#women had one area they were absolutely dominating in

[abortionpostbirth]

I'll never stop being frustrated at how men decided they really couldn't let women have anything and needed to begin dominating the makeup industry as well.

Why would James Charles ever be on the front of CoverGirl?

Why do all these men get to have huge makeup brand deals and produce their own palettes as women are left in the dust? The greed is insane.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Crossing The Line

(Art Credits @penpapernaiad on X/Twitter- https://x.com/penpapernaiad/status/1866626496410103905)

Caitlyn Kiramman X Vi Lanes 18+

Summary: After an intense race, Violet confronts Caitlyn about the end controversy which leads to both women discovering something about their relationship and finding a mutual way to take their frustrations out.

Word Count: 4.6k | Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Realisations, Explicit Smut, F1 inspired Fic, Experienced Mercedes Racer Caitlyn/Rookie Red Bull Racer Vi, Top Vi/Bottom Caitlyn, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Brief Praise, Implied Switch but Dom Vi, Begging

A/N- This fic is inspired by the amazing F1 fanart of CaitVi on Twitter and I know absolutely nothing about F1 so apologies just in case some things are incorrect. Also, this is the first time I’ve written something that isn’t a Character X Reader so apologies if it’s a bit weird as I’m not used to not writing something that’s not second person.

---

The sound of engines warming up rumbled around the track, the drivers making their way over to their respective cars to prepare themselves for the race as the crowd cheered in excitement at what was about to happen, the past few races being some of the most competitive of the last few years as new drivers entered the scene, adding their own personal flare that livened up the sport.  

Caitlyn Kiramman, renowned champion and title holder stepped out into driver’s zone, her usual cold, composed and focussed manner on display for all to see as she strided over to where she was needed, her figure radiating dominance and authority as many paused to simply admire her professionalism. Heads turned nearly every time she walked past, the confidence in her form for everyone to admire as she stepped past the McLaren team, offering a polite nod to their technical director before continuing, her blue eyes drifting over to the next racing team, her gaze inevitably wandering to where a certain Red Bull racer was. 

To say things were tense between the world title holder and the new rookie on the block, Vi Lanes, would be a severe understatement, the two of them constantly clashing in every race as the latter’s reckless and rash driving manner was something Caitlyn was not fond of, finding the lack of consistency and accuracy to be a flaw rather than something to admire as she knew the rookies luck would have to come to an end soon. For the fans, this sudden and profound rivalry was something to rave about, the crowd already in anticipation as they saw on the screens the two drivers lock eyes from across the zone, a sudden tension filling the air as the composed, icy blue met the charming and playful glint in the Zaunite’s eyes, cheers surrounding the area as the gaze was held, neither one of the women wanting to back down. 

A smirk graced Vi’s lips as she tried to subtly provoke the blue haired woman, leaning back casually against her car as she zipped up her suit, catching the way the Piltie’s eyes flickered down to the fabric pooled around her waist, Vander, Vi’s director, telling her it was time to actually start focussing. Well, almost as the rookie still had some feathers to ruffle.

“Hey Kiramman,” Vi called out once the other woman had looked away, gaining her attention once more as she simply raised her perfect brow up in a questioning manner, her face impassive whilst she waited. “Keep your eyes on the road this time cupcake , wouldn’t want you to get distracted like last time,” she teased after having just stolen the win in the last race, taking her vibrant red helmet off the top of the car, her amused expression growing at the way she saw the subtle clench of Caitlyn’s jaw, observing how her posture tightened that little bit more as the words settled in the champion. 

“See you on the track, Lanes,” was all Caitlyn replied, keeping her response level headed and calm, doing her best to ignore the playful remark and get back to focusing on the upcoming race, wanting to wipe that smug smile off Vi’s face. 

***

Adrenaline pumped through Vi’s entire being as she kept her eyes trained on the Mercedes in front of her, following behind as close as she physically could, waiting to pounce and steal first place from whatever opening the champion would offer her. However, waiting for the perfectionist that was Caitlyn Kiramman to make a mistake was practically pointless, the woman’s consistency on every corner rather infuriating to the Zaunite as she entered the final corner of the penultimate lap a little roughly, braking later to try and gain fractions of a second on her.

“Fuck, come on Cait, give me something,” She muttered to herself, eyes sparkling with a little hope but also eagerness to find something, anything to use to try and improve her position as second wasn’t good enough for Vi anymore, she was here to prove a point. 

There was also an odd burning desire within her to beat Caitlyn, the tension that brewed between them something more, something that festered deep inside them both and made it seem all the more private and intense. 

The anticipation and excitement bubbled with every move the drivers took as they sped through the first and second corners of the final lap, a hint of unfamiliar nerves growing in the pit of Caitlyn's stomach as she spotted how close Vi was to the back of her, the feeling odd to her as she wasn’t so sure as to why the other woman managed to get under her skin so easily, something inside urging her to somehow do more to ensure she would win, the rivalry being something more personal to her than simply holding onto her infamous Kiramman legacy. 

The nerves only grew as they passed another section of the track, Jayce communicating through the radio to Caitlyn about how Vi had seemed to rather impossibly shave off a little more time, the front of the Red Bull's tyres in line with the back of the Mercedes as they sped along the straight stretch, ready to entire the final corners. 

Determination was evident in both women’s eyes but a sudden glint of light flashed in Vi’s eyes as a minute opening revealed itself to her, the red car launching into the corner recklessly as she tried to squeeze passed, the two cars nearly clipping as the Mercedes had to just about dodge the collision, gasps erupting around the track.

It was almost as though everyone was holding their breath as the two cars lined up practically side by side, both trying to get the edge on the other woman as the cars turned sharply, another rash and bold idea swiftly entering Vi’s mind as she tested the ability of the world champion on the final turn. 

Spotting the hasty move, Caitlyn responded instantly by blocking the overambitious attempt, defending her lead in a manner that had the commentators in awe as they watched the rest of the race unfold, a few protests from some at the way the Mercedes blocked the car off, finding it rather controversial at how the Red bull had to brake harshly to prevent the car smashing into the barriers.  A stream of curses and angered words spilt from Vi’s lips as she had to watch helplessly as the Kiramman sigil on the back of the leading car grew smaller in the distance, crossing the line whilst the checkered flag signalled their victory. As she claimed second place, Vi’s blue eyes followed the way the woman in front of her waved to the crowd, celebrating her win proudly, brewing something undecipherable and intense within her as she needed to find a way to express her anger, feeling as though it was an unfair end to the race, Vander attempting to soothe her and express how impressive second still was but the words fell on deaf ears, Vi’s mind focused on one thing.

This wasn’t over yet. 

***

“What the fuck was that?” Vi snapped as soon as she could find a moment with Caitlyn away from the press and media, her helmet being dropped onto the table as she followed the winner into her private lounge, wanting to confront her and find some sort of way to get rid of this strange, bottled up sensation within her. 

“Excuse me?” Caitlyn’s tone expressed her distaste for the way she was being spoken to, the door being shut by Vi as the blue haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, exuding a fierceness that seemed to only just ignite the anger Vi was experiencing as she took in how the Mercedes’ driver looked after the race, a little taken aback by how perfect and flawless she still looked.

