#sports sandals for men

[allthiings]

Buy blue Sandals For Men Online At Best Price In India | Impakto

[blackmensuited]

[aygofootwear01]

Walk with Confidence: Trending Casual Shoes for Women in 2024

Women’s casual shoes in 2024 meant cool and chic shoes that were comfortable to wear. These women’s footgear provide comfort and versatility with diverse designs for formal and informal everyday occasions.

Intending the purpose of fashion and comfort, one of the top-notch footwear manufacturers such as AYGO FOOTWEAR INDIA PRIVATE LIMITED provides the Best Stylish Casual Shoes For Women with the brand name Aygo Footwear. These casual shoes include sneakers, loafers, and slip-ons, perfect for leisure wear, chores, or low-intensity office jobs.

Offering comfort and convenience, these shoes allow the foot to stay untired and protected throughout long hours of wearing them and yet appear fashionable. They come in many designs and colors to amazingly suit any casual wear.

 So, they have become the new favorite shoe wear for women who want to look stylish while being comfortable. These casual shoes generate an attitude that does not decline with time.

Let’s analyze the best casual shoe fashion for the year 2024 that will give you the perfect step.

1. Chunky Sneakers

Chunky sneakers are popular this year because they have huge soles and are very comfortable to wear when you are walking. They also give a fashionable statement to any type of clothing. You can carry them for jeans, dresses or skirts, or any wear. Their plain or vibrant color are available in different ranges that allow you to go out with style.

2. Slip-On Loafers

Slip-on loafers are known for being comfortable and elegant. These shoes are comfortable to wear and can be for work on other occasions. They are available in numerous designs such as leather, fabric, and so on. When you looking for women's shoes, you can look fashionable and comfortable in loafers.

3. Retro Trainers

In 2024, retro trainers or old-school sneakers are in the biggest trends. These shoes come in simple designs and colors that make one individual unforgettable school day. These retro trainers are comfortable to wear on weekdays and may be combined with different clothes. Whether you are wearing jeans or a dress, these shoes will give you an elegant look with comfort.

4. Platform Espadrilles

Platform shoes particularly light canvas shoes especially find in the summer. These shoes have a thick sole. So you can wear them to go walking or to the beach and other outdoor fun. They add a little extra length so you are not always slouching, and make you feel your feet feel active and comfortable when you wear them. You can wear them, especially in a casual dress or shorts.

5. Athleisure Slides

Athleisure slide shoes are casual or athletic footwear. They provide matchless comfort, wearability, and stylish appearance. These shoes have smooth and cozy soles which are perfect for wearing all day. They can be worn with leggings, shorts, or casual pants.

Conclusion

The best stylish casual shoes for women trends list for the year 2024 proves you do not have to compromise fashion for comfort. You have lots of choices of fancy thick-soled shoes, slip-on shoes, or old-school running shoes. But you need to choose from trusted suppliers to make sure of the quality and comfort. As one of the leading shoe manufacturers, LANCER FOOTWEAR INDIA PRIVATE LIMITED provides you with a wide range of the best stylish casual shoes for women that allow you to go out walking without worrying about feet look or feel. These casual shoes are warm and stylish too.

[griffinborn]

Ok I get where everyone is coming from when they see the design of Pavitr ‘Pav’ Prabhakar aka Indian SpiderMan as an expression of gender queerness, but let me be frank this is very typical Indian male costuming.

Even the toxic masculine patriarchal men have similar stylistic expressions or to be be more precise this is a traditional/historical/ye olde male aesthetic.

Having said that I love what design elements are being used here. So…

Let's take it from the top.

The FACE MASK

The Three Colors surrounding the eyes are typical spider man colours but they are done to evoke the image the traditional makeup done for the ancient dance art Kathakali. In which the whole face is painted and bold lines are drawn to emphasise/exaggerate the eyes. These eye mask lines are usually thin - bold-thin.

Same with the white lines on the cheek bones which are indicative of tusks or pincers of demons or Animorphs in folklore/myths.

The white dot in the centre of the forehead is the most common Hindu motif, expressed in myriad of ways all over the country .

The ARM/LEG BANDS/CUFFS

The bicep cuff is a part of Indian historic armour - made of malleable metal, its bejewelled ornate counterparts were then worn in day to day life. Here in the north Royals still wear it during big ceremonies. These metal bands are generally worn by warriors.

bangles (metal circles worn at wrists) are an important male accessory and are more daily wear even in present modern times, some religions (Sikh,Jain etc.) require the males to always wear one at all times. The ones on the suit were more in the shape of wrist guards which again were an armour accessory. In Indian male clothing the cuffs are usually emphasised.

Due to traditional male footwear being sandals metal ankle cuffs were employed to guard the shins and were worn during wars while thinner bands - ornamental accessories - were worn in daily wear.

There are so many other things I want to elaborate on like: The PATTERNS/LOGO,The LEG GARMENT (??!)(what’s the collective term for clothes for legs?), The Cat’s Cradle swinging/body animation ; but my ADHD is already acting up so imma leave this here.

SIDE NOTE:

I love how the heel and toes are bare in this design. It makes sense from the spider powers perspective - no barrier in contact allows for better manoeuvring and jump control as is seen in gymnastics. But also because in Hindu culture important tasks including some traditional sports require the removal of footwear and getting feet dirty is not discouraged (of course with an adherence to washing of the feet multiple times in a day)

I also loved how incorporated his wrist guard is in his spider style using it as a toy and a tool. This aspect of making use of something in a completely different way was so desi ‘Jugaad’ I was stunned.

[footwearfootranger]

Shop Mod Comfys Shoes for Comfort and Style

The Mod Comfys have a sleek collection of relaxing and casual mod comfortable shoes at Footranger offering a wide range to select your favorite pair of shoes. These mod comfy ankle boots feature touch-fastening, lace-up ties, and slip-on designs with fascinating upper materials and designs.

[atrwriting]

games and other fun — rafe cameron x reader

HAPPY NYE FUCKERS HERES A TOXIC MAN THAT SHOULD DEFINITELY BE LEFT IN 2024 BUT NOT ON THIS BLOG HAHA

this is the hottest rafe scene and if you disagree i think ur silly

as always, warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, slapping, dom!rafe, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please for the love of god wrap it), talk of drugs

anyways… here’s games and other fun:

…

the summer you got hot was coincidentally the same summer you moved to the outerbanks.

the climate was hotter than back hot, but… so were the men.

you and your friends had moved for the new adventure, and thankfully you had found a job in your field pretty quickly. while your friends looked for jobs in their field, they acquired jobs at some of the restaurants, bars, and catering gigs in town.

that was how your best friend met topper.

when she first told you the story, the blush on her cheeks had never been brighter. him and his buddies had been out that night — at the bar she worked at. almost immediately, topper started flirting with her. she claims she played it cool, but from her giggling you can tell that she was excited to talk to him as he was to talk to her. you were so, so happy for her.

