#black lives matter to food bloggers

[megamindsecretlair]

Give Me Everything

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, use of the n-word, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: Thanksgiving Day was always a hustle and bustle of activity and noise, two things you don’t usually like even coming from a big family. While you flitted around checking in on everyone, you couldn’t help feeling a little selfish. After sending Terry a sexy picture while he was seated next to your father, you sneak off to your childhood bedroom to fulfill a little fantasy of yours.

Word Count: 5,518k

AO3 Link

A/N: Ya'll thought I was gonna let the holiday pass without a little treat? I lost the drabble challenge, but well, can't fight my brain no matter how hard I try. Happy Thanksgiving, happy bank holiday, or however you celebrate, many love and blessings to the greatest group of people ever. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

The rich smells of Thanksgiving food permeated the air and tickled your nostrils. You inhaled deeply as you flitted around the kitchen helping out the Aunties. No one messed with the Aunties on Thanksgiving.

You didn’t know how they managed to stay organized among the chaos. Between one of their husbands who constantly entered the kitchen asking when the food would be done and the little kids running throughout the house, it was a miracle they weren’t yelling and cursing up a storm.

“Fix me my medicine, baby,” Auntie Gee told you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you said. You pivoted away from helping Auntie Aileen with the yams and went over to the small pantry, grabbing supplies. You made a quick and dirty margarita for Auntie Gee and placed it in a glass. You already started in on another one because in one, two, three…

“I want one!” Auntie Mimi called out. You smiled to yourself, knowing your Aunties a little too well. Maybe you spent too much time around them all. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Your big family was a handful at times. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but good vibes and great conversation. The Aunties were currently going on about their favorite man, Denzel Washington.

“That man been fine his whole goddamn life!” Auntie Hope called from the round kitchen table. She cleaned the greens, taking the stems off and putting them into a red bowl, to be soaked in the kitchen sink a little later. Right now, your mom was at the farmhouse sink peeling potatoes. 

“Language, young lady!” Your grandmother, Grammy Alice, called out from the stove. She babysat the white sauce for the mac and cheese, carefully adding cheese and stirring to get the mixture right. 

“Sorry, momma,” Auntie Hope said. She grinned at you and winked. 

You giggled and handed Auntie Mimi her drink. “Thank you baby. You better get outta here before they snatch you to do something else,” she whispered.

And that’s why she was lowkey your favorite Auntie. You hugged and thanked her and then quietly slipped out while the Aunties discussed Denzel’s career. They categorically denounced Training Day as his best role. He was just playing a nigga, that’s all. They were stuck between John Q and Glory.

You left the spacious kitchen in a flash, disappearing around the corner and fell into the background as you soaked everything in. The well-decorated living room held most of the men yelling and screaming at the football game playing on the TV. They sat on the blue couch, lounge chairs, and picnic chairs all crowded around the large screen TV. You didn’t know a lick about the game, but by the sound of it, their team was making stupid ass decisions. 

Kids played Monopoly on the floor, a mix of little kids and the quieter teens who didn’t want to play with the older, rowdier teens outside. You carefully picked your way through the living room, stopping to place a kiss on your Dad’s withered cheek. You patted his shoulder and he brought his hand up to pat yours.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yes, sir. Food coming along,” you said.

He groaned aloud with the Uncles and boyfriends, everyone throwing up their hands and calling the ref out of his name.

“They need to get that blind mu’fucka off the field!” Uncle Cornell said. He was the only one semi-dressed up in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt. You didn’t know where Auntie Mimi found this character. 

Your dad chuckled, returning his attention to you. “Good, good. I’ma just sit here until your mom says it’s time,” your dad said with a secret grin. He made the mistake of entering the kitchen early one year, reaching for a piece of the ham and receiving a swift spoon to the back of the hand from Grammy Alice. He still had a little scar from how hard she popped him. 

“Probably for the best,” you said with a giggle. 

You left the living room, trekking through the raucous house in search for a little bit of peace. As much as you loved how big your family was, you were decidedly the opposite sometimes. You didn’t draw strength from being around so many people. You craved the quiet and silence that came with being by your lonesome. Probably a consequence of being an only child.

Perhaps that was one of the main things that drew you to your husband, Terry. He was the opposite to your family as well. Calm under pressure, quiet and unassuming despite his size; he really was perfect for you. 

You found him on the wide back porch with your cousins, sitting around a table playing dominoes. The teens and older cousins chased each other around the yard playing some game they made up years ago. You never understood the rules and your ass was too tired to continue chasing them around.

Some of the girl cousins watched their younger, baby siblings as they talked about whatever it was kids were into these days. Full. Your life was full to bursting and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You approached Terry and pecked his cheek. “Hey baby,” Terry said, lowering his dominoes to the table. He turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist from his seated position. 

“Just checking on you, is all,” you said. “You need anything?” 

Terry used his free hand to lift his half empty beer bottle. “Naw, I should be good for a minute. You need anything?” 

“She needs to leave the table so I can get back to whoopin’ yo ass, Marine boy!” Your cousin, Emery, yelled as he slammed down a domino. “Go on and put that thirty-five down for your boy!” He snickered as the game keeper, Darell, laughed and marked down Emery’s points. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. He peeked over at the scorecard on the notebook by Darell’s elbow. “Maybe you need to go back to math class. I’m still winning,” Terry said. 

A chorus of oooh’s and damn’s and “You gon’ let him talk to you like that, playboy?” rung around the wooden table. Emery waved them all off, a small smile on his face. 

“Alright, alright. Game ain’t over. Why don’t you go on? You killing the mood, girl,” Emery said. 

“I’m killing the mood? Just like a hatin’ nigga to focus on somebody else while he losing,” you said.

“Damn!” Cousin Craig yelled out, his long skinny face cracking into a harsh, wheezing laugh that only triggered everybody else to start laughing. 

You kissed Terry on the cheek once more, admiring the clean beard on his face. He looked good enough to eat himself. He wore a simple powder blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that really showcased his sexy ass. Just looking at him caused your stomach to do little belly flips.

Terry squeezed your side and smirked up at you as if he saw the direction of your nasty thoughts. He winked at you and you bid your farewell to the men and their little game. 

The majority of the day passed too quickly as you went from group to group, checking in on everyone. The domino game ended and the cousins joined the Uncles in the living room to check on the remainder of the game.

“Girl, don’t you ever sit down?” Your cousin, Robyn, asked. She was in your age group, relaxing with the other girl cousins who laid across multiple blankets, sipping their drinks of choice, and chilling out. 

You chuckled. “Girl no. Between your momma and mine, I keep getting called to do something. And I feel like if I sit down, I’ma pass out,” you said, shaking your head. 

Robyn and Ronda were twins of Auntie Aileen’s and they both shivered at the mention of their mother. “Please, don’t summon her,” Ronda said, shaking her head. “That lady trynna get me set up with her co-worker.” She stuck out her tongue and gagged.

“Not toxic enough for you?” Auntie Hope’s daughter, Stacie, asked.

“Hell no! That girl likes…theater,” Ronda said, making the word sound dirty. You laughed with your cousins, shaking your head at her. Ronda had the worst luck with women. Last year, one threatened to throw herself into traffic if Ronda didn’t come outside to talk to her. 

You and your cousins merely stared at her through the screen door and dared her to do it. You didn’t really mean it, but the girl was dramatic as hell and too full of herself to actually go through with it. 

“Dare I go check in on the Aunties?” You asked.

There was a resounding, “No!”, that seemed to echo even while outside. You laughed with your cousins. You were feeling restless, though. Anxious. You needed something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Maybe it was just the holiday. You took after your mother in the sense that you had a strong need to make sure everybody was okay. Everybody had all their toes and fingers accounted for, no bruises, no yelling, or fighting. If everybody else was okay, then all was right in the world with you. 

But sometimes…you got a little impish. Like you wanted to cause trouble just to see what would happen. You wanted to disrupt the delicate balance of the house and festivities and do something wicked. 

An idea immediately came to mind and you didn’t think twice about it. You said goodbye to your cousins, stepping back into the house to check on your dad. Lately, he had been feeling more winded than usual. More tired. You urged him to go to the doctor, but the relationship between men and hospitals needed to be studied. He avoided it like it was a nail in a coffin. 

Terry sat next to your dad, yelling at the TV with him. He brought his beer to his lush lips and took a deep pull. Your core instantly heated looking at your man. There was precious little he did that didn’t absolutely turn you on. 

He caught you staring and winked at you. You grinned and took out your phone, snapping a quick picture of him. He tilted his head, giving you a look. You stuck your tongue out at him and then checked the score. You found a free recliner opposite your dad and sat down, finally taking the load off.

While everyone was distracted, you quickly sent Terry a text. He checked his smart watch and then glanced at you, furrowing his eyebrows in an unspoken question. You smiled sweetly at him while he dug out his phone and checked your message.

💬 You sent a photo.

“Can Big Daddy come play?”

Terry immediately placed his phone down on his thigh, turning wide eyes towards you. You rocked in the recliner, grinning at him. You had sent a thirst trap to him, one you snapped in the bathroom earlier in the day. You had meant to show him at a later time, maybe while he was at work and needed a pick me up. 

He scooted forward on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his beard and tried to suppress a grin, subtly shaking his head at you. 

You continued to rock, feeling pleased as punch. You tried to see if he was getting hard but he was bent too much forward. The men groaned at the latest ref’s call and you turned to the TV to see the teams setting up for another play. 

You glanced back at Terry who kept his eyes trained on you. When you caught his eye, he narrowed them slightly and then jerked his head towards the stairs. You grinned and got up first, heading up to the second floor that remained off limits to everybody. Less rooms to clean up afterwards. 

The great thing about having a big family was that it was easy to disappear with no one the wiser. You headed upstairs to your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind you. The room was just as you left it in your early twenties when you finally moved out. There was still stuffed animals and an overflowing bookshelf in the corner, a wide dresser stretched underneath your TV, and “grown-up” art on the walls. You sometimes missed the B2K and B5 posters had tacked to your wall for years. 

Anticipation churned in your stomach as you waited for Terry’s quiet footfalls to follow behind you on the shaggy, brown carpet. A moment later, there was a soft knock and then Terry entered, looking behind the door for you. You ushered him in and then closed and locked the door, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He had to bend down slightly so that it wasn’t incredibly awkward for you and he groaned. “You trynna get me killed?” He demanded, stepping back to look you in the face.

You giggled and clasped your hands behind your back. “Whatever do you mean?” You asked. 

Terry smirked and advanced on you, causing you to bite your lip and retreat. He crossed the distance in one second, his long legs carrying him forward. He cupped your neck in both of his warm, strong hands and you moaned, eyes sinking lower now that you were back in his capable hands. 

“You think you slick sendin’ that picture while I was right next to your dad?” He asked.

You giggled again. Ugh, you couldn’t help it. He made you feel so feminine and girly whenever he went all big and strong on you. You were working on being more bold, opening your mouth and asking for what you wanted. But sometimes, you got so twisted up with nerves your mouth didn’t work. 

“Did you like it?” You asked. 

Terry squeezed your neck and you sighed at the pressure. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. “You know I liked it,” he said, glancing down at the front of his pants. You followed his gaze and noticed his dick pressed against the fabric of his jeans. You reached out to rub his bulge. 

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked.

“I can’t just want my man?” You asked. You continued to rub him, watching as his own eyes drooped. His naturally dark eyelashes nearly fanned his high cheekbones. 