“Oh come on, you know exactly what. You nearly sent me into the barriers, that should have been a penalty,” Vi accused, earning a simply scoff in response, an anger starting to build in the pit of Caitlyn’s stomach at the tense encounter, the way Vi stepped closer to her, her usually charming blue filled with nothing but passion and something undecipherable. The blue haired woman simply smiled in almost disbelief as she shook her head at the other woman’s antics, her hands moving to slick her hair back, feeling the sweat that had built up from under her helmet as she smoothed out her perfect locks, catching the attention of Vi as she couldn’t help but look at the way her long, slender digits moved through her hair. 

“God, you’re so predictable,” She muttered out, her head tilting in a slightly condescending manner as she took in the way the pink haired woman’s brows furrowed slightly, taken aback at what was being said. “You drive recklessly but it’s my fault you lost!” Caitlyn’s tone was laced with an underlying annoyance, as though she was irritated by the Zaunite’s driving style for another reason other than how difficult it was to race against, finding it unsafe for her but also Vi. 

“ Predictable ?” Violet’s voice was dripping with offense, her arm moving in the air slightly to exaggerate her point as she spoke, the gesture not going unnoticed as Caitlyn watched the way her arms flexed subtly through the suit, an odd heat settling at her core as she listened to the rant leaving her lips. “I am not predictable,” she huffed out, her entire style based on the principle that she was bold and unpredictable, no one knowing how to race against or challenge her, it was the sole reason Red bull took a chance on her. “And I only lost because you cut me off, we both know I had you on that corner otherwise,” she argued, taking another step closer to her as Cait’s gaze hardened, the way her ice blue eyes were staring into Vi’s soul making her heart flutter strangely, a shiver running down her spine at the way dominance just seemed to suddenly ooze off the Piltovan. 

“I was defending my lead,” She coldly replied, standing up a little straighter and reminding the two of them of the slight height difference, Vi refusing to back down as she stood before her. “It was perfectly legal and you know it, maybe you should have been keeping your ‘eyes on the road’ to notice that I was defending,” she taunted, throwing back Vi’s teasing remark back in her face, a mocking laugh falling from her lips as she chuckled out in disbelief at her words. 

“And you say I’m the one that’s predictable? I should have know that you wouldn’t never be able to believe you were actually in the wrong for once,” Vi muttered in a snarky manner, the tense eye contact seeming to affect both women as the bubbling of heat within them both grew, eyes seeming to subconsciously flicker down to each other’s lips, insatiably drawn to one another. 

“I can accept it,” Cait starts off after snapping out of the small trance of staring at the other woman’s lips, imagining the way they felt as she spotted the small scar against her top lip, her mind wandering down the wrong path as she pictured how plump they would feel against hers, her head shaking to rid the thoughts from her head as she continued, “But I wasn’t in the wrong today, that was you trying to squeeze through a gap that wasn’t there as usual!

“As usual?” Vi snapped back but before she could get another word out, Caitlyn cut her off, not wanting to hear her try and argue something that was clearly true. 

“Oh come on Violet , we all know it!” The words that leave Cait’s lips takes Vi back, the use of her full name triggering something within her, her heart beating that little bit faster as heat courses through her body, the overpowering feeling of arousal confusing her momentarily. “You try something rash and stupid and pray it pays off, I warned you when we first met that it wouldn’t pay off in this league but you didn’t listen,” underneath the irritation in the Piltovan’s tone, there was a hint of something else, Vi’s brows furrowing slightly as Cait continued, seeming to need to get this off her chest.  “You were reckless in the first race and you still are,” she sighs out, a hint of care seeping into her words making everything suddenly click into place in Vi’s mind, a tense silence wrapping around them both. 

Their eyes met once more, the two of them seeming to both realise at the same time why everything felt more intense, felt more personal and significant between them, why it was always more than just a race. The atmosphere around them grew tense as their eyes softened momentarily, searching one another as everything slowly processed in their minds, the feelings that were being uncovered and discovered, the close proximity between them more prominent as they both realised how close they actually were, and the sudden desire to cross a line. 

Naturally, Vi made the bold move to lean forwards, her hand cupping Caitlyn’s cheek as they crashed their lips together, a soft moan escaping the latter as she lost herself into the feeling of Vi’s addictive lips, gasping gently into her mouth before leaning back in for more. Both of them closed their eyes as they let themselves drown in the passion of the kiss, hands roaming each others bodies, pulling each other as close as physically possible as bottled up emotions were poured into the kiss, the anger, care and underlying love taking over them both along with lust and desire, their bodies longing and craving one another. 

Sliding her hands down the toned back of Violet, Caitlyn pulled her closer to her, letting her body be trapped between the wall and the other woman as she sighed softly into the kiss, the two of them smiling into it briefly before going back in for more, their fervent lips constantly brushing one another as their bodies felt an electric connection, arousal clouding their minds. Taking control, Caitlyn let her teeth gently bite down on Vi’s lips, earning a low groan from Violet as she felt her tongue soothe over the dull pain she caused, her tongue then sliding into her mouth as their tongues lewdly slid against each other, igniting a newfound desperation within them both as hunger took over their actions. 

Hands messily found their way to Vi’s hair, the Red Bull racer’s hands moving to the opposite woman’s hips, caressing them before letting her hands continue to explore her body, wanting to know what she enjoyed, eager to witness her reactions. The feeling of slender fingers tugging on her hair sent heat pooling between Vi’s thighs, distracting her momentarily before her lips pressed a little harder against Cait’s, moving them to pepper kisses along her jaw, taking a minute to let her thoughts make sense again, the only thing consuming her mind being the blue haired woman. 

Her lips trailed addictive, hot open-mouthed kisses along the soft and creamy skin she could, the feeling of Cait trying to take control of the situation again making her realise how she still was a little annoyed with the other women, deciding she wanted to get revenge back for just missing out on first place. 

“Vi,” she heard the other woman sigh out sinfully, the way her name fell so effortlessly from her lips, wrapped in that delicate British accent, sent waves of arousal crashing through the Zaunite but she tried her best to not let it affect her as she wanted to tease the woman melting in her arms beyond madness, to torment her and get revenge for the race. 

Pulling back from her enticing skin, Vi gazed into Caitlyn’s eyes, getting lost in the way each shade of blue was filled with desire before letting her hands travel up her body to the zip of her racing suit, asking the silent question for permission. The tender action brought a gentle smile to Caitlyn’s lips, the ice queen’s composure slowly crumbling away as she let her eyes flicker between the aroused glint in Vi’s eyes and her fingers tugging down her zipper, taking in how skilful her fingers looked and how she imagined they would feel buried deep inside her. 

Their lips met once more whilst Vi’s fingers slowly pushed the fabric off her shoulders, fingers sliding under the thick protective gear they had to wear to the thinner fabric, her strong hands gripping onto her hips, squeezing in a manner that Caitlyn found intoxicating, fogging her mind with arousal as she tried to dominate the kiss, wanting to have some sort of control as her body slowly succumbed to the other woman’s touch.

The action however simply made Vi smirk into the kiss, the smug expression accompanied by her hands drifting lower in her suit, meeting the waistband of the leggings the Mercedes’ driver wore under the suit, fingers toying with the fabric. 

