#because that city is a LOT. and i love it. there is so much of it there's so much to it

[athymelyreply]

Shrugging in on the USA one, specifically Philly: Philadelphia cream cheese isn’t actually from here. It was invented in New York and then later marketed with the name Philadelphia cream cheese because we were known for having really good dairy at the time. PA still has this reputation but it’s farther out from the city where the dairy stuff happens nowadays. A better food to represent Philly would be a cheesesteak or a soft pretzel. I would advocate for the latter, there really ain’t nothin like a good Philly pretzel, I mean look at them

Good gd just thinking about them is making my mouth water they are heaven in a brown paper bag <3

ANYWAYS I digress. The other thing about Philly is that though it is a beautiful city, we definitely don’t have any Oceanside scenic highways. The best we can give you are the Delaware and Schuylkill rivers, and they’re nowhere near that pretty.

While it’s very much a touristy thing I would say that Elfreth’s alley is definitely a really cute photo op, and it’d be a good way to represent the old city/revolutionary war era stuff which is definitely one of the things we’re known for (the liberty bell, Ben franklins house, the Betsy ross house etc etc.)

I know this has been a lot of rambling already and Ik this was just a silly little thing and I really liked your slides, so Im not trying to lecture, I just really love my city and can’t help but gush about it :). I may not live there rn (the suffering of not having access to Wawa and soft pretzels is killing me) but Ik always be a SE Pennsylvanian at heart.

my impressions of israeli cities as someone who's never been to israel

[bunny-jpeg]

heart-pounding satisfaction

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, teammates au, driver!reader, mean!reader, (implied) sub!max, reader is a bitch (affectionate), mean & degrading language (also dirty talk), face sitting/masturbation

a/n: i can imagine fans hating the reader for being so vocal, especially towards max, but in the world of formula one, it's do or die. i need these fuckers to get nasty!! this fic is also nasty as hell, don't look at me....

max had fucking lost it. he was convinced he had lost it. you two had been teammates for close to six months now. three months of off season, three months of the twenty-twenty-five season. and you drove him up the wall.

this was a teammate up in the making, red bull's savior, their prince and the princess plucked from haas and placed in a car next to him. it should all be roses, singing birds and happily ever after.

but you couldn't be more disinterested him. almost hostile. as you said to the press, "i am here to win. i respect max's previous teammates, but i won't fumble because someone needs a fifth title." not even glancing over at your teammate.

after that, other women felt boring. any city on the globe, he could easily find a lovely lady for the evening. someone to spoil with orgasms and a rocking bed, a tale for her to tell her friends the following afternoon. but lately it had felt like the only thing that got him excited was you. when you were mean.

it had been a long time since someone was mean to him. aside from comments online or snide comments from other drivers. everyone knew he was in charge, and his teammate should be second on command. but you had zero interest in that. he hadn't complained, and instead played along with the niceties of teamsmanship. he only did it because he didn't want it to stop.

he liked it, he liked it a lot.

and while max was in a self inflicted dry spell. you were taking a liking to the new found fame you've acquired. max had gone to get you from the hotel room a few times and every time a man had sheepishly left your hotel room.

"sorry, mate." they'd often say. that or, "holy shit, it's max verstappen." and only scurry off when max glared at them. willing to give these guys some action, but not your teammate? cruel woman.

regardless, he let your words tumble off your tongue. venom that turned into honey in his brain. the more you spoke, the more he wanted to jerk off. you had ruined him without a second touch.

as you lazily held the trophy for the canadian grand prix in your hand on the way back to the hotel in montreal. you leaned up against the wall of the elevator and laughed, "fourth, verstappen." your tone mocking, "i'm pretty sure if you were less of a bastard on the second turn you could've given stroll the podium he wants. he could've over taken piastri... you could've as well, but you've become comfortable."

max swallowed and the elevator door opened. he didn't exit until you did first. you reached around him and pulled him close to you. you looked marginally up at him and he said, "i...i'll win next time." he could already feel the red in his face.

you laughed, "sure, sure, verstappen. why, is daddy coming to visit?" you gave him a mocking look. you acted like you weren't heavily scarred with your own daddy issues. you at least had the option to never mention the man who pushed you until you broke through any barriers to get into f1.

he hated that he was getting aroused. that he could feel the spike in his soul as his heart skipped a beat. it could be cute if another woman was mean to him. but when you did it, it blew a fuse in his mind.

you laughed and looked at him, "you gotta get over it one day, max. if you don't that fucking bastard is going to outlive you." there was a moment of honesty, "if i want to beat you, i'd like you alive." then squeezed him for a moment more.

he swallowed then asked, "do you hate me that much?"

you pulled away and stalled in your step for a moment, you collected yourself quickly and said, "no... as much as you'd love to hear it. i don't hate you." you looked at him briefly, "you love being the villain. the lion, mad max, whatever else they call you. i'm just giving them the drama they want." you looked at the trophy, "beating you is just half the fun." you went to open the door to your room and max pressed himself up against you which made you drop the trophy and get squished between his solid body and the harder door.

"be mean to me. fuck... be fucking nasty with it." the words poured from his mouth, "just, be brutal." he swallowed, "but please, just give me a taste of you. i hate those bastards that get to fuck you every weekend. get to feel and taste you." he pressed you further, "give me a hard time and let me have my way with you."

you exhaled deeply and felt a quickening of you heart rate. you were quick to respond, "well then, verstrappen. why don't you make yourself useful and help me get my key out."

you could already hear the cheering in max's head as he helped you open the door. that you only assumed grew louder when you two started kissing. your arms wrapped around him as you got into the room backwards, your trophy left behind in the hallway. almost tripped over your shoes, but clothes were of little issue once max got your red bull branded t-shirt of you.

clothes tossed variously throughout the room before you two ended up in bed together. you rank your fingers down his chest and exhaled deeply. "you're a pain in my side, max. from the moment i met you. you were always the golden boy, the champion. god's gift to racing." you pinned him down on the bed and he shuddered.

"k..keep going." the heat was high in his face. he could feel the stagger of his heartbeat. it felt good. your words sounded like heaven, but yet it sank him down to the pits of hell.

"oh my god, you're pathetic! do you hear yourself, max? four championships and you're still chasing a prize that you'll never get." you straddled his chest and put your hands on his jaw. you looked down to stare in his eyes, "but yet you live in my head rent-free."

he exhaled, "imagine what you do to me." grabbed your hips and pushed your cunt over his mouth and nose. he gripped your ass and pressed your sex against his face and groaned loudly.

you had to brace yourself with your hands so you didn't go nose-first into the wall. his pace was brutal on you, his licks were sloppy. he was messy with his movements in a desperate attempt to bring you pleasure.

he was less like a lion and more like a desperate dog. you moaned loudly and held your position against the wall as he desperately ate you out. like a man starved.

you really had burrowed into his brain and invade every empty space in his skull until his thoughts were swamped with you.

"jerk yourself off, you useless idiot." you spat, "you're so used to girls getting you off. if you want to get off, you actually have to work for it. can you do that? actually work hard for something." you clenched your thighs around his head.

max kept one hand on your hip and the other around his leaky, achy cock. he groaned as he pleasure himself. it was hot, to see a sort of moral collapse on a four time world champion. that even a man with power, could be reduced to a moaning slut. you wondered how wet you could get lips.

if your wetness could stain his mouth as he made pleasure shoot through your body. you held onto the wall with one hand and a his short blond hair with the other. you shuddered and felt your nipples grow hard, "this feels fucking wrong." you yanked on his hair which only made him jerk himself off faster, "you have driven me crazy. everything you fucking hard, most would kill for. i at least want to give you a run for your money. actually make the wins feel real, because when i take over. when i beat you, it'll only make the victory sweeter." you arched your back a little more and moaned loudly.

the movements only continued and you felt the pleasure course up your body. the heat in your breathing as you closed your eyes for a moment to compose yourself. you croaked out through an intense feeling of pleasure, "fuck, max. i didn't know honestly that you got off to it." you panted heavily, "if i knew, i would've been nicer. but knowing your perverted ass, you would've gotten off to it. you would've loved if i was gentle and mean to you. a firm yet cuddly hand." you let out a sharp exhale and a small moan.

max would easily admit that any attention from you would go right to his cock. he continued to tease the blunt head as he orally pleasured you. the feeling of your thighs on his face and head. your pussy right up to his mouth and nose. he could feel the lack of oxygen, but it only increased the pleasure in his body. he felt like a live wire, he felt like a hurricane. it was an intense feeling that pounded in his chest. it left him sexually starving, a lion without a feast as he devoured you. and the way you tugged on his hair only drove him more mad.