“You know, there is one fantasy I always wanted to act out,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. Even after years of marriage, Terry made you feel like a school girl with a crush. Guess you could never really shake that bit of shyness from growing up in a loud household and seeking only peace. 

“Is that right,” he murmured. 

“Mhmm. I never really got to have boys in my room growing up,” you said. You blinked up at him with a smile hovering over your lips. Terry lightly squeezed your neck, stepping closer, as you continued to rub him through his jeans. His breathing increased, soft pitfalls loud in your ear because he was so close to you. 

“Am I the first boy in your room?” He asked. 

“Maybe. But don’t get a big head about it,” you said. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. His thumbs rubbed across your pulse points on both sides of your neck, turning you stupid in less than a second. You lost your train of thought as the rough slide of his fingers sent electric zings down to the tips of your toes. Your panties grew damp as you sighed. 

You kept waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over, but after a while, you just accepted that you two were just that intense for each other. Growing up, you saw your grandparents, parents, and extended family all find the love of their lives, each carving out a special relationship with their significant others. 

But it was Auntie Aileen’s marriage that you admired. Sometimes she and her husband seemed to communicate with just a look. Like they were the only two people in the world and everything else was background noise. You wanted and craved that. And by some miracle, you found that with Mr. Terry Richmond. 

“And, there’s a few things that I always wanted to do with a boy in my room if I ever got the chance,” you said. Your hands slipped to his jeans, unbuttoning them and then sliding the zipper down. 

“Mm, I think I like where this is going. You know, I had a similar fantasy,” he said. He smirked as you lowered his jeans enough to get to his boxer briefs. His dick was hot to the touch through the fabric, balls heavy, and you slipped your hand beneath the waistband to get to your prize. 

“Is that so?” You asked, palming his dick. He hissed and then released the sigh in a shudder. You grinned, feeling like the most powerful person ever. Just you gripping him caused a reaction. It was heady and intoxicating and you would never get sick of it. 

“Mhm. See, I always wanted to fuck my wife in her childhood home. Like it was a badge of honor or somethin’,” he said, his voice getting deeper and rougher. 

You shivered. Your panties were practically soaked now. Your pussy throbbed at the thought of you both having similar fantasies. You stepped back from his hands around your neck and then dropped down your knees. 

Terry’s eyebrows lifted as you grinned at him. You pressed your nose into his crotch and nuzzled. Terry sighed, petting your head as you tugged his briefs down to expose the long, thick length of him. 

The tip of his dick swelled, pre-cum already beading. You swiped your tongue out and licked it causing Terry to jerk his hips forward. “As much as I love this, we better hurry before one of the Aunties come looking for you,” he said.

You pouted. He was right. A bunch of girls to choose from to handle anything around the house and somehow it always fell to you. 

You sighed and kissed his dick, making it jump. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll make it up to you later,” you said.

Terry laughed and pleasure zinged through you. You loved pleasing your man. Whether it was making him laugh, checking in on him, or pleasing him during sex, you loved it when you could just make him feel good. 

Terry helped guide his dick into your mouth and you looked up at him while you worked in tandem. He pushed in and you sunk onto his dick, wrapping your lips around him. His hairs tickled your face but you kept your mind focused on making him cum as quickly as possible. 

Little did he know, you were in a competition with yourself to make him bust faster and faster. Maybe it was simply the competitive spirit in you. But you swore you’ve come from just a look from him. Turnabout was only fair play. 

Light from your window illuminated Terry through the slats of the blinds. He tipped his head back, mouth falling open as you worked him over with your tongue and hands. You gripped his base, squeezing how he liked while you took the rest in your mouth.

“Fuuck, this mouth of yours,” he moaned. Your pussy throbbed harder, growing wet from the sounds of his moans, the look of pleasure on his face. His eyes were closed, hands around the back of your head to push your mouth further down. 

You took him in and bobbed your head, really getting into pleasing him. You shifted on your knees and squeezed his dick harder. You moaned around his length, getting lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth. His dick poked your cheek and you teased the tip with your tongue.

“Just like that,” he coached so you did it again. You teased the tip while you sucked him off, loud gawking echoing in your ears. 

Saliva slipped from your mouth and drooped down your chin, letting him slip easier in and out. You increased your ministrations, bobbing in a frenzy, watching for any signs of his discomfort. 

You saw none of that. Instead, his face was twisted in a sexy mix of pleasure and pain. Soft moans escaped his mouth as you kept going, kept trying to take him deeper, kept trying to swallow him whole. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect with my dick in your mouth,” he cooed. 

You moaned, growing unbearably wet at his words. Your jaw started to ache but you ignored it in favor of wanting to get him off. Wanting him to bust in your mouth. You widened your jaw and he sunk in a little deeper.

He groaned and looked down at you. “I’m finna bust,” he whispered.

You grinned around his dick and kept up what you were doing until he gripped your head and spilled down your throat. His moans were their own aphrodisiac, filling you with pride that you got your man off so quickly. You swallowed his cum, something you were still getting used to, and then continued to suck. 

Terry huffed, hips jerking forward, as he couldn’t decide between laughing and moaning. He had to gently push at your head to make you stop and he eased his dick out. “You must think you’re cute,” he said.

You pinched your thumb and forefinger together. “A little,” you said. 

Terry chuckled, grabbing your hands and helping you stand. He kissed you, gripping your face to his to make you stay. You sighed with a moan, wrapping your arms around him. You made out for a good, long while, soaking up each other’s desperate kisses. 

“My turn,” he whispered against your lips. 

You only had a brief moment to catch the devious, nearly evil look in his eye as he lifted your plain gray T-shirt over your head. He didn’t take it off, instead he just wanted the collar over your head to expose your black, lacy bra. 

He groaned, getting a live view of the sexy picture you sent him earlier. He thumbed your nipples through the bra, making them bead up. He backed you towards your closet door, then dropped his head to suck on your nipples around your bra.

You moaned, gripping the back of his neck. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Shhh. We ain’t trynna get caught ‘cause of your nasty ass,” he said.

“My nasty ass?” You asked with a giggle. 

“Your nasty, sexy, delicious ass, yes,” Terry said in between licking and kissing your titties. He used his index finger in between the cups to lower it, exposing your nipples to his gaze. He tucked the cups of your bra beneath your titties and went back to sucking on them. 

Each suckle sent a wave of heat through your body and if you weren’t careful, you’d turn into a raging inferno right there in your childhood bedroom. Your moans only increased, getting louder the more he worked that glorious, hot tongue on you. 

You wished you had enough time to get your pussy licked on. But you were already pushing the envelope at the moment with so many people just downstairs. Risk of discovery only turned you on more, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Terry slipped his hand down your leggings and past your underwear, finding you soaked. He paused with your nipple in his mouth. “You got this wet from sucking me off?” He asked with his mouth full. 

You nodded. “Sure did,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “Good to know,” he murmured. 

You didn’t have time to ask him about that because he went back to sucking on your titties while he plunged two fingers into your pussy. You cried out, and he gave you a warning look, before working those long, thick fingers in and out of you.

“I-I didn’t suck you off to get something back,” you whispered. As much as you would like to turn this into a full on session, you were also cognizant of the time. Surely, someone would come looking soon, right? You weren’t exactly subtle heading upstairs. 

“Think I’ma leave my favorite girl like this?” He asked. He emphasized his point by plunging his fingers faster, the squelching of your pussy smacked in the room. 

“Oh, baby. Oh, Terry, please, I’m gonna…unnf,” you moaned as quietly as you were able. 

“That’s okay, baby, you cum on these fingers. You cum all over this fingers f’me,” he murmured, still treating your titties like his favorite meal. He kissed, suckled, and nibbled until you turned into a puddle in his arms.

You were only held up by your hands around his neck and his arms around you. You shook violently, trapping his fingers between your thighs as you rode out your orgasm. Terry still managed to wiggle his fingers inside, rubbing against a sweet, sweet spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. 

Your nails dug into his soft sweater and you shivered on your way down from it. Terry kissed and rubbed his beard against your nipples. Was the man trying to kill you? 

He leaned back and smiled at you. “I love the look you give me after you cum,” he said.

You giggled. “What look is that, sir?” You asked.

“Like a well-satiated woman. That’s always my goal,” he said.

You smiled and tilted your hand. “You better be careful talking to me like that. I might think you wanna marry me,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “Oh, I wanna do more than marry you,” he said. He grinned and then gripped the waistband of your leggings and panties. He slid the pants down your legs, his hand traveling behind to rub against your thighs. 

You stared at each other, smiles hovering on your faces, as he got them down to your calves. You stepped out of them and Terry wasted no time picking you up. You yelped as he spread you wide open, hooking your thighs around his waist.

Holding his hand under your ass, he used his other one to guide his dick into your slick heat. Your eyes widened at the glorious, burning stretch as you sank down onto him. Your toes curled as he sank in deeper and deeper, your essence making the trip easy. 

Terry maneuvered his arms under your knees, so that he could easily lift you up and down on his dick. You gripped onto him for dear life, turning wide, panicked eyes to him. You didn’t think he’d drop you, no, your husband was too strong and capable for that. You just felt like you were about to rip apart at the seams and he was the only thing keeping you together. 

“You did say you wanted Big Daddy to come and play, right?” He whispered, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, smooth, and so damn hot you clenched around his dick. He groaned and lifted you off his dick just to sink back in. 

“Don’t be using my words against me,” you said.

“Oh word?” He asked with a grin. All the niceties flew out of the window. He started slamming you up and down on his dick, that stretching burn making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, bringing your face closer to his. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck and held on while he fucked you, stuffed you, and filled you so completely you felt him all over. He was in your heart, your mind, and your soul, writing his name in the threads of your being. 

“There’s my good girl. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” he said.

You whined against his face, peppering him with sloppy kisses. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I like when you get bold. Let me know you want this dick,” he said. He rubbed his beard against your cheek and you moaned.

“I want it. Please, I want it,” you whispered. 

Knocking drew your attention to your door. You turned wide eyes to Terry who stopped moving. He glanced towards the door. 

“Baby, you in there?” Your mom called out. Your heart beat in double time, fear turning your insides icy.

“What should I do?” You whispered. Okay, you lied, getting caught would suck ass right now. There was no way to explain this to your mom. You just didn’t talk about these things with her. As far as she was concerned, you were married but still a virgin.

“If you don’t answer, she gonna send a search party,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, mom?” You called out. 

“What are you doing in there? Food’s getting ready to be done so I need your help organizing the line,” she said.

“Yes, mommy, I-I wasn’t feeling well so I came to lay down,” you called out. 

“Do you need some medicine? You want me to grab Terry?” She asked. 

Terry grinned and started moving you up and down on his dick again. Your jaw dropped, tummy fluctuating between arousal and fear. The normal butterflies in your stomach were having a field day. 

You slapped at his shoulder to get him to stop. Or quit fucking around. He couldn’t think this was a great idea, making you take his dick like this while talking to your mom. He grinned innocently, moving his lips down back to your nipples to suck.

You closed your eyes, not knowing where to focus your attention. “Uh-no! I’m okay! I’ll be out soon, promise!” Oh, fuck, he hit a good spot inside you and you clutched him to you.

“Alright, better come on. Your Uncle Remy ‘bout to work my damn nerves,” your mother sniffed as she presumably went on down the hallway. 

You gasped and tapped Terry’s shoulder again. Terry answered you with a chuckle and then ended on a moan. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned like it was a glorious revelation. His deep voice skated along your nerve endings, making your tummy flip with desire. 

“Terry, please!” You moaned.