“Ah, ah,” she hummed out disapprovingly when Caitlyn tried to take control, a teasing and playful tone to it as she ghosted her lips against hers, brushing them delicately before trailing the soft touches to the shell of her ear, wanting to torment the woman pinned against the wall. “You can be the perfect, composed and in control Kiramman on the track but here,” Vi rasped teasingly, teeth gently biting down on Cait’s earlobe, punctuating the end of her words with a kiss to her cheek and fingers drifting closer to the woman’s core, feeling the way her skin was burning and desperate for more, “Here I want to ruin you.” 

“Fuck,” the word escaped Caitlyn before she could stop it, her eyes fluttering open to meet the amused blue of the other woman as she pulled back briefly to engrave the site of Caitlyn Kiramman speechless before her, the glint of dominance in Violet’s eyes making Caitlyn want to squeeze her thighs together but she didn’t, not wanting to give in so easily. A challenging expression crept onto Caitlyn’s face as she lolled her head back against the wall, offering her neck for Violet to kiss down, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin whilst her fingers slid under the waistband of Cait’s leggings, slowly travelling along her searing skin, feeling the way her muscles twitched under her touch.

“Always so confident,” Caitlyn tried to tease, but her voice betrayed her as the words spilt from her lips in a pleased, shaky sigh, her control and composure diminishing with every touch Vi offered her, her body simply craving to let someone else take control for once.

“It’s part of my charm,” Violet chuckles out against her throat, the feeling of her lips pulling up into a smirk making arousal pool between Caitlyn’s thighs, her legs spreading to welcome the other woman’s hand as she drifted over the neatly trimmed hairs there, groaning softly at how wet she already was. “And we both know you love it,” she mumbled out playfully, kissing along Caitlyn’s jaw and encouraging her to lower her head, wanting to watch her reaction to what was about to happen, needing to see the way pleasure etches its way onto her face. 

“Mhmm,” was all Caitlyn could hum back in response, biting down on her lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape her, the way Violet’s fingers felt sliding through her folds effortlessly, gathering the abundance of arousal that was there and using it to circle her clit, making it hard to keep a hold of the last of her self control, the other woman reading the signs of her body and smirking at the attempt to stay quiet. 

A gasp left Caitlyn when Vi skilfully moved her fingers, letting her thumb circle her clit whilst one of her digits slid in easily to her dripping core, a restrained noise desperately trying to leave her lips at the amount of pleasure and heat that consumed her body. The way Violet’s free hand moved up her body to the back of her head, threading through her blue locks and tugging softly also had desire and pleasure clouding her mind, her eyes fluttering open to meet an amused pair of blue eyes gazing at her hungrily before they drifted down to her lips, admiring the way she attempted to stay composed, her fingers digging into the Red bull driver’s suit. 

“Don’t hold back,” Vi whispers before leaning in for a kiss, brushing lips tenderly as she slowly thrusted her finger into her soaking cunt, curling it beautifully against the other woman’s weak spot, her hips grinding down desperately against her hand as sparks of ecstasy shot through her. “I want to hear you scream for me Cait,” Vi further encourages, earring a slightly louder moan that blessed her ears, the sound spurring her on to keep those sinful sounds falling from her lips, needing to hear all the desperate moans, whines and whimpers that she possibly could. 

“Shit, Vi,” Caitlyn groaned out, the combination of her words and the way her fingers expertly slid into her making her body need more, addicted to the pleasure coursing through her veins, the intoxicating manner in which Violet crashed her lips to her, letting passion once again take over them both. 

“That’s it,” Vi praises, smirking into the next kiss as she feels the effect praise has on the other woman, the way her hips bucked against her hand and how she clenched around her digit signalling just how much she loved it, Caitlyn’s head dropping down to hide at Violet’s neck as she basked in the warmth her skin provided momentarily. “You’re so wet, fuck,” Vi mutters almost in disbelief to herself as she adds another finger into Caitlyn’s core, thrusting them both in a manner that had the other woman delirious with the euphoria building in the pit of her stomach, her eyes fluttering open as she looks down, watching the way Vi’s forearm moves with every skilful pump of her fingers. 

“Do that again- Shit , just like that, right there,” Caitlyn moans out, moving one of her hands to rest over Vi’s shoulder, fingers digging into the toned muscle she knew was under the suit whilst the other moved to the collar of the protective gear, grasping onto the fabric so she could pull the other woman back in for a searing kissing, the need to feel her lips against hers more important than anything else. “Don’t stop,” the words fall from her lips in a plea she was a little embarrassed by, the sheer amount of desperation lacing her words something she wasn’t used to, but part of her didn’t care as being filled up by Vi’s fingers just felt so good, her body being pushed towards that familiar edge.

“Are you close?” Vi pants out into a desperate kiss, keeping her pace steady as she felt Caitlyn’s hips buck a little harder against her hand, a sense of urgency seeping into her movements giving away just how much she needed to feel pleasure crash through her. “Yeah?” The cocky tone further aroused Caitlyn as her knuckles started to bleed white at how tight she was gripping onto the back of Vi’s suit, wanting to let her nails scratch down the tattoos littered over her back, to feel her bare skin under her fingertips. “ Beg me ,” was all Vi rasped out, chuckling softly at the hint of annoyance that instantly etched its way onto Caitlyn’s face, a reluctant look clear for Violet to see, only further amusing her as she watched the internal conflict in the blue opposite her. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn managed out, a hint of a warning tone present in her whisper of the other woman’s name, the corner of Violet’s lips tugging up into a mischievous smirk as she could tell Caitlyn’s pride was preventing her from begging desperately to let her come. 

“Beg me or I won't give you what you want,” she muttered into another lewd kiss, tongues sliding against one another before Caitlyn gasped into her mouth, Vi’s fingers brushing over her sweet spot perfectly, almost blurring her vision with pleasure and causing the Mercedes' driver to give in, simply needing to feel her body being over the edge. 

“Please,” she whined out quietly, ashamed at how submissive she sounded, at how much of an effect Violet had on her, her body begging for her touch, her lips, just her . 

“What was that?” Vi tauntingly questioned, earning a groan of frustration from Caitlyn as she  bit down on the teasing woman’s lips in protest, annoyed at how much fun she was having riling her up. “I couldn’t hear you, you need to say it louder Cait,” she teased, moving the hand that was tangled in blue hair to the woman’s chin, tilting her head to make her look into her eyes as she begged her to take mercy on her, to give her what she so desperately needed. 

“Please Violet,” she pleaded, not hiding the sheer amount of desperation in her tone as their eyes locked, sparks of arousal flooding through them both at the intimate, passionate and intense gaze, Vi unable to resist any longer, needing to see Caitlyn fall apart at her touch. 

“Come for me,” she murmured into a passionate kiss, both of them being consumed by the moment as her fingers curled at just the right spot, thumb still brushing over Caitlyn’s sensitive clit, sending her crashing into her release. “Make a mess all over my fingers,” Vi added before a string of moans spilt from the other woman’s lips like a chant,  pleasure instantly consuming Caitlyn entirely and wracking through her, body tensing and trembling in Vi’s strong arms as her release crashed through her powerfully. 

