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chiscaralight · 5 months ago

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BOOTY POPPIN' !

men who just love their darlings' ass!

includes: nsfw! aventurine, childe, scara x afab!reader (separately), lots of backshots ! mirror sex, cum eating, dry humping, fingering, eating it from the back, i used the word ass a lot LMFAOO, outdoor sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, slight mentions of exhibitionism, thigh riding, its all consensual, probably missed a couple of tags

new format! ill drop the second part of this for the boob lovers lmfao hope u enjoy! blade was also a last minute addition to this but I enjoyed writing for him. i was going to post this tomorrow bur I'm too excited to wait !!!!!

CHILDE.

childe loves your ass! you know it, he knows it, and everyone around you knows it. he doesn’t even try to hide it. why would he? your ass is perfect, he would probably write an essay on it if you ask! if you’re at home and you walk past him wearing something short be prepared, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you get past him without some form of contact.

it’s the same when he’s fucking you! he’s sitting with his legs spread and you on top of him so he can set himself right in front of his full-length mirror. his eyes are switching between your adorable face and the view of your behind in the mirror! he’s kneading and slapping the flesh of your ass as he fucks himself up into you! his bony fingers are tracing the marks he’s leaving all over you while you’re a crying mess, but he’s nowhere near done with you. he’s pulling you off him and flipping you over so he can fuck you right from the back! his hands have found a home on the fat of your hips as he takes in the view. the dip of your waist into the curve of your hips and his eyes lock onto that fucking ass. he groans at the sight, dick twitching as he’s pistoning in and out of you. he’ll never get tired of it.

you’re even starting to think he’s doing things just to get you to bend over. Things that should be nowhere near his room disappeared under the bed, and the remote he was holding mere seconds ago accidentally slid so deep under the couch. he’s politely asking you to bend down and get it. when you do go in for it though, he’s already touching you! but you’re not even on the ground yet! you sigh, because you know swatting him away won’t do much but hold him off for half a second.

even when there’s nothing inherently sexual about what you’re doing! you’re just resting on the kitchen counter and he’s behind you, pressing his hard cock into you. you both end up coming untouched through the messy kisses and the clothes grinding, but you don’t even have it in you to complain.

AVENTURINE.

i’ve actually already written an ass-obsessed aven here, but i can’t get it out of my head!!! he’s definitely more subtle about it, but he’s still obsessed all the same. in public, it’s all fleeting touches. maybe he’s resting his hand there or slipping his long fingers into your back pocket. you help in protest as he silently curls his fingers into the flesh, but he only cocks his head to the side, mocking concern as he asks you what’s wrong. you can only roll your eyes in response.

Your eyes are rolling back behind closed doors though, as you’re laying flat with him beside you, staring at your bruised butt. those taunting fingers, after slapping your ass so much, are bullying your cunt as they’re pumping in and out of you. you want to tell him it’s too much, but you already agreed to give him one more orgasm and you do not want to disappoint:( But it’s a particular curl of his digits that has you arching off the bed and staining your thighs, his fingers and shockingly his face! you’re so embarrassed you could cry, but he only wipes his face with his fingers and licks it off. you’re trying to sit up, but he’s pushing you back down as he mounts you.

he knows how much you love him prone boning you, so as a reward for doing extra good earlier, he does! you’re practically weeping into the sheets as his hips meet yours over and over. he wastes no time in turning you on your side so he can see that face of yours. you’re all red and teary eyes as he doesn’t stop fucking you. his hand is rubbing the flesh of your sore behind and you can barely move! your little body is so spent, but he promises to take care of you with a kiss to your temple. but not without slapping your ass one more time.

he’s pulling out of you to drag your hips up. it’s his tongue that gets you reeling, darting between your puffy clit and dripping hole. he’s pushing you back onto his face over and over you’re releasing much more directly on his face this time! he apologizes, saying how much he couldn’t help himself because the thought of it stuck so much since you squirted all over him before ! Sure, I'll help you with that. The corrected text is: "apologizes"

SCARA.

when it comes to scara, he acts as if he doesn’t care. a body is a body. he’s going to tell you that the “ass or tits” argument is dumb, but his actions tell you otherwise.

he’s always finding some reason to press up against you! he’ll claim he just wants to get something from the shelf above you, but he’s dragging his clothes cock all over your ass!

even when he’s sat in his gaming chair, he has you facing him and immediately he hits an intermission in whatever game his playing, his hands are finding their way right down to the curve of your butt. but he’ll swear he doesn’t have a preference.

“your ass just happened to be in my hands' way,” as he shrugs it off. but you can see past his silly lie.

you didn’t think he’d be proving you right out in the open like this though. his car is parked at the end of some abandoned alleyway while he has you bent over the trunk! the cool metal is no match for the heat the two of you are emitting as he ruts into your walls.

he’s fisting your hair, spitting something about how good you looked. it wasn’t his fault! you’re the one wearing such a tiny skirt, how could he not get a piece of that? the nasty fucker only releases the hard grip he has on your hair so he can take another quick whiff from your panties. your strong scent has him powering up again, so he’s crossing his arm over your ass to grab your hips and fuck into you harder. the sound of your skin slapping is reverberating off the walls, and hard. you’re only getting louder, and he takes the opportunity to dip down into your ear again, warning you that you’ll get found out and show whichever passerby how nasty you are, taking him in so deep like this while anyone can catch you as quickly as it started.

the thought sends waves right down between your legs as his hands come in contact with your ass once again. he’s fucking you onto him as he cums, rolling his hips against the plush of your behind. and per his words, you have to keep it in the whole car ride home if you want him to fuck you again later.