“Big Daddy ain’t finished yet,” he said and nuzzled your neck. He placed kisses there while he pumped his arms, moving you up and down on his dick. Your toes curled once more, fast approaching that train to nirvana. 

“Oh, please, Big Daddy, I can’t take it,” you cried. 

“Sure you can. Cum on this dick so I can fill you up. Let me feel it,” he said into your neck. His groans joined yours, hips jerking into you like he was close as well. “Soak this dick, baby.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder and let the orgasm roll over you like a subway train. You twitched and jerked on him, keening whines and cries filling your room as you lost sound in your right eye. 

Or maybe this was that nirvana you were dreaming of. Maybe you slipped into another plane of existence where your souls danced and entwined for eternity. Either way, Terry’s groans brought you back to this side of existence while he stuffed you full of his cum.

The hot, thick spurts throbbed with his dick, sliding against your inner walls. You cried, feeling overwhelmed and thoroughly fucked out. You both panted and huffed as you came down, gathering your senses post-nut. 

You smiled dopily at your man and he flashed you a beautiful, wide grin. “There’s that look I love so much,” he said.

“You are dangerous,” you said.

He chuckled. “Saying I’m dangerous while your pussy feel this good squeezing my dick. Just say you don’t wanna let go,” he said.

You squeezed his dick and he laughed, lowering you carefully to the floor. Once he slipped out, his cum came rushing out of you and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation. Terry suddenly pushed his cum right back in.

“Terry!” You screamed. 

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. I like watching my cum slide out of you,” he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled at him while you crossed the room to your dresser. Sometimes, you came to spend the night with your parents to help keep an eye on your dad while your mom got a break.

You grabbed an extra pair of panties and a towel from off of your bed. You cleaned yourself up as best as you were able and then slipped your leggings back on. Thank goodness that a bathroom was directly across from your room. You wouldn’t have to trek far to get fully cleaned up. 

Terry stuffed that dangerous monster back into his jeans. You stood, transfixed, watching him slide the denim over his dick and zip up his pants with a little hop. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Big Daddy,” you said, admiring your man.

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby,” he said, pulling you into a hug and one final kiss before leaving your room in a cloud of marital bliss.

The end.

I love you all and I'm so thankful for you. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist:

@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[adversarialharrow]

Perspectives on Policy and Individual Rights: A Dialogue

The year was 2017.

Eric Dorger sat back on his recliner and blew out a smoke of puff of marijuana smoke like he always did around this time at eight it was about like two hours after he got out of work and he had plenty of time to do his jumping Jacks and push-ups.

"Yeah, I know the news is all bullshit." he says He throws, tosses., the phone.

"How are they gonna write an article about air, traffic control and they’re not even going to say or even talk about what aircraft traffic control even is instead they're going to bait with a guy named Alfonso and talk about how he wants inclusion diversity."

Libertarian blogger, Lou Krukowski sits down for an interview.

"Graves ass still hey Eric, I know you know I respect your opinion. What do you think about about the presidential race?"

"I mean my God," Eric said "say you have seven candidates five of them are boiler plate. You have one kind of true this GADFLY." "Oh, you think he’s kind of true then. Yeah, I know Eric. I can tell I see you’re pretty enlightened about this subject about these subjects I mean." "Yeah."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" "No, not right now I haven’t really been dating. I’m actually a little concerned with cultural trends right now I went to a coffee shop and got stared down for wearing a button-down shirt with corduroys. It’s not like I go to that shop to see the girls but I don’t know I guess I just saying that if the girls weren’t there I don’t know if I would get that coffee at least not every day like not every day when I’ve already had one." He starts tapping.

Lou just like.. "Do you have any opinions about Black Lives Matter?" "I don’t know if at the end of the day any lives matter I guess it’s about our rights but it’s not like there isn’t context."

"How do you view the United States' role in global affairs? Should the government prioritize non-interventionism, or do you support military engagement in certain situations?" "I don’t know to the extent I eat food off of those tables."

"Well, that sucks Eric I mean hey thanks for your time. I know you like to chat so speak up I guess call me if you have any questions. You have my number, right?"

[treadmilltreats]

How the world has changed

I love Facebook's remember when because it reminds me of events that I may have forgotten or didn't realize happened so recently or so long ago.

This morning as I was going through I saw so many of my posts about what the world was like a few years ago. We were on lockdown, COVID was spreading like wildfire, people were dying and on top of that, there were riots all around the world about black lives matter. In all my years on earth, I had never seen anything like what was going on during this time.

It felt like the world was imploding on itself. People had so much anger and hatred and most people were just scared of what was going to happen to the world. I even remember my girls asking me if the world was coming to an end and I honestly couldn't answer them. None of us knew what was going to happen.

I can't imagine what people who had depression issues or anxiety attacks were going through during this time. I look back and think, did we learn anything? Has the world changed because of this? Unfortunately, It doesn't seem like it.

The left is still against the right. Our freedoms are being taken away little by little every day. There are still mass shootings and there are no different gun control laws. Black men are still being shot senselessly without any justification or repercussions.

If you follow me or know me, you know that I try to look for all the lessons in whatever life throws at me. In the good and the bad but others don't see the world like I do. Many people don't want to take responsibility for their actions or admit to failure or wrongdoing (You don't have to look far, you can just look at the person you elected to run our country to see that). It's as if that would make them look bad or less than in others' eyes. But we all must stand up and take responsibility for the state the world is in right now.

We allowed politicians to lie to us, to do things that don't benefit the whole, instead of just the upper 10%. We haven't spoken up enough for the rights of others when we could have and now our own beliefs and rights are slowly being chipped away at. People are going without food and shelter in the United States of America!

We are becoming a third-world country right in front of our eyes and yet there is no change.

So today my friends, like I always say at the end of every blog, be the change you want to see. I believe wholeheartedly, we can all change at any time if we choose to do so. It takes one person to stand up and say enough is enough. One Rosa Parks to say I will no longer stand for this, to make a difference. We all need to take responsibility for what we have allowed to become of our world and if we want it to change we all need to be that change we want to see.

@TreadmillTreatsCheck out my daily blogs @ https://treadmilltreats.blogspot.com/?m=1

Www.treadmilltreats.com

**Now released my latest book**

The Blessing in Disguise.... revealed

https://www.amazon.com/Blessing-Disguise-Revealed-story-faith/dp/1074340493/ref=sr_1_19?keywords=the+blessing+in+disguise&qid=1561392004&s=books&sr=1-19

***Now available***

My 1st book The blessing in Disguise

Selling on my website:

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

And on Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_13?qid=1462358109&sr=1-13&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=the+blessing+in+Disguise

http://www.am6azon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_12?qid=1434452632&sr=8-12&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=the+Blessing+in+Disguise

My weekly Youtube page, please subscribe:

https://youtu.be/LDSXCFJVnzM

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

Twitter: treadmill treats

Instagram: treadmilltreats

Facebook :treadmill treats

Http://Www.treadmilltreats.com

#treadmilltreats

#Theblessingindisguise

#blog

#blogger

#love

#instagram

#lifestyle

#blogging

#influencer

#bloggers

#bloggerlife

#Garyvee

#Jayshetty

#write

#writer

#motivationalspeaker

#motivation

#motivationalquotes

#motivational

#inspiration

#success

#quotes

#soulsisterssoulution

#NewYorktimesbestseller

#Oprah

#TylerPerry

[opintexspices]

We are India’s trusted leading Company Opaline Intrinsic Export LLP established in 2022 at Pune, Maharashtra.

India is the largest producer and consumer of organic whole spices which adds Aroma and taste to your food and ultimately your life. Many Continental foods are incomplete without Indian spices. So we contribute to make it complete and joyful through our various products and services.

We are Traders, Distributors, Wholesalers, Exporters, engaged in Organic whole spices like dry red chilli, cloves, black pepper, cardamom, cumin seeds, coriander seeds, turmeric finger and various processed food products like banana powder, chilli flakes, chilli paste, dehydrated onion flakes and powder, cumin powder, coriander powder, chilli powder, turmeric powder and many more.

We procure our products directly from experienced farmers as well as verified and certified manufacturers to ensure its best quality by maintaining proper hygiene and safe environment.

We embrace technology and innovative ideas in order to improve the product shelf life and add values to people’s lives.

Under the guidance of Founder Priyanka Wankhade and Co-founder Vinita Karande of our company, we took initiative to make people realise that export is easy. We aim to let them know that how much Export is important to contribute and improve Indian Economy for that matter. We are working on creating more Exporters and women entrepreneurs to build our nation as a developed country.

[kyuuzeroichi]

The Digital Space: Tumblr

With the world becoming more and more connected to the internet, we find ourselves meeting and greeting in what was initially seen as an unconventional way. We migrated away from the physical and onto the digital. As technology has progressed and the power of information landed in the palm of our hands, digital communities are here to stay. These platforms allow us to connect with different individuals across the world with similar interest, perspectives, and values. As the internet is aging, there have been various platforms that have risen and fallen over the years, one of which is still standing tall, Tumblr.

Unlike Facebook, that required its users to use their full name in order to use the platform, Tumblr allowed it’s users to remain anonymous, and disclosing their real names was a choice of their own. Tumblr is a well-known digital community, that is reminiscent of blogging sites that were prevalent during early 2000’s. Tumblr brought together like minded bloggers, content creators and consumers all under one roof. To help with the unification of the platform, Tumblr’s utilization of hashtags aided in discoverability for one’s blog to the masses. From lighthearted topics like food or travel, to more sensitive topics that gain traction and rally more people behind, like the Black Lives Matter movement or body positivity. “Hashtags and social media in general allow for collective solidarity that cuts across the lines of class, race, and sexuality” (Gill & Orgad, 2018). As Tumblr was originally known for its tolerance and acceptance with NSFW (Not Safe For Work) content, this permitted more awareness and thought provoking movements, branching out into sub genres and gain momentum with hashtags such as “effyourbeautystandards”, “beautybeyondsize” and “curvygirl” to further increase the outreach. In conclusion, the digital space has become our playground, workspace and the “water cooler” for any and all forms of discussion and communication. Reif, A, Miller, I, Taddicken, 2022, “ ‘Love the Skin You’re In’: An Analysis of Woman’s Self Presentation and User Reactions to Selfies Using the Tumblr Hashtag #bodypositive”, Mass Communication and Society

[influglueofficial]

Top lifestyle bloggers in USA - Influglue USA

The influencer community cages a wide range of roles. However, there are some areas in which they can make a big mark on clients’ findings. So, lifestyle is one of the top famous and is one of them.

The term lifestyle contains a wide range of topics. From fashion travel and food to home décor, it’s all about getting personal aims and living a good quality of life. Many people dream of living it up, and lifestyle influencers provide them with push, ideas, and tips.

They are famous due to their perfect taste and seeking for everything amazing in the world. They always aim to inspire various audiences by blogging about their daily goods and lives. Their realism and relatability have made them a crucial part of numerous influencer marketing drives.

Thus, if you are looking for a daily pose of impetus or someone to aid your lifestyle label, then you must know about these lifestyle bloggers in usa. Let’s dive and learn more about black lifestyle bloggers on this topic.

Here are the Top lifestyle bloggers in USA

● Joanna Godard

A Brooklyn-based blogger and lifestyle brand owner, Joanna Goddard runs Cup of Jo. She founded the Cup of Jo in the early days of blogging in 2007 and is still growing robust with routine content on design, food, culture, style, travel, parenting and relationship. The blog’s monthly page views are over 5 million, and it gets about 1 million monthly amazing views. To maintain the blog’s fame, Joanna has hired a whole team. There is no doubt that she is one of the best lifestyle bloggers in USA.