Violet took in every sigh, every soft moan that gracefully fell from Caitlyn’s lips as she rode out her high, the slight twitched from her body as euphoria and ecstasy overwhelmed her, her hips slowly coming to a stop against her hand whilst she relaxed against her comforting body, sinking into it as Vi pressed her into the wall to keep her upright, letting her recover from the exhaustion of her release and the race from earlier. Tenderly, she also brushed back the stray strands of blue from out of Caitlyn’s eyes, tucking a few behind her ear as a delicate and beautiful smile stretched across Cait’s face, the intimacy wrapping around them both greatly appreciated by both women. 

“Don’t get used to that,” Caitlyn mumbled after a moment, holding the soft gaze, letting a hint of mirth appear in her eyes for Violet to see, her smile growing that little bit wider as she raised her eyebrow expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate, “ Next time , I’ll be in charge and I’ll remind you of your place.” 

“Next time?” Chuckled out Vi, a sudden excitement growing in her at the idea of spending more time with the other woman, a small nod from Caitlyn making her smile even more. “And where is my place?” She humorously asked, sliding her hand out of the other woman’s suit, bringing her fingers that were covered in Caitlyn’s cum to her lips, groaning a little at the taste of her whilst Caitlyn watched in awe, unable to take her eyes off her lips as they wrap around her fingers. 

“Under me,” she purrs out, that usual confident and dominant demeanour returning in the Piltovan, her eyes flickering between Vi’s eyes and lips before leaning in to softly press their lips together, her arms loosely wrapping around the back of her neck as they savour the moment. 

“We’ll see about that,” Vi huffs out, her hands settling at Caitlyn’s hips as they let a comfortable silence wrap around them both tenderly, their eyes conveying the emotions they both felt whilst they held the soft and gentle look, both of them glad that they crossed a line, ready to see where this would take them. 

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ᴄᴏᴡɢɪʀʟ ʀᴏᴅᴇᴏ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni very 18+ - you ride ghost.

cowgirl. [lets hope i dont get reported for the first pic...]

simon 'ghost' riley.

previous chapter.

You were absolutely sure you’d have your neighbours file another complaint against the noises that emitted from your home, but if they were ever in your shoes and had the width of Simon Ghost Riley’s cock inside of them, sliding and pushing against the walls of their cunts, they’d be just as loud as you are.

Currently, he had been beneath you, arms locked around your lower waist as he had thrusted his hips upwards, his cock pressing against the soft sponginess of your g-spot as his mouth had been curved around your nipple, at first, you had wanted to dominate him, have him forget about the secret files you had hidden from him which commenced Ghost to remain suspicious, but there had been no other better way to make a man omit a circumstance like wetness and warmth.

In the beginning, you had been slow and agonising, and Ghost had been too impatient, taking you roughly in surprise while leaving bites around your skin, marking his territory. “So good,” he grunted, the warmth of his mouth heating against your skin ere he returned his lips around your nipples, his hands groping your buttocks as he aided you to bounce up and down his cock, “You love getting pounded by my cock, hm? Taking me so good baby doll,” his compliments then being drowned by your high moans.

“I do!” You cried out, “I do love getting pounded by your cock—” your sentence being overtaken by another high gasp as your walls clenched around him, the slick sounds of his shaft moving and throbbing inside of you, your nails dug into the bed sheets as you used all your strength to whirl your hips around his dick, drunk off sex, your body moved on its own chasing your climax while the size of his dick continued to thrust into you, milking his sticky cum inside of your cunt as he pushed a withered moan.

With your bottom lips behind your teeth, you had pressed your face between the crook of his neck as he resumed to pump his length inside of you, racing after your climax before your heat pulsed around him, clear juices spraying and coating his shaft mixed with his cum, your body had slumped against his chest, exhausted by the numerous of rounds shared with each other, Ghost had then pressed his lips against your head while his cock had slid out of your cunt.

“Tired already baby doll?” He inquired and stubborn, you had opened your eyes which had then locked with his brown ones, you had rolled your figure off his and laid beside him.

“No,” you responded.

“Care for another round---”

“Fuck off,” you replied emitting a dry laugh from him.

As you had then gotten comfortable on your bed, your back had been pressed against his chest, in ponder if Ghost had forgotten about the situation with Frazier; you could feel his chin press against the top of your head while his arm had been under your breast. You’d be stupid to think that Ghost had forgotten, but it had been your anxiety deluding you to think otherwise.

You’d also be stupid to think Ghost hadn’t forgotten what happened, though it was a great distraction.

“Fraizer…” you muttered as soon as you entered the base, there had been a couple of other women under the Black Dahlia company occupying the area, most of them greeting you as you walked past, the satisfied look on Frazier’s face unmissable as he spread his arms with appreciation.

“Baby doll,” he grinned, “excuse me, I forgot you liked being called Blade.”

Unsatisfied, you had returned the read file he had given you a couple of days ago. “I had to lie and say that I was going to get groceries, he wanted to come with me, and with the persistent energy I had, he’s ever more curious to what I’m hiding.”

“Controlling boyfriend?” Fraizer joked.

“Protective,” you corrected. “Argent had said that he’ll leave me alone for a good amount of time, why am I being assigned to this mission?”

“Because this isn’t just any type of mission, Blade,” Fraizer replied. “It’s about a fucked-up pharmaceutical making viruses and injecting them inside of people.”

“So, I’ve read,” you hummed. A pharmaceutical company known as the Puma Formation, had been creating monstrous projects out of people, transforming them into withered mutants they plan to release into the world. “This will be the last mission I do before I take my promised break.”

Fraizer had then winked at you before he spoke. “The money coming from this will be promising as well,” he commented.

-“That’ll make him extra suspicious,” you mumbled, “I don’t like lying to him all the time. Not like this.”

“We all keep secrets from each other,” Fraizer said. “Plus, you won’t have to lie as much as you do now,” he commented, and behind him, a plain silver table had held another document and as he turned around, he had slid the file into his hand. “For this mission, we’ll be partnering up with Task Force 141,” and as he had said that, you could feel your heart drop as Fraizer handed the file to you. Amused by your expressive reaction, Fraizer had once again smiled. “I hope this doesn’t cause trouble in paradise.”

NO POSITION REFERENCE THIS TIME.

♆

[atarathegreat]

My 'Pup' König

KorTac, who was better known for its swifter breeds, did have some war types sprinkled in. Mostly German Shepards, but the one that stood out was the Colonel. Colonel König was a Tibetan Mastiff born in an unknown area to a German mother and an unknown, foreign father. Bushy tail and fluffy ears aside. the Colonel was an absolute unit and killing machine. König had the sharpest canines on base, sharpest senses and even the sharpest tongue when he chose to speak.

Speaking with other members was never an issue, the man gave the clearest orders of anyone, but he avoided women. Women were to be respected and treated fairly in his squads...but avoided because he was nervous. First impressions meant everything, and if he didn't go full Colonel mode, he would fumble his words and make a mess of himself.

"She's a Tibetan, like you, so you'll be training her." König was given his order swiftly and without him having time to protest. Everyone could see that something was bothering him, his tail down instead of curled as it usually was. No one dared to ask, seeing how agitated the man was. So, no one raised a finger when a female Tibetan started to follow him around.

"You're the Colonel?" Your voice startled him. König had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to even notice your scent behind him. Steel toed boot, meet steel toed boot. You blocked his kick with one of your own, wagging your tail happily as he growled at you.

