the distance and lighting.

It seemed impossible that you could know someone for their entire life and still keep finding things to learn about them. Gideon thought it was wildly unfair that it had taken nearly twenty-one years for her to discover this very simple fact about Harrow, and then she wondered if something could even be considered a discovery if it had already been discovered by someone else. She found this to also be wildly unfair.

She blinked so hard rainbow flurries danced behind her eyelids and she narrowly avoided physically shaking her head to clear her thoughts like an Etch-A-Sketch. Harrow was totally oblivious to the attention and finished her stretch, dropping her arms to her sides; her shirt slid back down until there was nothing but a thin sliver of skin above the waistband of her pajama pants left exposed. 

The refrigerator was safer to look at. They ran out of orange juice this morning. Cam probably added it to the grocery list already.

“So did you stay up just to get on my ass about coming home late?” Gideon asked. Her throat felt strange.

“No,” Harrow said. After a brief stretch of silence, each word lulling with hesitation like she hadn’t quite decided if she actually wanted to say what she was in the middle of saying, she tacked on: “I was with Camilla.”

That made sense. That explained—yeah. Okay. Not really information Gideon needed to know, but okay. Waves of disappointment rolled through her chest, embarrassment following soon after. She’d been mostly joking—Harrow never needed a reason to stay up—but it was unwelcomingly humbling to be told that no, Harrow hadn’t been waiting for her, and in fact had been plenty busy with somebody else. 

The fact that Gideon had been doing the same thing in a different context, and the question of how much that context mattered and why, were such fleeting, whispering thoughts in the back of Gideon’s mind that they might as well not have been there at all. 

"What, you guys don't have sleepovers?" she asked, her voice supernaturally relaxed as opposed to the unsteadiness she felt internally. 

“No,” Harrow said, and Gideon already knew that. 

"Guess I’m special then,” she pressed because she couldn’t help herself.

“You’re—Yes. You are unique in that.”

That, too, confirmed what Gideon already knew. She still felt better for hearing it. 

Harrow’s leg brushed against Gideon’s elbow as she slid off the counter, but she didn’t seem to notice. She stepped forward and shut the fridge, casting them into a darkness that was only salvaged by streaks of moonlight slipping through the curtains, and turned back to Gideon drenched in shades of gray. 

Gideon wasn’t sure what she expected—nothing, really, she wasn’t expecting anything. It was her body that pulled taut with unnamable anticipation when Harrow looked her in the eye. It was the briefest of glances, and Gideon still could not maintain the contact; she unsteadily cast her gaze anywhere else. Harrow stepped past her to leave without letting the moment linger.

“Goodnight, Griddle.”

Gideon exhaled, her body sinking as if she’d been released. Harrow didn’t notice. She was already halfway through the living room. That was as much of a relief as it was a disappointment. 

“Goodnight,” Gideon replied a beat too late. Refusing to let herself watch Harrow go, she settled for listening to the sound of her footsteps grow quiet and distant. 

[vemuabhi]

What Sanji is like when Falling in Love

- Ft. Chubby Reader

Hey People! After a long time, I'm here with a Sanji Fic. Please show me your love and support by reblogs.

The part-2 is here people. Please check it out!

What Sanji is like when falling in love

Pairing : Sanji X Fem! Chubby! Reader

Prompts taken from : Bas-writes (4 ; 6 ; 21 ; 30)

Warnings : A bit suggestive but non really. Mostly Fluffy ; Thick Thighs Save lives ; Stretch marks ; Making food for Reader ; Loving Touches

Word count : 1.7K

copyright © vemuabhi

Though Likes are cute and all, Please Reblog me if you like my writings.

Lazy afternoons

The travelling on the sea has been fun because of the crew and their liveliness but there are some days when everything is very quiet like, sometimes Luffy and co. are so serious and trying to fish, sometimes they are all playing some random game which is just not at all understandable. Only Luffy, Ussop and Chopper could understand and play it. No one else can even understand it. Except for Robin who denies she understood to avoid playing. Nami doesn’t care and doesn’t wish to know what they are doing. Now today, the trio fell asleep post lunch leaving the crew to calm down and rest for the time.

Leaving you and Sanji near the Tangerine trees on the back of sunny. Both of you were tired after cleaning up the plates and kitchen. The empty glasses of orange juice were on the table. It was too hot and luckily Sanji got you the juice to cool you down. You both sat on the bench which had the umbrella to protect you from the sun. Sanji had dark circles under his eyes and his eyes kept drooping.

“Do you wanna sleep”, your question made him to turn towards you and smile. He glanced towards his shoes and nodded.

“Yesterday’s night watch is making me like this Y/N”, he said as his tired blue orbs met yours.

“You are tired. Lay down. Ill make sure no one disturbs you for a while”, you said as you took the book which was on your lap and placed it beside you. Sanji’s cheeks reddened as he noticed your action.

“Am I… Supposed to-”

“Yeah, you can. I mean no force ofco-”

“I’ll. I’ll take up the offer”, he said while you took your kerchief and wiped the blood from his nose making the latter gulp.

Sanji slowly placed his legs on the bench and leaned down on your lap. The moment he felt your soft thighs on his cheek, he almost got a nosebleed again but he tried his best to not die. Noticing his nervousness, you ran your fingers in his hair making him flinch at the touch but he soon accepted your touch. Your soothing touch and the soft thighs made him to calm down. The sound of the waves relaxed him to the core. A yawn escaped his mouth. He closed his eyes and within seconds he fell asleep. His soft snores indicated how tired he was after making so much food for the rowdy crew.