…until she mentioned how he had a friend.

“absolutely not,” you stated, shaking your head,

“why not?!” she demanded. “the friend said you were cute!”

you raised an eyebrow at her. “you showed him my picture?”

she nodded. “he was cute! i swear!”

you sighed. “what’s his name?”

“kelce.” a mischievous smile began to play at her lips. “him and topper want to meet us at a party their other friend is throwing this weekend.”

“did you meet that friend?” you asked. “do you think he’d be cool with us coming?”

she dismissed you with a playful wave of her hand. “rafe’s a kook. they wouldn’t be kooks if they didn’t show off their wealth to the whole island.”

you laughed. “okay, fine — i’ll go, but who the fuck names their kid rafe?”

only the richest man on the entire fucking island did, apparently.

you were excited to meet kelce, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to who exactly rafe cameron was. your friend didn’t meet him, neither of you looked him up, but then again — there was a double date to prepare for.

your best friend had gotten ready together after the work day. bikins under levi cutoff shorts, crop tops, and sandals were sported, but the main event was how somehow you both mastered the beachy blowout and natural makeup look in this humidity. once you were done, you both caught an uber and headed straight for the cameron residence.

it was fucking massive.

there was no other word.

and, honestly… it was like something out of project x.

strobe lights, music blasting, and loud laughter and screams. your best friend was more of the partier, so she didn’t look too phased — but you? you were fucking bright-eyed. you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and even if the date didn’t work out… at least there would be other things to occupy you.

once the uber had parked in front, you spotted a man waiting on the front stoop with his phone in his hands. your friend typed a quick text, hit sent, and through the window you watch the man on the front stoop smile.

place your bets now, you thought. that’s definitely topper.

and that he was.

when you both had met him on the front stoop, he engulfed your friend in a cute hug. afterwards, he extended a smile and his hand to you, and you shook his hand appreciatively.

a man that knew boundaries and manners… fuck yes, bestie.

he led you both inside and you had to stop your jaw from dropping. the party looked crazy from the outside, but nothing could compare to the absolute mayhem that was occurring inside. pong, lines being cut on a few tables, people jumping into the pool from the roof… you name it.

“this is awesome,” you spoke absentmindedly to no one in particular.

“i know,” topped laughed. “kelce’s around here somewhere... drinks?”

he led you both to the kitchen. if you were being honest, you knew that topper and your friend would hit it off pretty quickly and you didn’t want to cock-block them. you were hoping that kelce would find his way to you so you both could have your own fun, and leave your friends to their own devices.

…that was until topper started trying to call kelce over. topper, a bit drunk at this point, didn’t really get the memo from his friend that was turned around, basically back into the corner… that kelce did not want to be disturbed. in fact, when kelce finally got the message, he ripped away from whatever had caught his attention, and turned towards topper’s voice angrily. when he turned away… there was a petite woman pushed into the corner. she seemed very pissed off that kelce had broken their kiss.

who could blame her? he was hot.

no one could blame you for being a little upset, but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.

topper was at a loss for words. you almost felt bad.

letting the liquor provide comic relief, you spoke, “she’s hot. can’t blame him.”

topper laughed and then stuttered, trying to find the words to fight the embarrassment of the situation. even drunk, his manners were impeccable. his and your friend’s eyes revealed a mixture of guilty and sympathy, and you couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable it made you feel. your first instinct was to pretend it didn’t bother you… and if other people ignored your pain, you could too. it gnawed at you in the back of your throat — a rock lodged in your esophagus. your voice was tight, your cheeks were hot, and frustrated and embarrassed tears were pickling at your eyes.

“guys, don’t worry about it,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “top, where’s the bathroom?”

maybe you couldn’t save yourself from embarrassment, but you could save them from secondhand embarrassment. once he directed you, you gave them both a smile and set off.

if you were being honest… it did hurt that had happened. it was fucking embarrassing. nothing horrible, but combined with having drank in a while, and you were already tipsy? you were feeling emotional, and that wasn’t a good luck. you needed a few minutes in the bathroom to cool off.

you texted your friend that you were going to find the pool after and that she shouldn’t wait up for you — you wanted her to have fun with topper.

you were barely in the bathroom for a few minutes when you heard banging on the door.

“hurry up!” a gruff voice from the other side of the door called.

you shut the water off and brushed away the loose tear. your eyes were red, and your face was a bit puffy, but you figured you’d be fine. you’d probably never see the guy on the other side of the door anyway.

as you opened the door, he went to bang on it again. with his weight forward, he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while you were still in it.

“sorry, dude, uh —“ he rasped, standing before you and staring awkwardly down at you.

“you’re good…” you spoke, before trying to brush past him.

he caught your upper arm.

“woah, dude,” you laughed hesitantly, trying to step away from him. “i’m leaving, don’t worry.”

“sorry —“ he let go of your arm, still peering down at you. “you’re crying.”

“what? no,” you faked a laugh. “heat got to me s’all. needed some air.”

he eyed you. “never seen you before. not from around here?”

“no,” you shook your head. “my friend and i were invited.”

“by who?” he asked, raising a brow.

you took a step back, not particularly enjoying the third degree in a small space. “this guy she likes… topper.”

his eyes widened, almost in realization. “yeah, yeah… he told me about that. said there was another girl… for kelce.”

you laughed, but with a slight scoff in your voice. “he’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. with someone else. i was going to go play pong after i… saw.”

“knew he had a pretty girl coming, and did that? guy’s a dick.”

you laughed, and shook your head — brushing off his comment. “‘m sure he’s fine. i don’t know who his friends are — not really in the mood to talk shit about someone i don’t know.”

“sweetheart, he’s one of my best friends — guy’s a dick.”

a smile played at your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the man. “and who are you?”

“the owner of this house,” he replied. “i’m rafe.”

you smiled, and introduced yourself as well. “i’ll, um — leave you to it, then. see you around.”

you turned to leave, when you heard him say your name. while peering down at you, he spoke, “nah… let’s mess with him.”

you shouldn’t have been excited… but you couldn’t deny that you were.

rafe led you back into the kitchen and you smiled at your friend. topper turned to look at you, and his eyes immediately perked up when he saw rafe walking directly behind you.

you greeted them both, but barely before rafe had picked you up by the hips and placed you on the counter next to your friend. you bit back a squeal at the motion, but rafe had leaned against your side as he cracked a beer.

topper turned to you. “i don’t know how you found him, or how you got him out of the woodwork… but the man barely comes to his own parties. nice job.”

you laughed, and let topper and your friend continue their fun.