BLADE.

even though blade doesn't talk much, he's very calculated with his actions. he makes sure he's thinking through everything to ensure he doesn't hurt you. it's also why you raise an eyebrow when you feel his fingertips very softly brush against your butt. and it keeps happening. you feel like you're going insane! the feather-light touches are running through your mind but the way he carries himself immediately after, it's like nothing ever happened.

so you start to retaliate. your bottoms are getting shorter and tighter day by day. it's gotten to the point where you're barely wearing any pants around him at all! you're constantly dropping things and bending over to pick him up, seating your half-naked behind just millimeters away from his fingers resting on the couch and asking him what's wrong whenever you notice him freeze up. more importantly, those small touches have stopped. you hmph in a small victory, not sure what you achieved but you feel satisfied nonetheless.

the hmphs and ahs that are spewing from you later in the night are nothing compared to the one of false victory. your shoulders are hunched as your back faced him. Do you think your actions wouldn't get noticed? think again. you're grinding your clothed cunt painfully slow against his clothed thigh. his hand connects with the soft skin as he tells you to speed up. two can play the teasing game but only one can win. your cries and pleas only fuel him further as you blurt out every apology your spiraling mind will let you. your legs are aching and your orgasm is moving in and out as you begin to tire out.. but your bladie isn't that mean, so he's repositioning the two of you to fix both of your problems.

his left leg is propped up on the couch, the other leg hanging off as his back rests against the arm of the chair. your body is flat against the cushions as he thrusts up into you (see sledge for reference). your cunt is sure, but he knows just the right angles to hit to make you forget that. but while you're lost in your world of pleasure, he's lost somewhere else. he literally cannot take his eyes off your ass. he's mesmerized, as each thrust keeps bouncing it around. his hands are gripping the top, pushing you down on him as you both cum against each other. even when he's pulling out and picking you up to clean up, he just can't get it out of his head !!! it's going to bother him for the next couple of weeks, maybe even months! but best believe he will be coming right back to enjoy the view.

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roseykat · 1 year ago

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TITLE: Calling him ‘daddy’

SYNOPSIS: An OT8 blurb of what happens when you call each of the members ‘daddy’.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of sex, orgasms, choking, using the name ‘daddy’, spitting, public sex, degradation, use of names such as ‘slut’, swearing, dirty talk, edging, bondage.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Last blurb upload before I post my Hyunjin one shot for Shutterfly Butterfly. Thank you so much for reading. ily xox (Rose)

BANG CHAN

Call him daddy. Just do it, because he will fuck you into next month. He already exudes that ‘daddy’ energy anyway and boy does he live up to it. He’s not always a mean top or dom. In most instances, he’s polite, subtle and unassuming. What he says in bed, goes. You know when to get on your knees and take all of him in your mouth until it’s full with his cum.

You know when to use your words wisely in bed, no matter how frustrated you get with him when he edges you for the fifth time. It’s that type of daddy energy - the ‘say something once and you bow’ type. But, be obedient, and he will reward you for being good. Be disobedient and you won’t see his dick for the next two weeks.

MINHO

It’s literally a ‘fuck around and find out’ if you want to call him daddy. If so, he’s dragging you to the nearest surface and fucking you on it. That name to him, drives him nuts - in the best way though. He can be one of those mean daddies who won’t give you what you want, but only on special occasions and only if you truly deserve it.

The times where you don’t deserve it are usually the times where you call him daddy in public just to rile him up. If public indecency wasn’t a crime, Minho would be fucking you in front of everyone who walks past on the street. Or ripping your clothes off with his teeth on the table in the middle of a restaurant. He’d want people to know who your daddy is, and he’s sure one person would at least enjoy the show.

CHANGBIN

The name ‘daddy’ flew over his head once, but it’s okay, he was just trying to understand it. The second time he hears you call him it was just as a joke, even then he laughed. But when you’re whining it out for him in bed, that man gets it and he’s done for. When Changbin is about to make you cum, and you’re repetitively calling him daddy, he’ll be fucking you harder into the mattress.

There’s an aspect of the word ‘daddy’ that makes him feel more dominant than usual. It’s like you’re relying on him for something - usually sexual favours, which he loves to uphold. But there’s also the soft requests like hugs, kisses, sometimes but not always, material thing. He’ll do them only for you and loves seeing the satisfaction on your face when he fulfills them.

HYUNJIN

Folds when you call him daddy. If he’s pounding into you at such a rough pace, you won’t even be able to get the word out past your lips. The same goes for when he’s choking you. So if your mouth isn’t stuffed with a ball gag or his cock and you’re able to call him daddy, Hyunjin will nearly combust. He needs to hear ‘how good daddy feels’, and ‘how much daddy is making me cum’.

It fuels the hell out of his ego but doesn’t get too cocky about it. He’ll adhere to that title by rewarding you if you’ve been good or punish you if you’ve been misbehaving. Usually his punishments are intense and cruel. Hyunjin has no trouble fixing a collar around your throat, binding your body until you can’t move, edging you until you cry, but would never let you orgasm.

JISUNG

The beauty of Jisung is that he’s the ultimate switch who cannot sit in the middle of the top/bottom and dom/sub spectrum. He’s a top or dom one day then flies straight over to the other side as a sub or bottom the next. In saying that when he’s not acting like a whiny, little sub, calling Jisung ‘daddy’ will expand the dominant side of his personality. Hearing that name in his ear will make him fuck you harder, make you cum harder, make you moan louder, all of the above.

He’ll say things like ‘what a gem taking all of daddy’s cock.’ Or, ‘you love it when daddy fucks you like this huh? Look at that, creaming around me like a good little slut.’ It’s insane how much he enjoys that slice of power. He just gets so into the moment that he could easily slip into a top or dom high depending on the situation. Regardless, that is his name to you whenever he’s not being a sub or bottom and he won’t settle for anything less.

FELIX

Felix has the personality of an angel - someone who literally cannot do wrong in the eyes of a religious goer. But in bed, he’s the son of Satan himself. The day the word ‘daddy’ accidentally slipped out of your mouth, was the day his innocence was stripped back. He fucks you differently now. It’s harsher, hand around your throat, degrading, wanting to spit in your mouth type of fucking.

He’s become so accustomed to hearing you call him daddy in bed that sometimes it’s weird if you don’t. That being said, if you call him that name outside of the bedroom too, it easily gets him horny enough to fuck you. Be it in a dressing room, the back of his car, or in a club. He could never get enough of hearing that word from you.

SEUNGMIN

Isn’t entirely fazed when you call him daddy. He knows he could most definitely be one, but isn’t conceited about it either. It’s the cool, calm, and collected aura around him which is a little bit unpredictable that could make him a ‘daddy’. But that’s what most ‘daddies’ emulate anyway. He needs to be able to make sure you can’t predict what he brings to the bedroom.

That way, he’ll have you screaming out ‘daddy, please’, ‘daddy fuck me’, ‘daddy you’re gonna make me cum’, whenever his cock is buried inside of you. In contrast to that, Seungmin is a master of aftercare. Since he’s harsh, he needs to make up for it afterwards by fully attending to whatever it is that you need. It’s also an unspoken aspect under the umbrella term ‘daddy.’ Either way, he lives up to it well.

