#it's mostly a staycation but I wanna relax and not have to do stuff and asks are stuff :P

[ridiasfangirlings]

Public Service Announcement: I'm on vacation so asks are taking a momentary break. I've queued some old asks as usual, new asks will return in a week.

[infpsagittarius]

2022 Christmas holidays

I had a very fun and fruitful 13-day holidays for Christmas.

On the first day I met up with ex-colleagues from my last school. I felt that I really vibe with them way more than with my current colleagues. I'm the nice one in my current school group but already almost the meanest one in my last school group - they are all just soo kind! I love to be friends with them actually.

Then Dima and I went to a Christmas party - eastern European/ slavic based. People were mostly PHD students in Hong Kong and mostly come from Russia, Belarus, Kazakhstan etc. They were sooo quiet and reserved. I was so shocked about the vibe when we arrived at the dinner. Not just me, another girl who arrived way earlier and was involved in the cooking with them also felt the same. Just so shy, quiet and reserved, is that a PHD thing or a slavic thing? I met PHD students who were total party animals before so most likely a cultural thing.

Then on Christmas I went to the AR game centre to play an AR game with Dima and 3 other blockmates. It was fun and scary. Dima said he was totally distressed. I feel bad that he hadn't been able to relax even the interviews were already over.

Then we took a day to kinda organise and pack for our trip to Hanoi, Vietnam.

Then we spent 4 days there (the first day we only arrived and went to bed so it didn't count). I wouldn't say it was relaxing since the roads were always busy occupied with motorcycles and cars. We were alwasy anxious trying to walk. We kinda gave up and called a Grab even it would be an 8-minute walk from Google Maps. But, we did eat a lot of authentic Vietnamese food which I didn't see in Hong Kong. We did see three shows in four days, two of them were live music in bars and 1 was the traditional Vietnamese Puppet water show. We did visit a lot of museums and learnt a lot about the history. We were treated very nicely by the people in service industry too. So the trip was worth the time and money. I wouldn't say I would ever go back again since my style of vacation is to relax. The hustle and bustle just doesn't suit me. Also, I have learnt to be more grateful about how previledged I already am. People there are so poor. I kept asking myself, if I were born there, what would I do to break out of the poverty? It's easy when you have money since you're from another country looking at them, but think about if you were a local and born in poverty, how could you actually get out of that and climb up the social laddar?

It makes me feel that, Hongkongers, including me, are already so priviledged. We are so specific about so many things, like quality of food, quality of our staycation hotel rooms, environment that we are in etc. You might say, yea, but I work and I suffer in exchange of money to enjoy all that stuff, but hey, look at the locals in Vietnam, they work a lot and they suffer too but they are just surviving.

I was soo blue and down 2 days prior to going back to work. I really just don't wanna face all the hectic work and the upcoming class observations. Every day at school it's like go go go go go. Every day I live in a rush. Every day we need to attend meetings and be somewhat mentally abused by the boss. But think about the high salary you earn as a teacher here, think about how you don't need to be micromanaged by some disgusting people working in an office, think about the holidays you get, think about the future possibility to work part-time, think about how all your friends from the last school are going through the same observations. Pay your due and everything is temporary.

Being grateful is so important. We need to have gradtitude to lead a happy life. In fact, things in your life aren't guaranteed.

[iam93percentstardust]

This isn’t really a specific prompt but something with Steve and Tony being super intimate and soft with each other, where they go from Tony sitting on Steve’s lap to chat for hours to making out/sex to chatting again and just really enjoying each other’s company please 🤗

Okay, first of all, let me just tell you how much I love this prompt. I haven’t written my favorite soft boys in far too long and this was such a delight to work on. I’ve missed my darlings.

Secondly, I never really got to the chatting part but this is still so soft and sweet and I think you’ll really like it.

I’ve given up all hope for the read more so I’m tagging this as long post if you want to blacklist

Soft, My Love ~1.8k words Explicit sexual content On AO3 here

Never, in a million years, would Tony complain about waking up next to his husband but he will admit that it’s a surprise. Usually Tony wakes up while Steve is on his run. He would think that Steve had already finished his run and he just woke up late but when he checks the clock, he sees that it’s still early.