Great, I've already made a fool of myself... König grumbled to himself as he lowered his foot to the ground. "Apologies, I failed to notice your approach." König held a hand out to you. It was strange that you wagged your tail at a man who had bared his teeth (something you couldn't see because of his sniper's hood) at you and growled with every ounce of dog in his genes. "All good, Sir. I was informed to find you for my first day of training." The way you smiled at him showed your little canines. He wondered if they were as sharp as they looked.

"Today I want you to show me what you know -"

"Nothing, Sir." The interjection was...annoying, sure, but König could handle it, "I am fresh from camp, Sir. Not an ounce of knowledge in my brain." König sighed and pinned his ears back, "Alright, then spend the day learning the base and I'll figure out what we'll do tomorrow."

König watched your fluffy tail bounce away to make friends and learn the base, just as he'd ordered. He liked that. An obedient little thing, weren't you? For the next week you showcased your obedience and willingness to learn everything you needed to. Getting attached to you wasn't something that König planned on; it was just that you were perfect for him. Little, obedient, strong, and he couldn't help but notice the way you retained his scent from all the time you spent near him. It made him mess up when you were near, fumble his words, and trip over his moves while fighting.

"You smell sweet, pup, what's your name?" A large German Shepard was looming over you and smiling so his canines stuck out. As if she'd be swayed by your pathetic teeth. König glared at the display of what was supposed to be elitism but only came off as desperate. The fur of your tail bounced as you wagged, "I'm Y/n. You are?"

"My name doesn't matter, pup." The soldier was carefully holding some papers, so his nametag was hidden. "But I tell you what pup," He leaned over her and whispered, grinning as he glanced up at the colonel. When your tail stopped, König moved. It didn't matter what happened, you always wagged your tail and angled your ears to whoever was talking. No tail wags, ears flattened. König didn't like it.

"-and I'm sure you'd take my knot perfectly. Wouldn't you?"

König snatched you up by the back of your neck and tossed you over his shoulder, growling deep in his chest. The German Shepard, as they both abandoned rank to take part in the dominance battle, got chest-to-chest with König and growled back. There was a heavy decline in striking fear in the other male due to König's hood hiding his teeth. You were aware of how scary the Colonel could be from training, so you carefully reached around and raised the mask enough to flash his shiny canines.

"She ain't got your scent strapped to her." The German Shepard snarled; his tail lowered to show aggression. It was a move König didn't take kindly to. "Then you must be nose blind, she reeks of me." König growled, leaning to get in the man's face, "Might wanna go to the vet and get that fixed."

"König..." Gods, the way your sweet little voice calling him anything but 'Colonel' made his tail perk, "I'm gonna bite him if he doesn't leave you alone..."

"Then how about we get away and I'll show them all whose pup you are."

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕠 𝕎𝕚𝕟

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy, Gladiator/Minotaur? Jongho x Reader, Warnings: murder, deaths, time accurate sexism, strength kink, touch-starved Jongho, size kink, pet names (Nymph, Doc), no condom(wrap it up), praise Wordcount: 3145 Not proofread

I need red haired Jongho back, desperately. Why did I spend more research on ancient roman practices than this story, I'm crying.

Summary: As a female physician in ancient Rome you're in charge of minor duties, getting a call to the gladiator arena wasn't what you expected, especially with the first ranked one requiring a little more than some of your gauze and bandages.

You absolutely hated this part of the job. Being a physician was great and all but the comments from men never ceased to exist. And you were always made to look like an assistant, making countless people die of things that you were sure were treatable, the male physicians always dismissed any ideas you had, no matter how much proof you gave them.

You got the message today that they would need you at the local gladiator arena, that place shouldn't even exist in your opinion, but that would get you to get called a lunatic. As if being a woman in a male dominated field wasn't bad enough.

Usually, they called you to have you confirm that they were dead, you were usually the bringer of bad news and made sure that the important items on the person were returned to the family. Either to be kept or to be buried later in the day with the body.

That was the only positive things about that gruesome place. It reeked of death; the high, white colosseum walls far more intimidating than your little healing hut.

The guards led you through the open walkways getting you into the room with the dead bodies, you grimaced at the sight slightly. This job really didn't get any easier through the years.

"You better make this quick, we want you to look at a few people that are worth more than that pile over there." The other guard laughed. These were people once too.

"Every day, I wonder how they let a woman do a job like this." They weren't saying this out of concern, not to protect your eyes from this view but to mock you from being the gender you were.

"I'll make it as fast as I can." You did mean it, you wanted to get this over with and leave this place.

"You women should just stay and look after the kids, you're not suited for this kind of work." God if you could, you'd punch his face for even uttering a single word to you. The way their gazes ran over your body, undressing you, it made you feel absolutely repulsed. Men, men like this disgusted you to no end, they deserved the pain that Thanatos would give them when they inevitably perish.

They quickly left you, not too keen on watching touching and examining the corpses. You gently cleaned them off, blood grime and sweat stuck to them even after death. They bodies were hard to move around to get to dirty areas because rigor mortis had them laying in the same position after a while. You closed open wounds so they wouldn't leak as much anymore, so that they at the very least didn't sully the burial clothing.

As the very last step you put them on a blanket and covered their naked bodies with a blanket, ready to be taken to the burial grounds outside of the city.

You took your dirty rags and ceramic bowl with you and the rest of your medical equipment. This was the only thing that healers would allow you to do alone. So, you would at least complete these mundane task to the fullest.

You headed back up to the more residential hospital room, here were some guards and gladiators that survived their fights but weren't supported enough to get their own rooms. Just minor injuries and cuts, making you have to cauterize some wounds and treating some with lint, animal grease, and honey. Depending on how deep and bad they looked.

All this work exhausted you to no end but after a few hours everyone was put to bed for rest or were sent off home. Just as you were about to leave yourself another guard walked up to you before you had the chance to go.

"There's still someone you need to take a look at." He started walking down another way, making you follow him, your white tunica being swooshed around. The hallway seemed to drag on for forever until you were stopped in front of a big set of wooden doors.

"This is as far as I'm going to take you, he tends to… get a little aggressive with us guards." He added that he was the number one gladiator right now, so he was basically a celebrity and that you should treat him as such. You pushed the doors open with a short glance back to the lone guard, he was looking at you almost with a sympathetic face, as if he was in pain. Hopefully he wasn't the violent type, you could deal with an aggressive patient, but you weren't built to fight a professional killer.

The first thing you were greeted by was a big room, with lots of dimmed lights, giving it a warm orangish tone in the bedroom. There was a big bed in the middle of the room, it looked as if it could hold at least 4 people.

There were lit candles and torches all around that emitted the warm glow. The next thing you noticed was the hulking figure in the far end of the room, situated in front of a lit fireplace. They must have not noticed you yet because they didn't turn around at all. The door clicked close, that’s when the person turned their head to the side calling out to you.

"I told everyone, that I didn't want to be bothered." Usually you would leave at that, but there must be a reason why they needed to have a healer look at him, so you wouldn't leave until you did just that.

He didn't sound angry, only exasperated that something like this was happening. You moved forward slightly, clutching your things to your body, nervous because you weren't normally in charge of patients of such high profile.