"you love being used like that. hoping that i'll give you praise one day. but you're just a stupid, stupid boy. a toothless lion, a failure to your country. and your fucking family. you're a failure to me and that stupid trophy we left outside was evidence of that. do better, be better and maybe you'll be someone worth being on the same track at me." your words laced with venom, but held heavy sexual want as the pleasure continued to course through your body. your chest heaved and your pulse pounded. it felt hot, you felt hot. it was erotic in a way that would make most disgusted.

how dare the world champion be used like for your sexual gratification. while he pathetically jerked himself off. you allowed him to breathe out of his nose and his pants were heavily as air allowed blood to be pumped to somewhere other than his cock.

you hissed through a tense jaw as he continued to orally pleasure you, "you deserve to be some low-level job. get off the track and make yourself useful by picking trash off the stands." it only made him jerk his cock off harder. you panted heavily as the words tumbled out as pleasure near hit its peak, "get out of my way, i refuse to be second fiddle to you. i refuse to be in your shadow." you clenched your thighs around him tighter, "i am better than you, max verstappen." your voice toxic.

but yet, it made max cum all over himself. he groaned loudly and panted against your cunt as he continued to stroke himself to overstimulation while he continued to lap at your cunt hungrily. max had lost it, he had officially lost it.

it was the most erotic thing that he had ever been a part of. and years and years of a life like this had made him experience many interesting things. this topped everything. you groaned once more and felt the pleasure curl up inside of you.

it was becoming too much, with one more slew on words, "you cum to me calling you weak.. huh? interesting. i guess the great max verstappen is weak just like every other man. why call you a god of racing when i can make you whine and beg like a dog." you coursed under your breath. and then you came. you admitted to yourself, it was the closest to heaven you had ever be. damn max verstappen, damn him. you slowed your pace down and got fully off of his face before you got into bed.

he wiped his face with his hand and tried to go in for a kiss, but you put a hand over his mouth. you looked at him dead in the eyes. he looked at you quizzically.

"oh, you're not shutting me up until i can make you squirm with my words, verstappen. now get yourself hard again, i'm not done with you." <3

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part IV

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. And now he is in love. With you. He wants to move forward with you and now he's got you on his turf.

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two with my whole heart. This is turning into the slowest of burns, sorry not sorry. This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Bucky Barnes fic Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III. We're at the second week of December, there is still so much in my head to say. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, body parts tingling, wild wild thoughts of breeding, taking each other down in various ways, and cock riding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

On one of your many walks along the beach, you teased your cousin about being the future Mrs. Bucky Barnes, and she tried to get you to talk about Steve, explaining some of the backstory to what happened in Atlanta.

But you were intransigent. 

“Look. I know how stubborn you are. And how tough you are, because you’ve had to be. But I also know how big your heart is and how worthy you are of love. You are passing up on the chance to find your one true love.”

You scoffed.

“Love? Everyone can’t be all starry eyed and head over heels like you and Bunny boy.”

She laughed and shook her head at your nickname for Bucky, who you’d grown to like a lot over the weekend. 

“And Steven, disguised at Grant, just wanted to get in my panties, which he achieved.”

You looked toward the waves as you thought about how Grant got you to see fireworks that night in your apartment, and the things Steve said that he wanted to do to you the other night.

“I have no doubt that Steve Rogers wants to fuck you girl. Look at you. You are fine as fuck.”

You laughed at your cousin dressing you down and gassing you up at the same time. 

“But let’s be clear. You wanted to fuck him too. You still do. I see the way you look at him.”

“Hey! I didn’t lie–”

“Ah-ah!”

She silenced you with a finger.

“I know he lied about who he was, but were you completely honest with him? Totally?”

You side eyed your cousin as you imagined strangling her. But you weren’t eleven years old anymore.

And she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Steve lied, but he wants to make amends. He has feelings for you.”

You gave your cousin a side eye.

“Did he tell you that? And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

She put her arm around you and pulled you close as you walked. 

“Listen, I know you are guarding your heart, but I know Steve. He’s got this exterior that seems one way, but he will surprise you. He’s a really, really good guy.”

You sighed, still not there yet.

“I’m good on that, cousin.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him that you have a heart of stone and that he should move on. It’s not like there aren’t bitches lined up to suck his dick every day in the city…”

A jolt of jealousy zipped through you, but you pushed it down. You just took a deep breath and gave her an overly bright smile. 

“I don’t care who slobs on his lil’ knob.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Riiggght, cousin. Anyway. You are still taking the endowment money right?”

You raised your eyebrow at her and nodded.

“Nothing is going to get in the way of this dream, cousin.”

She grinned back at you, almost as bright as the sun.

“That’s my girl! We gon’ have a time in New York City…”

—

Sunday morning before you drove back to Atlanta, you went to the kitchen just as Steve came back in from a run on the beach. The rest of the family was going to Church and then he, Bucky and your cousin were going to fly back to New York on the private jet. 

“Hey.”

He chucked his chin up at you like you were one of his bros.

The audacity. 

“Hello.”

You kept it cute as he moved around you to grab a glass to get some water from the tap. The scent of sweat, ocean air, and him wrapped around you and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes to savor it. It was like you were lost. 

You opened your eyes to find him watching you as he downed the glass in one gulp, a drop of water escaping and rolling down his chin to his neck and disappearing into the already wet collar of his tight t-shirt.

You cleared your throat as he maintained eye contact with you and wiped his lips with his thumb, and some unseen force made you watch those thick fingers that felt you up not a month before, your nipples tight and panties wet.

Damn, this man and his effect on you.

You stared as his eyes swept down your body as if he knew what you looked like naked. He had seen you dance, and felt you up over and under your clothes, but that wasn’t what the look of possession was about. 

This man wanted you.

—-

Steve almost ran back outside when he saw you in the kitchen as he came in. He’s taken a run to calm the erection he had when he woke up because of you, and now, here you were, dressed almost exactly the same as when he had the opportunity to kiss you and make you cum in his arms exactly 29 days earlier.

Yes, he was keeping count.

Steve was practically speechless, yet he managed to get out a crude, ‘Hey’ and a head motion as a greeting. What was that?

He wanted close to you, to feel your skin against his lips again, to check and see if you were wet, which you were judging from your slightly open lips and blown pupils. He didn’t go near you as he got a drink however, because no matter how much he was into knife and gun play, he wasn’t going there. 

Steve wanted in your heart, not just your pants.

When you closed your eyes and visibly inhaled (probably to calm your anger, he imagined), he used the opportunity to watch your chest rise and watch the sunlight play on your skin. Those beautiful eyes caused his heart to clench when you opened them and he couldn’t tear his away as he drank his water. 

Which he needed at the moment. Desperately.

Unconsciously, he wiped his lips with his thumb, remembering the texture of you as he did so. You cleared your throat, snapping him out of it.

“Peach…”

He stopped, waiting for your retort. You just stood there, expectant and although he was shocked as shit, he continued.

“I want to apologize for lying to you and for allowing things to get…physical while you believed a lie.”

You watched him for what seemed like a long time, but was really only seconds.

“I accept your apology, Steve, and I believe in forgiveness, if only for myself being able to move on, but I’m not ready to forget or fully trust you.” Steve nodded.

“I get it. I’m really sorry.”

You shrugged.

“I know you were trying to help Bucky get clean for my cousin, and I love her big, so, I can’t stay mad. And it’s clear that you are ride or die for those you love.”

And then you cocked your head at him in that adorable way and his heart crumbled into the sparkly bits of honey in your eyes. 

“I feel like you love my cousin. Like family. So I guess that makes us family too.”

When you gave him a small smile, he smiled back dreamily. He was a teenage boy in your presence.

“I guess you’re right.”

Steve thought of family and a vision of you as a mother had him in a chokehold. You had him raging hard and wanting to bend you over the kitchen island and breed you until his seed dripped down your legs. Instead, he moved behind it to hide his condition. 