“so…” you began, turning to rafe. “if you don’t come to your own parties, how do you have fun at things like this?”

a smirk played at the corner of his lips. “they’ve been kind of boring for me, lately, i don’t know… i’m usually in the corner somewhere, smoking.”

sarcastically, with a grin, you asked, “are you telling me i can’t convince you to be my pong partner?”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you could convince me to do a shot with you.”

mischief danced in your eyes. rafe was quick to notice, and the look in his eyes matched yours.

he immediately went for glasses and liquor.

“and you got him to lay off the snow?” asked topper, mouth wide. he looked back to your best friend, grinning. “you’re both coming to the next one.”

rafe poured four shots and handed them off to topper and your best friend. they smiled and laughed to themselves before linking arms, and taking their shots.

“i like to take mine a different way,” rafe rasped, eyes peering down at your lips. “especially since my boy kelce has been staring us down since i put you on this counter.”

a smirk was beginning to form on your lips. in a sultry voice, you asked, “are you suggesting we give your friend a show, rafe?”

you stared into his piercing eyes before he spoke. his lips were parted, and he almost looked hungry. the heat was getting to the both of you making a shiny sheen of sweat glow because of the strobe lights. his eyes were focused on you, and really on you. it threw you off how rafe could have so many things going on around him, barely knowing you — and you were the apple of his eye. the next words rolled off his tongue like sugar, “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting, sweetheart.”

your teeth sank into your bottom lip as a blush rose across your cheeks. with a boldness you were a stranger to, you lifted your shirt above your head to reveal your string black bikini that barely hid your chest.

you figured rafe was lying about kelce — but that was until you saw him and the girl separate, and were now closer to where you and rafe stood. kelce had thrown a few glances your way every now and then, but now? now he was blatantly ignoring the girl next to him as he stared at your rack and rafe.

you threw back your shot, bending your chest towards rafe. you looked back to him with a smile on your face, and plucked his shot from his hands. holding your beasts together and placing the glass in your cleavage, you threw him a wink. rafe’s gaze darkened — and you knew you were in for it.

rafe rested a hand on your waist before he dipped his head lower. his lips wrapped around the circumference of the glass, and threw his head back with ease. your eyes drifted downwards to his broad shoulders, the thickness of his neck, and the muscles in his arms….

oh… you were in for it, alright.

before you knew it, rafe placed his glass down and connected his lips with yours. a whine of surprise rose and died in your throat after rafe placed both of his large hands on the warm skin of your waist. you held rafe’s strong jaw in both of your hands as you kissed him back, letting your tongue dance at his bottom lip.

“you’ve been too sweet to me tonight,” you whispered against his lips. “when are you going to let me be sweet to you?”

“fuck…” he rasped, stealing another kiss. “as soon as i know kelce knows what he missed out on.”

you laughed. “he’s been staring, rafe, come on…”

rafe had wrapped his arms under your ass and hoisted you against his chest. your hair cascaded down around you both, shielding the rest of the party goers for how your lips couldn’t leave his.

“if my dick wasn’t so hard right now — i’d shove it in his face more,” rafe spat. “teach that prick a lesson about how he should treat a beautiful woman.”

you giggled against his lips. “another time — please, rafe. i need you.”

a deep growl went off in his chest, and he let you swallow it whole. rafe kissed you once more before he swung you over his shoulder, one hand firmly planted on your ass to keep you steady, and began walking towards the upstairs.

laughing, you raised your heard to wave goodbye to topper and your best friend — who were laughing and happy for you as they waved back.

with each step towards an empty room, you giggled at rafe as he was cursing at people who got in his way. he kicked a couple of people out of the room before he let you fall onto your back on the bed. your giggles died within you as he began to crawl over you.

“what if i wanted to ride you, baby?” you whispered, running a thumb along his cheek as you bit your lip.

he kissed the inside of your hand as his eyes never left yours. “no, sweetheart — never had such a sexy woman below me. i’m taking my fuckin’ time.”

“taking your time?” you asked. “you’re the host of the party.”

“fuck ‘em,” he spat, capturing your lips once more.

rafe’s movements were much more dominant than in the kitchen. the privacy of the four walls and closed door allowed him to cage your body in and wedge the front of his hips against yours. you hooked your ankles behind his lower back, pulling him into you with a grinding motion. little whimpers left your lips as the friction from your jeans hit your clit in the perfect motion, making you shiver in rafe’s arms.

“want those pants off, daddy,” you rasped. “don’t make me wait.”

“call me that again and i’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart,” he spoke, his hands immediately darting for his belt buckle.

you tore off your and rafe’s pants and rafe made quick work of taking that skimpy bikini off your breasts.

“i almost told you no when you asked to go upstairs,” he spoke, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach. “i wanted to make kelce so fucking jealous…” the palms of rafe’s hands rested on the swell of your breasts, thumbs drawing circles on your nipples. “wanted him to realize that the chick next to him had nothin’ on you… that i was the one to have you… wanted to see the realization in his eyes….” his thumbs and pointer fingers began rolling your sensitive buds in between each other, drawing sharp breaths from between your lips. “but i think you were right, sweetheart. don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”

“yours?” you let the pads of your fingertips slide down the length of his chest and stomach. you kept your eyes locked on his, provoking him. “no man’s ever been able to make me cum before. what makes you think you’re different?”

he raised an eyebrow, darkness covering his irises. he was silent for a moment, studying you. you kept your baiting look on your face, but inside you grew worried.

rafe’s hand held your jaw in his, thumb prodding at your plump bottom lip. “gonna be a brat for me, that it?”

you shouldn’t have — but you did anyway. “and what’re you gonna do about it?”

an evil smile crept up on rafe’s perfect face. he let go of your chin and got off of you. you were curious as to what his goal was, but that was until he got himself between your legs. you laid back against the bed, and when you looked up — you realized there was a mirror on the ceiling.

you gasped at the sight. your hair was as crazy as your skin was flush. your eyes were as wild as rafe’s, and he stared back at you with darkness and lust all wrapped into one.

“you see that, sweetheart?” he asked, staring back at you. “sight that almost made me take you right there in the kitchen. you gonna be good for daddy, and let me show you how i’m better than all of those little boys?”

your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your cheeks blushed. “yes, daddy, please.”

“so polite,” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. a whine brews in your throat at the affection. “open your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”

on command, you parted your legs for him. rafe slid one large hand down from your knee to the beginning of your tanned thigh. you watch as his hand cups your mound, and you shiver at the feeling.

“oh… just so soft for me…”

his voice was like caramel as it rolled of his tongue. smooth and sweet. he looked at your pussy like he fucking adored it, there was no other way to put it. when his head finally dipped and his tongue nudged itself at your clit, you leaned your head back against the pillows.