After sleeping peacefully for a while, he woke up to the sky turning orange and the soft cushion wasn’t a cushion. Upon careful inspection he noticed that it was your thighs and his eyes widened at how long he had slept on your divine lap till now. He got up and apologised at his behaviour which you chuckled.

“Don’t have to be sorry Sanji. I’m happy that you to sleep till now”, you smiled at him making his heart skip a beat. As he was about to say something, the captain yelled for Sanji asking for food as he noticed the blond was awake now. That made you to giggle.

“They cant live without you”, you said suggesting him to go to feed them which he obliged. Sanji’s new fetish unlocked. Your thighs. Your soft plump thighs.

Needless to say, after that day you found Sanji come to you whenever he was tired and sleepy. He wanted to feel your touch in his golden locks. He wanted his cheeks to be met with the best pillow in the world, your thighs. Of course, he wasn’t vocal about all that but anyone could understand his actions at that point. You certainly allowed the cook to rest on your lap whenever he approached you. Sanji, was not the guy who would show his vulnerable side to women. But he started to slowly show that to you.

Sometimes he would just lay down on your lap and face you while you both talked about nothings. He would talk about the general topics which ranged from the news he had read that day to talking about the songs which he heard recently. Sometimes he made jokes which weren’t that funny but that’s what made them funny. You never not laughed at his jokes. Never knew Sanji was so talkative, usually he would always listen but when someone is listening to him, he opened up more and more. The heart eyes of Sanji never appeared during these times and he stayed calm. His eyes showed… adoration.

Little treats for the little deeds

After you had let him sleep on your lap, he never once missed to give you a special dessert or a special dish in gratitude. His way of showing you thankyou was it. While you guys were at the dinner table, he always… always made sure to slip a little treat near your plate making you smile at him while you nibbled on it.

“Ah! Not fair! Even I want that whatever Y/N is having”, Luffy cooed being yelled by the cook to shut up and eat his share of meat. His blue eyes looked into your direction while you still continued to smile at him. He had to avert his gaze from yours to stop his spreading blush more obvious to the rest of the members.

Sanji, being so precise while he selected ingredients for cooking, he made sure to especially be careful while he worked on yours. Some times when he would just be engrossed in his cooking book to a point where he wouldn’t even notice you coming into the kitchen. You would just sit across from him and continued to read your book. The silence with Sanji was also what you fancied soon enough. His presence was just… that calming.

When he finally had noticed you, he would gasp making your gaze turn towards him. His porcelain skin turned red as he smiled and walked towards you. He sat on the table and talk about the recipe that he was going to prepare.

“Everyone would be so amazed by this, I’m telling you”, he said as he gently took your hand in his and rubbed his thumb gently. “So, I feel like, I’ll be needing… somebodies help to make it”, he then looked at you with a slight pout.

“Haha, so tell me mister cook, what should be done?”, his smile grew, he pulled your hand and lead you to the counter to prepare the food. Sanji could easily make it on his own. He didn’t require anyone’s help. He could just have you sitting there being pretty while he cooked, but he didn’t want you to leave. And what way to keep you around than to ask your “help” because he “can’t” do it on his own.

Lets just say that cooking never felt this fun before. It felt refreshing to be cooking along side Sanji. He just knew… just knew how to make it right. The little intimacy moments you had shared were what made it so important to you both.

Tender Touches

Sanji had never been in a relationship. Not once his fate aligned with his pursue of love. Now that the stars had listened, he had a chance with you. But he didn’t want to get too cocky.

Then you could expect how thrilled he was when you asked him if he wanted to help you apply sunscreen. He almost crashed while approaching you. You laid down on the lawn chair with your back facing the sun. Sanji almost had a nosebleed when he touched your back. Just as he thought, you were so soft. He thought of your thighs as a reference when he imagined how soft you would be over all.

He applied the sunscreen on your back, while he lingered a bit too long holding the softness of your love handles. He gulped after the task was completed. You held his tie and pulled him closer to you and placed a kiss on his cheek making him to fall to his knees while he still gazed at you. That resulted you to again wipe the blood from his nose.

“You’ll have to get used to that, Sanji kun”, you ruffled his silky hair while he just chuckled. He blinked slowly as his gaze fixed on you. The crew could literally feel butterflies in their stomach when they watched you two. Like how Sanji’s wishes came true. That made him to lean into you to place a kiss on your soft plump cheek. His sudden action made you to chuckle, while he raised on eyebrow, “You sure you can handle it Y/N”. Maybe he could get cocky after all.

Silver marks

Night watch was especially given to one member and Luffy, chopper were exception from it. Sometimes when he was on night watch, there were you, leaning your back on the ship rail while his arms were on wither sides of you. He smelled really good. As if he took a shower just then. There were little to no space between you two. He used to get flustered and shy in the beginning but, as time went on, he was getting more and more confident on initiating kisses.

Tilting your head to right by placing his fingers under your chin, and closing the gap between you two. Your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him even closer while deepening the kiss. Your fingers gently laced in his golden locks. His hands travelled to your thighs and pulled them up, aligning them on his waist while his slender, but damn strong arms carried you to place you on the bench.