“We will have to be in contact because of the endowment, which I am taking because of my students and the fact that it’s been my dream since I was 12 years old. It was then that I started being told that I was all wrong. My ass was too big. My breasts were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’” 

Steve’s eyes openly scanned you. He looked angry, then scoffed. 

“That's ridiculous.” 

“Of course it is.” 

“Don't change a thing. That would be criminal.” 

You paused and then gave him a slightly larger smile then.

“Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I’m planning on changing the world.” 

Steve stared at you, astounded at your fierce courage. No one else could compare.

“I’m serious. I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that any body with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. That’s why I’m accepting the endowment. We can be business partners if it means those dreams can come true.”

You were a force. Damn, that only made Steve love you more.

“Brava, Peach.”

You stared back into those baby blues and coughed, trying to clear your throat from the lump that had formed there. Your goals and dreams always made you get intense.

“Need some water?”

Steve was already reaching for another glass. His eyes went wide as you reached for his and finished off what was left in it. He almost came at the thought of your lips where his had been. Holy mother of god.

“That hit the spot, thanks.”

You licked your lips and he nearly fainted, and as you turned toward the stairs, giving him a view of your backside, and looked back at him, he almost ethered to the sky.

“See you next week, Mr. Rogers. Have a safe flight.”

—-

Steve felt frantic the entire seven days leading up to the day he’d see you again. He and Sam and Nat and Bucky had lots of work to do, but he felt like a bumbling idiot, because his perfectionism was getting in the way. 

Bucky saw the barriers Steve’s mind was putting in his way and spent extra time helping him. That’s why Bucky was his brother, Steve’s only family since his mother died when he was a kid.

They worked day and night, it seemed, to be ready for the summit.

Steve managed to take a few minutes to himself each night, sketching before he slept. The images of you that came from the lead of his pencil soothing his spirit and filling his dreams. They also caused him to wake up with a stiff reminder of your feel and smell in his nostrils.

Steve Rogers couldn’t wait to see his Peach again.

—--

You kept checking the emailed itinerary on the phone as you tried to relax in business class. All of the endowment recipients were arriving in New York around the same time period in the afternoon, and you were being picked up and chauffeured to your hotel, then three hours later, to a reception at a club in the Rebirth Building. 

Then, you would be left to your own devices for dinner and to turn in or turn up. Turning up with your cousin was the only option.

You decided to try and catch some zzzz’s on the plane so you wouldn’t be too tired later. You also wanted to calm your nerves. This was a big deal for your dance school, you told yourself. You weren’t nervous about seeing Steve Rogers again on his turf. 

Not at all. 

—---

The driver that picked you up from the airport, complete with your name on a placard, Nico, was super nice.  You were surprised that your cousin was in the car. You two squealed and talked and laughed on the way, and you were in such a good mood that you didn’t pay much attention when she addressed him by his first name very familiarly. He must be a very friendly guy.

Your check-in at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn was a breeze. The concierge let you know that you checked in at the right time; you happened to be upgraded to a one bedroom suite with a view of the New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. The king sized bed looked like a dream, so you took a nap before you got ready for the evening. You wanted to be at your best amongst the other five Endowment awardees.

—-

You walked into the bar, Bea, and you were struck at how gorgeous it was, and how masculine.

There was rich mahogany wood everywhere, and the bartop material was a dark black honed marble. There were luxurious upholstered leather chairs and booths throughout and floor to ceiling wine coolers. 

You were looking around in awe as a young woman came up and handed you a name tag.

“You must be Ms. YLN. Welcome.”

You greeted her as your cousin smirked at you. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing wait staff.

“How…”

You gaped at her.

“All staff have been briefed on all of you. Nothing but the best this week.”

“Oh. Okay…” She giggled as you continued your inspection of the place. Steve and ‘nem had more money than you thought. A lot more. A thought crossed your mind.

“Wait. Do you work for them?”

You narrowed your eyes at your cousin as she rolled hers.

“Well, tangentially. Bucky funded our Howard Benson exhibit at the Center and so I’ve worked with Rebirth on some Harlem Renaissance initiatives around Brooklyn and the other boroughs. I’ve also een helping Bucky and the crew prepare for this week.”

“Ah. Okay.”

You took a sip of your drink and continued your perusal.

It was your cousin’s turn now.

“Listen, bitch.You’ve got to chill. No one is out to get you, especially me.”

Your cousin looked halfway angry. But she was still adorable.

“You’re so fucking cute. Love looks good on you.”

You smiled at her serenely and she shook her head at you, knowing you too well. 

“Don’t give me your shit, Peach. I was there in Hilton Head. You will act like you have some sense.”

“I’m civilized, cousin. Steve and I had a talk before I left. I’m chilling.”

“You better.”

She pointed to the gathering crowd in the room.

“Now go network.”

—--

Your laugh. It gave Steve goosebumps.

He hadn’t heard your full laugh much in Atlanta, just some low, sexy chuckles, because you two hadn’t talked much. And you certainly weren’t happy when he showed up at your family’s house. But you seemed much more relaxed this evening and Steve decided that it was his favorite thing in the world.

He spotted you as soon as you walked in with your cousin and she was beautiful as always. 

But you.

When you finally noticed him, you seemed surprised, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, but not angry at all. He gained hope, and stood up straight, wondering if he looked good to you because you were certainly a vision to his eyes. 

The outfit you were wearing was classy, yet could not hide that body from the eyes that studied it every chance he got. Which was every time he saw you.

As you mingled, and he shmoozed, he consistently had to force his eyes away from your tempting curves, your gorgeous face, the sound of your voice. And that fucking laugh. It wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed, seeped into his soul and spread warmth. 

Not to mention the effect you had on his cock. 

You were a fucking vision in black wide-legged leather pants and a plain white tee that hugged your mouthwatering tits, accessorized with red pointy heels a red clutch and an off white wool trench coat. The edgy outfit was very appropriate for the art world and although you were all covered up, your body wasn’t hidden from him, only accentuated. To top it off, your normally coily hair was straightened and loosely curled, calling for his fingers to slide through the thick strands. 

It’s your eyes that got to him, though, those fucking beautiful eyes that he longed to see hazy with the pleasure he was giving you. He maintained eye contact with you as he thought his lurid thoughts, and raised his drink in a salute. You smiled at him and raised your drink in response and his heart soared.

Although he wanted to be near you immediately, he decided to give you some space. He didn’t want to force anything. Well, maybe he wanted to force his thick cock into your tiny cunt. 

He licked his lips, then shook his head and scowled at Bucky as he noticed Steve staring at you. But he didn’t stop.

Careful now, Steve told himself. Take it slow. 

—--

You mingled and met some of your fellow recipients. They were a diverse group of people from all over the country, but most seemed type cool. There was one who latched on to you, Sharon Carter. She was a photographer from Memphis and was very chatty. She was glued to your side as you made the rounds and you weren’t too mad. She just didn’t shut up.

“How do you like your room? A double with a view of the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. And after a three hour coach flight. Fancy.”

You sipped your drink and Sharon’s sarcasm. Your mind started whirling.

“Get a load of those beautiful people right there. Those are our benefactors.”

You looked to where she was indicating and were surprised to see Steve, dressed in and standing with Bucky, another tall handsome man with a low cut fade, and a petite fit redhead woman. They all looked to belong on a movie poster.

But Steve.

He was leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, perfectly tailored dark green sport coat and black wool sweater, hugging his broad shoulders and trim waist like nobody’s business. His dark slacks were hanging on for dear life to those massive thighs, and his thick dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. You liked his hair cut short in the back with the length on top. There was still something to grab on to.

Damn him. It should be illegal for a man to look that fucking good, especially at this hour, with you already having had two glasses of champagne.…

You caught eye contact with Steve and your world spun for a second as you connected across the room. His eyes… God, his eyes. 

Those steely blues were blazing with a heat that you could feel in your pussy, somehow containing a hunger that threatened to consume you. He stood up straight, and if you didn’ know any better, you would have thought that he flexed a little as he stared at you. Your pussy thought so, but your brain thought he wouldn’t try to hurt you like that. 

He did, however, raise his glass to you and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

You turned your attention to Bucky as he started to speak, and grabbed a bottle of water from a waiter, thinking you needed a clear head when you had to actually talk to Steve and not just acknowledge him from across the room.

"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Rebirth Art Foundation’s annual celebration of creativity and innovation in the arts. This is a gathering to honor six extraordinary artists whose talent, vision, and hard work have earned them a place among the most promising creators of our time….”