Steve is on his side, head propped up on his hand, smiling softly at him. The sun is coming through the windows behind him, lighting him up like an angel. Tony rolls his head so that his face is mostly buried in the pillow and only one eye is peeking out to look at his husband. 

“Aren’t you usually up by now?” he mumbles, not yet fully awake himself.

Steve leans over and kisses his shoulder. “I thought we might stay in today, take it easy. What do you say, Shellhead?”

Tony stretches and hums. “No going anywhere?”

“Not at all.”

“No meetings?”

“Already cleared your schedule with JARVIS and Pepper.”

“Just a lazy day inside?”

“Yep.”

“…What’s the occasion?”

Steve laughs, full-bodied, clutching at his chest. “Only you, sweetheart. Only you would be suspicious of a staycation.”

Tony can’t help but smile as well. “You really mean it?” he asks. “Just the two of us locked away up here?”

“Is that a yes?”

He pushes himself up, Steve sitting up as he does, and swings a leg over Steve’s. He loosely locks his hands around his husband’s neck and leans in to kiss him, gently, chastely because while Steve might not care about morning breath, Tony does. Steve cups his cheek before his hand slides down to rest gently at the back of his head. They rest there for a minute—or maybe forever, who’s counting?—before Tony pulls back.

He moves his right hand to cup Steve’s cheek, who turns and kisses his palm. God, he loves this man. “Staying inside sounds amazing.”

“In that case, how does breakfast sound?” Steve offers and Tony nods. “Eggs and turkey bacon?”

They go through their morning routine automatically, brushing teeth and putting on lounge clothes, moving around each other with an ease born from many years of practice.

Steve scoops him up once they’re done, Tony’s head laying against his shoulder, and carries him from the bedroom into the kitchen and sets him down on one of the stools at the island. Tony, still a little asleep, slumps down onto the countertop, resting his head against the cool quartz. He watches Steve putter around the kitchen, drifting in and out of a light doze until a cup of steaming coffee is put in front of him.

“There you go,” Steve says gently. “Coffee with your milk.”

Tony smiles at him gratefully. He knows it drives Steve crazy that Tony likes to add so much stuff to his coffee that it barely tastes like coffee anymore but hey, he drinks it because he needs the wakeup, not because it tastes good.

He sips at the cup as Steve finishes making breakfast and sits down across from him with two plates in his hand, sliding one across the table to Tony as he makes grabby hands. Tony catches his hand before it can fully pull away and they eat like that in companionable silence, fingers loosely interlocked.

“What’re you in the mood for today?” Steve asks as Tony clears the plates, rinses them, and puts them in the dishwasher. “Back to bed, out to the living room, something else?”

Tony half-wants to suggest back to bed, not for sex, but just to sleep a little longer. The hour is still early, they wouldn’t be wasting time by getting another nap in. But he thinks about the book Steve has been reading to him over the last couple of weeks and he suggests instead, “Will you read to me?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Steve teases. They settle in the living room, Steve in one of the armchairs with his feet resting on the footstool, Tony sitting between his legs, back pressed to Steve’s chest. Steve grabs the book from the table beside them as Tony gets comfortable.

“’And now of course you want to know what had happened to Edmund,’” Steve begins. Tony leans his head back against his husband’s shoulder and closes his eyes, relaxing into the story. Steve pauses and kisses his forehead. “’He had eaten his share of the dinner, but he hadn’t really enjoyed it because he was thinking all the time about Turkish Delight—and there’s nothing that spoils the taste of good ordinary food half so much as the memory of bad magic food.’ Hmm, reminds me of you and cheeseburgers.”

“Reader’s personal opinions are not necessary for reading,” Tony says archly. Steve chuckles and kisses him again. 

They get through four chapters, the words washing over Tony in a haze, before Steve finally says, “’Rise up, Sir Peter Wolf’s-Bane. And, whatever happens, never forget to wipe your sword,’” and closes the book.

Tony squirms, feeling a little numb in uncomfortable places now that he doesn’t have anything else to focus on. Steve coughs as something hard pokes Tony’s backside—and he bets he knows what it is. He squirms again, biting back a laugh as the something hard grows harder. He opens his eyes to see Steve’s own blue ones going dark and blown. Steve puts the book down and then puts his hands on Tony’s hips to still him.