Sanji pulled away from the kiss to look at your body beneath him. His gaze shifted towards your top, which was ridden almost past your stomach. Now for the first time, he almost had a full view of your torso. His fingertips traced along the silver lines on your body. You could see the love and lust glimmer in his blue eyes because of the moon. His white cheeks were turning pink, and his breathing was getting heavy because of the stretch marks on you. New kink unlocked. Stretch marks. Your Silver marks.

copyright © vemuabhi

Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

[fuck-customers]

Customer got pissed cause I refused to take his change.

This was an obligatory "oh wait I have the change" only said after you've already input the amount they hand you first moment. As it stands, I've been working with registers and money for years now, so needless to say I'm quick at getting change to avoid this exact instance. 9/10 times I manage to have their change ready before the dreaded "oh actually" even leaves their stupid mouths. As was the case in this scenario. Guy's purchase was 34.70 or some shit, he hands me a 50. Okay cool. I put it in, and as I'm getting his bills he goes "Actually, I have the 4.70" and proceeds to start pulling out piles, and I mean fucking PILES, of 10/20 cents. I look at that, look at him, and then hold out the change with a "That's okay. Here's your change."

He frowns, in the way they usually do when dipshits realise they can't offload a small fortune in loose coins, and goes: "No, I'll give you the 4.70"

"No, that's okay. I've already put it through. Here you go."

"But I'm tired of carrying all of this around" (then go to a fucking bank, jackass)

"Sorry, once the money enters the register it's against policy to alter it" (a lie. I'm just too lazy and underpaid to count all that)

He then proceeds to scatter what coins he'd managed to scrap out across the counter and basically demand I take it. I'm like lol no get fucked, just take ur change dick (customer service translation: I'm sorry sir, I can't do that. If you'd like, there's a change box in the players area, or you could make another purchase equal to that amount?)

He starts on this tyraid about how I'm just lazy (true) and the whole "kids don't want to work" spiel 🥱 Yeah yeah, whatever guy. Been there, heard this shit a million times. Be original or get outta my line.

At this stage I'm over holding his money out so I just put it down on the counter, and that sets him off even more. Goes off about how I couldn't even 'hand it to him like a decent person' (ironic, coming from the guy who just threw a small bounty on said counter) and snatches his money up with the, also obligatory, "I won't be coming back." Good. Don't. Find a bank and have them deal with your shit, crybaby.

If you're waiting in line at a grocery store/restaurant/anywhere, get your fucking money ready beforehand. If you know you have change you want to get rid of, have it on hand. Don't pull the 'let me fuck up your total and make you look like a moron while your brain short-circuits trying to find the new total' shtick. If you do this, you're garbage.

Posted by admin Rodney

[justali-anne]

Undertale special interest kicking in... I swear I'm never getting tired of these guys...

I can imagine them sometimes meeting up Post-Pacifist for game nights. Like... board games, card games, video games... I have a few headcanons about it.

Card/Board games:

Let's address the elephant in the room: Monopoly is banned. Just straight up banned. They played once... Never again. Let's just say by the end of the night there were magic spears wedged deeply into Toriel's new wallpaper... and the wall... and the brick of the house... And the window was shattered. Yeah, Monopoly, it's banned, it's banned.

Papyrus has no poker face whatsoever. Meanwhile, Sans and Frisk have VERY impressive poker faces, and they're both aware of it. Once, they formed some sort of secret alliance and they dominated poker night. It was Frisk's first time playing, too!

I imagine Frisk would just be a natural at all games, hands down. Well, kind of. They don't always win, but they learn very quickly. Jack of all trades, I suppose.

Undyne has this habit of flipping boards (a classic) and shooting magic spears whenever she loses at a game or just gets EXTREMELY passionate about it. Although, if Alphys or Papyrus are the ones that beat her, she'll grit her teeth and act happy for them, just to make them happy.

Unfortunately, Papyrus picked up on Undyne's bad habit and bones started scattering the walls. Toriel had to ban magic bullets in the house after one of them almost gave Frisk a concussion.

Asgore is pretty good at card games, actually! I like to imagine he sometimes spends time with old friends of his, like Gerson and stuff, and they would have tea and play games while they chat, so he's had a lot of practice.

Toriel, on the other hand, hasn't played any board games or cards in AGES thanks to her isolation in the Ruins. She's not terrible, but she's not particularly GOOD at them either.

Sometimes, certain members of the group would try to break Sans' calmness, because while everyone had gotten annoyed at one point or another during game nights, Sans never did. Long story short, nope, he's just too chill. He's just happy to be here.

Once, Alphys bought a Mew Mew Kissy Cutie board game for game night, and she was so excited to show everyone the ropes (and dominate the night for once). She only won one game. And then she had an identity crisis afterwards!

Snacks! They do a rotation on who gets to be in charge of the food! Undyne and Papyrus are NO LONGER in this rotation after they brought in flaming spaghetti and almost set the couch on fire. Even then, you could only really trust Frisk, Toriel and Asgore with the snacks, since Alphys doesn't cook (she brings in store-bought cupcakes, it's the thought that counts), and Sans always forgets or is just too lazy to get snacks, so he orders pizza.