● Camille Walker

Camille Walker is the owner of the website My Mommy Style. To share what she has known about Motherhood and to pull aid from other moms from across the globe, her site is a perfect place to learn about being a mom and admit that you are not raising your juniors solely. It does not matter if you have never met Walker, but you will feel like you are close friends. She regularly interacts with people via her blog and regularly strikes up talks.

You can follow Walker for recipes, activities for children, and travel ideas for your family. In addition to telling stories about her four children, she provides helpful tips, and life hacks to help her cope with the more challenging times. Therefore, she is one of the top lifestyle bloggers in usa.

● Mariam Ezzeddine

Mariam Ezzeddine is among the top 10 American bloggers. She is a food influencer and the owner of the blog Cooking with Mima. She graduated from college with criminal justice but finally took her love for meals and turned it into her firm. She has about 2.5 million followers on her largest Food blog on Instagram. There is a wide variety of food porn available from various cultures. You will find a recipe in the caption of each post that is easy to prepare and healthy. However, Mariam’s tactic to audience feedback sets her apart from her peers. When she receives feedback and ideas from her followers, she takes them into account.

● Carmen Renèe

In addition to writing about style, home decor, event hosting, maternity, and everyday life, Carmen Renèe is a lifestyle blogger based in Houston. In her blog, Carmen says she wants to uplift women to feel secure and lovely for their skin. Also, she’s got over 70,000 Instagram followers. Working with Walmart, WW (Weight Watchers), Mrs Meyers, and Grove Collaborative are some of her faves. She is one of the famous bloggers for lifestyle in US.

● Joanna Gaines

Joanna Gaines is a designer, thriving entrepreneur, loving mother and host of Fixer Upper on HGTV. She works on beautifying and redoing homes with her husband, Chip. Her husband takes care of the building part, and she leverages her skill in design to help her clients.

Fixer Upper allows them to showcase the overhauls they are doing at the owner of the Mongolia homes. Additionally, she utilizes Instagram to increase exposure for the show and its business. She is one of the most popular home-decor top lifestyle bloggers in USA, with over 7.5 million followers.

● Blake Scott Silva

Blake Scott Silva owns The Scott Effect, a lifestyle and fashion blog. Besides covering menswear and international travel on his blog, Blake has over 655,000 followers on Instagram. Many firms, including Audi, Cool Sculpting, and Crosby Square, have partnered with Blake.

● Amanda Stanton

Amanda Stanton is a single mother to her two daughters, Charlie and Kinsley, and she is a tenant of Southern California. She comes under the top 10 American bloggers, has a unique style, and loves to express herself through all things design-related.

She posts myriad images of herself wearing stylish outfits on her Instagram page. She also posts cute pics of her daughters. Furthermore, her blog talks about fashion, interior design, and makeup. Fab, Fit, Fun and Third Love are just a few of the ecommerce brands Amanda works with.

The bottom line,

You must know and follow these top lifestyle bloggers in USA. These bloggers post great content to help you learn more about your life. Then what are you waiting for? Follow these Best lifestyle bloggers in USA and learn more about lifestyle tips that will aid you in the future.

FAQs

What is a lifestyle blog?

A lifestyle blog is a website where an individual or group of like-minded people share and promotes their daily lives and perspectives.

Who is the most lifestyle famous blogger in USA?

Camille Styles is one of the lifestyle famous bloggers in USA.

Is life in the United States good?

The United States is still the land of opportunity and one of the most desirable places to live.

What kind of blogs are popular in 2022?

Food blogs, Travel blogs, Health and fitness blogs, Lifestyle blogs and Fashion and beauty blogs are some of the famous blogs in 2022.

Who is the No 1 blogger in the world?

The Huffington Post blog is the most popular in the world. Ariana Huffington runs this blog.

top lifestyle bloggers in usa, influencer marketing platform usa, influencer marketing platform in usa, top influencers in usa, influencer marketing company in usa, influencer marketing agency usa, influencer marketing usa, top food bloggers in usa, top beauty bloggers in usa, top fashion bloggers in usa, top travel bloggers in usa, influencer marketing companies, youtube influencers usa, influencer marketing agency, instagram influencer marketing platform , influencer marketing strategies

[tittyinfinity]

I've noticed that the vast majority of people that I've come across who hold this "vote blue no matter who" opinion are white.

And I know firsthand that a major part of white USamerican culture is making sure that white people stay comfortable. And I don't just mean that as far as politics - white families even expect their family members to never bring up any topics that make them uncomfortable, lest you be accused of "ruining the mood." I can't talk about disability rights without getting scolded on how my complaints "turn everything too negative." And just because you have progressed further left than your white family members does not mean you have completely unpacked just how much USAmerican society is based on your white personal comfort.

There are white people being oppressed for their gender, sexuality, and disabilities, yes. But any issue we face, BIPOC are affected by twice as hard. But again, because of White Comfort, we have to pretend like we're all equally oppressed for these issues. "Omg don't make it into a race thing, don't play oppression olympics, we're all in this together!"

If we're all in this together then "together" should include allowing them to safely voice their opinions. Even if you don't agree with them.

the fact that there has been never-ending genocide from the US ever since it was was "founded" and we're still gonna believe that electoral politics can save us just because they haven't committed genocide towards the able-bodied white people living here "yet" is extremely concerning in terms of seeing just how far we'll let democrats go as long as the genocide goes to someone else. I guess we're gonna completely forget about the BIPOC and disabled people who have already been dealing with murder & oppression here in this country for hundreds of years. Let's just forget about the fact that we still have camps at the Mexican border to throw people in while stealing their children and adopting them out to white families. Let's just forget about the fact that the government still poisons the water in black neighborhoods. Let's just ignore that our government allows disabled people to suffer and die because of lack of access to healthcare, money, and accessibility in general. ESPECIALLY disabled BIPOC. Let's just ignore how Native Americans haven't stopped dealing with genocide ever since the first white man showed up.

People here who have been continuously oppressed throughout every presidency have been trying to tell everyone this for years. I noticed a lot of the BIPOC bloggers I used to follow are no longer active on their accounts, because Y'ALL DROVE THEM OFF THE WEBSITE. Because you put this expectation on them to be super polite about their criticism of the government lest they be accused of being too rude or angry, which is literally a racist talking point that has been used to suppress the voices of black women. Many of them being accused of being "Russian psyops." A lot of white people posting about supporting BLM while telling POC to shut up every time they criticize our system.

How many more years do we need to wait for liberation just to make sure those of us who aren't who aren't impacted can be comfortable, because "at least that's less genocide?"

And I can't speak for every disabled person, but my life has gotten significantly worse under Biden than it did Trump because he's doing nothing to stop the inflation crisis. They give me $760 a month. And that was after I spent a year fighting to get it raised from $700. But then they also took away $100 of my food stamps right after raising my SSI, and this month, they reduced it by $70 more. So they actually took $110 a month AWAY from me. I won't give Trump any credit for it, but I got enough food stamps to feed my entire family of 5 at the time, and now, with a total of $170 less food stamps for the month added onto how food prices are skyrocketing, I can't even feed my family of THREE for two weeks. I'm living at my mom's because I lost the ability to afford the $100 increase in my rent. I'm starting to think maybe the presidential election doesn't matter much if neither candidate can stop bad shit from happening and keep INCITING it instead

i can't shut up i'm sorry I'm ranting about Biden again

I'm starting to think Trump's presidency really wasn't any worse than what we have going on now, he was just targeting different people.

Bear with me.

The thing is, Biden has been the president for most of the pandemic and he hasn't been doing anything to stop the spread of it, so when people say "but Trump would kill US here!!" I wanna mention that Biden is already killing people of all parts of the political spectrum with his passiveness on covid

Biden is smarter than Trump. He's been in politics longer. He has had decades of learning how to maneuver politics. He has agreed with a lot of bad policies, many more than Trump even had the ability to do w his only 4 years of presidency. Trump is more interested in his image than anything else. Which is also dangerous! But it's much easier to convince people that Trump, a guy who is loud about his prejudices and caused a lot of damage because of that, is worse than a guy who pretends to agree with you on issues and then commits literal genocide.

Like I said, it just changes who is targeted instead. But is that really the case? We're already being targeted in different ways. A few good things have passed under Biden! But we also lost more bodily autonomy rights as far as abortion and trans rights go (not everywhere, but many states have become dangerous to live in). "That's not completely his fault" sure! Well then if the president doesn't have the power to change things truly for the better themselves, then worrying about who the president will be doesn't really matter. Also, presidents in the US have the ability to make executive orders.

And maybe he has spoken up on these things more and I just haven't heard about them - but Biden does not take the time to speak out about the anti-abortion, anti-trans, or healthcare related issues, except for the occasional quip here and there before he goes right back to not giving a shit. And I'm only using those as an example because a lot of "vote blue no matter who" people apparently only care about what happens to people here instead of in other countries.

And it's just really shitty to say "well what about the people who COULD die under a republican presidency instead of the real people dying from Biden's incitement of genocide right now!"

Trump incited a LOT of hatred in our country, yes. It pushed people to be more loud and open about their prejudices. But the deaths caused by hate crimes and COVID here in America were not on near of a large and deadly scale as what Biden is doing right now. We didn't watch our entire cities get destroyed and have our entire families wiped out.

So it seems, again, like the "vote blue no matter who" crowd only cares about politics when it comes to how THEY will (or MIGHT) be affected.

Am I saying vote for Trump or DeSantis? Fuck no. I'm saying prevent the next election from happening and burn this imperialistic genocidal government to the ground. The US has caused enough death, well into the millions, ever since it was created, and hasn't ever stopped committing genocide. But it only seems to matter when it (COULD) happen to white Americans.

Mexican people are still being put in cages and having their children stolen, too.

Indigenous people are still being murdered.

Disabled people are still dying from lack of accessible healthcare.

And the prices of everything have SKYROCKETED since Biden became president.

People are already suffering under a democratic president. You just won't care until it happens to you.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

What's scaring me as a POC is how many POC I know seem to have been alarmingly fascist all along, or fall for fascism 😔 A local East Asian food blogger whom I thought had been posting anti-vax rallies and the Freedom convoy turned out to be a supporter who's currently wining and dining with PP, and is using his huge following here to campaign for him to become PM. My Black neighbours who used to vote Liberal at least for years became PPC voters. I got stopped in the street once and got a fascist rant about how the left, LGBT community, Black Lives Matters: immigrants, homeless, etc. are ruining Canada, a land of law and order, unlike the uncivilized brown countries, and we need strong right-wing leadership and police. (This guy was Middle Eastern and an immigrant himself, and a South Asian woman who was there also backed him up on his fascist beliefs.) So many people in my own community seem to love the right bc 'they won't make us pay taxes' and 'traditional values'.