JEONGIN

At first, Jeongin didn’t understand what the hype was when he heard about people calling their significant others ‘daddy’. It wasn’t until it slipped out of your mouth once in bed which got him hard enough again to fuck you twice. Since then, he’s never looked back. He asked, only if you were comfortable with it, for you to keep calling him that. He could melt into the mattress at the sound of your strained voice, hearing that name when he’s eating you out or taking you from behind.

So on the surface, he’s a seemingly innocent looking person but you know that underneath there is a man who’s been blessed by the gods with the ability to fuck. It’s the same person who likes to hear the word ‘daddy’ fall from your lips the same way that his cum does whenever he uses your mouth.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #rosiewritesskz #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #seungmin smut #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader

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scrivenger-grimgar · 9 months ago

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they said it so well

In hindsight the popularity of using “demonic cultivation” for what Wei Wuxian uses is running counter to what is actually in MDZS being used. It is resulting in a lot of fandom confusion, particularly since demonic cultivation is a xianxia genre standard. But that’s not what is going on in MDZS. The genre standard demonic cultivation revolves around stealing qi, absorbing life energy from others, possessing others to get access to their greater cultivation abilities, and in general much more assholery than what Wei Wuxian does. The actual term used by Wei Wuxian and most of the narration in the novel is Guǐdào; aka Ghost Cultivation. It revolves around manipulating the dead, using resentful energy as a power source, and to be absolutely blunt it is a form of necromancy. It is the “redirection” option in dealing with the dead; drain away resentful energy so that you can convince the dead to finally let go and be liberated. Either by getting the justice they were denied in life or having lifted the worst of their anger and attachment so they can think clearer. Not demonic cultivation. The very title “Mo Dao Zu Shi” is part of the subversion element and part of setting in motion assumptions about the story for the original Chinese readers who know the genre and what the usual tropes are. Because calling it “Gui Dao Zu Shi” would give away too much from the start of what is actually going on. Also per MXTX, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are “morally perfect” and as that is the intention given by the author herself, that means nothing Wei Wuxian does with ghost cultivation has to actually harm the ghosts in a way that would be morally wrong. Like destroying them, preventing them from reincarnating, that kind of thing. He does not hurt the dead. He’s honestly shown to be more friendly with the undead; he is endlessly kind to them in fact and even gentle. Polite too and that deserves marking because Wei Wuxian ignores most manners because he generally doesn’t care. But he puts that care into how he treats the gui (undead) he commands and works with. He gives them rewards for a job well done as shown in the Yi City arc! The one who does use ghost cultivation to hurt both the living and dead is Xue Yang who is repudiated by Wei Wuxian; “Xue Yang has to die” is what he says and that is what he helps Lan Wangji do. But the actual founder? The guy who made it and is the absolute master of it? Rejects that kind of thinking all the way through the story, even at his lowest.

written by lovepsychothefirst on pillowfort

the tag on ao3 is Demonic Cultivation (Modao Zushi) when it should really be Ghost Cultivation | Guidao (Modao Zushi) or something similar, and there should also be specification on which canon is being used, bc in CQL, the manhua, and the donghua, Guidao has adverse affects when in the novel it doesn't do shit to the practitioner.

#im so angry at the fact that everyone calls it demonic cultivation when its so blatantly wrong >:(#you should be more genre savvy than this!!!! clasic demonic cultivation in xianxia involves brainwashing people into becoming mindless--#servants and eating other peoples' golden cores to increase their own cultivation and sacrificing 13 people to summon an actual demon!!!!#mdzs #mxtx mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mo dao su zhi #modao zushi #the untamed #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the grandmaster of diabolism

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rationalisms · 9 months ago

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could you recommend an indie game that does disco elysium or its kind of game better? (/genuine)

i'd be happy to recommend some games to you for sure!

but i would like to preface this by saying that my point (which is hard to explain in a pithy tag aside to be fair lol) isn't necessarily that these will be "better" than disco elysium. that's incredibly hard to quantify anyway since so much of this is based on taste. e.g. i disliked some things about DE other people loved (like the pacing) even though i overall had a good time with the game.

it's more that the way people were talking about disco elysium, especially in terms of like... "professional video game journalism" but also definitely on this site and the other formerly blue side, was tinged with this tone that DE is somehow unique or groundbreaking in its attempt to treat a video game like an artform or a serious vehicle for storytelling. which is insulting especially to the games DE clearly draws from.

a lot of people who don't usually play video games played DE based on recommendations, which is great! but a huge part of the response from those people didn't seem to be "wow, clearly i can have a good time with video games if they're like this, i should seek out more". it instead seemed to be "well folks, pack it up, this is the one video game i will enjoy because it's Deep unlike everything else out there". which is incredibly disappointing.

anyway. whether these recommendations will hit for you will primarily depend on what you're looking for when you say "its kind of game", but here's some games that gave me the same general feeling.

planescape: torment is the game that heavily inspired disco elysium. it's a similarly combat-light crpg with a focus on exploration and story and set in a weird, technologically discongruent setting. i would also recommend its sequel, torment: tides of numenera. i didn't enjoy that one as much but it was still pretty good.

kentucky road zero is a game about a truck driver who has to cross the titular road zero and the many people he meets on the way. it's also magical realism so if you enjoyed the genre of disco elysium this might be up your alley.

beautiful desolation is another game which is based on real world culture/history with sci-fi world building on top. in this case south africa. it's really beautiful and rewards exploration in a similar way.

return of the obra dinn is also an atmospheric detective game set on a ship lost in 1803. it's by the same creator who made papers, please (which is also excellent by the way).

hypnospace outlaw has a similar half absurd, half earnest tone. it also felt similarly nostalgic to me. it's incredibly easy to sink a lot of time into this one though so watch out lol.

orwell, and its sequel, orwell: ignorance is strength, are similar "internet" simulators like HO with a much more overt political tone (if you couldn't tell by the name lol). you play as an employee for a government surveillance program.

stasis if you're looking for more isometric point and click games with a strong atmosphere and great voice acting.

sunless sea, and its sequel, sunless skies, are exploration/roguelike games about a weird, fantastical world. if you've ever played fallen london, they're set in the same universe.

what remains of edith finch is also magical realism and dark comedy, so if you enjoyed the tone of DE you might enjoy that.

some say it has always been here also has a surreal and sometimes oppressive atmosphere. i wish this game was longer, i loved it so much.

i miss the sea of japan is another wonderful bitsy game i got reminded of when i thought about SSIHABH. it's wistful and sweet.

i have no mouth and i must scream is a psychological thriller about five people and their dark pasts trying to outwit an AI. it's very atmospheric and also has variously fucked up (by life) protagonists.