“you like to hide, huh?” he spoke, eyes wide at you as his tongue dripped in between your folds. “not tonight, darlin’. you’re watching me.”

you lifted your head up and watched as his tongue slid into your entrance, and rafe began to nudge your clit with his nose. you gasped at the feeling — completely unaware that was even a thing someone could do, let alone be good at.

“fuck…” you quietly gasped, folding your lips over each other.

rafe replaced his tongue with two fingers — sliding them in and out and curling at the top. a low hum began to build as you fought to keep your eyes on him. the hum was deep and warm, filling your rib cage. you didn’t want to scream, afraid of being too loud or too much for rafe… but keeping your eyes open was enough of a fight. when his perfect, plump lips made contact with your clit… you couldn’t help it. you let out a loud sigh as your vision began to glaze over.

“i wanna do everything i can to this pussy,” rafe bit, sucking at your clit. “smack it, lick it, fuck it, anything i want… just so warm and sweet.”

“…fuck…” while only one word, your voice had never broken so much. rafe’s words were so sensual and mind numbing it was hard not to lose yourself in the moment, free to completely enjoy the sight and feeling of one of the hottest men you had ever seen put you on a pedestal and fucking worship you. his tongue, velvet, was working its way around your clit like it wanted your thighs to clench and wrap around his head. “i’m so close, rafe…”

“that’s it, baby, yeah.” the slurping sounds from below you were pornographic. your hips were jutting up and down to meet his lips and fingers as he plunged inside of you. your hands had found the sides of his head, sad there wasn’t any hair to hold back. “you wanted to be a brat before, now what? blame all of those little boys? now look at you — too fucked out to care. dirty fuckin’ girl.”

he was right. your boldness had left you with your sanity. the low hum had now spread throughout your body until it was everywhere. a soft, quiet vibration could be felt in every one of your limbs until you sure you were shaking. a cocky bastard like rafe — you should’ve wanted to deny him your orgasm, the metaphorical trophy. however, every fiber in your being was telling you he deserved it. his tongue, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his eyes — they wanted you to finish all over his face, and they deserved it. every last drop. every bit of it. every. fucking. bit.

“you scared, baby? don’t get shy on me now.” he had now raised his face where now only his hand was on your pussy. with a concerned, focused look on his face, he dipped two fingers into your entrance as his rough palm was working your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

you shut your eyes for a little longer than you should’ve, but opened them back up for tears to collect in the corners of your eyes. the approach of an orgasm was like a current in water, sucking you under. there was no fight and there was no giving in. it was heavy, fast, and hard — drowning where you head had no chance of staying above water. your body was being pulled every which way as your brain fought to remain present, in control. through your glazed over eyes, you could see rafe smirk.

“oh — i don’t think my girl’s listening to me, is she?” his taunting voice was sending you up a wall. the rat bastard — making you feel so good and then demanding that you respond as if your mind wasn’t mush. he moved himself so he was now hovering over your body, balanced on one arm. “i know you can hear me. come on, baby — you wanna cry? do it. fuckin’ cry for me, darlin’.”

you weren’t sure why you needed permission — but something in your insecurity snapped that allowed you to let out one singular strangled moan in your sand paper throat. it was whiny, and soft, and most of all — fucking pathetic. you could see in rafe’s eyes he loved it.

“been so good for me, letting me play with you,” he whispered against your lips as he continued with his hand. “seeing this little body give in — wanna see how far i can go. can’t wait to split you on my cock.”

“let me cum on your cock, rafe, please…” you spoke through your tears. “need it so badly. please let me…”

“can’t cum without a cock inside of you?” he asked, immediately sitting up and undoing his pants. “finally allowed yourself to be a whore and ask for what you want… lettin’ me use that pussy…”

you were nodding furiously, tugging at him to come lay on top of you once more. he batted your hands away, confusing you.

“nah, lay back,” he spoke. “…because i know you want me to use that pussy, don’t you?”

“yes, yes,” you cried, voice breaking. “just want you to use me — fuck, please, rafe…”

there was that smirk again — before he dove in.

rafe had pushed your legs against your chest and held you there as his cock slid easily inside you. since you were denied a very close orgasm — your pussy had never been wetter. it was like your slick was causing him to slide further and further inside so he could be buried in there. with every thrust, your pussy tightened around him — and rafe let you know.

you stared up at the mirror on the ceiling as you watched rafe’s muscles flex. his shoulders and back — holding you down, making you take every thrust. watching his glutes tighten and release with every thrust sent shivers up and down your spine. however, nothing, not one single thing, could compare to the way rafe’s arms flexed around your head and body — holding you in place.

“fucking love your cock, daddy,” you whimpered in his ear. “so, so deep. feels so good it hurts.”

he groaned against your ear, straining to fight against the pleasure. his thrusts began to pick up strength and speed, refusing to give in before you do.

“can tell it hurts, baby — pussy sucking me in like she’s never cum before,” he gasped, his own voice threatening to break. “just needed someone that knew how to work you, huh? give you what you needed? fuck you like the slut you are?”

you dug your face into the crook of his neck, feeling lost in his words and embrace. “slut for your cock, daddy — fuck, just like that. just like that — right there!”

one of his hands reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, and yanked you back. with parted lips and gritted teeth, rafe forced himself against your throat and began to suck on the soft skin. the strain of the position took away what last bit of control you had. you were completely at rafe’s mercy — and you didn’t mind. the head of his cock was pounding against that spot inside of you. your brain and the lower half of your body were working in tandem — acting like they had never had an orgasm before, but that wasn’t the case. no — they had just never had an orgasm like this before. the kind where you are completely out of control, unable to get it back, and under the hands of a man who took such good care of you. maybe you should’ve been scared because you barely knew him, but you weren’t. he wanted your orgasm as much as you did — and you let your naivety get the best of you.

“never wanted to breed a pussy so fuckin’ badly,” he spat against the skin of your throat. “she wants my cum so badly, doesn’t she? sucking me in — what else?”

incoherent. that’s all you were. rafe’s hips smacking against yours, cock hitting just right — there was nothing that allowed you to stay present and sensible in that situation. you were all his, under his control.

“be mean,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “be mean to me — and i’ll cum. fucking christ — please.”

“pussy like this, dirty as you are —“ he spoke, trying to fight his own orgasm. “no one should touch you but me. i own this pussy. me. no one can fuck you like me, that right?”

it was like music to your ears. your pussy was being split open and fucked raw — so dirty, so naughty, so wrong. yet, you were both grasping onto each other like there’s was nothing else in the world. rafe was working his cock into your pussy like your orgasm was his, and his alone. he —

he got tired of waiting for a response. he lightly smacked your cheek, and wrapped a hand around your throat.

you couldn’t be surprised — because your pussy only got wetter.