You watched your cousin who was totally enraptured by what Bucky was saying. You got a warm feeling as you saw what true love looked like. You smirked as you saw her make her way over to him as Nat stepped up to speak. You were so happy for your fam. 

“Now Bucky Barnes is a snack. Wonder if he’s taken?”

You side eyed the hussy and then pointed at your cousin, who hadn’t made it to Bucky yet.

“I think that’s his wife or something right there.”

Sharon took a sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose.

“Ha! Nice joke. But I don’t think they go together, meaning they don’t match. Get it?”

You stared daggers at her. This bitch. Then you glanced at your cousin and her man again.

“You might want to tell him that, because he looks like he’s about to take her tonsils out with his tongue.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open to see them making out in a corner. You couldn’t help but laugh as she shrugged, then brightened when Steve gained the mic. 

“Never mind him. Steve Rogers is the entire meal. I have it on good authority that his dick is big.”

You looked from her to Steve, a sinking feeling in your stomach. Were you going to catch a case in New York City over a man that was not your man?

Or was he your man?

“Good evening, and welcome. It’s an honor to have you all here as we celebrate six incredible artists who are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in the art world and are poised to change the entire world.”

Steve looked straight at you then, and you held his gaze for that fraction of a second as he raised his eyebrow as electricity zapped between you before his eyes continued around the room. 

Sharon was forgotten momentarily and you bit your lip. Whew. You had to refrain from fanning yourself as he continued.

“At Rebirth, we believe that art is more than just a medium—it’s a force that connects us, challenges us, and shapes our future. This week, I encourage you to not only take in everything around you but also to share your unique perspectives. Creation, art, and collaboration are the soul of this foundation, and I’m excited to see what bonds form this week. Congratulations once again, and let’s make something amazing together!”

“Come on, now is the time to meet them. Maybe I can make something amazing with Steve Rogers tonight.”

You let yourself be dragged over to where the four were standing as Sam was finishing his welcome and you introduced yourself to each as you tried to listen to Sharon simping.

Each person smiled warmly at you, and Bucky pulled you in for a hug, which made Sharon side eye you both, but only for a moment as her attention turned to Steve.

“Mr. Rogers, I’m Sharon Carter. You know my Aunt Peggy.”

Steve blanched.

“Peggy? Your… Aunt?”

Sharon laughed, a little shrilly to your ears.

“Yes. She’s my mother’s half sister. Born to the second wife, 18 years younger than my mom. They weren’t that close. But Peggy and I are just like sisters.”

“Oh.”

Steve looked a little trapped.

“Didn’t know that. It’s a small world.”

Peggy leaned closer to him, but you heard her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t share the secrets she told me…”

Steve looked at her like she was crazy and then looked at you, almost in panic. You could see the anxiety in his eyes, so you decided to rescue him.

“Mr. Rogers. Hi. ”

The huskiness of your voice, the way his name sounded on your tongue. It calmed him and sent a lightning bolt of desire through him. Steve wanted to hear you call him that in a very different context.

Steve’s face changed when he looked at you. He shifted toward you, much to Sharon’s chagrin.

“My name is Y/N Y/LN, and it’s so good to finally meet you. I hope that this is the start of a great partnership.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow at you and smiled as you took his hand. You initiating touch with him was the start of his wet dreams of late. His thumb stroked your hand as he held it. 

“I hope so too, Ms. Y/LN. I’ve been meaning to talk to you…”

“Please, call me Peach, Mr. Rogers.”

Nat came around and distracted Sharon as Steve put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the side of the bar to talk. His smell enveloped you and his touch had you walking carefully, because your knees were weak.

“What did you want to talk about Mr. Rogers?”

He shook his head, his eyes dark now.

“Call me Steve, Peach, please.”

His voice was rougher, and impossibly deeper as he begged, and it sent chills straight to your pussy. You cocked your head and he in turn licked his lips.

“Why?”

“Because if you keep calling me Mr. Rogers, I–”

He stopped and your lust-addled brain filled in the gaps. Your lips parted on a soft inhale. Steve, on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

And then exhaled slowly.

“How was your flight?”

Steve thought it best to talk of the mundane, because he was half a second from bending you over the bar in front of all these people. 

“It was… great. I appreciated the business class seat.”

His eyebrow shot up.

“You got upgraded? How fortunate.”

“Ummmmhmmm. So you didn’t know?”

“Promise.”

Steve’s mouth quirked up in a half smile, because he knew you didn’t trust him, but you were so cute when you were grilling him.

“And you didn’t know about the upgrade at the hotel?”

“No…”

“I have a king suite with a killer view of the city.”

Steve grinned now and you almost shielded your eyes.

“Seems you’re lucky.”

You stared into his eyes to see if he was lying, but you didn’t see anything there but feelings you didn’t want to name. But because of your history, you still didn’t trust what he said. Nevertheless, you decided to let it go. There was something else you needed to know.

“So, who’s Peggy?”

Steve grimaced.

“She’s someone I knew a long time ago. We were close. Once. But not anymore.”

You just kept looking at him.

“She’s moved on, married to a rich guy on the west coast. And I’ve moved on as well.”

You straightened up as he gazed down at you. You didn’t know why you cared so much. And you didn’t want to analyze his last sentence.

“Oh.”

Now, Steve was smiling down at you like he thought you were jealous.

Which was absurd. 

And he looked as if he was happy about that ridiculous idea.

You were right.

Steve was jumping for joy on the inside at the way you reacted to hearing about Peggy. He didn’t expect to think about her, much less have to explain her to you tonight, but if it led to you realizing you had feelings for him, he was glad of Sharon’s connection. And the way she ran her mouth, although it was annoying.

“You good, Peach?”

You weren’t good. You found yourself wanting to show Steve your suite, especially the ceiling, as you rode his cock on the king sized bed so as to make him forget about any other pussy ever existing. But you must have been tweaking.

You needed to get out of there.

You turned around and went to find your cousin.

“I’m great Mr. Rogers. You have a good night.”

And Steve was left watching you walk away again.

——

Please comment, reblog and like to feed the writer! 😜

[genderkoolaid]

I really respect Jules Giles-Peterson, her work is great, and she's pretty good at consciously trying to avoid casual anti-transmasculinity from what I've seen. But I do really wish she could talk about transmasculine history with the same depth she talks about transfem history. Not because she should HAVE to– I have no issue with her focusing mostly on what she knows best. But every time she brings up transmasc history I'm like!!!! if this is a topic you want to bring up there's SO much more you can be saying here.

I just read this article by her:

And I think it's in general good! I was really happy to see a well known transfem scholar writing something on this topic, since so many people seem to have blinders on when it comes to the very obvious intersection of trans and abortion issues.

Additionally, she uses this as an opportunity to talk about transfem/transmasc community and the support networks between us, which is lovely. She illustrates not only the connection between trans people and abortion but also how that has been an opportunity for collaboration and shared resistance.

However... it feels to me like there's weirdly little focus on transmascs in this article about trans abortions? It feels like more time is spent rehashing the "trans men went stealth and moved away, trans women formed communities in the cities" model rather than exploring the relationship trans people have had to their abortions throughout history. She acknowledges that the chance to achieve that ideal "cis passing married successful straight man" life was slim, but then she doesn't explore what possible experiences OUTSIDE of that slim chance where like.

And I fully acknowledge that it's hard to talk about a lot of transmasc history because so little has been recorded. But that doesn't mean nothing has. While not technically related to abortion, I feel like it would be well worth it to bring up Ferdinand Alexander Bruce, given that he is a historical trans man that we know gave birth. Even more, we know it because he wrote an memoir, so we actually have his own words in his gender and life. Bruce was stealth at certain points in his life, but his transition was public and he was outed repeatedly, leading to constant discrimination. It's not known if his pregnancy was the product of sex or rape. He is an invaluable look into the history of transmasculine pregnancy and the relationships trans people had with pregnancy throughout history. This is the kind of trans man in history we don't think about because his life did not fall into the standard narrative of "transition, pass, marry a woman, get outed after death."