Video games:

They meet up to play stuff like Smash Bros, Mario Kart and Mario Party, but when they play online multiplayer games, like Minecraft, Terraria etc. they just stay home and go on a Zoom call or something. It's a lot less stressful for the introverts of the group (mainly Alphys, but I suppose Toriel could qualify [Undyne and Papyrus are absolutely extroverts; Sans and Frisk are moreso ambiverts, I think]) because they don't have to go out to do it! Yay!

They do all the things typical friends do when they're playing online games! They troll, they tease, they laugh, they help each other out, they TRY to work as a team (emphasis on TRY)...

One of the games I'd like to see them play is Human Fall Flat (I have that game and I play it with my sister :]). I want to see some RAGE. I'm sure Papyrus would love doing the puzzles, but at the same time, I'm sure the others not cooperating or knowing what's going on would tick him off. Yessss... Let Papyrus rage.

Sometimes Alphys and/or Sans would trail off into some scientific conversation or tangent, and after a minute or so, the others would start yelling over them, "NERD!!! NERDS! NERRDDD!!!" Alphys would get flustered, and Sans would desperately try to keep his composure and try not to burst out laughing.

Undyne and Papyrus have the extraordinary ability to make even the calmest, simplest games intense. ESPECIALLY Undyne, oh my goooood. Though I guess she could use the extra stimulation, she will NOT settle for a game with a slow pace. So much for Animal Crossing.

In addition, the gang can get VERY competitive at Mario Kart and stuff. Undyne is obviously the most competitive, but I think Papyrus and Alphys would want to try and impress her. Frisk and Sans? Nah, they're chilling. They don't care, they're just here to watch the chaos. Yeah... There's a reason why Asgore and Toriel don't often play games with these guys. Though they would watch and look upon them fondly. I dunno, it just seems cute.

[otomiyaa]

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

[pikahlua]

the equating survival to a reward argument is so silly when like... pro-heroes also died during the first war arc. named pro-heroes like midnight and stars & stripes. with that argument, are these characters being punished, too??

then again, the same people making this argument also say horikoshi is too tired of this series (a tired assumption ppl always make about wsj mangaka) and too lazy and uncommitted towards any of his ideas; so, maybe its better to ignore these bad faith arguments.

"Too lazy and uncommitted towards any of his ideas"? They really say that??

It seems to me like the exact opposite is the issue! I'm pretty sure Horikoshi had this ending planned from very early on to emphasize the overall message, but as he wrote and fleshed out his characters, his writing opened up a totally different avenue he COULD have taken with them (the villains, for instance) that everyone EXPECTED him to take, but in the end he stuck to his original idea. Anyone who has written a long story likely knows that feeling of when what you write takes on a whole new form than you planned and you have to question if you wanna change your direction.

And none of that changes the fact that survival does not equal reward and death does not equal punishment. I've seen posts that claim OVERHAUL's survival is somehow a reward and I just go ????HUH????

[charmwasjess]

My tiny mountain town is a blue dot swallowed up in a sea of red. Our statistically-irrelevant town went for Harris. The larger counties around us all went for Trump. Here’s what this election looked like in the southeastern Appalachian on the front lines of that cultural divide: 

Outright unprosecuted voter intimidation: in the few blocks walk from my house to downtown, I can see a prop skeleton dressed as a Harris supporter hanging from a noose, and Harris yard signs slashed with a knife, others just ripped down to the cardboard.

Gerrymandering - years ago, these little-known poorer districts were redrawn around population centers in ways that give likely Republican strongholds more weight, particularly in rural areas like mine. Republican lawmakers literally have opened prisons in rural counties in my state to artificially inflate population numbers with people who can’t vote due to their felon status to tip the scales.  

Of course, the Electoral college, where US votes are decided by weight of a state’s respective collective population and importance rather than just the counted individuals votes

I’m not making excuses. I echo the rest of the world’s collective disgust and horror about the outcome. I am literally sick with my country. People will die because of this. People who don’t live here, people who didn’t get a choice or stake in the US elections, and who probably wish they’d never heard of the place. And people in my own community. 

Yet it is so easy to picture this election as the ultimate triumph of laziness and inattention, particularly in “ignorant hillbilly” places like where I live, which generally go for Trump without any fight - at least not one that shows up on an election night map. But the Republican right has been working for decades to put the legal, economic, and societal pressures that lead to this in place here. 

We fought hard. Grassroots campaigners, our organizers of LGBTQIA+ groups, leaders in our communities who showed up despite the fact that it put a target on their backs if shit went bad. Teachers fighting Republican-led mandates of ignorance and racism to choke out any thinking that might interfere with their political goals for their ideal voter base. Librarians who get death threats for having kid’s books dealing with gender or queerness in the public libraries. 

These are not imagined examples, these are things that happen to real people I know in my tiny blue community. And the violent, right-wing party, the party that promised to make this second Trump term one of revenge and retribution, knows who those people are too. 

The Charlottesville “Ignite the Right” attack happened in my backyard. I had friends on that street when a self-described neo nazi drove into a crowd and killed Heather Heyer and injured 35 others. Trump was president when it happened; he called the alt-right who invaded Charlottesville with guns and armor and torches that day “good people.” 

I have no faith in my party now. It feels like we’re still trying to play a game we lost years ago, while the other side is busy winning a new game, one where they get to make up all the rules. 

I realize that there are greater global trends at play - incumbents being ousted, a swing to the right, post-pandemic economic scrambles - larger issues than the difficulties of voter suppression in my rural American communities. I'm not in a great mindset to consider them this week. I've been politically active since I was old enough to vote, and it feels like we always build so much momentum and then slam facefirst into this fucking invisible wall.