whispers of a machine is another detective game with more of a sci-fi slant, though it's set in a world inspired by sweden and other nordic countries. it's also very atmospheric and has some great voice acting.

buddy simulator 1984 gave me a lot of the same feelings disco elysium did (wistfulness, nostalgia, anxiety, etc lol). i really loved the first half of the game but wasn't as into the second half, would absolutely still recommend it though.

and if we're talking just straight up great crpgs with a heavily political tone, i will always always always recommend harebrained schemes shadowrun trilogy (especially dragonfall and hong kong, both incredible games. returns is... fine lol but definitely not on the level of the sequels) and fallout 1 and 2.

plus, no rec list about magical realism would be complete without life is strange. :') i haven't played any of the sequels and it's been a long time since i played it, but i remember loving it at the time.

games i haven't played yet but that are on my to play list and which look like they could scratch the same itch:

citizen sleeper, also a dice based game which is very narrative and exploration based.

norco, which several of my friends love a lot.

where the water tastes like wine, which is set in the great depression era of the US and about collecting stories and sharing them.

pentiment, another detective game set in a real world approximation. i love everything obsidian touches so i'm sure it's great, but i haven't gotten round to it yet.

night in the woods seems to be popular with people who like DE so it might be up your alley. i'm pretty sure it's also magical realism?

roadwarden is another isometric point and click game about exploration and friends have said it has a great atmosphere.

i hope those are a good starting point for you! i would also genuinely recommend just hopping on itch.io and typing in a random prompt and seeing what you get. i've discovered sooo many wonderful games (many of them completely free, though i will always advocate for tipping the creators) by just noodling around on there. tons and tons of incredible indie games who don't have the luxury of publisher funding made by people who could really use the support.

enjoy and have a lovely day ^__^

#anon #reply

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 7 months ago

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Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self. She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her.

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job.

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative.

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work.

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift criticism #anti swifties #ex swiftie #taylor swift #taylor swift critical #literary theory #literary criticism #pathos #rhetorical appeal #rhetoric #rhetorical situation

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 1 year ago

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Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Summary:

Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.

However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.

Especially those that concern a sweet reward.

Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley

TH Masterlist

Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner.

As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.

Our home.

Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night.

Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.

We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.

I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”

Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.

Thanks for the faith, buddy.

“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”

Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow.

We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.

Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good?

Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.

Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there.

Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.

He was a sweet and caring gentleman.

Simply Alfie Solomons.

Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.

Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.

“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”

“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”

I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”

“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”

“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.

“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”

“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”

Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”

“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?”

“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“YouTube…”

He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’

“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t use my words against me.”

“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”

I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”

The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”

“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”

“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”

“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”

“First put on a pair of knickers.”

“No.”

“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”

“I ain’t sweating.”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”

I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”

Until I black out.

The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.

For him.

Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”

“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”

We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”

He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’

“Knickers, Alfie.”

“One round.”

“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”

The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”

I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”

He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”

Game over.

Except for the one card I have left to play.

“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”

“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”

Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.

Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.

Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.

“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”

“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”

Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

These hours are ours.

This is our Margate.

“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”

“Mhm.”

Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.

Because sleeping isn’t an option.

He’s tired of the nightmares.

The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.

Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.

And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.

As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”

He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”

“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”

“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.

“And? Do you like it?”

Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again.

I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”

“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue.

Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”

I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”

“There are cookbooks.”

“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”

“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”

“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”

“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”

Something not to be had in the kitchen.

‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’

Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint.

Game over.

I won.

And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons x reader

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notmyprey · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Uhm I’m new, I love your blog! But I’m just nervous I’ll be judged by others that I like this stuff

Hey I am so so sorry about how long it took me to get to this. I have been thinking this over quite a bit, since this is in fact a very serious thing. (I also have been really busy, which hasn't helped in the speed at which I answer asks)

Firstly, thank you! I am always so happy when people find my art/content as entertaining as I do!

Secondly, in regards to the judgment.

Unfortunately, no matter what you do, someone will judge you. But when you want something enough, when you care about something enough, you will find places and groups where that judgment lessens. I have found my place here, a place where, although no one knows my irl name, they know me by a name I answer to. Although no one knows my face, they do know a truer face of myself than many do in real life. People here know me and often know a more freeing part of me.

I think being here, on Tumbler, has been so freeing and overall rewarding. I know you may be scared of the judgment, but there are ways to lessen it. (I will give tips on how to do this later on)

Although our community has its faults, it is kind at heart and truely is trying to do what they think is best to keep others safe. Although many disagree with the methods, it always comes back to the fact that we want to have a safe place to express ourselves. This, our community, in reality, is a decently safe place.

That being said, I know the fear of harassment is very real. So if you guys want my tips on how to avoid harassment, here are some things I've found:

Dont post political views (outside of DNI lists) on your sfw vore blog. This often can lead to people who dont agree with your view on said matter to seek you out for hate. I have seen this time and time again, I whole heartedly recommend a dedicated blog to that stuff, or even creating a new/separate account for it.

Dont spam tags. This is basic, but often overlooked. Make sure you tag your posts right, or people may block you because you did post something triggering and they saw it.

Dont reblog Willy nilly. This can lead to mishaps, such as accidentally rebloging a post from an nsfw blog. Try to make sure you are rebloging from people you know are safe.

Dont threaten, even jokingly, anyone unless you make it 100% clear it is a joke. This goes for your friend, others, and even people who are mean to you. This is often overlooked, but can easily come to bite you in the ass when your words are used to make you look violent and sporadic.

If people criticize you, even unjustly, try to at least think about where those words may be coming from. I have someone call me a pedo in the past, and although I am very ace, I understand it was probably coming from a place of hurt. Whether it was their hurt or someone they knew, it was probably a subject that was important, and if they see any of the same trends as when they/another was hurt, they will point it out. Dont get angry and aggressive, no matter how much you want to. If you need to, step away.

If troll annons start invading your ask box, either turn off annon or stop answering. Answering annons like that too often only fuels the fire, trolls, not haters, but trolls specifically feed off of your reaction. There is nothing for you to often grasp onto in those moments since the face you are talking to is faceless. So, either scarcely answer trolls, or dont answer them at all.

Dont get involved in community discourse when possible. Unless your hand is forced or it is an unavoidable matter, it is best to stay out of discourse. If you still want to know what others thing/help in a muxg safer way, often, I will message others I trust about their views on the matter (or if they are involved asking if they are doing ok), but rarely anything beyond that. Its difficult, seeing people you know be in the rough situations, but often stepping in when not necessary leads to more problems than it does help.