I just want to scream that they will never be accepted by white supremacists who are just using them, and would happily want us all dead or deported, but some of them really believe that aligning with whiteness will get them ahead of other POC and immigrants they see as lesser, and it's so frustrating.

~~~~

[capseycartwright]

Hi! I just saw your reblogged prompt list, and if you have an idea for 31. northern lights, I would love to see what you come up with! I know this isn't too classical for Christmas but.. anyway, thank you!

Eddie knew everything about Buck. That was the point of being married, he supposed – he knew every dream, and whim, and desire his husband had. He knew Buck’s favourite colour, favourite food, how hot he liked to have his shower temperature – and what his dream vacation, was.

The Northern Lights.

It had started, during lockdown and quarantine. Buck had found a woman on TikTok who lived in the Arctic, in a remote town, and he’d gone down a pretty intense rabbit hole – finding bloggers and documentaries and consuming every bit of content he could, transfixed by the idea of the Northern Lights – this majestic, magnificent aurora that you could see across the Arctic circle, the sky a kaleidoscope of greens and blues and purples.

Eddie wished he had the money to take his husband to see the Northern Lights – really, he did – but they had a kid to provide for, and a mortgage to pay, and Eddie’s paycheck didn’t extend to paying for Buck’s dream trip to the Arctic. Maybe one day – Eddie was an optimist, and he was good at saving money, too, and he’d pull it together, one day, but it wasn’t going to be this year.

But it had been a rough few weeks, and Eddie wanted to be able to do something nice for Buck. They’d had a string of bad shifts, and worse calls, and Buck was struggling – Eddie had known and loved the man long enough to know when Buck was struggling, even if he wasn’t able to voice how down he was feeling.

So, Eddie had faked a snotty nose, and asked Buck if he could drop Christopher off at Karen and Hen’s house for a sleepover – carefully preplanned with Hen, over a quiet moment in work, restocking the ambulance – and he’d set his plan in action.

When they’d moved into their new place, the first house of their own, the first thing they’d bought was black-out curtains for their bedroom (“Because we work stupid hours,” Buck explained, wobbling on their unsteady ladder as he measured the width of their windows. “And this way, we get to sleep in.”) and they paid off, for many reasons, but right now, they paid off because they made their room dark enough for Eddie to set up their projector.

He’d done a bit of furniture rearranging – and Eddie definitely did not recommend trying to move a California King bedframe on your own – and made them a nest of blankets and pillows, even going as far as making a pot of hot chocolate for them – the dark chocolate one Buck loved so much, with a hint of chilli in the mixture, cosy and warm and comforting, in the very best of ways.

“Eddie?” Buck called, the sound of the front door clicking behind him drawing Eddie’s attention.

“Hi,” Eddie greeted, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. “Shoes and jacket off, please.”

Buck laughed, tiredly, but complied, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door, easing off his sneakers. “What are you up to, Eddie Diaz?”

“Buckley-Diaz,” Eddie corrected with a grin, pressing a steaming mug of hot chocolate into Buck’s hands. “I wanted to do something nice for you, after these terrible few weeks,” he explained, guiding Buck down the hallway, pausing outside of their bedroom. “I know – I can’t afford, to take you on your dream holiday, right now, to the Arctic, to see the Northern Lights.”

Buck shook his head. “Eds, come on – neither of us can afford to do that, right now, it doesn’t matter.”

“Hush,” Eddie soothed, running a hand down Buck’s side. “But I thought that this year, I could bring the Northern Lights to you,” he continued, pushing open the door of their bedroom. It was dark, inside, completely dark, and their projector was playing a rolling video of the Northern Lights against the blank wall of their bedroom. Eddie had found – with Christopher’s help – a three-hour long video of the Northern Lights, and the bright purples and greens were illuminating their room.

“I know it’s not the real thing,” Eddie shrugged, feeling slightly nervous, wondering how Buck would react. “But I hope you like it.”

“Eddie,” Buck set his hot chocolate down, wrapping Eddie in one of those signature Evan Buckley hugs, arms tight around Eddie as he held him close. “God – I love you so much,” he said, kissing each of Eddie’s cheeks in turn, and then his lips. “Eddie – baby,” he sounded in awe, as he looked around the room. “This is amazing.”

Eddie couldn’t help the way his face flushed. “It’s just a video.”

“It’s not, though,” Buck shook his head. “You – you listen, Eddie,” he said. “To every silly little thing I tell you.”

“I always listen,” Eddie reassured, because he did – of course he did. He loved to listen to Buck, all the silly thoughts and random questions and the running monologue that Buck would give. He loved to listen to Buck.

“That’s why I love you so much,” Buck kissed him again, gaze fixed on the projector. “We couldn’t go to the Northern Lights – so you brought them to me,” he sounded amazed, eyes wide as the video gently flickered on, the soft jazz music Eddie had set to play from his phone the only other sound in their room. He was smiling – really smiling, for the first time in weeks, the expression soft, and sincere, and one of the very many things Eddie had fallen – and continued to fall – in love with every single day.

“I’d do anything, to see you smile,” Eddie admitted, tugging on Buck’s hand, getting the two of them settled in the little nest of blankets he’d made them, hot chocolate in hand. “You know that, right?”

Buck curled close to him, humming happily, more relaxed than he’d been in a while. “I know,” he reassured, linking his fingers tightly with Eddie’s, eyes trained on the video. “That’s why I married you, Eds.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to Buck’s shoulder, more interested in Buck, than he was in the flickering Northern Lights that had made their unusual – and very digital – journey to their home in Los Angeles. “I love you.”

Buck's grin was a chocolatey one, the remains of his first few sips of hot chocolate clinging to his scruffy off-duty beard. "I love you more."

send me a christmassy prompt

[acupofjones]

May we always remember Freedom Was Never Free!

In honor of Juneteenth my husband tasked our kiddos with researching and writing one page about Juneteenth.

I love what they wrote and I’m honored to share! It’s important not only that we know our why, but that we ensure our children understand it as well!

I almost teared up when Lyss wrote that Juneteenth is not only about freedom, but about honoring those that made this freedom possible…

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (anime heat 2)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. Now, I present my favourites! And really, they were ALL favourites. Mmm, headcanony goodness.

Oh, special shoutout to this unattributed one, which I suspect fell prey to someone submitting early, but as phrased, made me snort laugh: “one of my longest held headcanons is that ami“

SAME, FRIEND

Anyway, If your answer is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

—

Q: Senshi headcanon time! Intrigue me, humour me, crush me, FEED ME.

* Michiru actually did have a guardian cat, once. It was silvery grey with dark blue eyes. It did not speak, but it was always there to provide support and comfort in a life which had little of either. The first time Michiru had a strong vision, which left her cold and senseless on the floor of her room, it was the small warmth from her cat that brought her back to the world of color and light and solidity. The cat was a friend and confidante in those early days, when Michiru was unsure if this experience was real or the beginnings of schizophrenia. The fact that her mother could see the cat, and regularly make comments about the uncleanliness of such creatures, was proof of Michiru's new reality. So when the cat entered the fray to distract a youma, saving Michiru, but being killed in the process, it became one more thing that the Moon had given her, only to steal away. Michiru promised herself to never rely on another again, or to allow the Moon to have her heart again. And she had done fairly well at this. Haruka, for all her charms, was a plaything, and not something to sacrifice herself for. But pausing outside the Marine Cathedral, Michiru found herself looking into dark blue eyes, so different, but so similar, and knew that she would do anything and everything in her power to keep from having to watch them close, again. -- @incorrecttact  [YOU ARE ALSO KILLING THESE QUESTIONS. This hit me right in the kokoro, and I welcomed its sweet sweet pain.]

~~

*  Mako teaches Hotaru, Chibiusa, and the Amazon Quartet to cook and bake as a bonding activity. Hotaru LOVES making cakes and decorating them. Chibiusa likes cooking with noodles and even making her own; it doesn’t sound special, but the food she makes is DELICIOUS. Ves, the red one, finds cooking easy, but doesn’t like it and so never does outside of being coaxed into it. Jun, the green one, finds baking easy, but also doesn’t like sweet things, which limits her repertoire. Cere, the pink one, has no natural talent, but she very much WANTS to be good at it, so she turns out to be the best cook of her Senshi group. Palla takes to neither, but she is very enthusiastic about eating their experiments.  --  Jules  [I am an absolute slut for Mako and moments with the kids, and including the Quartet was a brilliant stroke.]

~~

*  A Serenity is not supposed to be reborn. They are born, they live, they die, and they are done. They are not like the Senshi, whose souls reincarnate, carefully bound to Serenity blood. They are not supposed to be reborn, so when Queen Serenity sees everything fail and decides to send their souls to the future, the Senshi are easy. Serenity is not. In desperation, Serenity does something she would have never considered in any other circumstance: she ties Serenity's soul to the Senshi. What was once a one way tie, has now become an equal bond, and so everything changes.  -- @madegeeky  [Ooo, this is some lovely twists on my own reincarnation headcanons, while still keeping the “this is a mistake” flavour. IT TASTES GOOD.]

~~

*  How about more Rei whistle antics? You headcanon Usagi would use the whistle for every mundane thing and Rei would come. Usagi would do this at 2 AM in the morning too and Rei would still be woken up and still come even in pajamas if she need be because Usagi had a spooky nightmare or "Rei-chan I fell off my bed and now my face hurts". Knowing Rei whistle antics can be funny for us and maybe aggravating for Rei at times because "Usagi you blew the whistle because you fell off the bed?" what if we can make it a pinch sad? Like what if Rei can tell what sort of peril Usagi is in by the way she blows the whistle in tone? Like when it's a sad somewhat weaker whistle, even if it's just a tiny subtle tone, Rei can IMMEDIATELLY tell "USAGI IS SAD AND NEEDS ME" and she will RUSH over in 5 seconds like in her Rei way, she might even have the mind to bring snacks, cocoa and plush to hug for the comfort.  --  Mrs. Duckling  [HOW ABOUT INDEED. I hadn’t thought about the different ways the whistle can be blown and what it might say, what a wonderful addition. THANK YOU FOR CATERING DIRECTLY TO ME AND MY NEEDS]

~~

*  PGSM!Sailor Mars - [REDACTED] Oh. Right. You're not there yet. Awkward... Anime!Minako is a huge fan of romance manga, but for all the wrong reasons. She tried drawing doujinshi of crack ships before realizing that A) she's not really a writer and B) she's REALLY not an artist. She plans on using some of her rich idol singer money to commission really bizarre romance stories. The sort that make you go WTF?! Of course, step one is "become a rich and famous idol"... Meanwhile, Rei also buys the romance manga that Minako gets into, (partially so she'll shut up about it) but mainly just analyzes them for mood and the characters, and gets frustrated when they inevitably devolve into nothing but sappy kissing and mooning over each other. She's trying to see why Minako gets so obsessed, but doesn't want to flat out admit that she doesn't get it and have to ask. -- Peter "Pigeons!" Svensson  [I had nothing but fun with this, fantastic. ps: THANK YOU FOR THE PIGEONS NOMINATION]

~~

* If these four* Senshi were to meet you, I think they'd each also be meeting some of their best qualities: Usagi is love, and that love is infectious as HELL. Much like a certain blogger who has amassed an international following on the strength of her love for her favourite media, wouldn't you say? Ami is very impressed by your office set-up! But when she sees you re-enter the room with a sprightly little black cat riding on your shoulder, she knows she has discovered a kindred spirit. Where can Rei-chan possibly begin? From your passionately informed and encyclopedic knowledge of their interactions ("She has RECEIPTS, Usagi!"), to your, let's call it tenacity ("She stirred that sugar for TWO HOURS, Usagi!!"), Rei finds so much to admire. And while no one could ever possibly love Rei as much as she loves herself, she magnanimously allows that you are a close second. As for Haruka, well! World Shaking? More like Toilet Breaking! You wrecked that shit and unleashed the sea. She can certainly relate *eyebrows, eyebrows* *would that i had time to write out blurbs for the others! but we're heading back into lockdown today, and i need to get to the post office to mail you a package. PRIORITIES! xo  -- @rasiqra-revulva​  [Okay look when I said “crush me” I didn’t mean WITH NICENESS. Also thank you for the huge laughs. *eyebrows, eyebrows*]