Honestly? I’m so tired and depressed and anxious, I feel like I can barely function right now. At the same time, I’m disgusted by my own despair and whining. What gives me the right to stop trying now, when so many people across the globe are facing the same anger and exhaustion? When so many people are in more active danger, with less options than I have?

Anyway, I wanted to write something out about the election, maybe just to let go of the words and get them out of me. I'm a queer politically active liberal in a Republican-dominated rural space. Next week, I'll read all the posts about hard work and hope and building support networks. This week, I just need a fucking minute on the floor.

[roseriki]

A bed made for two

pairing. riki x gn reader

genre. fluff

word count. 727

authors note. first post! new to the tumblr experience since i'm an ao3 migrant. hope you enjoy reading :)

Dawn’s rays cast a glow over the room as you blinked your eyes open. Stuck in that familiar haze of being glued to the bed, you lay and appreciated the feel of the blanket draped over your body. Far off birdsong sounded, faint and melodious. You felt like today was going to be a good day, shifting under the covers to get up and be productive.

Except, you seemed to have blanked out a tall figure beside you, his arms wrapped around you firmly. It was nothing new to you; this was a common occurrence for Riki to hug you in his sleep. In fact, you found his habit quite endearing. Despite all of the rigorous training he has undergone, and will still undergo, he would always retain that lovely childishness.

Though, his weight wasn’t that of a child’s anymore, so you couldn’t wriggle free from his grasp. You tried to pry his arms off, yet they remained wrapped around you, tightening protectively, his brows set in a furrow. You knew he slept like the dead, but you tried to wake him anyway. This peaceful morning was one that he shouldn’t miss.

“Riki,” you said, voice raspy, “Let me out.”

Your words fell on deaf ears, as Riki continued to sleep, caging you in.

Admittedly, it was comfortable being held so close, as if you were the most precious thing on earth. As if you were precious to him. The warmth he exuded drew you closer—if that was even possible—like the opposite end of a magnet. In many ways, he was magnetic: he was fun-loving and playful, he was charismatic and personable, he was determined and talented. He must have drawn in so many people, and yet you were the one he chose to sleep beside.

However, just because he was a great guy didn’t mean he could keep you from doing your morning routine. Not even his adorable sleeping face would sway your convictions. You spoke his name louder, swinging your legs to bump against his.

“Riki. If you don’t wake up right now, I’m eating your bungeoppang.”

His eyes shot open, urgency clear on his face, “Don’t you dare.”

He was finally up. Usually, it would take much longer to coax him to do so. You thanked the you of yesterday for purchasing some bungeoppang from a store, as that being mentioned was what startled him awake. Typical Riki, worried about the wellbeing of his food.

Pouting slightly now, he was annoyed he was made to wake up early. It was something he wasn’t fond of doing, especially when the sun was shining directly on his face. To appease your indignant boyfriend, you freed your arms to hug him, fingers tracing the planes of his back. The discovery that you gently touching him made him flush and look downwards was one that made you feel giddy. You abused the knowledge, of course, to wipe that petulant look off his face.

“Sorry,” you smiled, not apologetic at all, “I just wanted to show you how nice it is out today.”

“I prefer the bed. It’s too early to get up…” he whined, tugging the blanket further up.

“So you just plan on sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Come on… Get up for me?” you begged, showing him your best pleading expression.

Riki huffed, “No. I want to sleep with you for longer.”

The finality in his tone stopped you from saying any more. He settled into your arms, preparing to sleep again. At this point, you were too tired to keep trying to convince him to peel himself off the mattress and contribute to society, so you sighed and snuggled with him. Maybe today could be a lazy morning.

You were quickly getting sleepier in his presence, eyes drooping. Once, you heard that it was easier to fall asleep next to your lover because of brain chemicals and trust. While you weren't so sure about what chemicals were making you want to nod off, you were certain you trusted Riki. You wouldn't lay in bed so intimately with whoever, and he was incredibly sincere.

As you drifted off into slumber, you allowed yourself to feel relaxed. Tirelessly, the birds continued to sing. The sun continued to rise. Riki continued to be annoyingly perfect. You thought you felt a pair of lips ghost your forehead before the world became nothingness.

[neon-junkie]

Chef!Crosshair x Server!Reader Headcanons

This has been stuck in my drafts for a while, so I figured I'd tidy it up, and hit post. Reader is gender-neutral. 2k words. I think Crosshair would deffo be a chef in a modern setting! A little self indulgent as I'm a bartender/server... hehehehe...

Crosshair isn't quite the top dog, but second in line. Still, he runs the kitchen, and Maker forbids anybody to step out of line when Crosshair is on shift.

Or in general, for that matter. Crosshair has no problem breaking one of his chefs down to tears if they forget one simple task, like day dotting food stock, or ensuring that the fridges are at the correct temperature.

"A baby could do this job better than you. Why can't you pull your karking socks up, and get some sense through your thick skull?!"

Crosshair is a big meanie, to put it blankly. He has respect for those who do their job right, but if you're acting like an idiot in his kitchen, then all hell will break loose.

He's snappy to the front of house staff, too. Including the servers. Didn't scrape the plates enough? That deserves a telling off. Rushing him for orders? Fuck off. And if you dare steal a chip? Might as well die.