She also brings up the association of trans women and sex work, as a point to how trans women would have established a network of care for trans men using their knowledge as sex workers (a group that has always been closely tied to abortion). I think this a really good and interesting point, but I also think she misses the opportunity to explore the history of trans men in sex work. Sex work and general promiscuity has been associated with FTM crossdressing throughout history (also see this). Many trans men and nonbinary people present as feminine cis women while doing sex work today. There was even an anthology released recently on the experiences of transmasculine sex workers.

I think this is a good article but it's just... disappointing to see people approach this topic, that so much can be said about, and barely even scratch the surface of saying something new. Especially when her work on transfem history is so good.

[rsli33]

𝓐TLANTIS ✴︎ 𝓭R

“may you never forget me.” 𓍼ོ

SYNOPSIS . . . girl meets boy, girl falls for said boy . . .but wait . . . this time the girl falls in love with the bastard son of one of the Olympians gods. One whose blood brings nothing but chaos and destruction, will her love for him be enough to save both of them & their home from the loop?

[ note . . . this is shifting content, this dr is one of my original dr’s I made, I took inspiration from the lost city of Atlantis which is an island civilization that, according to Plato, was submerged into the sea by the gods. after lots of worldbuilding, and a little tweaking here and there I ended up with this dr. it is loosely based on my pjo dr as well, and I mean loosely. i hope you like this dr as much as I do.]

BACKSTORY . . . Sophia of Atlantis, daughter of Stavros of Atlantis. Life as the daughter of Atlantis cursed seer, was never easy. Watching as her father slipped into madness for not being able to speak his prophecies. She could never hate her father, he is a good father, and he provided her with nothing but love. So what did she do when her father was deemed too old to work? She sought out for a way to make coin. In the main city, not far from where she lived, where she found work, as an assistant to a man who has knowledge of... plants?

She wasn't one to judge, she needed coin. So if working for Matthaios, a plant speaker in her opinion, would get her coin she would do whatever he asked for. . . even if it meant diving into the moon pools to get him some slimy green plant.

𝕿𝘏𝘌 𝕾𝘈𝘕𝘌 𝕿𝗛𝗘 𝕷𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗫

❝You speak to trees.❞

❝I do not speak to trees, I listen to them.❞

❝Right. . . and I listen to fish talk.❞

INTERTWINED SOULS . . . In all of Sophia’s life only one person that has been consistent other than her father, Charilaos is his name. A boy her age, one that, unlike her, lives on the streets just outside Matthaios little tent, in the outer edge of the agora’s. Yes, she was always warned to never associate with the beggars of the silk streets. . . oh gods, she just couldn’t help herself. So everyday for two years Sophia would put out a basket of the food sold in the agora, just enought for five people, and watched, a creep Matthaios would call her, as Charilaos and his family ate. And slowly but surely, the two grew close, very close, often Sophia would sneak Charilaos into the ceremonial festivals. And what was once compassions turned into love. One that was shared in both sides. So why does Charilaos keep pushing her away? And why does it feel so familiar?

𝕿𝘏𝘌 𝕳𝘌𝘈𝘓𝘌𝘙 𝕿𝙃𝙀 𝕭𝘼𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝘿

❝Let go! I will be your end!❞

❝I will continue if it means loving you.❞

THE LOOP . . . Fifty times, that’s how many times Charilaos has tried to change your fate. Fifty times of watching the woman he loves scarifies herself for him. Fifty times, of falling deeply in love with her. Fifty times of watching her fall in with him. Fifty times of different roads leading to the same fate. Twenty-five times of rejecting her. Twenty-five of watching her from afar. Twenty-five years of solitude. Twenty-five years of anger. Charilaos was sure the gods hated him, they had to. Because why must he be the one to remember every fail. Why does it seem like he can’t stop it, cant forget. His own father, his blood, cursing him for falling in love with her. Forced to be stuck in the cruel loop, only he can remember. Forced to push his love away, forced to see Sophia crumble like dust in his own hands.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ © RSLI33

[i-have-a-mouth-so-i-must-scream]

Primarch Kid OCs: Alyssandra of Nuceria

I've been seeing a lot of Primarch oc kid posts lately and decided to hop on the trend with my own oc kids that I've been too shy to post until now. I currently have three girls and four boys.

So, first up is my girl, Alys.

Here are parts of her backstory:

-While Angron was the one leading the fighters in battles and raids, his wife, Alma, was the one leading the ones who couldn't fight. Those were the ones that hid themselves in coverts and helped the rebellion by way of healing, supplies, information gathering and sabotage.

-Alma and Angron were married long before he got the Butcher's Nails.

-Alma and many of her fellow rebels that had mechanical and medical knowledge were already working on a way to disable and remove the Nails in order to save their friends and family who were chosen to become gladiators by the High Riders.

-Alyssandra was born 8 years before Emps yoinked Angron from what should have been the last battle the rebellion needed before they could have gained control over Nuceria. She and all the rebels saw her father disappear in a flash of golden light. They know he didn't abandon them, he was kidnapped.

-Angron was the one who named Alys. It was a combination of "Alexandra", "protector/defender of man" and "Lyssa", which has multiple meanings, including "rage", "frenzy", "noble", and "honey".

-Alys grew up knowing her father as a good and caring man that loved her and her mom very much. Most definitely a Daddy's Girl, but she has her mother's smarts and resourcefulness.

-A year after that, while their covert was still recuperating from the loss of Angron and the Eaters of Cities, they were suddenly attacked by two groups of cultists who each worshipped Khorne and Slaanesh. Their leaders had received visions of a Child of Golden blood, a descendant of Anathema, hidden in the mountains of Nuceria. They each had their own agenda for the child. One group wanted to offer her skull to the Lord of Blood and the other wanted to offer her to the Dark Prince in exchange for Daemonhood.

-Many died in the ensuing chaos that erupted when the two groups started fighting each other for Alys, her mother included. Alma died fighting off a Khornate warrior whilst trying to get Alyssandra to safety. It all came to a head when both a Khornate and Slaaneshi psyker tried to open a portal at the same time. The resulting energies began ripping reality in the immediate area apart which caused a massive explosion that instantly killed many and dragged dozens more into the Warp itself.

-Alyssandra survived being cast into the Warp because of her particularly powerful soul and her latent psyker abilities, both which she inherited from her father.

-She ended up on a planet that was consumed by a Warp Storm ages ago and has been surviving there ever since, living off of what she could hunt or scavenge and further enhancing her psyker abilities through trial and error.

-Her psyker abilities a like mix of Mel Medarda's from Arcane

and of Thena's from the Eternals

She's a powerful Empath and she can project golden light that she can turn into physical weapons or shields, but she still as difficulty controlling her physical projections, causing them to be only as strong as iron or, in worse cases, as brittle as glass and she can't really turn off her empathy which causes her severe migraines if she uses it too long. But once she does gain full control, she'll can project weapons strong enough to scratch Custodes armor.

-Her childhood growing up in the Warp was basically a cross between Alice in Wonderland and Doom.

[quintessenceofdust88]

fuck it friday

(it hasn't been Friday for me for the last 25 minutes but let's pretend I'm on time, can we? thank youu also I gotta be honest that I almost didn't post this one cause imposter syndrome hit hard, but then my angel @laundryandtaxesworld helped me out and I decided to give it a shot. So thank you Viaaa, ily ♥♥♥) Tagged by @911coded and @unhingedangstaddict, thank you lovelies! ♥ This is the beginning of priest Tommy AU, sooo I hope you'll like it! I'm excited to see where it goes:

Buck loves LA, but he hates days like this one, where it feels like the whole city is a greenhouse. The heat is sticky and humid, clinging to his skin and making him sweat in his uniform. All he wants is a cold shower and a minute to breathe. And, okay, maybe a cold beer wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Instead, he’s crammed in the back of the 118 fire engine, heading to San Pedro for one more call. And Buck loves his job, he does, but they’ve been on back-to-back calls for the last three hours. 

“Christ, I feel like I’m gonna melt” He whines, and Eddie smirks at him from the front seat (he had won rock paper scissors fair and square, the bastard), pushing his sunglasses up his nose. His Texas-raised ass does just fine with this horrible weather, and Buck hates him for it. 

“Yeah? Better start working hard to go to heaven then, cause you would not survive the eternal flames” He quips. Buck crosses his arms, too stubborn to let himself be influenced by the collective chuckle.

“I already work hard to go to heaven, don’t I? Saving lives and stuff” He says with a shrug, absolutely not pouting, thank you very much.. 