Please note that these are just some of the things I do that help me. Other people may have their own way of keeping harassment away from their blog, but this is mine.

#sfw vore #extreme cuddling #e a/t

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sleepymccoy · 5 months ago

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Have had a thought to run another fan community event that gets people making mood boards! Because they're a low barrier entry point for people. All you need is a phone and some time, and an idea!

I'll want to have it a bit constrained so that if it works as a fan event I can run again w a different prompt.

There's the natural though, for me, to make it spones. Which is a definite option. Could also do just McCoy as a character. Or could open it up to something much broader like flowers or science or night or whatever to let people really get free with it. Anyone have any ideas or suggestions?

There's also the matter of what the structure is. It's def not a competition w rewards, it's just a nice thing we can all get involved in. So it's really just a common tag and some encouragement to get involved. I think people get involved in stuff like that

I think in the past I've made the mistake of hosting on this blog, which just ends up being busy and people have a hard time going back through the old posts to find everything. So I'll just make a side blog to reblog everything to this time

I reckon past of why mood boards aren't as popular as they once were is people being concerned about copyright claims. I don't think fan work is something that breaks copyright, we're normally protected under the same transformative clause as parody is, so using any photo you see online is fine as long as you're not charging for it. However, i do think it would be poor form to use someone else's fanart without permission, not in a legal sense just in a politeness sense.

Okay yeah, I'm comfortable with those boundaries on copyright stuff, so what's left is just to figure out what kind of prompt is appropriate!

If you have other suggestions for decent prompts let me know!!!

Here's a moodboard of me coming up with this idea:

#star trek #spones #mccoy #spock #kirk #star trek fan event

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h-c-u · 2 years ago

Text

A sheep in Wolff's clothing

Summary: You accompany Toto Wolff at the after-season dinner with drivers, TPs and the few more important people from each teams.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader. Kinda.

W/C: 5.5k

Rating: PG

TWs: none

A/N: You guys are gonna hate me for it, so I apologize in advance! And I assure you I'm already working on something else with our dear Mr. Wolff.

Masterlist | List of tags

You were a perfect girlfriend, and it was something that came extremely easy for you. You knew what to wear, when to smile, what comments to make... When to dominate the conversation, when to let your partner shine, and when to pull others into the spotlight. You knew how to make others laugh, how to make them feel somber, how to make them jealous of how you were treating Toto and how he treated you.

You knew what type of partner he needed, and you were perfect in that role. You teased him just enough and complimented him in a way that wasn't forced, which wasn't that hard because you honestly admired what he was doing.

You were with him at every gala, and every time he or his team got any rewards. You accompanied him on races in UK, Austria, and Monaco... And whenever you were seen together in public, everything was always picture perfect.

So, it was no surprise when you showed up at the after-season dinner with all the drivers and team principals, wearing a dress that made a few of the younger drivers outright stop and stare, but you were used to it by now. You just gave them a polite smile and waved in their direction with a hand that wasn't holding a clutch worth more than some apartments in the center of London.

You stopped for a moment to exchange greetings and compliments with Geri, who immediately clocked your bag and expressed jealousy because she was also bidding on it. You just chuckled and said that if she needed any tips for the next time, she should ask Toto, because you had nothing to do with buying it. You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and went deeper into the room, to finally locate the man, the myth, the legend, who invited you to such a prestigious event.

- Ah, fashionably late, Schatzi...? - he joked and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your cheek and rest his hand on your waist.

- I'm never late, it's everyone else that is early. - you laughed, wrapping your clutch-free hand around him, and putting your head on his shoulder for just a moment. If it was up to you, you wouldn't have any purse with you today, but it was a statement. And people who were meant to understand it - definitely did. - Besides - how else am I supposed to make an entrance? - this time the other team principals laughed too. You took a peek up to read what was on Toto's face, and you could tell that he didn't want you to go mingle just yet, so you stayed where you were, complimenting the other teams’ achievements this season. It took everyone a little bit by surprise because one - you were obviously cheering for Mercedes, and two - you seemed to know just as much as someone high in management, which meant that you not only paid attention but also understood what was happening behind the scenes.

And you couldn't help but see the glimmer of jealousy in Christian’s eyes, because even though Geri was one of his biggest supporters, the way you spoke about how you admired a specific tactic the Red Bull team implemented this season (even though that meant less winning races for Mercedes), just couldn't compare to "you're doing amazing sweetie" he was getting from his wife. Judging by the way Toto squeezed your waist you knew you did well...

- You better not let this one go, my friend... She's one of a kind. - you pretended to blush at Frederick’s words, and hid your face behind your purse, at the same time showing it off.

- Yeah, when are you going to pop the big question? - Otmar interjected, and you gently tapped your fingers on Toto's hip, letting him know you're going to handle this one.

- Didn't he tell you guys? - you pretended to be surprised, and let the silence hang in between everybody just long enough for it not to become uncomfortable. - I said no. - the smile on your face suggested that there will be more, but the principles already laughed. - But in all seriousness - I'm the one responsible for that... I want to wait till I'll be done with my Ph.D. because there is no way I could plan the wedding right now. - you added and the way Toto pulled you closer told you that you did well. It suggested that there was a plan, but it was vague enough that he wouldn’t be faced with questions about it for quite some time. And when they appear, he could brush them off by talking about your research instead, and those types of projects could last for years.

- Oh yeah, biology, right? - you were honestly surprised that Christian was the one who remembered something. He was a bit off though.

- Biotechnology. - you corrected him with a light smile. You could have just nodded, but you were proud enough of the field of your academic achievements, that you couldn't help yourself. - I'm currently part of a research team working on stabilizing Microbial Fuel Cells for long-term medical applications, which is also a basis for my thesis. - you offered but by the look on everyone's face, you knew you lost them. - It's basically a battery that runs on bacteria. - you simplified and that was enough to prompt a few simple questions you didn’t mind answering. You adjusted your language so people who had almost no idea what you were talking about could still understand the gist of it, and by doing so you showed everyone that you felt comfortable enough in your field that you could explain it to anyone, but also conveyed how intelligent you were, without throwing that in their faces.

- Beauty and brains... - Frederick said in a joking manner, so you laughed politely. You felt the natural end to the conversation, and you were just about to excuse yourself when there was a light jingle letting everyone know that the dinner was about to be served. So, you let yourself be whisked away to the Mercedes table, which was already occupied by Lewis, George, and his girlfriend, Bono, Ric, James, and Simon. It was less than at the last event, but that wouldn’t be a problem since you didn’t need to hide behind meaningless conversations with as many people as you could.