Crosshair doesn't like mess, clutter, or laziness, and everybody knows damn well how much it irritates him. Just don't be stupid, essentially.

Anyway, you've applied to this popular street food style restaurant. It's not posh, far from it. The food is fatty and filling, the perfect hangover cure, and you're guilty of being a regular.

The Manager, Hunter, doesn't seem surprised when you apply, and your interview is essentially a chit-chat, getting to know each other, seeing as you've already met from coming in on the regular.

It's finally time for you to put your uniform on, and be introduced to the rest of the staff. Everybody is lovely, to say the least, as you've met them before from being a customer.

Then you go into the back of house, and meet those who have blessed your stomach time and time again.

Hunter's eyes trail the kitchen before he asks, "where's Cross?" and another staff member shrugs whilst replying, "out the back."

Hunter, after letting out a grumble, leads you to the back entrance, explaining that this is the staff smoking area. Just as he's about to step outside, the door opens, and a tired-looking man in pristine chef's whites stands in the doorway.

He lets out another puff of his cigarette before discarding it, only to choke on the smoke as his eyes meet yours. His hand comes up to clear his throat, and you notice the tattoos and burn marks scattered over his toned arms. He's clear of jewellery, but you instantly know he's the type to wear rings and chains when he's off shift.

"Cross, I want to introduce you to our new server," Hunter pulls his gaze from yours, and after saying your name, Crosshair fails to make eye contact with you.

Only now do you notice his face tattoo, darkly contrasting against his silver hair. Is it dyed? Or is he really this stressed out from his job?

"Nice to meet you," Crosshair mutters as he extends his hand, and shakes yours. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have stock to count."

And with that, he's pushing past you and Hunter, disappearing into the kitchen.

Hunter turns back to you with a sigh, "he doesn't talk much. Not a fan of strangers, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."

Oh, how right Hunter is.

Your first week went well, and you're slowly starting to establish a place for yourself within your new work environment.

Today is your usual weekday shift. Not too busy, but not slow paced either. The lunch rush has finished, and you're tasked with cleaning up tables. Another stack of plates is brought into the kitchen, and you're going through them one by one, scraping the leftovers into the bin before stacking them on the shelves for the pot washer to clean, when he's back from his cigarette break.

You can feel somebody's eyes on the back of your head, practically burning a hole through your skull. Curious, you peer over your shoulder, and lock eyes with Crosshair.

He's attempting to prep some vegetables, and narrowly misses his finger whilst chopping them, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Only, once your eyes meet his, Crosshair looks back to his task, acting as if he wasn't just staring at you.

So, you turn away, only to look back at him when his voice fills the air.

"It's nice to have some competence around here," Crosshair comments. You let out a soft "hm?" so Crosshair continues. "Most of the other servers leave their plates a mess, barely scraped, stacked in the wrong order. It's nice to have a server who knows how to do their job."

"It's not like it's hard," you say with a shrug.

"Exactly," Crosshair looks back up at you, and you notice the upwards turn to his lips.

You return to your task after matching his smile, and you're both content with the silence in the air.

Once finished, it's time for your break. Whilst you would usually ring your staff food through without a second thought, you decide to ask Crosshairs permission first.

"Hey, I know you're doing prep, but do you mind if I ring my food through? I can wait if-"

"-What would you like, Sweetheart?" Crosshair asks, wiping his hands clean as he makes his way over to the grill.

"Uhm… a burger?" your mind falls blank, mostly because you're not used to having a chef seem this happy with cooking.

"Is that it?" Crosshair raises his brow. "Come on, you can come up with something more creative than that. Tell me what toppings you like."

Before you know it, you're going into depth about exactly how you like your burgers. All the while, Crosshair is nodding in agreement, and even chimes in with comments here and there. You soon ring your order up, and whilst waiting for it to cook, you return to cleaning your tables, all whilst your heart is pounding with butterflies in your chest.

Back in the kitchen, Crosshair catches himself smiling as he cooks your meal. He doesn't even realise how sappy he's being until he squirts the burger sauce onto the bun in the shape of a heart, soon to be hidden by a patty cooked to your liking.

"What's got you all cheery?" Hunter questions as he peers in the kitchen, bewildered at Crosshairs content expression.

Crosshair slips his emotional mask back on as he meets his brother's eyes, "just excited for my cigarette break."

One month into your new job, and you're more than happy here. The customers are nice, your coworkers are great, and the food is to die for!

Sure, you're in the honeymoon phase, but you'll enjoy it whilst it lasts.

Crosshair is slowly opening up to you, but he's been the toughest egg to crack. Whilst everybody else has no issue with jumping straight into conversation, Crosshair tends to keep his mouth shut, minus the odd hum and one-word reply here and there.

Only, you've seen him speak to others. Well, not speak… scream! Crosshair has no issue with shouting at his cooks over the smallest of things. He's even barked at the other servers, too. You know that he's overall disliked within the workplace, but sometimes, you can understand Crosshairs point of view.

He's right. It's not hard to do your job right, keep your area tidy, and be efficient. Maker knows how your co-workers manage to screw the smallest of things up, and sure, you've made mistakes here and there, and always bent over backwards to fix them.

But despite Crosshair's tough demeanour, deep down, he's a real sap. Or at least, he is towards you.