“you’re gonna fucking cum for me,” he spat against your eyes. “that’s mine. all mine.”

you caught a glance of what you looked like in the mirror above — a mess. a fucking mess. your face was covered in sweat, spit, and tears. your hair was everywhere, just like there was a flush all over your body. you saw the way rafe’s veins in his neck and forehead tightened and protruded as he spat dirty words against the side of your face.

“give it to me,” he spat through gritted teeth.

your eyes couldn’t leave the mirror. it shoved you farther and farther into your trance that you couldn’t look away. couldn’t move. couldn’t think about anything else.

“it’s yours, it’s yours…” you cried, throwing your head back.

your hands immediately came up to dig your nails into his back. your back, arched, pushed your tits into rafe’s face. his face, in awe, couldn’t help but suck a nipple into his mouth as he watched your body fucking shake. there was no more low vibration — your body, every limb, had fully succumbed to shaking and crying.

“pussy so tight,” he gasped. “fuck, fuck, fuck…”

through the mirror, you watch both of your orgasms hit you at the exact same time. with one snap of rafe’s hips, the muscles of his ass tightened where his pelvis locked with yours. his back and shoulder muscles went taut, rippling with the bout of adrenaline running through his veins. with rafe’s body holding yours down, he stopped your body from spasming. your skin was prickly to the touch as your blood was pumping, pumping, pumping. the walls of your pussy squeezed around his cock as strangled gasps pushed past your lips, and were swallowed by rafe.

against your lips, he whispered, “never letting you go now, princess.”

you giggled softly, shivering. “is that so?”

“yeah,” he mumbled, kissing you. “you’re fucked.”

- - -

happy nye here’s some smut HAHA love yall

-L xoxox

[swordsandholly]

Steel Magnolia

Part 1 - paused

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature/MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.

Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.

“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.

“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”

“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”

“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.

“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.

The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.

Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.

You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.

Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…

Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.

You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.

The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-

The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”

You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.

“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”

That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”

He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.

Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.

“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”

He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”

“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.

“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.

“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.

“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.

Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”

“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”

“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’

You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”

“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.

A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”

As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.

*Kyle and Simon,* you think.

You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.

Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”

“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”

“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.

“They’re from the UK.” You offer.

“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”

“Yep.” You grin.

Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”

“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.

She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”

The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.

You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.

You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”

She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”

You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.

“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.

“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.

“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”

You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.

As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.

“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.

“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.

Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”

You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”

The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”

You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.

You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.

“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.

“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”

“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”

You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”

“Nooo!” She pouts.

“Then no Bluey.”

Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.

Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.

You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.

[allthiings]

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[serpentface]

19 year old Brakul between bouts at a kickboxing tournament, moping because he got hit in the face (which is a foul!!) and also is getting his ass kicked in general.

He is Bict Urbinnas (literally 'North Erubin Valley Folk') in origin, one of many peoples in the montane regions claimed as northern Wardin collectively referred to as the 'Hill Tribes'. The region has produced multiple homegrown martial arts and wrestling forms as a derivative of local warrior cultures, chiefmost of which are khait wrestling (where mounted combatants attempt to knock their opponents to the ground and gain control of their khait) and a form of kickboxing, shown here.

The particular variant discussed here is unique to the Erubin River peoples, where the sport is of particular significance. All men are expected to participate in at least one tournament upon reaching adulthood. Tournaments are held on a yearly basis, for pure sport, glory, bragging rights, and often as an outlet to diffuse tensions via mock combat (cattle raiding is ubiquitous in this particular region even between allied clans, and these martial sports are acknowledged as a nonlethal means of settling the score).

Boxers score points based on landing blows (both punches and kicks) and knocking their opponents to the ground. Attacks to the face, grappling, and striking a downed opponent are prohibited.

Outfit notes:

-Light padding may be worn over the upper body during practice, but nothing is worn during actual tournaments. Accumulated bruises are part of the spectacle.

-Padded greaves are worn over short trousers. These greaves are a component of armor worn by mounted warriors in the region and signal the martial nature of this sport. The ones worn in sport are lighter and mostly decorative in nature.

-Kickboxing is done barefoot. Sandals are merely being worn between bouts.

-Bandanas mark fighters and keep sweat out of their eyes.

-The loin piece supports a leather cup hidden underneath to protect the groin.

-The belt and khaitsmane skirt is the centerpoint of the outfit. Young men are given such a belt upon reaching adulthood, usually made and decorated by their mothers. The mane is attached to the belt and emphasizes the movements of the fighter, drawing attention to graceful kicks and dodges.

-Fighters braid a section of their skirt for every ten matches won, and winners of tournaments are awarded small bronze bells that are tied into the ends of the braids. Master kickboxers are distinguished by skirts with many strands of braids that jingle with every move. Brakul has not had any such accomplishments.

[footwearfootranger]

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[pancakesnake-exe]

224 FACTS ABOUT

The Stig

It is The Stig

It was originally going to be called “The Gimp”, but was renamed The Stig, which means having a bad fashion sense while being born poor

“We don't know its name, we really don't know its name, nobody knows its name, and we don't want to know, because it's a racing driver.”

The Stig wears its helmet on set and most cast members don’t know who it is.

The Stig does not know who it is because they wiped its memory when it got the job.

It is the Pope.

There is only one The Stig.

The Stig used to work in Rome[as the pope], but gave up its job to be able to keep up with its work here

It has no face

It is terrified of scouts

The drinks cabinet in its car contains 14 different types of custard

Its favourite T-shirt has a picture of a T-shirt

It is afraid of bells

It is confused by stairs

It never blinks

The Stig is kept in the cupboard when not in use

It naturally faces magnetic north

It has a digital face

The Stig has an evil twin named Black Stig who died after driving off an aircraft carrier but came back to life https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Lkh0uWFg9c

It will charge you if you attempt to remove its helmet

Its nipples are explosive

It paid a $25,000 expenses claim for some gravel for his moat

The Stig has three legs

The Stig once dreamt for a whole week straight about what Rubens Barrichello would look like in a ham slicer

The Stig is banned from the town of Chichester

The Stig is the reincarnation of Jesus Christ

The Stig bought a slightly dented white Fiat Uno from the Duke of Edinburgh

If you hold it in the wrong way, it doesn't work properly

It is 47% horse

It has 17 children due to faulty condoms

The Stig has a special pissing technique that causes floods

It once punched a horse to the ground

It has Mansell Syndrome

The Stig runs on diesel

It has a very small brain

It “has no understanding of the concept of money”

The Stig’s credit card says “The Stig” and is issued by The Bank of Money

The Stig’s favorite genres of music are: Morse code, whale songs, baroque music, advertising jingles, country & western music, sales techniques, foreign language learning tapes, ABBA but French, speeches of Margaret Thatcher, Elton John, pipe bands, vuvuzelas, national anthems, Tuvan throat singing, self help audiotapes, and “an annoying ringing sound”

The Stig has to receive awards in its left hand, as its right one is magnetic

The Stig has decided all northerners are edible

It’s mission statement is to "just go out there and drive fast"

The Stig’s opinion is worthless

The Stig has died multiple times, but the Grim Reaper is too afraid to tell it.