You didn't look at him, out of respect trying to organize your things on a small table to the side of the meridienne that he was sat on. You only saw his outfit for a moment, barely enough to take in the leather pants and boots, a white shirt accompanying it.

"Didn't you hear what I said, do not bother me." You didn't respond, not too sure if you saying you were going to stay regardless or staying quiet would make him more irritated.

He didn't seem to keen on your lack of a response even though he didn't lash out at you. You were done setting everything up and kept kneeling next to him, now finally speaking.

"I was sent here to take care of any wounds tha-."

"I don't need that"

You lifted your head at the rude interruption, quickly getting stunned by the sight of the man.

Fiery dark red hair and a… surprisingly soft face, he looked young barely older than you. Dark eyebrows and eyes that perfectly matched the rest of his face. He didn't look like a gladiator at all. You've been to countless of fights before as a child, too curious to understand the brutality. And all of them were muscly big dark men, they looked like they would fight anyone and anything.

This man looked nothing of the sort. While there was a good amount of muscle on him, judging by the muscles in his arms and thighs, it was like something from a roman statue. One you'd see at the local temples, worshipped for its beauty and perfection. You wouldn't mind doing exactly that.

What?

No, you were here to help, nothing more, no matter how good looking he was. He was dangerous, he is dangerous.

-do something specific doc?"

What? You looked at his eyes. Not properly hearing him.

"I said, do you need me to do something specific doc?" Oh, right, treatment.

"Any pain anywhere? Or any injuries that you sustained; I'd like to take a look at them." He sighed not really wanting to, but seemingly just wanting to get this over with.

"Just a few cuts, on my arms and back."

"Mhm" He wasn't being transparent with you, so you'd just have to take a look now.

You were waiting for him to take his shirt off, but he didn't move a single inch. You didn't know what man-pride was stopping him from just showing you. Hah, this was going to be an even longer day now. "Just take your top off and I'll see if anything needs further treatment, if you don't let me take a look, you'll get an infection and die." You were talking to him like you were scolding a child, patience wearing thin very quickly.

His shirt was off the very next second and you had to hold back a gasp at all the scars littering his skin. It looked pretty, hard work evident in the scar tissue. Evidence of his survival. You took your jug of saltwater stopping just before pouring over a few open wounds. Warning him about the pain that was going to be coming in a few seconds, he just nodded. No flinch, no whimper, no groan absolutely nothing came out of him.

You knew just how much that hurt, like a burning fire the skin would similarily turn a little red. You quickly moved on to put a small amount of herbal paste on the few cuts along his chest impressed by his anatomy again. Hard to the touch but pliable. You tried to be as gentle as possible, as a last step you brought out some honey using it to form a barrier to the wound and disinfecting it again.

Before wrapping him up you caught sight of something on his shoulder, or back? You couldn't quite see from your position in front of him. You reached for his shoulder and then he turned away, glaring at you now.

"That one's fine." Anyone in s 5 mile radius could tell he was full of bullshit right now."

"No it's not and I'm not gonna let you fucking die from a cut that's easily treatable. So turn around or I will sedate you and do it while you're asleep." Welp, now you did it. Now there was no way that he wouldn't get angry, that must have been his last straw.

Your mouth was closed shut tightly in realization of what you had said. Praying to the gods above to help you out of this mess right now.

He was oddly quiet, that made you look at him. He stared at you, up, down, and then turned around. Without any words. You'd rather not mess with his graciousness again, so you also stayed silent throughout the process of caring for his gash, that was a lot bigger than expected. It would most definitely scar but he wouldn't die from a nasty infection at the very least.

When you were done you put some gauze around it, the other smaller wounds had pieces of fabric on them. You let your hands linger a little on his back muscles not wanting to finish out of nervousness of what he would say next and another part of you because you would be able to continue tracing along his body.

That thought in your mind made you stop, today was not your day. You were usually very professional about all your patients. But something about this man pulled you in. Maybe it was the endless scars that ran across his figure or the rough hand that had calluses from hard work, or the dark eyes that were now trained on you.

Dark eyes that were now trained on you.

You hurried a little out of your half kneeling form, not even noticing how one of your legs was on the sofa, knee buried in the soft cushioning.

You were stepping away a little when his hand shot out to grab your wrist.

"You know I don’t hurt women, I have honor as a warrior, as a man." He caressed your hands a little, looking at them, admiring them as if he wanted to figure out how your hands performed the magic of healing his wounds.

Your heart skipped a little at the contact. "I know." You did, he wasn't the type to do such a thing, not with a touch that soft.

"Say doctor, you would help me from all ailments, isn't that right?" He questioned.

"Of course." Had you missed a spot?

He looked up at you, pulling you into him, his chin resting on your stomach as your hands carefully landed on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, warming you and caging you against him. He was breathing you in for a few moments, seeming to enjoy the comfort of your closeness.

You couldn't imagine how long he must have been without human touch that wasn't violent or deadly. Someone to hold, to search comfort in.

If he needed that, you'd provide, after all you're a doctor and you just hate leaving your patients untreated.

Your hands wandered up his hair pulling his head back and leaning down and clasping your lips together. Climbing on top of him. You could tell hom much he missed this, messy kisses turning rushed and touches exploring every curve of your body. He tugged at a few stings attaching the flowy fabric of your tunic drop with the help of gravity. His hands finding their place on your waist. And yours making quick work of his pants.

"I missed this so much, you're so pretty, so good to me." You could honestly come from his words alone, your explorative touches from before had you thinking a little dirty before, now this was really happening.

"A true goddess sent down to heal me." His kisses just kept going. "Praise Venus for making you so desirable."

You'd never heard words like this from a man, only familiar with the degrading voice of men. He hiked you up slightly, easily lifting you. Getting you closer, your bodies touching in all places.

Your loincloth and breast covering were the next things to go, he was attaching himself immediately to suck onto your exposed boobs. Taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking, and letting go, looking up at you in pure mesmerism dripping from his orbs.

One hand moved down the curve of your back, over your butt and massaged your pussy. Massaging a few fingers over the sensitive slit.

"Jongho, my name, please, call for me." He paused each time, barely getting the words out over him working you up to your peak.

Your noises were unbelievably loud, you would have been embarrassed but you were too much in the moment to care. Moans and groans coming out of you without an ounce of control, Jongho stimulating you so well that you were praying that no gods above were watching this act between you two.

You were barely keeping yourself steadied, your arms slowly giving out. Jongho seemed to notice and flipped you onto the headrest of the couch, having placed himself between your legs. His fingers were now thrusting into you, you hadn't even notice him pumping them in until you really took a look. His big fingers took up so much space inside you, feeling like the biggest dick that you've had before.

He was still looking at you in that concentrated stare, fully intent on having you cum on his fingers. Which he did, only a moment later. Your teeth clenching muffling the loud moan that threatened to escape out of you. Your legs shaking and clamping against his hand, which was stimulating your clit in slow circles now.

It took you a few seconds to get back to earth and you noticed yourself being turned around, your knees propped up a little, stomach over the headrest now. Comfortable after tingles pouring through your nerves, leaving you sensitive.

You felt your entrance being touched with something wet, round, and big. You knew what it was, pushing slightly back to get him in you. You would be damned if you didn't get his cock in you today. Your prayers were answered at a moment’s notice, in the form of a stretching feeling, it burned a little despite the extensive amount of prep. You felt so full when you hear him mutter a little.