You've noticed that you can get away with certain things, such as nibbling on a few leftover chips whilst waiting for orders to be plated up, or using different abbreviations when ringing up orders.

You didn't even realise that wasn't the norm, until a fellow coworker commented, "Crosshair lets you eat the leftover fries? He swatted my hand away when I tried to do that, just like everybody else."

Maybe it's because you bring Crosshair a cup of coffee to his liking at the start of every shift? Or because you always let out comments here and there about how good the food is presented?

Maybe it's just because Crosshair has a thing for you, as much as he denies it. You are his favourite server, but Maker forbid that anybody knows, despite it being painfully obvious.

Obvious to everyone, but you.

You finally catch on during one stressful shift. A customer, as cursed as they are, broke you down to tears. You remained stiff lipped whilst taking a beating, but the second you entered the back of house, tears started rolling down your cheeks.

Hunter takes the burden of the customer off your shoulders, and orders you to go and take a moment to yourself out back.

The fire exit door swings open, and you storm out, holding back a choked sob as you take a seat on one of the many empty crates resting against the building.

Your head falls into your hands, elbows resting on your knees, and finally alone, you begin to cry.

Only, you're not alone. Crosshair is on the other side of the door, back resting against the wall with a forgotten cigarette pressed between his fingers. He can hear you crying, and after swallowing his feelings, and allowing them to settle in his uneasy stomach, he discards his cigarette and decides to approach you.

"Customers, huh?" Crosshair questions as he takes a seat beside you, not bothering to ask if you need a friend. He knows damn well that you do.

A series of incoherent words fall from your lips, but Crosshair can piece them together. You're venting about what just happened, mumbling and babbling away, blowing off steam with your favourite chef by your side.

In the midst of offloading your anger, Crosshair decides to weave his arm around your shoulders, and gently pull you into his grasp.

He doesn't even realise what he's done until your head comes to rest on his shoulder, lashes fluttering against his sensitive Adams apple, still venting away whilst a hand caresses your shoulder and back.

"And you wonder why I work in the kitchen," Crosshair comments, earning a laugh from you.

"Maybe I should switch, and start working in the kitchen with you," you say with a light chuckle.

Despite his stomach turning at the idea, Crosshair puts on a smile as he replies, "that wouldn't be so bad. I'm sure I could put up with you."

"Put up with me?" you repeat with a gasp, straightening your back to meet his eyes. All Crosshair does is give you a shrug, with a cheeky grin on his lips. "Phfft, I'd be the one putting up with you. I've seen how you bark at your chefs," you continue.

"I don't bark," Crosshair says with a playful glare. "I bite."

You can't help but let out a laugh, soon returning your head to his shoulder. "You wouldn't bite me," you boast.

Crosshair allows his cheek to rest against the top of your head. "I might do," he says eagerly, "but only if you waste stock."

"Oh, I'd definitely burn a burger or two," you admit, knowing damn-well that you're a riot in the kitchen.

In the midst of your nattering, Hunter makes his way through the back of house to find you, knowing that you're taking a breather outside.

Only he stops once he overhears your voice, and a certain chef talking to you.

Smiling to himself, Hunter decides that you don't need him - you have somebody else to take care of you, somebody who has been eager to talk to you, but is far more timid than he lets on.

Hunter's little plan is going smoothly, now that Crosshair is finally speaking to you, rather than keeping to himself in the kitchen.

After all, Crosshair is the main reason why you were hired. It's his own fault, drunkenly admitting that he thought a certain regular customer was attractive, and definitely his type.

Fate took its course, and Hunter found your CV in his pile only a few days later.

You were beyond perfect for the job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be even better for a certain chef.

[wienersmosh]

i've had enough time to ruminate on this now but here are my thoughts on lunchtime with smosh the podcast.

i obviously enjoy it bc it's ianthony content. ever since they reunited i kept hoping and praying they would start a podcast, and i got it. i appreciate all the random lore drops we otherwise wouldn't have gotten if they didn't start it.

but i sort of have to agree with the haters and critics that it's... not a very good podcast?

it really just feels like they phoned it in when coming up with ideas on how to appease the part of the fanbase that mainly watch smosh for ianthony. they couldn't even come up with a new original title, they had to reuse the title of an old defunct show which makes it so inconvenient to search for. and the title they used has nothing to do with food or eating, which just... doesn't make sense conceptually? not that the podcast has to revolve around food, but the title has nothing to do with the old show they reused it from other than them answering questions from fans.

i like erin and it's not her fault bc she's just doing her job, but... there is way too much of her "voice". and i don't mean just in a physical sense, but in the topics and tone of the podcast as well. it doesn't feel like i'm listening to ian and anthony have a conversation, it's more like i'm listening to their producer trying to annoy them. it's like the main objective of the podcast is to make fun of them for being elder millennials and show how "old" they really are compared to their employees and current fanbase, instead of, you know... the two of them having a conversation? overall it doesn't feel like the podcast is ian and anthony's, it's more like erin dougal's podcast that they happen to be on camera for.

we're only 4 episodes in, so if this podcast is going to be a mainstay and not a show that's going to last 20 episodes before they end it like they did with flashback, then i'm optimistic that it has plenty of time to improve. but so far it's just sloppy. the concept is lazy and under-developed. i understand what they were going for, which seems to be an emulation of the try guys' podcast the trypod, but why try to be another youtube channel's podcast? why not develop their own voice?

i understand some people could roll their eyes at this post, bc why intellectualize a series from smosh, which is a comedy youtube channel that shouldn't be taken that seriously? and i get that. but i'm tired of begging and having to be grateful for crumbs. smosh can be a comedy youtube channel and have video concepts that don't come off like last-ditch efforts or them phoning it in. i know ian and anthony are way smarter than this, so their podcast post-independence being like this comes off like they're insulting their own intelligence and their audience's.