“I don’t know, Buckaroo.” Chim says, a playful smirk on his face. “When was the last time you set foot in a church? That’s supposed to be a big deal for the guy upstairs”

“Well, if that’s the dealbreaker, we’re all screwed” Hen says dryly, even though she doesn’t look particularly concerned. “Except for Cap, of course.”

Bobby chuckles from the driver’s seat, taking a turn to the right and stopping the truck. 

“Well, here’s your chance to make up for it” He says, and Buck comes down from the engine to find out they pulled up to a small stone-walled church. 

The doors are open, and most people are outside or at the very back of the church, chatting agitatedly, their eyes widened as most people when they find themselves witnesses to a 911-level emergency. It’s a sizable crowd, he thinks, considering it’s a Wednesday afternoon (which, as far as his Episcopalian-raised knowledge goes, is not a church day). 

As they rush up the church’s steps, he notices half of the crowd are the usual elderly ladies, but half of it are people around their 20s and 30s, and a few teens, which surprises Buck. They’re all whispering fiercely to each other and keep stealing glances inside the church. One of the ladies approaches them, relief clear in her eyes. 

“Oh, thank God you got here so fast!” She says, wringing her hands together. “It’s Mrs. Bellini, you see, she has low blood pressure, and this weather…”

“Ma’am” Bobby cuts her off as gently as possible. “Were you the one who called 911?”

“No, it was father Kinard.” She clarifies, leading them inside. “He’s already tended to her forehead, but he didn’t want to risk moving her until you arrived to check her situation.”

The church is relatively small, but the ceiling is high, and their footsteps echo against the walls. It’s a lot cooler inside, and Buck lets out an involuntary sigh of relief as they get out of the intense sunlight.

The woman leads them to one of the front pews, where they find another lady who’s sitting down, looking pale and sheepish. There's a white gaze pressed against her forehead, and a small red stain seems to have formed against it. Sitting by her side is a man dressed in white robes, a green-colored long scarf-looking thingy around his neck. 

He stands up when they approach, and Buck’s taken aback, because he’s ridiculously tall; a little taller than Buck, even, and that’s no easy feat. His features are sharp, a jawbone that could probably cut through glass, and he has a cleft on his chin (why did Buck notice that, he wonders? Is it weird to notice a priest has a cleft?). He’s looking at them with widened blue eyes that are filled with concern.

--

Np (like at all bc I know it's Saturday or almost SAturday for most of y'all) tagging @laundryandtaxesworld @bidisasterevankinard @typicalopposite @mmso-notlikethat @fairytalegonewronga03 @rosyhoneydew and whoever else would like to join!!

[littlespacereader]

Poly cg derek morgan x spencer reid x little reader where she is 2 and use a paci and always kiss them with her paci and hugs them after the paci kiss 🥺

A bit of a smaller fic but one that is so cute! I’m sorry this request too me so long but here it is! I love the prompt so much! I’m always a sucker for forehead kisses because I think they’re such a cute way of incorporating kisses in agere. But this?!? Kisses on the paci?!?! So adorable!! Thank you for the request!!

Late Night Paci Kisses💋🍼

Caregivers! Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid and Fem Little! Reader (SFW)

Tags- comfort fic, late night snuggles, cuddling, kisses on regressed Little’s pacifier, hugs

It’s a quiet night in Virginia. There in a small apartment in the city, Morgan and Spencer start to burn the late night oil, looking over a case file. The two sit at the kitchen table, going over every detail of the crime scene, speculating what their unsub’s next move could be.

It’s late, far too late for their little one Y/N to be up. After some crying, whining, cuddles, a warm bottle and some bedtime stories, they finally managed to get their little one to sleep so they could begin working.

But they should know that their little one is a stubborn one.

About two hours after they first put her down to sleep for the night, there she was. Hair messy with sleep, their blanket wrapped around their shoulders like a poncho, and their paci still in their mouth.

Morgan immediately heard the footsteps walking down the hallway. “Sweetheart what are you doing up?” He sigh, but opened his arms to her.

Wordlessly they pattered over to the kitchen table where Morgan sat. She climbing into his lap and relaxed against him. Morgan chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps his arms around her.

“It’s too late for you to be up. You know that right?” He lightly chided.

But instead of having a reasoning or an excuse, she just lifted her face up, wanting a paci kiss. And who was Morgan to refuse?

“You want a kiss from Dade? Alright.” He leans forward placing a small kiss to her paci. Immediately he could see how it brightens her up.

“Is that what you came out here for? Some snuggles and kisses?” Morgan smirks as he gets a nod from her.

She lifted her head again for a second one. Morgan made a big show of it. “Mmmmmmmawh!” He drags out the kiss getting a giggle from his sleepy little one.

Down the hallway the bathroom door opens, “Okay, so I think our Unsub-.” Spencer stops in his tracks seeing the Little bundle in Morgan’s arms.

“Papaaaa!” She raises her arms to him.

He smirks, crossing his arms and looking at the two, “When did you wake up darling?”

She just giggle in response. Morgan explains, “Seems like someone decided they needed cuddles and kisses more than sleeping.” He smirks.

“Is that so?” Spencer smiles as he walked into the room. The moment he does she reaches out to him and into his arms she goes.

She whine, lifting her head up. Spencer chuckles, “A paci kiss?”

“She’s needs lots of kisses since she woke up.” Morgan calls over his shoulder.

“Well who am I to deny her of her kisses.” He lean forward, placing a gentle kiss to her pacifier, then a second one right after. “There, and one for good luck.” He winks.

He bounces the Little in his arms as he goes over the case with Morgan, the big adult conversation flying over her head. She rest in his arms, arms wrapped around his neck, head rested on his shoulder.

Every so often she’ll lift her head, getting one kiss from Spencer. Then he’ll walk over so she can get a kiss from Morgan.

So the adults can work, and their little one can get their well deserved and needed paci kisses.

[farfromstrange]

Happy Birthday!! I’m sorry your birthday leaves you with mixed feelings, but I hope this celebration helps direct them towards the happy side of things💖 Can I please request a bouquet of tulips regarding Matt and the stray animals of Hells Kitchen? Cats, dogs, even possums and raccoons? Heck, how does the devil of Hell’s Kitchen feel about pigeons?

Aww, thank you so much, lovely 🥹🤍 And thank you for your request(s)!!

These headcanons were actually so much fun to think about.

Here’s your bouquet of tulips!

Matt Murdock and The Strays of Hell’s Kitchen (Headcanons)

Event Masterlist | Matt Murdock Masterlist

I feel like Matt is the kind of person who doesn’t usually pay much attention to the animals around him because most of the time, they’re much quieter than the people of New York City, so when he encounters one he won’t let them throw him off his game. However, our Devil of Hell’s Kitchen definitely has his favorites and least favorites.

The stray cat that keeps appearing on his fire escape? He doesn’t want to admit it, but he kind of enjoys the company. He’s fascinated by how easily this tiny ball of fur started trusting him once he started feeding it some tuna. Cats usually don’t find him off-putting when he’s in the suit, and he likes that. He likes petting them, too because cats purr at a frequency that perhaps is soothing to his senses. And if he finds one that’s hurt? You best believe he will take it home, clean it (although that’s a fight he often loses), and patch it up. And he’d drop those who are really bad off at a shelter to make sure they get taken care of.

Matt Murdock and cats (especially orange ones) have a lot in common, so I think they’re the kind of animals he enjoys being around, even though they annoy the shit out of him. He’s just incredibly touched-starved, and having a stray cat dote on him just makes him feel a different kind of way. He certainly wouldn’t mind if the same stray cat came back to him on the regular. He’d adopt that fur-ball without even realizing, and suddenly he’s a cat owner who gets cuddles every night. Using his tie to play with it before he can buy toys? You bet! Finding a vet to nurse the poor thing back to health? Matt Murdock to the rescue. Would it be easy with his sensory issues? No. But he turns into a cat person nonetheless. It’s better than being alone, anyway.