The extent of The Stig’s knowledge outside racing is two facts about ducks

Both facts are wrong

The three others once reenacted the journey of the three wise men, and at the end, the manger held a baby The Stig.

The next episode a month later, it was fully grown. Due to “Stigs grow very quickly, and the new The Stig was thus already fully grown.”

Stigs must be transported in delivery crates

The Stig has a fatter American cousin called Big Stig, who is a more relaxed driver

The Stig has an African cousin who only wears boots, a loincloth, racing gloves, and a helmet, has watched “The Lion King” 1780 times, ands second-best friend is a Cape buffalo

The Stig has a cousin who works as a truck driver named Rig Stig who can power slide and drift in trucks, has only one sleeve and wears special gloves, favorite song is “Forever Autumn" by Justin Hayward, and owns the world’s largest porn collection

The Stig has a red-suited Vietnamese cousin who is a communist and rides a motorcycle.

The Stig has a vegetarian cousin named Janet Stig Porter whose helmet is solar powered and wears overalls and socks with sandals

The Stig has a German cousin named Herr Stig who is identical to The Stig in every way besides having a mullet

The Stig has an Italian cousin named Bunga-Bunga Stig who wears a suit, is followed everywhere by three women, and only drives Italian sports cars

The Stig has a Chinese cousin named Attack Stig who is a kung-fu master, attacks anyone on sight indiscriminately, kicked James Lemay in the balls, beat up a large amount of the crew(even stopping in the middle of his timed lap to attack a track Marshall who accidentally entered its line of sight), and looks almost the same as The Stig

The Stig has a teenage cousin who wears headphones, wears low waist line pants showing its underwear, always looks at its phone, and made a mobile game titled “Top Gear: Race The Stig”

The Stig has an Australian cousin who lives in an open cut iron ore mine, wears dusty overalls and flip-flops, is very muscular, and has a very “large gentlemanly sausage”

The Stig has three other teenage cousins who are triplets, wear three different colored headphones and smartphones, and all have low waist line pants showing their underwear

The Stig has a Emirati cousin who looks similar to the normal Stig but wears a ghutrah on top its helmet and a huge diamond watch

The Stig has a relative of unknown association called “StigFoot” who lives in the woods

The Stig has a Japanese cousin named Ninja Stig who is a ninja, and wears a black helmet, a black ninja outfit, and has a katana on its back

The Stig has a business cousin named Business Stig who wears a red tie and a set of braces

The Stig’s father is named StigDad and wears a tank top and flare trousers

The Stig has another Australian cousin who lives upside down

The Stig has a New Zealander cousin named The Stug

The Stig has a Colorodonian cousin named Backwoods Stig who wears white racing overalls with torn off sleeves.

The Stig has a Yorkshire cousin named T’Stig with a flat cap on its helmet and 2 dogs by his feet at all times

The Stig has its own children’s book trilogy

The Stig has a chiseled jawline

The Stig has no friends

The Stig never blinks

The Stig roams the woods at night, foraging for wolves

The Stig is wanted by the CIA

The Stig sleeps upside down like a bat

The Stig can catch fish with its tounge

The Stig appears on high value stamps in Sweden

The Stig is illegal in 17 states

The Stig blinks sideways

The Stig’s breath smells like magnesium

Two of The Stig’s legs are hydraulic

The Stig lives in a tree

It’s sweat can be used to clean precious metals

It’s heart ticks like a watch

It’s voice can only be heard by cats

The Stig has two sets of knees

There is an airport in Russia named after it

Its skin has the texture of a dolphin

No matter where you are in the world, if you tune a radio to 88.4, you can hear its thoughts

The Stig has no understanding of clouds

Its earwax tastes like Turkish delight

The Stig is a master of politics

It’s tears are adhesive

If you set The Stig on fire, it would burn for a thousand days

The Stig can swim seven lengths under the water

The Stig has webbed buttchecks

Its heart is upside down

Its teeth glow in the dark

Its ears “aren’t where you would expect them to be”

The Stig once had an affair with John Prescott

If it felt like it, it could fire Alan Sugar

The Stig has upside down genitals

If it wanted to, it could crack the DaVinci Code in 43 seconds

Its ears have a paisley lining

The Stig is banned from the Chelsea Flower Show

The outline of The Stig’s left nipple is the exact same shape as the Nürburgring

If given a truly important job, The Stig will slack off and play croquet instead

The Stig invented Branston Pickle

On exceptionally warm days, it will shed its skin like a snake

The Stig is allergic to the Dutch

It’s first name is The

If it went in Celebrity Love Island, every one would be pregnant, including the cameramen

The Stig once threw a microwave at someone

The Stig once had a vicious knife fight with Anthea Turner

The Stig has nothing to do with the cash-for-honors scandal

The Stig is a CIA experiment that went wrong

The Stig only eats cheese

If you lick its chest, it will taste exactly like piccalilli

The Stig sucks moisture from ducks

Its crash helmet is modeled after Brittany Spears’ head

The Stig isn’t machine washable

All its potted plants are named Steve

The Stig’s scrotum has its own gravity field

To unlock The Stig, you must run your finger down its face

The Stig thought Star Wars was a documentary

The Stig is afraid of Australian trees

61 years ago, The Stig accidentally introduced the Queen of England to a Greek racialist

The Stig was beheaded, but grew it back

When it slows down, break lights turn on in his butt

The Stig is bad at soccer

The Stig once lost a canoe on a beach in the Northeast

The Stig once had to do time in a prison in Canterbury, because its teddy bear was named Baby Jesus

The Stig has never sat on Santa’s knee

The Stig has never watched Moonraker on Boxing Day

After having sex, The Stig bites the head off its partner

The Stig had to give up binge drinking when prices reached $1.50 a litre

Each of its toenails are exactly the same length as a woman’s nipples

It thinks Credit Crunch is a type of cereal

Its droppings have been found as far as New York

The Stig has a full-size tattoo of The Stig’s face on its face

It is impossible for The Stig to wear socks

The Stig can open a beer bottle with its testes

The Stig sleeps inside out

The Stig once had sex with an answering machine

The Stig invented November

One of its eyes is a testicle

Its left leg gets longer when it sees someone it finds attractive

The Stig doesn’t like getting its helmet wet

The Stig invented the curtain

The Stig thinks potato chips are a type of animal

The Stig is baffled by urinals

The Stig has twelve GCSEs, all in domestic science

The Stig has been producing artificial sperm for years, even though the team has repeatedly asked it not to

On Thursdays, The Stig becomes extremely bulbous

The Stig is highly contagious of the “The Stig Flu”, which killed countless pigs in Mexico

If The Stig compensated a soldier for getting wounded, it wouldn't try to take it all back again

The Stig made someone bald once

In the Autumn, all its arms turn brown and fall off

if it wrote you a letter of condolence, The Stog would get your name right

The Stig has terrible plans involving the Moon

The Stig‘s new Christmas range of fragrances includes the great smell of Wednesday

The Stig was turned down for the job of EU President because its face was just too recognizable

The Stig has never once hit a fire hydrant.