"Just a little more, you can take me." He wasn't even fully in and you felt like he was poking at your organs from the inside, brushing onto all the spots in you.

When he bottomed out you truly felt like you were being pushed to your limits, never having felt like this before.

He touched your stomach, pushing in slightly in amazement that you took him, praises falling from his lips, healing away the burn. When he started moving it felt like your insides were being pulled out, dragging long unfiltered moans out of you. Each thrust had him smacking a little harder against your ass, the skin-on-skin noises becoming almost as loud as you. He groaned and moaned when you clenched down especially hard.

"I could live like this, every day have you here spread on my cock. You'd like that wouldn't you little Nymph?" You fit him like a goddamn glove, he couldn’t even remember how sex felt like before this. Before this heavenly sensation.

"Just look at you." He pressed your back down a little, curving it slightly. And angled his thrusts, hitting even harder, knocking your breath out of you on occasion, not quite catching up on the pleasure and your breath.

You reached your hand back, calling his name, needing something to ground you and he obeyed, grabbing onto yours holding on. When his thrusts grew sloppier more desperate you knew he was close and you were too, screaming his name at the top of your lungs you came a second time.

He spilled himself into you at that, liquid filling you up just as much as his cock did. He carefully pulled out, grabbing a blanket that had been thrown down onto the ground and throwing it over you.

You must absolutely look like a mess but he leans down to press a kiss to your lips connecting you two for a few seconds, stopping himself to not have you cumming and bent over in the next few minutes again, as much as he enjoyed to do that. He pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his sweaty chest.

"Let's sleep or you're gonna be the death of me little Nymph." He kissed your head.

That made you remember, his wounds, making you sit up in his arms and checking him over.

"Jongho! you're bleeding."

He grumbled. Not bothered in the slightest. He pulled you down again, keeping you secured along his body. Not letting you leave his embrace and acess the damage properly.

"You can check on those anytime from now on, don't worry."

[imthetunnelunderoceanblvd]

Hiiiii!!!! I’m super gay and was wondering if you are open to writing an avatar Walker x metkayina! Fem reader x zdog smut. They both discover metkayina reader when they were torturing the metkayina clan and they are smitten by her so they kidnap her. Then pls make it smut where they take her virginity with their strapons, fingering, pussy eating (metkayina reader eats their pussies), and then a forced soul tie. They are both very cocky, dominant, and rough with reader. I hope this isn’t too dark and something you’re willing to write

zdinarsk x metkayina!fem!reader x walker.

warnings: vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem. rec.) masturbating, fxfxf, lesbian sex !!, face riding, threesome, slight dirty talking (if you squint!!), slight praising (not really), facials,pls tell me if i forgot any!

zdinarsk and walker were fascinated by the way the metkayina women looked, their hair, clothes, bodies, they've never seen this much women since they woke up as na’vi, they were in heaven..

when the z-dog saw you, tears in your eyes running down your cheeks, the way your wet clothes clung to you body, espicially your top, the fabric of your tiny top that did nothing to cover your entire chest clung to your boobs, defining your perky tits. what caught her attention was your hard nipples, she knew walker would like to look at a pretty thing like you. "look," z-dog said smirking as she nudged walker with her elbow, the woman groaned at her for doing that and looked at what z-dog pointed, "oh shit.." was all walker could think of, she was absolutely shocked with the mesmerizing view she was looking at.

the two women looked at each other, shit eating smirk on both their lips.

and that's how you ended up in this situation, woth z-dog sitting on your face grinding her hips down on your mouth as you lapped up her juices as you laid on your back, legs wide open and shaking, one hand on z-dog's waist, three fingers pinching her skin, thumb rubbing on the flesh, the other hand on walkers head, tugging at her hair as her fingers worked inside you, curling and abusing your sweet spot.

you were trying your best to be good and follow their orders since z-dog pressed her gun to your back. the cold metal made goosebumps appear all over your skin. they were both talking, but you couldn't make out what they were saying.

z-dog's tank top had already been thrown somewhere neither you nor walker are going to find it, her fingers on her nipple playing with the little bud, her other hand on your head, digging into your skull, making you groan and moan both from the pleasure of walker's tongue and pain from the way zdinarsk held your head.

"f-fuck her mo-uth feels so-sso good." you weren't capable of understanding her weird language, and you knew better than to ask.

"tastes so good, ya gotta try her pussy, shit tastes so good, better than strawberries."

walker's fingers started working inside you at a faster pace now, pumping in and out of you as she blew cold air onto your clitoral area, making you buck your hips and whimper against zdinarsk's puffy clitoral area.

it was too much; it felt too good, too. you let out a high-pitched moan when walker sucked your clir harder than ever. the act made your eyes roll to the back of your head, made your toes flex, and made your back arch. when you moaned, z-dog felt the vibrations on her core, and it made her let out a moan. "do that again, god. fuck, it feels so good. do that again, walker!" and when walker heard z-dog's words, her voice would half scream and half moan. she sucked again, this time harder, and to that, you responded yet again with another moan.

a lot of time has passed; your legs are so weak now; your pussy feels numb; you can't even feel your insides, but you enjoy it; every lick, every bite, it all makes your body spark with need.

zdinarsk started grinding on your face now, coating your entire face with her slick, and you had started to grind your pussy on walker's tongue as she moaned and furiously rubbed on her clitoral area. the white sticky liquid of your post-orgasms started to make bubbles between your folds as you gushed out yet another orgasm. it was hard to breathe. the way z-dog was grinding down on your face, you felt your lungs burn from holding your breath for too long.

before you could even comprehend what was happening to you, you felt z-dog's sweet-tasting cum ooze out of her hole and land on your face.

and just like that, both girls were done with you; they got up and put their clothes back on, and you turned to the side and stayed laying down on your side for a while, thinking of what happened. this few-hour thing made your insides unfeelable and your clitoral area hurt, yet it felt so good?

[v3nusxsky]

i LOVE your fics. absolutely beautiful work 💋 can you do more sub rissa plsss maybe some jealous reader who is also a shapeshifter and shifts their yk 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Happy to see you 18+

 *Authors note~ sub Larissa truly has my heart but it's so strange to write reader as a dominant due to me being naturally submissive*

Trigger warnings~ jealous dom r sub l daddy kink? Breeding kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

You're girlfriend was always dominant in her work life, it just comes with the territory of being a headmistress. Nevermore was her family, her home and her life's work. She'd do anything to protect it. Dating was hard for her, she wanted someone who would love and cherish the school in similar ways to her. Luckily when she appointed you as the new teacher for bounty, she found just that. The attraction for both of you had been instant. For you she was a stunningly tall goddess and you felt you paled in comparison, your sweet small almost nerdy disposition leaving you feeling slightly inadequate. But to her? You were absolutely perfect and she couldn't get you off her mind. For months you'd dance around each other not quite brave enough to ask the other on a date. But when you managed to pluck up that courage, you found it was the best thing you'd ever done. It gave you the most beautiful woman to call your own.