I also think he doesn’t mind dogs. They’re active, they’re fun to play with, and they’re very empathetic. Sometimes a little too empathetic for his taste. He may have shut down Foggy’s and Karen’s idea for him to get a guide dog, but that’s because he is insistent on shouldering everything on his own and accepting help—even if it’s from a dog trained to support someone with his disability—doesn’t sit right with him. It’s an issue. Anyway, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like dogs! You best believe he’ll make sure the stray dogs of Hell’s Kitchen end up at an animal shelter. If you remember Season 2 where Matt searches for Frank and finds the dog instead, he is good with them. They listen to him. They respect him, and he respects dogs. I can see him bringing home a stray eventually, just because he knows what it’s like to be alone and Matt hates the fact that others have to suffer the same fate. He’d have to make sure the dog gets along with the cat though.

Possums? It’s a complicated relationship. I headcanon one bit him once while he was, once again, lying half-dead in a dumpster and the poor thing got spooked by this grown ass man trying to climb back out, so it bit him. He had to explain to Claire that no, he was not bitten by his opponent, it was actually a possum, and she laughed at him. He’s not their biggest fan, but he also doesn’t despise them. I feel like Matt would be open to reconciliation though. Like, they’re just trynna survive on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. He can’t really blame them for that.

Same goes for raccoons. His sense of smell is so sensitive he can smell every last item of garbage they’ve had their noses in, but they’ve never hurt him. He doesn’t necessarily pay attention to them when they cross his path, but he definitely wouldn’t want to stay close to a raccoon for an extended period of time.

I don’t know why, but I feel like Matt’s the kind of guy who feeds the pigeons outside the courthouse. He’d take the breakfast Foggy got him and share it with them, even though it’s technically not allowed. And Foggy would definitely need to call out, “Matt, stop feeding the pigeons!” Before security has to intervene. That may change though if one ever decides to poop on him. New suit? Ruined. He’d never feed them again.

Bonus: I like to think he despises spiders, mostly because he can hear them crawling over walls and stuff, and that’s just a sensory nightmare. If you’ve ever had one crawl on you, you know that feels fucking terrifying, and I imagine Matt would feel the same way. Unless they’re a daddy long legs chilling in the corner, eating all the flies (which he also despises), he will exterminate them. God can forgive him for that one.

[peachsayshi]

About brutally soft reader x SUKUNA

I love how you write their dynamic with eachother and their daughter, especially the feelings she has towards SUKUNA and the small jealousy she feels just thinking about him and other women.

But I’ve got some thoughts

I understand her seeing the good in him and him being a great father but a great father isn’t always a great partner. He might have cleaned his mess up as far as she knows, we the readers of course know more.

You gave us some look into their past relationship and how toxic they were to eachother.

While people should stay in the present and look towards the future, her past shaped her. Does she trust him fully? Are there other feelings like resentment and anger she sometimes feels towards him, especially as she realizes how her daughter is growing up without two parents in the same house and how it will impact her?

While she loves her daughter, won’t she still have some anger towards him for having to take care of her all the time and work, while he has so much freedom?

Does she feel guilty for still liking him?

Does she have recurring nightmares or flashbacks as soon as she sees or talks about cheating? Does she see his cheating partner sometimes in the city and does she get that gut wrenching feeling.

There are a lot of questions I have regarding her character.

While you show the positive side of their co parenting I would love to see the negative aspects. How it impacted her her future (unexpected pregnancy), other relationships she had(parents, friends…), relationships with other men after sukuna?

How she sees her daughter, does her daughter miss him a lot or does she see a lot of sukuna in her daughter? Does reader still have some kind abandonment issues or trust issues with other people in her life because of the relationship?

Is it maybe the other relationship that seems to be on and off, that makes her yearn for sukuna who is not only her baby daddy but seems to be stable in life?

I hope it does not come off as aggressive or rude but I am really interested to see her have some female rage and anger she will express toward sukuna.



nonnie!! please don't ever apologize!! as a writer I live for these kind of questions!! I am just an awe that you that this fic made you this interested like I am truly beyond flattered. okay, okay let's break it down: "a great father isn't always a great partner" is the basis of what this story is about. regarding your question on trust, I will say that the reader does not trust him - he had to repair that trust himself. and it took him years to do it. the fact that he cheated on her isn't a small thing (to either the reader or sukuna). he lives with that mistake and the reader lives with that hurt. in one of my previous posts about them, I mention how all of this changed when sukuna found out you were pregnant. the thing is, he grew up with shitty parents. he wasn't about to turn into one himself. I don't think she resents him as much. because she truly didn't even think that he would step up to the plate and be an actual father to his child. she only revealed her pregnancy out of moral obligation, but she was clear that she doesn't expect him to be involved. the fact that sukuna is putting in the effort is more of a surprise to the reader herself.

now regarding the freedom thing, I definitely think that's more of a choice on the reader's part. sukuna wants more team, but our reader keeps the boundaries for a reason. let's not forget that she knew and loved sukuna at his worst. saw how irresponsible he could be. saw how selfish some of his actions were. I think a small part of her believes that if she isn't too cautious, he might slip up. that's the reader taking control of a situation that she cannot predict. I don't think she feels guilty for liking sukuna, I think she's scared that those feelings are still there. how could she still want someone who hurt her in that way? how could she think it would be safe to go back to him? that's what I was really trying to portray in the updated part of their little story. without giving away too much of the story, she definitely does bring it up in conversation with sukuna and it's an extremely sore point for both of them. it's the only time she sees how small he looks in her eyes. he carries so much shame with that mistake, with that woman...

oh there definitely will be some insight on the negative aspects - but it will be framed in a way to show sukuna's growth. the point is to highlight his redemption journey, rather than him being a shitty guy. however, that past still exists in both his and the reader's memory. and regarding abandonment and trust issues: they both definitely deal with it in their own way. in this particular case, it's sukuna who gave did it to her. his parents did it him.

I briefly talk about sukuna's childhood, and how compared to his brother yuji he had to witness his parents because a healthy, loving couple towards his younger brother. sukuna never got any of that. and it kills him that the same abandonment and trust issues they gave him, he just off loaded onto you with his own shitty mistakes.

sukuna's daughter is so much like him in so many ways. you can definitely see that but you believe she got the best parts of sukuna rather than the worst. and he only wants to show her the good, not the bad.

I hop this answers some of your questions! I really can't wait to explore more parts of these two - and see how their dynamic unfolds. I think as of now, sukuna simply resigns in his role as being your baby daddy and nothing else. he really wants to show you that you can rely on him, but it just isn't that easy for the reader to give in to him like she used to.

[starlightshadowsworld]

For the character ask game, what are your thoughts on Chuuya?

…Ima say it now this one’s gonna be long.

Favourite thing: The way Chuuya knows how people perceive him and uses it to his advantage.

In Fifteen he knew that Dazai saw him as a loud brainless teen so he played on that to hide Arahabaki while actively helping to search for him.

And it’s in that same way that he tricks Fyodor.

Least Favourite thing: He does leap before he looks at times. Truly the world’s worst interrogator.

Favourite line:

“You’ve fucked up Detective Agency”

What can I say? It’s Iconic.

Also not a spoken line but when he’s being interrogated in Stormbringer and when it seems like he’s gonna confess. He just calmly hands over a note that just says “eat shit.”

BrOTP:

Chuuya and Kouyou because they are siblings to me. He looks up to her and she threatened to tear Verlaine limb from limb for trying to take him away.

Chuuya and Kenji because I’ve seen the I believe wan panels of them hanging out and it’s adorable and I love them being friends.

Chuuya and Akutugawa because Chuuya referring to him as “our boy” warms my heart. Akutugawa respects him and there little moment at the end of Dead Apple is so sweet.

Chuuya and Rimbaud because he did make an impression on him and despite it all Chuuya still wears his hat.

Chuuya and Adam are everything to me. Their whole relationship and how Adam cares so much for him so openly and how Chuuya’s terrible at showing he cares for him too.

Chuuya and the Flags. He’s like a really pissed off stray cat that they’ve all just adopted. I love his relationship with them all and how much they care about him and accepted him as one of them.

Chuuya and Dazai. Platonic or romantic (tho I prefer platonic) whatever they are, they are fundamentally intertwined and mean a lot to each other (begrundingly) and I love them being the smartest and dumbest people in the room together.

OTP:

Chuuya and Kunikida. Similar personalities and roles in their organisations. I feel they’d both respect each other and they’d find common ground and be very cute.

Also bitch about Dazai and gang up on him but that’s just a small part of all of this.

Chuuya and Atsushi. Similar backgrounds and abilities. Chuuya’s part of the reason Atsushi proposed an alliance to begin with. They both struggle with their humanity and I feel would reaffirm it in each other and be very cute.