You shouldn't go around to its house for your Christmas lunch unless you enjoy the taste of seagull

The Stig has to take his shoes off with an alum key

The Stig’s New Year's Resolution is to eat fewer mice

Its discharge is luminous

There are 17 different reasons why The Stig is banned from the North Hampton branch of Little Chef

Its favourite airline pilot is Mark Webber, or two, actually

The Stig has an irrational hatred of Rubens Barricello

The Stig is terrified the BBC will reveal its salary because its paid in hardcore porn

Some people think the Scottish released it a little bit too soon

The Stig once spent all week slowly pushing an effigy of Rubens Barricello through his desk fan

The Stig has recently been releasing pop records under the pseudonym of "Lady Gaga"

Under its race suit, The Stig also wears a red G-string and suspenders

The Stig doesn't understand the word "envelope"

The Stig is the only person in Britain not to have slept with Alan Johnson's policeman

The Stig once tore a goat in half

Its nipples are explosive

In its wallet, it keeps a photograph of its wallet

Its favourite disease it had as a child was gout

The Stig doesn’t know what dogs are for

The Stig can't eat mashed potato for religious reasons

The Stig once received 47,000 Olympic tickets, all of them for the final of women's wrestling

The Stig refuses to acknowledge the existence of Nottinghamshire

The Stig once hacked into its own helmet

The Stig is the only person in Britain who knows what B&Q stands for

The Stig once spent its $1.5 million dollar bonus on French breast implants

The Stig has 50,000 photographs of its own camera

The Stig has high horsepower

The Stig is skilled in cocktail-making

The Stig is the only person in history to buy a DFS sofa when it wasn’t on sale

Its favourite boxing venue is Munich Airport

The Stig stores all of its shoes and cassette tapes on the motorway central reservation

Following the vote on gay marriage in Britain, The Stig got engaged to James May’s lawnmower

Its convinced that Henry IV is buried under the Follow-Through

The Stig used to be a stormtrooper, but it was kicked out when it tried to eat Darth Vader

The Stig is made of rubber porcelain

The Stig’s shadow is that of a beluga whale

The Stig can play guitar with the clutch

Its carbon fibre beard is chiselled in the most streamlined way

The Stig knighted the former Queen of England

The Stig once saved the former Queen from God

The Stig can hypnotize sheep

If bothered, The Stig could swim the entire Atlantic Ocean-underwater

The Stig once co-presented a Brazilian show about blimp disasters

The Stig once actually punched God

The Stig once killed a giraffe with just its feet

The Stig has a black belt in paper maché

Some say it is five foot tall with lead in its feet

Others say six feet with tall with air in its head

....but it doesn't care what you say

The Stig has contracted every STD known to man

The Stig has large inflatable breasts to get them out of speeding tickets

The Stig is one of the protons in the Large Hadron Collider

The Stig creates miniature black holes every time he sneezes

The Stig was the one who actually pulled Excalibur from the stone and is the rightful King of England

The Stig gave birth to Chuck Norris and the mother was Superman

The Stig has no understanding of queuing

The Stig once modelled for Page 3

Its feet are made from dog leather

The Stig invented the mankini because it was frustrated with how its speedos looked on it

The Stig is the reason why The Beatles split up

And finally: The Stig has never watched an episode of Top Gear because it prefers a different show that airs at the same time

“Right, that's the track, now we needed someone who could tame it. So we got ourselves a professional racing driver who could post consistently fast lap times. We um, we couldn't do that. Now we call this thing The Stig, okay, we don't know its name, we really don't know its name, no-one knows its name and we don't want to know because it's a racing driver and racing drivers have tiny little brains and therefore worthless opinions and they're very dull; doctors actually call it Mansell Syndrome. Um, its job is simply to go out there and drive fast.”

-God probably

[nerdygaymormon]

Happy Pride

I want to wish a Happy Pride to:

Green Carnations

In 1892, Oscar Wilde had some of his friends wear a green carnation on their left lapels to the opening night of his show. An elegant and witty character in the play—who paralleled real-life Oscar Wilde—wore a carnation as part of his costume. Why green? It was an unnatural color for a carnation, Wilde chose this since it was said that homosexuality was unnatural. The green carnation became associated with Wilde and his flamboyant friends, and spread as a secret code to show others that you're gay.

"Be Gay, Do Crime"

The slogan "Be gay, do crime" has existed since at least 2011. The slogan suggests that crime and incivility may be necessary to earn equal rights given the criminalization of homosexuality around the world and a reminder that the Stonewall uprising was a riot. The slogan stands in contrast to the polished, corporate version of contemporary Pride, and shows that queerness has always been transgressive, regardless of its legal status. Part of being queer is being willing to push boundaries and protect one's self from the law since we have traditionally been attacked by it.

Peppermint Patty and Marcie

Peppermint Patty defied traditional gender norms. She played all sorts of sports at a time when it wasn't common for girls to do so. All the other female characters wore dresses, but Patty wears a t-shirt, shorts and sandals and the only other female character not to wear dresses is Marcie.

Peppermint Patty regularly flirts with Charlie Brown and has a strong bond with Marcie. While we don't know for sure, it certainly seems that Peppermint Patty is bi and her best friend Marcie is a lesbian.

I can imagine Peppermint Patty organizing the school's GSA or an all-inclusive dance, and loudly calling out any queerphobia. I like thinking of Patty getting a man's suit from a thrift store and going to Prom where she dances with both Marcie and Charlie Brown

Absolut Vodka

In 1979, Absolut entered the American market, but sales were slow. In 1981, Absolut starting targeting the LGBTQ consumer with the idea this group are trendsetters. Since 1981, Absolut has had print ads in queer magazines, sponsored events in gay bars, donated more than $40 million to queer charities and causes, sponsors the GLAAD Media Awards, and numerous major LGBTQ events in the US annually. Absolut has commissioned many openly gay artists to create ads, such as Andy Warhol, Nereyda Garcia Ferraz, David Spada, Keith Haring and Kenny Scharf. Supporting the queer community in 1981 was risky, but they have invested in the community and earned loyalty in return.