Toto pulled out the chair for you and helped you sit down, always the gentleman. But before he ended in his own chair, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, to which you replied with a shy smile.

- It's good to see you again, George. - you greeted the driver seated next to you even before the food arrived. - I was trying to catch you earlier to congratulate you in person on São Paulo. - you put your hand on his forearm to emphasize your words. You already messaged him about it, but it was different in person. - You did really well this season. - you leaned a bit closer to him, so Toto wouldn't hear what you were about to say. - Don't tell him I said anything, but he told me he's really proud of you. - you whispered as if you were sharing a secret about nuclear codes, to which he reacted with laughter.

- Thank you, Y/n. I just hope that you'll be there when I'll get another one. - you leaned back in your chair, making space for the waiter to put a plate with an appetizer in front of you. In the beginning, you always made sure that Toto remembered the fact that you were vegan, but at this point - you didn't have to, because he always did. He paid attention not only to the food but also to other things he bought for you; everything came from environmentally conscious companies, which you appreciated.

- Well, I can't leave the UK for long, because of my research, but if you'll manage to plan your win for Austria, Monaco, or Silverstone, I guarantee I'll be there. - you smiled politely.

- I’ll keep that in mind… By the way, Carmen wanted to add you on Instagram, but since you have it private, she wasn't able to. Would it be ok, if... - he started asking, but you cut him off.

- Yes, of course! I'm sorry, I'm just a really private person and I don't even post that much... - you took your phone out of your clutch, opened the mentioned app, and passed your phone to George's girlfriend. - Just find and add yourself, it's gonna be quicker that way. - you gave her a huge smile.

- Thanks... Sorry to make such a big deal out of it. - by the way she looked at her boyfriend you could easily tell that that ask wasn't consulted beforehand.

- No problem, we're all friends here. - you laughed it off and took back your phone from her hands. You could see the last few pictures that were posted on your account, including the one with a giant bouquet of flowers Toto randomly sent you last week. That's exactly why you had this profile; to share a few crumbs of your relationship with him nestled in between your normal boring life, but it was the life you were happy in.

- And consider yourself lucky, I had to ask her for weeks before she added me! - Lewis commented and you couldn't help but chuckle.

- In my defense, you're one of the biggest gossips on the paddock, and I value my privacy. I had to make sure that you could be trusted. - you joked with the other driver, and what you said was mostly true. When you met Toto for the first time, you were much more paranoid about anything you two did, but now, after over 3 years, you were much more comfortable.

- Me...? - he pretended to be hurt and placed his hand on his heart, simulating real pain. - Gossiping...? - the theatrical gasp that left his mouth was at least Oscar-worthy and everyone at the table laughed.

The rest of the meal went without any major surprises. The conversation was polite but light, the food was amazing, and Toto was as lovely as ever. He didn't let his hands linger on your body for too long, he complimented you in front of your engineers, and to your surprise - he was even able to explain in more detail what was the purpose of your research, which meant that he did his homework. And since the topic of generating electric current was more familiar to them, you were more than happy to dive deeper and answer more in-depth questions, so before the desert, Toto silently offered that you two switch places, so you could talk with the engineers without having to lean over him.

And when the desert came, he was the one to make sure that the dish in front of you was vegan, because you were so caught up in explaining how the MFCs could potentially be used in pacemakers, and what technological steps were separating you from that.

It was nice to lower your barriers a little bit and talk without having to think about what you were about to say, but that ended right after the desert because it was your time to shine on Toto's arm again. So, you thanked the four men for the conversation and let Toto lead you to the dancefloor, where there were already a few couples dancing. Since not everyone finished their meals yet, the music was rather slow, but that didn't stop you two from enjoying the pleasant dance.

Even after all this time, you still couldn't figure out how he always managed to find you the most comfortable heels you ever had on your feet, even though they were abysmally high. They didn't mess up your balance at all and even after a whole evening of dancing, you weren't in that much pain. Plus - they not only matched the dress he chose for you but also his tie and the handkerchief in his pocket, so you two looked like you were made for each other. You stopped worrying about the prices of everything a long time ago; you had to if you didn't want to lose your mind in fear of accidentally damaging anything, even though everything he bought for you, was in the end - yours. All the clothes, jewelry, bags, shoes... He made sure that it was visible how well he took care of you, and how much money he spent on you, despite the fact that you were rarely seen together in public.

- Lewis is coming in our direction. Do you need him to know anything? - you asked quietly, suspecting the driver was about to ask you to dance with him.

- I trust you. - Toto just said with a smile and kissed your hand while taking a bow, like a proper gentleman. - Perfect timing, Lewis... She's all yours. - Toto smiled and passed your hand to the other man, to which he was thanked with a slight nod.

- How is your evening going so far? - Lewis asked, gently placing his hand on your waist, just where it was proper. Over the years you managed to get to know him well enough to call him... maybe not a friend, because he knew next to nothing about you, but you still cared about him.

- Not bad... I'm not sure why Toto always complains about these types of things... - you chuckled and let him lead you in a simple, but pleasant dance.

- Well, maybe your presence is enough to make it more entertaining...? - he suggested in a joking manner, almost flirting, but not quite.

- Oh, stop it... - you pretended to be embarrassed by his words. - Besides, between all the principals and drivers there is enough drama to entertain anyone. - you added with a smile.

- And yet somehow, when you're near, everyone is on their best behavior... - he teased, and you patted him on his shoulder in a scolding manner.

- Lewis! - he just laughed it off. You knew it was all fun and games and you enjoyed that little game of pretend.

- What? It's true! - you shook your head in disbelief. - But I bet there is going to be at least one fight about who's gonna get the privilege of dancing with you next... - he pointed his chin in the direction of a group containing a few of the younger drivers discussing something very lively. You glanced at them and sighed quietly... Sometimes you couldn't believe that those boys were the best in the world in that they did because even though you weren't that far apart in age, they still seemed like children to you. - Not a fan? - he noticed that something wasn't exactly right.

- Don't get me wrong, I like them... But I also see how they look at me, and while you and I tease each other and joke, I know you understand that I belong to someone else, and you would never cross that line. They have hope. - you explained, and Lewis nodded with understanding. You knew that objectively you fit a certain set of beauty standards, especially when you were as dolled up as today, but you never considered it your defining feature. And even though it was your looks that drew Toto to you, it was the conversation you had that sealed the deal for him.