NOTP: I don’t really have any.

Random headcanon: Because the Sheep were technically banned from Yokohama (being PM terrority) Chuuya knows multiple routes into the city that they aren’t aware if.

Along with secret passages into the PM building.

Unpopular opinion: Chuuya is a character that exists outside of Dazai. He is an incredibly complex and smart character and more than just the “brawn” of their duo.

Song I associate with him: What’s up Danger by Blackway and Black Caviar.

Favourite picture:

The unimpressed low-key ethereal look of a man that is so earning every single yen of his paycheck.

[witchthewriter]

Can you write about what would’ve happened if aegon (third son of baelon and alyssa) survived?

𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧!

In this scenario, Daemon wouldn't have been too much older. Mere months apart, so I think they would bond really closely as brothers. And yes, there would be a hint of jealousy from Viserys when he was younger.

Personality-wise Viserys is a lot like Baelon & Daemon is a lot like Alyssa. Therefore, I think Aegon would be straight bang in the middle. Not overly sensitive, but has emotional intelligence and will-power. He also would love a bit of danger and risky behaviour - but there'd always be a limit.

With Aegon surviving, I think he would have a cradle-egg. As Alyssa was one of Alysanne & Jaehaerys only fertile daughters; the clutch that would be found - would reflect that.

And the clutch would be from Meleys herself.

The egg chosen (by Viserys) would be a golden red with swirls and flecks of silver and burgundy. Viserys too would be given an egg, and Daemon - but neither would come to live.

As time went by and the three brothers aged, Aegon would be known by the smallfolk as Aegon the True King. This would be when Viserys 'claims' Balerion (flies him once around the city) and 'shows everyone he is the true heir.'

Aegon doesn't want the throne. But the 'signs of him being 'The Real Aegon, Come Again,' are shown in his birth and throughout his childhood. For example, surviving childbirth, having a cradle-egg that hatched, not being a push over/not being arrogant. Is what the smallfolk talk about.

Because Viserys really doesn't have a backbone.

And Daemon is constantly pushing boundaries.

However, I think that Aegon would be the mediator between the two brothers and balance them out really well. He's able to see both sides of the argument and calm them both down.

𝑵𝒐𝒘, 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏…

The cradle-egg, born from Meleys (Alyssa, his mothers dragon) is his whole world. Everywhere Aegon went, so did Vhalorys (VAHL-or-iss). Simplified, the name means 'shadow of fire.'

While Meleys' has a crimson colouring, her offspring is more of a golden red, verging on copper, with accents of silver, gold and burgundy. Signifying the duality of his nature.

His eyes are a deep silver with hints of purple. While his dragon-fire is pure silver; a burning heat that can melt even stone if he tried long enough.

Vhalorys has a similar shaped head as Meleys, but he has sharp horns running down his neck as well as four on his head; two on either side. They will grown to be large and one day may curve into rounded horns.

𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆: (artist unknown)

Aegon, being the youngest, could very well be sent off to become a maester - but as he has a dragon, that wouldn't work.

So, he would be used as a way to strengthen alliances. His marriage options would be a high born woman from:

House Baratheon

House Hightower

House Stark

House Arryn

One option could have been to marry Rhaenys, but as she is older than him - she would have already been arranged to marry Corlys. And he would be too old to marry Laena (he would find it weird).

I think he might fall in love with someone low-born, and when it was time to marry, he would be heartbroken. Or maybe he's asexual and doesn't have much sexual desire. However, I think he would have had a secret crush on Aemma, and he would have 100% treated her better. The way Viserys pushed for a son was unethical...

I have a feeling that Otto would invite Aegon to stay at Oldtown, keeping him away from court so that he could bring Alicent to woo Viserys after Aemma's passing.

He would love Rhaenyra, but in the proper family way. He'd constantly make her laugh, and would often take her up flying with him. He'd be someone she could rely on. Steadfast and always there for her and the people he cares about. Loyalty would mean a lot to him.

art credit: jota.saraiva

image credit: @molinerova.

[the-haunted-office]

Stanley listens attentively to Ed's descriptions of Los Angeles, absorbing it all. It's like nowhere he's ever been, so it all sounds special to him. Like an experience he'd like to have. One that he has certainly been denied. Or who knows - maybe it's one he's already had and just doesn't remember. But he'll never know that because he doesn't remember. Sure, he can remember the ideas of what things are, like what a city is and what an arcade is, but he has no memory of having ever been to those places.

He looks down at his coffee awkwardly too. Ed here has so much that he came from, so much that he's left behind, and here Stanley has... nothing. Nothing he can remember. There might be people back in his home dimension looking for him, missing him, people for Stanley to miss, places for him to miss, but... he can't remember any of it.

After a moment, he looks back up at Ed, a sort of distant, blank look in his eyes. In his mind, he's busy trying to fit himself into this world that Ed has described to him, trying to see if any of it jogs any memories, anything.

There is nothing.

It simultaneously guts him and fills him with anger.

But none of that shows on the outside.

He just sits there and blinks at Ed, and shrugs in response to what he's been asked. His thoughts queue up behind the speech link before it speaks for him, and then he signs with his hands too:

"I was just thinking... It sounds like a nice place. Like there's a lot to do there."

A short pause, and then he asks,

"You said you were close to Disneyland? I've heard of it. The name, anyway, and I have a kind of vague idea of what it is. Why did you never go?"

Stanley can't help but wonder, because if he were in Ed's shoes, he'd have loved to have gone.

Ed takes a sip of the coffee, seeming unbothered that it is still nearly scalding.

"You don't think you've been?" Ed frowns in confusion. "You've only been here as in... Doom said this used to be...Kansas City, I believe? Or..." Surely, Stanly didn't mean the Office. It wasn't like he was born here, so he had to come from somewhere else."

"Ah sorry, you don't have to answer that if you don't wish to." Ed certainly won't press if Stanley wasn't comfortable with the questions.

"But, anyway... Los Angeles?" Ed pauses. Where to start? "Summers are hot, winters are mild, part thanks to latitude, part because it's coastal," he starts, mostly because they had been talking about the weather just previously. "It's very dry. We only get about ten days where it rains a year, and it seems like it's on fire more often than not these days. There are also days when the smog gets so bad because the mountains trap it over the city. But the city--or I suppose the metro itself? There's so much to do between all the museums, five aquariums, the zoo... and of course Disneyland is a short drive from there... though ironically, I've never been. Ed looks from Stanley to the cup of Coffee in his hands. "Flynn's arcade was also popular when I was young, especially after Flynn took over Encom and up until the arcade closed about a year after he disappeared, but I was never allowed to go."

Ed stares at the coffee in his hands awkwardly. He hadn't been allowed to play any video games as a kid, mostly because of his father's bitter rivalry with and hatred of Flynn. It also had to do with the fact that the main villain of the Tron video game had a striking resemblance to his father, a fact that Ed had the misfortune of learning at school. It did nothing but make the bullying worse.

"But ah. Besides that... It's loud. Constantly busy and never sleeps. Lots of good food. There's considerable sized Indian, east Asian, and Mexican populations, and the number of hidden gems of hole-in-the-wall eateries with those cuisines reflects that." There weren't many that were safe for Ed to eat at with all his dietary restrictions, but there were a few, like the pho shop down the block from Encom that looked like it could be a Mafia front, and a taco stand not far from his home in Altadena.

He looks back up at Stanley, feeling like he'd said a whole lot and likely nothing important at the same time. "Anyway. Is there anything specifically you wanted to know about?"

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Birthday to Fallen London; My favourite British people beefing it with bats simulator.

[oodlesodoodles]

[cozylittleartblog]

idk if I've said it before, but your portrayals of both Rouxls and Queen are among my favorites, and the way they are when you combine the two is the sole thing that got me to say "yes" to queenkaard. When I first saw it in the game and it started catching on as a ship, I was like "nooo I hc him as gay," but then after seeing your stuff I was like "oh nvm I totally see this now."

i think hearing "i didn't see this ship before, but after your art i understand it and/or even ship it myself" is one of the nicest compliments i get, because it makes me feel like i'm representing something meaningful and sweet about a pairing and having people understand what i think is so great and captivating about them. i've gotten a couple asks like this and sometimes i forget to respond but i always really appreciate them :) thank you very much