~~

*  Minako manages to write a tell-all book (anonymously, of course, and with names changed to protect the relevant,) about their first few years as Senshi in the lull between Stars and Shit Escalating Again. Even more astoundingly, she manages to get it optioned as a film and play Sailor Mars without blowing her cover! Rei seethes. Minako’s annoyed because she tried out for Usagi. Usagi’s just happy Minako’s successful. The film manages to pick up nominations come award season, and Michiru even arranges for the rest of the Senshi to attend. Minako loses to some film from a really overrated director that manages to out-award bait her reenactment of D-Point. She’s silently fuming through his acceptance speech when he’s Burning Mandala’d mid-sentence. And that’s how the Senshi discovered that Jadeite survived getting run over with planes, joined the entertainment industry after Beryl’s defeat, and had been using it to drain energy ever since! Sailor Mars’s speech about how he disgraces the passion of filmmakers everywhere and her comrade’s hard work goes viral. -- Regalli  [LOVED THE TWIST ENDING, also Rei basically stealing the awards show stage, as we all know she would]

~~

*  Not Senshi, but cats! One day, when Usagi is queen, she's going to decide to knight the cats. Luna thinks it's silly and figures Usagi is just acting on a whim, but Artemis has his chest puffed out and is glowing with pride. They're given tiny medals made by Endymion. -- RibbonFinale  [Oh I DID want this. I wanted this very much, THANK YOU.]

~~

*  Makoto can't culture bonsai trees. It's not a matter of ability, or scale — she can work with tiny tools with equal facility as large ones — but she can't bring herself to push the things down, to cut and twist and bind them to grow the way _she_ wants, not the way it wants to grow.   The tiny pine she bought to try it out, years ago, is in a pot in the corner of her apartment; it's just now grown taller than she is. -- Taperwolf  [I didn’t expect this one to hit me as hard as it did when I started reading. Love it, love it, love it.]

~~

*  You know those 'meetings Usagi doesn't know about'? the ones where the girls dive into the nitty gritty about being senshi, the ones where they decide who will take up being the Disguise Pen Decoy if Minako is killed? Usagi knows about them. it was one of those 'character A eavesdrops and hears character B talking about them' setups, but instead of hearing Ami call Usagi a ditz, she hears Ami saying 'I'm the weakest fighter, if Minako is assassinated and we need someone to be decoy it'd be easier to explain away my absence than Rei's or Mako's' In these meetings they speak very coldly about themselves, Ami is always first to call herself the weak one, Minako calls into attention her showboating, Mako will openly remind people she doesn't think things through on the battlefield, and Rei derides herself on her inability to keep her cool (heh) and they all come up with contingencies to cover for eachother to the minutest detail. Usagi only ever evesdrops on one of these meetings, but now she knows they happen. and she can't un-know.  -- Vega  [OOOOOOOOOOOOOO.]

~~

Manga Sailor Pluto has picked her nose 2,013,417 times. -- too ashamed to say  [WHY THE SHAME THIS IS CORRECT  AND NOW RIGHTFULLY CANON]

---

I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.

[birdwonder]

Genos and Saitama | Your Heroes

|| whoo, another amazing request from @tishimaaa! honestly people, feel free to request stuff from me, it makes me so happy! i really hope you all enjoy this lil’ fic - the main plot was a struggle to come up with, but the request for a reader who liked taking photos was so cute and perfect. <3

[F/N] [L/N]. Full time journalist and sadly, only part time blogger.

As generic as your occupation sounded, your life could be the furthest thing from that. You were a young adult, living in Japan in an apartment with decent rent but little to no neighbours, which made perfect sense seeing as your surrounding area was a honeypot for swarms of monsters that were ready to kill and slaughter.

Now, as horrible as that sounded, it wasn’t all that bad! As a journalist, it gave you an easy and early access to juicy scoops that you could impress your boss and editor with; and it gave you a heap ton to talk about for your hero fan blog online. Not to forget - you weren’t living alone. To be specific, you had two other roommates living in the cramped apartment that had a generous amount of space for one person, but no room at all for three.

Well, you say roommates but more officially they were your boyfriends. Emphasis on the plural. It may be unconventional to have not one but two lovers, but after staying with the both of them for such a long time and all three of you developing mutual feelings, why just settle for one when everyone could be happy? Genos, or more popularly known as Demon Cyborg by the masses, and Saitama who was doomed with the title Caped Baldly, were the two that had captured your heart. Your perfect heroes. Which worked well considering the fact that you were a hero fanatic, and they were always out doing something incredible that you could add to your page. Well, Saitama did a lot less than Genos but when he did fight oooh boy. Was it amazing. 

It was seriously painful to know that Saitama got absolutely zero recognition for his heroic efforts, especially when he hasn’t lost a single battle to your knowledge! It’s the same routine really; a villain approaches, one hit and it’s over. ‘Caped Baldy’ really didn’t do him justice. He deserved a better name like ... The Punching Man! Or Single Punch. 

You should really just stick to writing about heroes instead of creating them.

Sometimes when you felt like your blog had gotten dry or you were in desperate need of material for your work, you would wait close by Genos so that you could be there when he was alerted of any ‘approaching life forms’ as he occasionally put it or monsters that were attacking the cities. 

Right now, your head was rested on his shoulder while you were sitting on the floor in front of a small TV, neither of you really paying attention to what was being said on the screen but it made for great white noise as the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s company. It would be even greater if Saitama was there too, arms wrapped around your waist or his head on your lap as he usually liked to laze about with you, unfortunately he was out buying groceries.

You sighed contently as Genos reached over to take a strand or two of your hair between his fingers, trying to get his sensors in his finger tips to pick up on the texture as he’s done so many times before. “It’s so soft...” He noted, focused so intently on your hair that it might as well been what was on TV instead of the weather report. 

“Thanks Genos,” you laughed, winking as you joked, “I make sure to keep it brushed and conditioned just for you.” As appreciated as his praise was, you were certain that no matter if your hair was straight, curly, long or short, he would probably have something nice to say about it.

“Don’t do it for me! You should be taking care of yourself on your own accord. I read somewhere that treating your body well and taking care of yourself can help keep your mood up by a large scale.” The cyborg began to ramble, listing off a number of ways that you could pamper yourself as though he was a walking self-care beauty kit ad. At least you knew that next time you went shopping, you had the OK to buy a face mask.

 As informative as it was, you lifted a finger to his lips to hush him, something you usually did when you wanted to keep him quiet. Or kiss him. That usually worked but then he wouldn’t speak for a good ten minutes. 

From there the two of you continue to sit in comfortable silence until you heard the sound of a door unlocking and opening, causing you to lift your head from Genos’ shoulder to see Saitama had returned, hands filled with bags which had increased since the time you and Genos officially moved it. Thankfully being a journalist and S-ranked hero helped cover the expenses.

“Sai, welcome back!” You greeted with a sweet voice that instantly put a small smile on the C-ranked hero’s face.

“Hey. See you two are comfortable.” Saitama then proceeded to start putting the products he had bought away, careful to not put something cold in the cabinet or rice in the fridge since he was trying to do it all quickly to join your cuddling session. How dare you two be lazy and snuggle up when he had to sort out 50 coupons at the check out to find at least one that wasn’t expired? Unforgivable. “Totally not like I was outside freezing my ass off or anything”

You snickered at his sarcastic comment and made a ‘come here’ gesture. “Well if you hurry up, you can join us, dummy.”

“Or you could help out? Better yet. I sit down and chill and you do all of this, and cook lunch. And make some dessert while you’re at it maybe.” Saitama retorted, huffing at his lack of assistance while you cheekily grinned and tapped your chin, as if deep in thought. 

“Hoooow about ... no.~”

Throwing his head back a little, Saitama groaned with annoyance even though he knew he wasn’t going to stay mad at you. “Maybe you want to help out, Genos?” He queried, raising a brow at the cyborg who had suddenly stood up, startling you from his unexpected move. Was he that excited to help sort out groceries?

“There’s something outside. No. Two beings are nearby.” 

Finally, some action! Your eyes sparkled with excitement, looking back and forth from Genos and Saitama with an expecting look, knowing that they'd have no choice but to go check it out. After all, no one came round here except for monsters, and they wouldn’t dare let you sleep in a dangerous environment. What sweethearts.

They gave each other a nod, both knowing what they had to do, before looking over at you. “Stay here, [F/N]. We’ll be back in a short bit, just put the food away for me, yeah?” Saitama asked, only needing to take a few steps to be standing in front of you and place a hand on your head. In return, you leant up to peck his cheek as a good luck charm, a thing you usually did when they were about to head out.

“Do your best out there, guys!” 

“We will do even better than that,” Genos corrected, mimicking Saitama by also patting your head. Guess he was trying to learn more from his sensei than just how to become a strong hero.

With that they were both gone and you were left in the apartment, standing in the middle of the square living room by your lonesome, but not for long! Turning on your heel, you rushed over to a corner of the room where you usually dumped your bag after work and rummaged inside looking for your camera. 

You cheered a small ‘yes’ once you grabbed it, rushing to the door to slip your shoes on and dash out the house and down the building’s stairs. It took a lot of frantic looking around to find out where they went but luckily they had moved to one street over, already battling it out.

Well, Saitama was just standing there talking or maybe debating with one of the monsters who looked like a mix of porcupine and a mole rat while Genos was going head to head with an identical looking being but slightly taller and stockier. Already a few seconds in and you had snapped a few shots of Genos landing hits on the monster.

 From the safety of just blatantly standing behind a brick wall’s corner, you continued to take more photos while the excitement of going home to upload them to your laptop was bubbling inside you. Obviously a few of the more up close and handsome would be saved for yourself . You may love sharing the amazing abilities of your lovers to the world but even you got a little jealous over fans looking at Genos too much. 

‘It’s not fair, why is he so perfect?’ You mentally complained, cursing the fact the cyborg looked so good while also being a badass fighter. Sadly for you, you got way too wrapped up in your thoughts and failed to noticed the looming figure behind you.

With no warning or even an idea with what’s to come, a large hand wrapped around your throat from behind, forcing a gasp and sickly choking sound to escape your throat.

“Lookie, lookie. A little lamb fresh for the slaughter house,” a gruff yet arrogant voice cooed, sending all the worst kinds of shivers down your spines. With a grip tight on your throat, it was hard to move your head, especially when the stranger’s hand seemed to cover the whole surface area of your neck. Yet you managed to tilt it just enough to see the face of your attacker.

A deep blue mole like muzzle sniffled disgustingly near your face, as if to take in your scent. Small, black squinting eyes seemed to be heavily focused on you and it was clear by his much larger porcupine quills and stature, that this guy was the superior of the two other beasts fighting Saitama and Genos. Damn, he must have been too far away at first for Genos to have detected him.

“Let...go!” It was hard to choke out the command and all of your energy was going into swinging your legs back and forth, and scratching at the hand holding you in hopes it hurt enough to make him release his grip on you. To no avail, his hand didn’t so much as loosen.

In the most mocking manner ever, the mole creature barked out in laughter and seemed to even tear up a little at your feeble attempt of escaping. “Don’t be stupid, little thing! As the Rodent King, I’m making it my mission to expand my empire by killing off every single one of you miserable humans,” he boasted, chest puffed out as though he was announcing the world’s greatest news. If you had the energy to, you’d roll your eyes. “From a burrow in the woods to the whole of the miserable planet, and then the world, I will claim all of this land and  my people and I will live long and fruitfully!”