“What?” Tony asks innocently. “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

“Don’t mess with me like that. That hasn’t worked in years.”

“I could take care of it for you.” Steve looks torn and Tony continues, “You wouldn’t have to do any work. I’d ride you.”

Steve still doesn’t look wholly convinced so Tony turns and straddles him, rising up on his knees to shimmy his sweatpants down off his hips. Automatically, Steve looks down before jerking his gaze up and settling on a point somewhere beyond Tony’s shoulder.

He laughs. “Steve, baby, we’ve been married for a year. You’re allowed to look without asking.”

“Don’t want to presume,” Steve mumbles.

Aww, that’s sweet of him. Tony kisses him, slowly, lazily, pouring all his love and affection into the kiss. One of Steve’s hands presses against his back to keep him steady, holding him as they kiss. The other one palms Tony’s ass, fingers sliding between his cheeks to press at where he’s still open and a little wet from last night. Tony breaks their kiss and leans to the side, scrabbling for the lube he knows they keep in the drawer in the table.

“You or me?” he asks and then decides that he doesn’t really care what Steve’s answer is, he just wants something in him, so he pours the lube over his own fingers and reaches behind himself. One finger feels amazing but two is even better and when they’re joined by one of Steve’s fingers, Tony moans out loud at how good it feels. He pulls his fingers out, lets Steve take over entirely as Steve pushes back in with three fingers now. Tony rocks back on Steve’s fingers, forward to rub his cock against his stomach, whining when he can feel Steve’s cock through his pants but doesn’t have the capacity to even think let alone push Steve’s pants off.

He’s stretched and open and buzzing like a live wire when Steve finally pulls his fingers out. He pants for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts enough to take care of the pesky pants problem. Steve just smiles fondly, lifts him with one hand, and pushes his own waistband down just enough to free his dick. When he lowers Tony back down, it’s onto his cock, sliding into him, spreading him—oh—so open.

They rock together, lazy, languorous, with slow rolls of their hips, in no rush to finish. They don’t get to do this often, this molasses-slow sort of sex. The life of one superhero is busy enough but two superheroes is even worse and that doesn’t even take into account Tony’s social obligations. Times like this—unhurried, slow, sweet—are few and far between, which makes this moment all the more precious.

“Steve,” he whispers. “Kiss me.”

And Steve does, kisses him slow and sweet and lingering until Tony feels like he’s drowning in it, drowning in Steve. He’s never come like this before, just from being kissed and loved and held, but he does now, feels sensation washing over him like the tide. He sighs into Steve’s mouth as he spills between them and Steve groans as he finds his own release. Steve holds him even closer as Tony relaxes into him, come smearing onto his stomach. They sit there for a long minute, breathing the same air, calming each other with soft kisses and gentle touches.

“Come on,” Tony says eventually, when the come on his stomach is starting to cool and itch, even though he wants nothing more than to keep laying there. “We need a shower.”

“Don’t wanna,” Steve grumbles. Tony smiles fondly at the pout between Steve’s eyes. He reaches up to smooth away the little furrow.

“I know but we’re gonna regret it if we don’t.”

Steve sighs but he stands still with his hold on Tony, slipping out of his body. Tony wraps his legs around Steve’s hips, letting him carry him. JARVIS has already started the shower by the time they reach the bathroom. The steam fills the room, warm and relaxing, and Tony inhales deeply, feeling his muscles unclench from the last little bit of tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding onto.

They wash each other, motions languid and sleepy. “You thinking about a nap after this?” Steve asks as he finishes rubbing shampoo into Tony’s hair. “Eyes closed.”

Tony obediently closes his eyes, feels Steve’s hand above his eyes, shielding him from the water he’s tilted back into. “Nap sounds good,” he admits. “What about you?”

“Thought I might draw some.”

“Mkay,” Tony says sleepily.

Somehow, he knows that they make it back to their bedroom and into their bed but if someone had asked him, he couldn’t have told them how. Steve sits down, back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. Tony, from his place next to him, glances between his pillow and Steve’s inviting lap. After a moment, he squirms over and tucks himself up against Steve’s side, resting his head on Steve’s lap.

“Am I in the way?” he asks, already half-asleep.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs.

He drifts off to the sound of the pencil scratching against paper and the feeling of Steve’s soothing fingers carding through his hair.