Pink Triangle

In the 1930s and 40s, just as Nazi Germany required Jews in the concentration camps to wear a yellow star of David, gay men, bi men, and trans women had to wear a downward-pointing triangle on their chest. The symbol was reclaimed in the 1970's by the queer liberation movement as a symbol against homophobia, and then was adopted widely by the LGBTQ community. The community took this symbol from the holocaust to show we are stronger than the worst done to us.

The pink triangle has largely been replaced by the rainbow Pride flag, and a reason for this is explaining why a pink triangle is the symbol of the community required an explanation of its dark past and therefore was about what others did to us rather than a symbol representing who we are and our hopes & aspirations. Although it isn't used much anymore, it's important to remember the pink triangle as the first widely-adopted visual symbol of the queer community

Ace & Aro Rings

Beginning in 2005, wearing a black ring on the middle finger of your right hand became a way for people to signify their asexuality. The material and design of the ring are not important as long as it is primarily black. It’s about carrying a reminder on our hands that there are others like us, and it's a way to identify each other. A white ring on the left hand of the middle finger is the aro equivalent.

Eyebrow Slits

Eyebrow slits was a trend in the hip hop community in the 1990's and called "eyebrow cuts." The trend fell out of style, but was brought back in the 2010's by some male artists and models as an edgy fashion statement. Lesbians quickly adopted this trend, perhaps as a way of showing they aren't beholden to gendered fashion rules, and it quickly grew in popularity on social media as a way for members of the queer community to express themselves and signal to each other. It seems natural that a fashion style containing an underlying rebelliousness appeals to a group who are marginalized by society. The eyebrow slit trend largely has faded except among the LGBTQ+ community, and so has become associated with us.

Nautical Star Tattoos

For centuries, sailors would get tattoos, often of images with symbolic meanings, such as the nautical star (which represents the North Star) which was believed to ensure a sailor’s safe return home. In the 1940s and 50s, lesbians were navigating the choppy waters of societal norms and expectations, and this five-pointed star tattoo became their compass, helping them find others like themselves. They'd get this tattoo on the inner wrist because it could be covered by a watch strap during the day, allowing women to hide their identity when necessary for their safety or professional lives, but could reveal it in safe spaces. This symbol was revived in the 1970's and is still used by some to this day.

Online "Am I Gay?" Quizzes

A common experience of people who are gay, bi, and pan, is they find an online quiz that will ask a few questions and then determine whether you are gay, or will reveal how gay you are (as though this can be graded like a school test). Sometimes the questions are lighthearted, while others try to be more serious. Here's the thing, more than any quiz results, searching for this type of quiz is probably the biggest indicator that a person experiences attraction to people of their same gender. It can be helpful for someone to have a "confirmation" of how they're feeling, and thus these "am I gay" quizzes will remain a rite of passage many.

Subaru

In the early 1990's, Subaru was struggling. Sales of their dependable but plain cars were in decline. Subaru knew teachers, healthcare professionals, IT professionals, and the outdoorsy types bought 1/2 their cars in America, and they targeted advertisements at those groups. Soon they realized there was yet another core group, lesbians were 4 times more likely than the average American to purchase a Subaru.

Subaru began printing advertisements that made subtle nods to lesbians in a way that slipped past the notice of other Americans, such as having the license plate "XENA LVR" on a car. Many ads had taglines with double meanings. "Get Out. And Stay Out" could refer to exploring the outdoors in a Subaru—or coming out as gay. "It’s Not a Choice. It’s the Way We’re Built" could refer to all Subarus coming with all-wheel-drive—or an LGBTQ identity.

Subaru noticed a group of customers and created ads for them, a group which often felt unwelcome and invisible. The campaign was so successful that it became a stereotype that lesbians drive Subarus, even leading to the word "Lesbaru." Polls show that the queer community views Subaru as the most queer-friendly brand.

[allthiings]

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[grandparomeaskblog]

Imperium Romanum Bros

Rome / Romulus

full name: Tullus Lupercius Romulus

profession: retired empire

highest military position: Optio Centuriae to Hastatus Prior

(2nd in command to the 5th Centurio, thus in charge of 150 men aged 20-25 of the elite troops of the first cohort)

highest military decoration: Civic Crown

marriage status: unmarried

alignment: lawful neutral

nationality: former Roman, now stateless

residence: no fixed abode

height: 1.64 m / 5'4

appearant age: 28

Religion: Roman Catholic officially, more traditional pagan actually

Transportation: he walks mostly

Favourite clothes: loose fitted styles mostly, shorts, armani jeans, sweatpants, sandals, loafers

favourite colours: white, lavender, reds

sports: F1, chariot racing (team white!!!)

fav food: Take out, cheap beers or expense wines, lotta fish sauce or ketchup, snickers

dreamjob: plasterer

Hobbies: watching sports, walking, hitting the gym, drawing (botanical stuff mainly)

Constantinople / Dinos (Ντίνος) / Rûm (Ῥώμη)

fullname: Kōnstantînos Hatzikaratheodoris

(Κωνσταντίνος Χατζηkαραθεοδωρή)

profession: representative of the Rûm

highest official position: senator

marriage status: widower (to Iullia)

alignment: lawful evil

nationality: Turkish (That's what his passport says. Ha Ha loser!)

residence: Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

height: 1.67 m / 5'5

appearant age: 45

Religion: Greek Orthodox

Transportation: Public transport. He sold his car to be more climate neutral, he does own an electric bike.

Food/drinks/drugs: He has a bit of a sweet tooth. He tries to stick to vegan foods. His favourite treat is a magnum almond, they do sell a vegan version, but he buys the regular as a guilty pleasure! He was an alcoholic but quit drinking after Greece died. He has experimented a lot with drugs. He smokes sigarets and tries to quit three times a year.

Favourite clothes: tailor made suits

taste in jewellery: gold and gems, chains, earrings, watches, rings

favourite colours: purple and blues

description of home: three story apartment with a view to the Bosporus. It's stuffed with books and numbered boxes because he is a hoarder. Only the ground level is tidy enough to have guests over. His furniture is old fashioned but decent, built to last and stylish.

Funfacts: hobbies include beatboxing, making counterfeit money&documents, restoration of old books/art, writing poetry. He is a conspiracy theorist.

Pet: thaleia, the straycat

Music: He plays a Cello he named 'me julie'