Despite it being loud and obnoxious, the monologging rodent’s speech didn’t take your mind off the serious lack of oxygen you weren’t getting and your limbs began to go limp. The camera that was once in your hand clattered to the ground and shattered, the majority of it still being connected together with all the inner components sprung out and the lens had to have shattered; not that it mattered to a dead person. 

The loud clatter of the camera caught the Rodent King’s attention, and his looked down to spot what had fallen and yet he asked, “huh? What was that?” His nose sniffed a couple of times, trying to find the scent of what had fallen and then it struck you. He’s as blind as mole. This guy relied on scent to see! 

“No matter, it doesn’t matter now.” He shrugged, letting go of your neck, causing you to fall onto your knees and gasp for a desperate amount of air. ‘Oh sweet oxygen, don’t ever let me lose you again. I promise to walk more to work, I really do.’ 

Meekly, you looked up to see that your nightmare wasn’t over. The monster was now knelt down on one leg in front of you, one arm resting on his propped up knee and another was raised above your head, a large, clenched fist ready to crash down on your skull. “Like I said, you humans are destined to die by my hand! Now, any last words?”

Shit, shit. What to do? You weren’t ready to die, not like this. You hadn’t regained enough air to cry out for help, so all you had right now was yourself to save you. You and a ... busted camera! Patting around, you knew that the Rodent King wouldn’t notice your fidgeting so you quickly tried to search for it while still keeping eye contact with him, just so he didn’t grow suspicious.

“Yeah actually... Just three.” 

Got it!

You grabbed ahold of the largest chunk of the camera you could find, and pulled back your arm, smashing the once treasured device onto the villain’s face while simultaneously quickly standing up. “Eat shit, bitch!”

A pained cry came from the Rodent King, who slapped his previously raised hand over his face to cover where the camera had hit him. Just like you, he had quickly gotten up though you were already taking two steps away from him. Now, if you could just run away, you could head for the other two! Oh God, how you wanted to hold them. To feel safe and warm in their arms.

That desire crashed down like a burning plane however when you felt your arm be grabbed. The mole clearly was strong enough to recover quickly from the minor attack, and he looked furious, quills sticking up much higher than before. “You bitch! How dare you! Do you know who you are dealing with?!”

Before you could even make a clever comeback, or a pathetic cry for mercy, the hold on you suddenly became non existent when a blast had hit the head of the Rodent King, sending him flying back a couple of feet away. 

‘Huh? Wait, that could only mean,’ you cut off your own thoughts by swiftly turning around to see two figures standing in front of you, your boys. Oh, and did they look pissed. 

“I believe it is you who doesn’t know who they’re dealing with.” Genos harshly stated, a now closing canon whirring from within his hand as he glared at the now writhing in pain monster. Saitama looked just as deadly, his expression darkened and already he was stepping closer to the villain. 

“I’ll take this one Genos, just make sure that [F/N] isn’t hurt.”

With an accepting nod, Genos gently put an arm around you and pulled you close to his side, guiding you further away from the street for the sake of your wellbeing and your eyes not seeing what bloodshed would probably ensue. 

“[F/N], what were you doing there? Do you know how dangerous it is to follow us into battle?!” 

The scolding stung a little emotionally though his concerned expression and gentle hands lifting your chin to brush over any potential bruising on your neck made up for it, letting you know that it was just the stress of losing you that had gotten him so riled up. 

“I’m sorry, Genos. Really. I just,” you choked a little, tears threatening to spill but you wouldn’t let them, “I just love seeing you and Saitama fight, and I’m just so proud to have such incredible boyfriends- I guess I just wasn’t careful enough.”

The robotic hero sighed. He couldn’t understand why you would risk yourself for a couple of candid photos of him and his sensei, especially when you weren’t even close to being evenly matched against any hero or villain. Though it didn’t mean he wasn’t flattered, plus he also knew that heroes were a passion of your’s, something he wouldn’t dream of trying to change.

Brushing some of your hair from your face that had gotten loose and messy from the scuffle you had, he rested his forehead against your’s and let a beat of silence pass before speaking. “It’s fine, please do not let yourself cry over this. Just next time, give us a warning? We will maybe try and work something out if you are so insistent on getting photos of our fights.”

That made you smile a little. As stoic and harsh as Genos may seem, his heart was usually in the best of places, especially when it came to those he cared about. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so much. 

“Sure hon, though I doubt I’ll be taking any photos any time soon. I may have smashed my camera back here while I was being, y’know.” A weak chuckle left your lips, and Genos was about to say a few more words of comfort for your loss of a prized possession when a much calmer than before voice spoke up.

“No biggie, we can just buy you a new one, right?”

Turning around and smiling softly, the usual nonchalant expression of Saitama was as welcoming as a warm hug on a winter’s day. In his hand was a brown wallet, a few yen notes poking out of the pocket which gave the idea that a lot was inside. “Turns out even rat things carry about cash on them, and if I’m right this should cover for a new camera.”

Saitama placed a hand on your head like earlier, his eyes soft while glancing at you, something you responded to by pulling him into a tight hug and burying your face into the soft fabric of his hoodie. A much better thing to soak a few tears in than his flashy hero outfit, in your opinion. 

“Oh thank you so, so much. You guys really are my heroes.” You sniffled, pulling your face away from Saitama’s chest. “I love you boys so much!”

Of course, the two had to smile at that, both leaning down to plant a small kiss on a temple either side of your head. “We love you more,” Saitama chimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder while Genos opted for holding your hand loosely, which was usually out of his comfort zone in public areas. Luckily, it was only you three. 

“Now, I believe Sensei brought some food home, yes? Shall we go prepare some lunch?”

“Oh yeah! If you two could make some soba that’d be great.”

“Oh Sai...”

[red-talisman]

Prompts for US Election Season Safety-Planning & Engagement

I’ve got some folks in my DMs getting salty after my earlier response to a US election-based post, so here we are, tired and angry.

What is a safety-plan?

A personalized, practical plan to improve your safety. I list some basics here, but everyone has different needs as an individual - it’s okay if this isn’t as useful to you as it might be for someone else. Cherry-pick what’s useful and discard the rest.

Emotional Safety

Consider the safe coping skills you already use when you’re feeling activated, triggered, or panicking. If those techniques use external tools, like a weighted blanket, get those tools out and have them on hand.

Reach out to people you trust with specific actions they can do to support you, as appropriate.

Consider limiting your social media engagement for a day, a few days, a week - however long you need.

If you still want to know about important updates, ask someone you trust to provide those upon your request.

Reach out to people you trust who share your specific worries, especially around a shared identity. This can help us feel less isolated. For example, my girlfriend and I will be texting each other cute animals because we are very gay and very tired.

Draw firm boundaries with people (especially conservative relatives) as needed who may want more of your time or labor than you have capacity for. If you’re not sure how to do that safely, you can call a domestic violence hotline and ask the advocate to help you find/practice language to use; this is something we regularly do with callers.

Physical Safety

We’re already seeing violence against individuals and groups of people who visibly belong (or appear to visibly belong) to politically vulnerable communities at polls or street shutdowns initiated by Trump trains.

Stock up on food, medications, and other supplies as much as you can to limit the number of times you’ll need to leave the house.

Try to avoid going out alone. Can an adult in your household/quarantine pod go with you?

Consider checking out phone apps that will automatically text/call someone you trust if you miss a check-in window (often used by femmes going out on a new date or to a club).

Be prepared for road closures by hostile Trump supporters. Unless you have the skills/resources for it, don’t initiate engagement! Find another route, if possible.

Know your legal rights in case law enforcement starts shit. Check out some street protester tips on how to navigate getting arrested, such as having important phone numbers written in permanent marker on your body somewhere. As most politically vulnerable folks know, you don’t have to be breaking any kind of law to get stopped; you can, quite literally, be peacefully in line at the polls and get pepper-sprayed by cops anyway.

Dealing with Feeling Helpless

Start by taking honest stock of yourself about your needs in the current moment. You put the oxygen mask on your face first, after all.

Second? Don’t judge yourself for having those needs. It’s hard, but I promise you that almost everyone is feeling “weak,” depressed, angry, anxious, and sometimes all of that at once. Stay present-focused: “This is a need I’m having. What is available to me to get that need met as safely as possible?”

Look for other people doing the same kind of you’re doing - or the kind of work you want to do. Collective effort shares the burden.

Remember that your people have survived generations of violence. We will continue to do so.

Understand that election-related stress will last for at least a few months.

There’s likely to be an escalation in violence no matter which way the presidential election goes, and either way, the next inauguration isn’t until January 2021. You need to be prepared for the long haul.

When you feel ready to reengage:

Recognize that voting is the least thing that a person can do. With work aimed at systemic, intergenerational violence, we need all hands engaged in a variety of ways for the long-term.

Stop going after activists of color who choose not to vote. If you don’t have personal lived experience relevant to their reasoning, leave them alone.

Be creative in adapting skills, interests, and networks you already have. Everyone has something to offer! Although aimed in part at pagans, this article gives some ideas and points to consider for everyone.

If anyone tells you that you don’t have anything to offer in social justice efforts, they’re an asshole. (And probably a bigot, and it’s probably ableist. Fuck those people.) When we say all hands on deck, we mean all, regardless of the lived experiences attached to those hands.

Do you have emotional or physical safety concerns that aren’t mentioned here?

Ask someone you trust to help you brainstorm. What are the concrete worries you have, emotionally or physically? How can you address, eliminate, mitigate, or cope with those worries in whatever creative, safe ways you can? Make an actual list if that helps.

Consider contacting a domestic violence hotline. We’re trained to safety-plan with people who are in the kind of danger that doesn’t usually go away quickly and who have limited access to resources (although if an unhealthy partner or relative isn’t part of your concern, it’s possible the advocate may try referring you elsewhere).

Warm lines are a cool alternative to hotlines. Lots of local and national ones exist for different purposes.

Check out some leftist blogs: they tend to regularly post content about safety related to different scenarios, much of which is also tailored to the needs of specific demographics (being trans, Black, Jewish, disabled, etc). One solid resource on tumblr is @antifainternational​.

Check out blogs written by and for a particular demographic, even if you’re not part of that demographic. Writers, bloggers, and activists in these communities tend to have common lived experience of systemic violence and there is a lot of amazing, pragmatic content out there for coping under oppression.

Got questions? I’m happy to answer whatever I can via ask or DM, even if it’s to direct you to a resource more helpful than I.

[imtherealsebastiansatan]

The number of asks isn’t going down so I’m taking a break.

I’m going to address something.

Brace yourselves.

I try to avoid giving my opinion on issues. I also don’t like talking about myself (I made a personal blog for my whining).

But as some people have said - as bloggers, influencers, fanpages, we have a platform and we should use it. Now, let’s be real. I don’t have a big following. I have maybe 500 followers or around there. I do know that this blog is talked about so I’m going to say a few things. A lot of things.

I fully support the movement. Black lives DO matter.

Fully means any means necessary. I’m taking an online course and there was a bit about good communication. Good communication requires two people. One person needs to express their feelings and concerns the other person needs to acknowledge that. Between the two they need to come up with solutions. Black people have tried expressing their problems every which way. If they need to burn the world down to be heard, then let it burn. Now don’t go saying Kevin told you to burn a trash can. But I won’t sit here and tell people what to do when it’s about something I could never relate to.