[ko-existing]

i too have wondered why this "subject" (for lack of a better word) has become so saturated recently. in this "process" (again, not the right word, i apologize) of stripping yourself back to zero, doesn’t the addition of more & more empty words only contradict that? if everything that could be said about this has been said already, why say more?

when i "learnt" about this, i learnt solely from you (infiniteko), realitywarpingg and a little from Ada (before they made an AI chatbot in name of the poor woman). i read just a few posts from you all and that was all i needed, i remembered mySelf permanently in no time. i did try reading a couple of books back then (Lester Levenson, Nisargadatta Maharaj) but by the time i’d reached page 5 i realized they weren’t telling me anything i didn’t know already. less truly is more. regardless, it’s nice to see this gaining in popularity, and people have shared some interesting insights… my opinion is useless and illusory. :)

anyway, thank you for turning me back to mySelf. :) you (infiniteko) are a wonderful group of people, and your simple / condensed way of speaking was perfect for my lazy and limited attention span. it was hilarious, once i saw who i was, to discover how obvious and simple it has always been. your writings (and RW’s) come as close to that simplicity as words possibly can.

—🤍🏔️🎐

Thank you 🏔️🎐-Anon! I definitely agree with everything you said. Even if people are asking more and more questions, let them ask until they're tired. They'll notice the answer themselves, there's no doubt about that. In my illusory opinion (just like yours) adding more words doesn't necessarily do what one hopes they'd do. It's becoming too saturated, too wordy. The questions are multiplying and readers are relying heavily on the same words written differently. It's a cycle. In fact, the more you read, the more confusing it gets. This might sound controversial but the more we post and the more we repeat ourselves, the more we are contributing to the endless loop of waiting-reading-asking-seeking-waiting-reading. The best I can do is reblog the things we've said but I don't see a point in saying more than what has already been said. It should be enough by now, even if the questions asked are increasing, that's between them and themselves. They'll know they can't wait forever and are forced to finally rely on themselves.

You can read as much as you want to but what's the point if you're not going to be with yourself and see all the answers were in plain sight all along?

It's been a little more than an illusory decade since I first "learned" all of this. I had no idea about Tumblr or Instagram. It didn't take a hundred posts and a dozen accounts for it to click. It took nothing but myself. In your case (🎐-Anon) it took nothing but yourself. In W's case it took nothing but herself + pondering on the few hints given to all of us.

I see many people say that they "know" that all they need is themselves yet, they wait and hope for a new post by different accounts and think that now (with one more post) it will finally make sense to them, but if you are waiting for someone to give you that insight which "will finally say you free", you can wait for all of eternity, because the only thing that can free you is your-Self, not a post or an account.

(That's just my imaginary opinion, I'm not attacking anyone and neither is Anon.)

Also, Anon, you used a wind chime emoji🎐, do you prefer high or low tones? :)

PB

[apolloslyrics]

Lazy "Wards"

So today, I was lying in my bed, and I was thinking about how I desperately did not want to refresh my wards. I was feeling tired, burned out, frustrated, and just generally awful. I knew I needed to refresh them, but I also knew that it was going to take so much effort that I didn't have. Thus began the thought:

Is there an easier way to ward my space?

Turns out there is! Now, I know wards are normally random things you put in your room and re-do every once in a while, but ✨️these ones are fun and cool✨️. I compiled a list of the five easy wards I do for when I'm feeling absolutely AWFUL. Here they are!

Morning and Night Playlists

Make two playlists— one that you'll listen to as soon as you wake up, and one that you'll listen to right before you sleep. They don't have to have any specific genre; just do what you feel like you need during those times. Maybe even create a playlist cover photo if you're feeling inspired!

Turn your fan on

I am dead serious with this one, folks. It could technically be considered cleaning, but FUCK IT. Open your window and/or your door and turn on a fan. Let that air flush OUT the energy from inside and pull IN the good shit from outside. I would probably do this like once a week. Have fun with it! Maybe even play those playlists and have a whole dance party!

Stuffed Animal of the Month

That's right. You heard me. Choose a stuffed animal that will protect your space for a month. Next month, choose a different one. Repeat that for, like, forever or whatever. The important thing is that you choose a stuffed animal, you tell them "Hey, I need you to guard my shit," and you give them LOOOOTS of cuddles in return. I love this one a little too much.

Tape a picture of a sigil on your door

This one's for the people who are able to be out as a witch. If you can't do a sigil, even putting a picture of an animal or object is good enough! Just tape it to your door, either facing you or the outside, and let it do its thing.

Incense and screaming

This is more of a cleansing method than a ward. DO IT. Open your window and/or your door again, light that shit up, and scream out all the energy that you've been building up. Tell it to get-the-fuck-out or you'll roundhouse its ass. But also find the good shit and ask it to join you!

I hope yall like this post. I really liked making it!! These methods are probably not all new, and I'm most definitely not the one who invented them, but STILL. I like them and I hope you do too!