- Well, they’re still young, and don't get this wrong - so are you. - you knew that. You were a good ten years younger than your current dance partner, but age wasn't exactly something you paid attention to. - You wouldn't believe the things I've heard when he first brought you to the race...

- I can only imagine... - you chuckled because the two of you weren't exactly an obvious pair.

- But you're making it work so well, that you're raising standards for other couples... - he continued, and you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

- What can I say... He's a good one. I can't imagine being with him and not being happy... - you looked at Toto and sent him a soft smile over the crowd, which he almost immediately reciprocated.

- Last chance because I see the youngsters coming over... Do you need a rescue or are you a strong independent princess who doesn't need a knight in shining armor? - you couldn't help but laugh since he was a literal knight.

- I'm good, Sir Hamilton, but thank you. I appreciate that. - you gave him a soft smile, while he mirrored what Toto did earlier and bowed before he left.

- May I have this dance...? - you heard a familiar voice and when you turned around you saw Pierre, with a very charming smile and extended hand.

- You may... - you placed your hand in his and allowed him to pull you closer. His other hand landed a bit too low to your liking, but you weren't afraid to move it higher. - As long as you promise to behave. - you added, your tone a bit sharper than you originally intended, but he still chuckled.

- Of course, mademoiselle... - you shook your head at his choice of words because he highlighted the fact that you weren't married.

- You're on very thin ice, Pierre, thread carefully... - you warned him in a serious tone, and he immediately adjusted his attitude, sensing that if he didn't - you would simply walk away, depriving him of the privilege of your company. The rest of the dance and the conversation were peaceful and when the song ended, he didn't try to convince you to spend another one with him, instead passing your hand to Lando, who was so flustered he almost stumbled, but in the end - he came out on top.

You were able to dance with more of the drivers, and even a few Team Principals and engineers, but eventually, you needed a short break, so you went back to the Mercedes table, where Toto was absorbed in a conversation with Sebastian, but as soon as he saw you walking in his direction, he stopped whatever he was saying, and just looked at you with awe painted all over his face.

- Hey Seb! - you greeted the former Ferrari driver, who looked like someone killed his cat.

- Whoa! Y/n, you look gorgeous! - he exclaimed when he finally saw you.

- Thank you! Although I should share that compliment since I had some help with the dress... - you laughed while sitting on Toto's lap. You established some rules about public displays of affection years ago, and neither of you ever thought about breaking them. - But it's still nothing compared to Hanna's. Did she design it herself? - you asked, but you weren't looking at him; your eyes were searching the table for something non-alcoholic to drink, but you weren't sure if the thing in the pitcher was spiked. You looked at Toto, and he just passed you his glass that contained what you thought was whiskey but turned out to be apple juice. He knew your habits well.

- Yes, she did! Although for the life of me, I couldn't tell you more about it... - he was a little bit embarrassed about that, but it meant that he cared enough to understand that not knowing about a lot of your wife's passion wasn't a good thing.

- I'll find her in a moment then... - you felt a hand on your hip, gently squeezing it, and letting you know you could stay a bit longer. After all those years, you perfected non-verbal communication with Toto, which made things easier when you were in the middle of the crowd. - But tell me... - you finally looked back at Sebastian, and leaned forward, suggesting that you were about to ask something extremely serious. - How much do you want to punch Mattia in the face? - he couldn't help but laugh, and you could feel Toto shaking behind you because he didn’t expect that question either.

- Well, since we're in public, I have to say that not at all. But ask me again after. - this time you were the one to laugh, and you leaned back into the muscled torso behind you. - Ehhh... I'm gonna miss you, Y/n... - he said seriously, and you reached for his hand.

- Seb, you're not dying... And you're one of the three drivers to whom I gave my real number, so do with that information as you will. - you smiled gently. In the beginning, you were super careful not to get attached, but it was harder than you expected. Even though you didn't travel with the team, and you weren't at even half of the races, it was hard not to find at least a few friends over the years, and Seb was definitely one of the closest ones.

- I'll try to remember that... - he chuckled, but there was no actual happiness behind his eyes. - Well, I'm gonna leave you two lovebirds alone. Thanks again Y/n. - and with that, he was off.

- They truly fucked him over, didn't they...? - you asked quietly.

- They did. - you sighed and finished the apple juice that was in Toto's glass.

- Do you want to do anything else...? - you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. After almost four years of the dance you shared, it came naturally to you.

- Make Horner jealous... - he whispered, and you had to look at his face to make sure that he truly meant it because usually, he wasn't a vindictive man.

- How jealous...? - you asked, seeing that he was indeed serious.

- Furious. - there was a darkness behind his soft chocolate eyes, but you could definitely work with that.

- Ask Geri to dance with you. And make her laugh... He will try to establish dominance by either punching you in the face or asking me for a dance and being inappropriate since he's already a bit drunk. If he does the latter, wait a minute, and then maneuver Geri so she'll be able to see us but don't make it obvious. - you said in a sweet tone, and with a giant smile on your face, so anyone who looked at you would think that you were whispering sweet nothings to each other.

- Are you sure you'll be ok with that...? I wouldn't want to... - he started but you just pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

- I'll be fine, I promise. - you rose up from his lap and sat in the chair that was occupied by Vettel just a minute ago. You took out a small mirror from your clutch and pretended to reapply your lipstick when in reality you were observing what was happening behind you, and it wasn't long before you noticed the team principal of Red Bull team strutting in your direction, exactly as you predicted, so you put away both the lipstick and the mirror and let him invite you to dance with him.

The words he used weren't exactly full of charm, but that didn't matter under those specific circumstances. His hand was already lower than you wanted it to be, and you could smell the vodka on his breath, because his face was so close, but you didn’t say anything, since he was playing right into your hand.

- So, Christian, tell me, how did it... Feel... to finally have that giant constructor's trophy in your hands...? - you asked. He was so easy to manipulate… You didn't even have to try that hard. One emphasized word paired with a suggestive smile, and his hand was riding down your ass to squeeze it, but before he managed to do that, you were already reacting. - CHRISTIAN! - you screamed loud enough that you caught everyone’s attention, while his hand was still where it definitely shouldn't be. He froze like a deer in headlights, so you tore it off your body hard enough that he started to lose his balance, and you quickly followed with a strong slap in the face. You were left-handed, so at the events like those almost all the rings were on your right hand, which made the slap sting even more. - Shame on you! - you added, turned around, and pretended to just now notice Geri. She was still holding Toto's hand. You stopped in your tracks because you knew how to play your role well. You mouthed a wordless "I'm sorry" in her direction, before quickly heading toward the exit. You couldn't be sure, yet somehow you were, that Toto was also apologizing to her, and grabbing your things from the table just to follow behind you, suggesting to everyone that your evening has officially ended on a sour note. But that couldn't have been further from the truth.