I don’t know how I feel about ACAB. I think in a general sense, I disagree. I do question it though because is a good cop really a good cop if he sees his buddy murder someone and covers up for him? Food for thought.

I hate that Anti-Fa is going to be a “terrorist group”. I do think their methods can be extreme but is the message? You would think Americans would be against fascism. And if anti-fa is a terrorist group, when are all the white supremacy groups going to be declared terrorist groups?

On the topic of fascism: Donald Trump is a fascist. Prove me wrong.

Curfews to silence protests are bullshit.

The NYPD blocking Brooklyn protesters from making it to Manhattan is bullshit.

Snipers on rooftops are bullshit.

The micro aggressions from the cops are bullshit. (Destroying makeshift medical tents at protests. Pouring out milk so people can’t wash out the pepper spray. Pouring out bottles of water that people leave out for protesters). Serve and protect.

I know material things can be replaced. HOWEVER, I died when I saw rioters in DC burn a homeless person’s belongings. They can’t replace what they have.

All of this could be avoided if 1. cops showed solidarity 2. Trump condemned the actions of the cops and made an attempt to fix the system (it would have guaranteed his re-election as well, I think).

I’m angry that people are now going “awe but small businesses are being destroyed!”. Where were you when Asian-owned businesses had to close down because they were being threatened or boycotted because of the “Chinese virus”?

I think we should listen to black people and follow their lead. All minorities too. We’re back up. Let them run the show.

Don’t fall into the pressures of social media either. Think. Analyze. Do what you believe is right. You don’t HAVE to donate. You don’t HAVE to post the “blackout”. You don’t HAVE to go out and protest. There are a million ways to show solidarity. Ask.

[hsmakingmeblush]

I’m Lost In Your Fire

A Vampire Journalist Harry Fic

*Read Chapter One 

Chapter Two

Harry can’t help but let out a groan as he lets his body sink deep into the warm water filling his pearly white porcelain bathtub. It feels like a relief as the water sinks into his skin and envelops his sore muscles in warmth. He lets the soothing scent of lavender fill his nose and allows calm to overtake him as his bath bomb continues to fizz in the quiet of his bathroom.

Today hasn’t been the worst day he’s ever had, not by a longshot, but it’s been long and stressful. Putting up with pricks like Jimmy at the office all day and not being able to say anything can make the tension in his body skyrocket with holding back any reaction. And believe it or not, working on fluff pieces he could writing his sleep can actually be more draining than the hardest hitting journalism beats. There’s only so many times he can type out the words London Poodle Parade before wanting to break his computer himself.

But now that that piece is over, finally, he’s got to get down to the real business. Mr. Turner’s finally given him a story he can actually sink his teeth into… so to speak. It may not be the hard hitting stuff they write down in the political new section, but a profile feature actually gives him something to work with, real substance that’ll occupy his mind and give him something to research. Which is why he’s decided to take a nice long soothing bath to help ease him into the research process. Admittedly, it’s been awhile since he’s had to do anything this extensive.

So, Zoe Price, who are you?

He clicks his laptop on from where it was sitting asleep on his wooden bathtub tray along with his wine glass that was decidedly not red with wine.

He decides to start his search by typing her name into Google- the best way is oftentimes the simplest. He’s almost surprised when he sees the rest of her name pop up in his suggestions when he’s only typed “Zoe P” so far, but then he remembers that if this woman was truly a nobody he probably wouldn’t be writing a profile on her. He clicks down to her name and hits enter and the first thing his eyes are drawn to on the screen is the photo in the corner of a woman with warm eyes and dark hair. She’s not bad to look at, but he doesn’t let himself linger before he moves on to the rest of the webpage.

The first link up is for something called London Bites. Was she some kind of food blogger or something? Sharing recommendations for London’s hidden dining hotspots for tourists and residents alike can all enjoy the best of what the city had to offer? Hm, didn’t seem likely that he’d be assigned a profile on someone that… mundane.

He clicks the link, mentally reminding himself to go back and look through the twitter that had been listed just below on the search page.

At the top of the page is a a black and white photo of London with London Bites across the top in red cursive. Not exactly the vibe he would expect from a food blogger.

As he scrolls down, he sees yet another photo of who he presumes to be Zoe herself if the caption is to be believed.

Zoe Price.

24.

London, UK.

Political Science, B.A.

But in this one her hair is shorter, lighter, and any warmth Harry fleetingly thought she’d had minutes ago is nowhere to be found. She looks more severe in this photo, it’s to be expected when it’s clearly been professionally posed and shot for business purposes, but Harry can’t say he likes the way she looks in it all the same. Not that it matters what he thinks. He’s writing a piece on her and her work, not on… her looks or how friendly she may or may not be.

To the right of her photo is a little blurb that reads:

It can be hard keeping up with all the goings-on in London politics and current events. There’s politicians galore, people with opinions everywhere you turn, and vampires just around the corner. Join Zoe Price every Monday as she interviews guests, debates hot button issues, and provides you with your weekly dose of social and political insight. Whether you want to be a more educated citizen, you want to impress your friends with being up-to-date in all things politically relevant today, or you just like the sound of Zoe’s voice, this is the podcast for you.

Subscribe and listen to London Bites now on Apple Music, Spotify, or wherever else you like to stream podcasts.

Below that are little Twitter and Instagram icons which presumably link to Zoe’s own social media. A cursory scroll down also reveals the latest episode of London Bites available to listen, but Harry’s still thinking about her podcast description. “Vampires just around the corner.” He’s already getting the feeling that this piece isn’t going to be all that great of an opportunity as Mr. Turner suggested it would be. The churning in the pit of his stomach only worsens when his eyes focus on the title of her latest podcast episode just under the streaming widget.

Vampires: Friends or Foes

Vampires. Society loves to hate them. Are they really the filthy bloodsucking monsters politicians would have us believe? Probably. But join me as I share my own experiences with vamps and the stories my subscribers have shared. Who knows, maybe the results will surprise you.

It seems pretty obvious now, Zoe Price is no mundane food blogger. Instead she’s a… an antisanguinist? A sympathizer? Well, no definitely not a sympathizer if she says that vampires “probably” are all those vile things people say.

At this point Harry’s not altogether sure what to make of Zoe Price. And he’s not so sure he’s looking forward to figuring it out. Figuring her out.

He swallows down a big gulp of lukewarm blood before he clicks play and closes his eyes, allowing his body to sink deeper into the soothing lavender and chamomile oils that have mixed in with the warm water.

Hi everyone, welcome to London Bites! I’m your host Zoe and today we’ll be getting into what seems to be everyone’s favorite topic to discuss: Vampires. If you’ve been a subscriber for awhile you might remember our episode from a few weeks ago, The Londoners guide to dealing with vamps featuring guest Maggie Sinclair. If you’re new to the podcast don’t fret, you can go back and listen to self defense instructor Maggie Sinclair share all her tips and tricks for handling a vampire situation. I’ve received a lot of messages on social media since then letting me know how helpful you listeners found that episode, so as usual feel free to tell me what you want to hear and maybe it’ll make it into the podcast!

Now onto today’s business. I hope you have a snack and something to drink because today’s episode is gonna be a long one. There’s no guests today. Insert “boooo” sounds here (but not really because who has the budget and skill for that? Not me that’s for sure.

Harry’s ears prick up just the slightest bit at the laugh she lets out at her own self-deprecating joke, but otherwise he remains still and faintly tense as he waits to here what else Zoe has to say.

Today’s show is going to run a little differently than usual, but hey it’s always fun to spice things up once in awhile, right? Instead of a guest joining me, I decided to pose a question to my wonderful followers on Twitter and Instagram. What have your experiences with vampires been like? And bleeding heck you lot had many a story to share!

So without further ado I’ll get right into it. And if you’re asking yourself right now “when is Zoe going to share her own story?” well tha’s a good question and I’ll be sharing at the end so I guess you’ve got to listen to the whole episode to get to it. No one likes a podcast fast forwarder! At least I don’t.

Ah, our first story is from Amy right here in London and she said that she once saw a vampire help an old lady cross the street. Hm, well who’s t’say it even was a vampire. It’s London! The weather is absolute shite if the number of jackets I’ve got in my wardrobe is any indication. Who’s t’say it really was a vampire and not just a human whose mark was covered by his coat. I’ll just put that one down as a… maybe vampire experience.

Harry doesn’t know whether he should scoff at how very human it was for Zoe to bring up those damn marks or seethe at the notion that a vampire helping someone was impossible. Nonetheless, he finds himself rubbing the pad of his thumb over his own cross marking on the skin of his left hand, just as dark and inky black as the day he got it.

He must get lost in his thoughts, thinking back to how it felt to get the mark branded on— the excruciating, his tears as he looked over the doctor’s shoulder to find his mother’s eyes, her own solemn expression— because once Zoe’s voice floats back through his ears, she’s already in the middle of sharing someone else’s story.

We could just let the filthy leech stay in our town, Zoe, and living right by a school no less? Not on our watch. Me and a few of the guys got together and drove the bloodsucker right out. The best part was he didn’t even try to fight back! Can you believe how humiliating? If he wasn’t a disgusting monster I might’ve felt bad for the kid really, but ‘ey he got what he deserved.

Well listeners, what a harrowing account by Joshua in Liverpool. It just goes to show the lengths some vamps will go to concealing their identity and how we as citizens must be vigilant. It was great to hear that none of those children got hurt before Joshua and his friends were able to get rid of that vamp.

Harry’s breathing picks up at that, fast and loud in the quiet of his bathroom. His hands find the edges of his tub and his fingers curl over the porcelain in vice grips. That was- humans call them the monsters but when they do things like that… humans are the deluded monsters in this world.

And this, this Zoe Price. She’s just, well, it doesn’t seem like there’s a question about her being an anti now. The way she talks about vampires… pretending like she’s willing to give everyone a fair shake. Ha! Fat chance at that.

It’s then that he hears her say “it’s truly a godsend that those god forsaken leeches can’t procreate or else we’d truly have a mess on our hands trying to get not just adult vamps but their spawn too.”

He can’t slam his laptop closed fast enough. He wants to scream at all the anger bubbling up from inside his chest. These people, they don’t know anything! Harry’s disgusted at how Zoe’s voice curled around those words, how she said them as if she’s said them before. Most of all, Harry’s angry at the fact that hearing that sentiment isn’t new, far from it really. The fact this his whole life, he’s had to listen to human talk about how vamps shouldn’t have kids, how it was a good thing they couldn’t. Well, he only really started hearing the latter when he grew older, when people forgot, when he moved away from Manchester and nobody knew him or where he came from.

All the same, it makes him sick to hear and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do tomorrow when he’s supposed to call this woman and set up a meeting. He doesn’t know how he’ll stand being on the phone with her let alone seeing her in person.

To stop his thoughts from swirling around in his head, he lets his body sink down until he’s submerged in his bathwater. He lets the silence overtake him and feels his tense muscles relax and his limbs grow heavy. He thinks of his mother and how mad she used to get at him when he did this as a child. He thinks about how warm her body felt as she wrapped him up in a towel and held him close to her chest and whispered how much she loved him in his ear. He thinks about how much he misses her. How now there’s no one here to pull him out of the bath and dry him off. So he stays like that, in the dark and the silence until sleep overtakes him.

---

*This fic would definitely not be written if it wasn’t for the amazing Danie @angelinsheer so thanks binch! And if you’re enjoying this fic just know that Danie’s been a huge help at planning and holding my hand through the entire writing process 😂