- Are you ok...? - Toto asked when he caught up with you in front of the restaurant, and you sighed.

- I should have punched him... - you gave him a soft smile, while he was handing you your clutch back. - It would have hurt more because of the rings...

- But a slap was more humiliating... - he offered, gently taking your right hand into his and pressing a soft kiss to your palm that was getting warm from how hard you hit the other man, even though there was no one around now.

- Mr. Wolff, you're getting ahead of yourself... - you teased him, and he almost immediately released your hand from his grip.

- Thank you for tonight... - he smiled, but before he managed to say anything more, the valet brought his car in front of the restaurant. Toto opened the doors for you and offered you his hand so you wouldn't lose balance while getting into the car.

And as soon as he started driving, you finally shook off your mask of a perfect girlfriend and stretched the front seat of the car.

- Do you think anyone took a picture or video of what happened? - you asked, not even trying to hide the yawn. After the whole day in a lab, a flight to Monaco, and literal hours you spent getting ready for the event, it would be a miracle if you weren't tired.

- I think I saw Charles with his phone out. - Toto also relaxed more into a comfortable seat.

- Great. If it somehow leaks, I think we should be seen all happy and in love right after, so I'll keep my schedule open for the next week. - you said, reclining your seat a little bit, to find a more comfortable position. - Oh, and I should send chocolates to Geri tomorrow to express how sorry I am about what happened to really drive the punch. Can you find out where they're staying? - you asked, trying, and failing to keep your eyes open.

- I'll take care of it, don't worry. And isn't your 5th anniversary this week? Don't you have plans? - he asked, and you smiled. He was surprisingly good about remembering things about your life.

- Mhmmm... But we're not doing anything grand... Just a picnic on the roof and a whole day of mind-blowing sex. Not on the roof, just so we're clear. - you heard him laugh.

- Allow me to compensate you for the inconvenience... - you didn't even open your eyes when he said that.

- You've already paid me for tonight... And you got me this abysmally expensive and horrendous clutch that I'm never using again, just so we're clear. - you joked. Well, not about the clutch. Sure, it was a piece of art, but it looked awful.

- I don't mean money... Let me do something for your anniversary since she's already forced to share you with me. - he sighed and that finally made you open your eyes.

- First of all, she’s not forced to accept anything, she's a big girl. And I like you, hell, I even consider you a friend, but if Ellie was ever uncomfortable with what we have - I would have chosen her in a heartbeat. - you said, even though you already established it multiple times. That's why there were rules... No kissing on the mouth, no hands in inappropriate places, and no sharing of the bed.

- I apologize, I didn't mean it like that... I just feel a little bit guilty taking from her the little free time you have. - your expression softened.

- And I appreciate that. - you reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. - We're both fine with... - your phone started vibrating on the highest setting, and that only meant you got a message from one of five people. One was asleep, one was currently in the driver's seat next to you, so that left the other three. You quickly read the message and started laughing. - Well, I guess we're gonna have a date tomorrow. The video already leaked... I swear to gods, those boys will be the death of me one day... - you mumbled under your nose, reading how exactly that happened. Apparently, someone following Charles’s private account leaked the video that he posted as a story there.

- Let me see... - he asked, and you clicked on the link and passed your phone to him exactly as he stopped at the red light. - Auch! - he laughed when he saw you slapping Christian, even though it didn't compare to reality. - Can you send it to me? It will be perfect to watch on a bad day.

- Of course. - you smiled and did as he asked. - Wait a moment... - you put your hand on the stick, nudged Toto to cover it with his, and opened the camera on your phone. But before you took the picture, you put the clutch in the background and made sure that the small amount of the material of your dress was visible in the picture, which you took just as the light was turning green. You cropped it, put a light filter over it, caption it "At least someone knows where to keep their hands..." and posted it on your private profile, for all the people you knew through Toto to see. After it was posted you turned the screen in his direction, and he just chuckled.

- Perfect. So - a date tomorrow. Any specific ideas?

- A picnic. With clearly homemade things but make it super adorable. Like sandwiches cut in the shapes of flowers, strawberries cut in half so they would look like hearts, etc... And it should be somewhere outside of the city to make it look like after today we wanted to be alone. - you nestled back into the chair. You knew he would take care of everything, and that it will be perfect. By now - he trusted you enough with how your relationship was perceived that he stopped questioning your suggestions.

- How about... Not exactly outside of the city, but on Isola dei Cappuccini? It's just an hour flight away and the renovation is already done... - he proposed, and you shook your head.

- Your private island is a bit... too private. We'll need to be photographed without knowing exactly when we'll be photographed. To make everyone think that they caught a glimpse of something they weren't supposed to. - you disagreed softly, exhaustion already catching up to you.

- Ok, picnic outside of the city then. – he agreed, but you could tell that there was still something on his mind. - But... How about I'll fly Ellie in, and you can spend your anniversary there...? I could take you both to the island, so the manifest would say we're both there, but since there are 8 cottages with a good internet connection, I could just work remotely from one of them for a week or so, and be completely out your way. And since we would be the only people there, you two wouldn't have to worry about anything... Hell, I'll even cook. - he offered, and at first, you wanted to say no, because you had your research, but on the other hand... It was ages since you and Ellie did something spontaneous like that. And it was your anniversary after all...

- That would actually be lovely, thank you. - it wouldn't be the first time the three of you would be spending time together, so you knew there was nothing to be afraid of. - And just so we're clear, you really don't have to cook... You're already doing so much for us... - you added with a gentle smile, and he only shrugged.

- I honestly enjoy our arrangement... - in the beginning, you couldn't understand why a man like this wouldn't just find someone to have a real relationship with, but now you knew him well enough to know why. Although he was happy to perform and pretend in front of the public, the romance just wasn't for him, and he was kind enough not to deceive any potential partners. That's why he was happy with the clear rules, the transactional nature of your partnership, and the peace of mind that you could never develop any serious feelings for him. - I'll arrange the jet from Heathrow for tomorrow at... 10 AM? - he looked at you, making sure it would be fine.

- I'll let Ellie know. - you replied, just as he stopped in front of Ritz-Carlton, where there were two separate rooms waiting for you on the top floor.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Toto Wolff fanfiction #Toto Wolff x reader #🖤

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