Maybe that's why you were so jealous, you saw here to easily be the most stunning human in any room, it was only natural others would be drawn to her too. But that didn't make it any easier. You knew she was yours and how loved you were by her. You felt completely secure in your relationship but the need to mark her as yours, claim her in some of the most carnal ways was often too much for you. An overwhelming need that you tried to push away not wanting to scare the women, hickeys in your line of work was a no go, well at least in visible places. But recently you'd worked out a different way.

As soon as you could you'd managed to drag her away for the night and take her to your shared quarters. As soon as the door was shut, your lips and hands were all over the headmistress who had absolutely no complaints in the actions whatsoever, even going as far to make everything easier to reach. Clearly for you this was a need and something she was more than happy to provide. She knew of your jealousy issues and how you often just needed to be made to feel secure and reminded of how loved you were.

It wasn't long before you'd completely stripped the headmistress of her clothing and walked her backwards till her knees hit the bed and she toppled onto her back. Your lips never left hers, her little moans and whines pleasing you as you focused on shifting a specific area of your body. "Rissa? Daddy has something for you, you gonna be good and take it for me?" You mumbled into her neck as you kisses up and down it nipping every now and then. Only then she realised what you had done, a loud needy whine left her, "daddy did you? Oh fuck" she whined as you stripped down to match her, your now impressive length standing to attention. The way Larissa's needy hungry eyes lingered over your new appendage added to your need to take her and take her now.

"Ris, you gonna be a good whore and take daddy's dick? Be my good girl" she mumbled against your breasts now, showering both with equal attention. "Be good so good please" she whimpered begging you instantly for what she wanted. Who were you to make her wait when she was such a good girl. You lined yourself up with her dripping core and slowly pushed your way in, her moaning at the intrusion as you stilled whispering words of praise as you placed one hand on the bed to steady yourself and the other up playing with her chest. "Please daddy please more" she whined and all you could do was give in to her pleads. "That's it sweet girl. Your taking me so well, feels so good Ris" you moaned back. This was addicting and you were sure it would happen again in the near future.

You could tell how needy she was when she came for you rather quickly, you helped her through it before slipping from her cunt and flipping you both over. You wanted her to ride you and she seemed to be on the same wavelength as you, happily moaning and moving to sink down on your dick. "Good girl, move sweet girl make daddy cum" you mumbled bring your mouth to her breast once more as she began to roll her hips.

You were close and you knew that, you couldn't help but feel that same carnal need to mark her. "Ris baby, can daddy breed you? Mark you make you mine?" You panted flushed with the efforts of helping her fuck herself against you.  Your cock stroking her walls as they fluttered around you. "Oh fuck daddy please daddy I'm yours" she whined and that was all the permission you needed. You fell first and Larissa straight after, you kept thrusting into her soaked hole until you were sure that she was finished. Slipping out of her and morphing back into your original state you quickly kept up to get a warm wet washcloth. Part of the routine, Larissa knew she had that time straight after to just be and you'd take care of her. A weird concept at the start, her usually dominant personality finding it hard to accept but now she couldn't get enough. After you finished cleaning her up, you crawled back up the bed to hold the woman you love, "you're mine Rissa no one else can have you" you murmured showering her in kisses. "Only yours y/n I love you so" she whispered before allowing sleep to claim her.

Word count~ 1023

[darkmaga-returns]

We shouldn’t read too much into the early voting results, but the numbers that we have gotten so far are so different from what we witnessed in 2020 that they are impossible to ignore.  Four years ago, Democrats completely and utterly dominated the early voting period, and many of the experts expected the same thing to happen again in 2024.  But that isn’t what we are seeing.  Instead, early voting for the Democrats is down, and early voting for the Republicans is way up.  More than 51 million people have already voted, and the data that we have about those votes is quite startling.

For example, just look at what is happening in North Carolina.  For the first time ever, Republicans actually have a lead during the early voting period…

More than 3 million people have already voted in early voting in North Carolina, which can be done via mail-in absentee ballot or via in-person locations around the state. Republicans, interestingly, for the first time ever actually lead the early vote–North Carolina provides the partisan breakdown and demographic data on early voters in the state–something they have done now for more than a week. This remarkably consistent GOP lead has shocked political observers, and comes as demographic data also suggests Democrats face serious issues in competing at the top of the ticket in the state. Black voter turnout is down approximately 3 percent from 2020, and about 1 percent more men than women, as compared with 2020, are voting in the state.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Democrats were supposed to build a lead during early voting that the Republicans would try to chase down on Election Day.

And many had been anticipating that turnout in the areas of North Carolina that were absolutely devastated by Hurricane Helene would be way down during the early voting period, but instead turnout is actually up…

A record-breaking 2.8 million people in North Carolina have cast early ballots – with tens of thousands of those votes coming out of the storm-ravaged west. As of last week, voters in the 25 counties in the FEMA-designated disaster area submitted 0.5 percent more ballots than they had in 2020.

One couple that lives in a part of the state that was hit really hard by Hurricane Helene said that they would “crawl over broken glass to vote for Trump”…

[maximumphilosopheranchor]

Security concerns and commercial interests attracted the Ottomans to the region. In particular they were interested in slaves. The slave trade had always been important in the region’s economy, but it now became dominant. The Ottoman Empire, whose Islamic laws allowed the enslavement only of non-Muslims and encouraged the emancipation of slaves, was always in need of free labor. The Noghays and the Crimean Tatars responded to the demand, expanding their slave-seeking expeditions to the lands north of the Pontic steppes and often going much deeper into Ukraine and southern Muscovy than the frontier areas. The slave trade supplemented the earnings that the Noghays obtained from animal husbandry and the Crimeans from both husbandry and settled forms of agriculture. Bad harvests generally translated into more raids to the north and more slaves shipped back to the Crimea. All five routes that the Tatars followed to the settled areas on their slave-seeking raids went through Ukraine. Two of them east of the Dniester led to western Podolia and then to Galicia; two on the other side of the Southern Buh River led to western Podolia and Volhynia, then again to Galicia; the last passed through what would become the Sloboda Ukraine region around Kharkiv to southern Muscovy. If the demand for cereals led to the incorporation of the Ukrainian lands of the sixteenth century into the Baltic trade, their connection to the Mediterranean trade was due largely to Tatar raiding for slaves. Ukrainians, who constituted an absolute majority of the population of the steppe borderlands north of the Black Sea and moved into the steppes in search of grain, became the main targets and victims of the Ottoman Empire’s slave-dependent economy. Ethnic Russians northeast of the Crimea were a close second. Michalon (Michael) the Lithuanian, a mid-sixteenth century author who visited e Crimea, described the scope of the slave trade by quoting from his conversation with a local Jew who, “seeing that our people were constantly being shipped there as captives in numbers too large to count, asked us whether our lands also teemed with people, and whence such innumerable mortals had come.” Estimates of the numbers of Ukrainians and Russians brought to the Crimean slave markets in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries vary from 1.5 million to 3 million. Children and adolescents brought the highest prices. The fates of the slaves differed. Most of the male slaves ended up on Ottoman galleys or working in the fields, while many women worked as domestics. Some got lucky, but only in a matter of speaking. Talented young men made careers in the Ottoman administration, but most of them were eunuchs. Some women were taken into the harems of the sultans and high Ottoman officials. One Ukrainian girl known in history as Roxolana became the wife of the most powerful of the Ottoman sultans, Suleiman the Magnificent, who ruled from 1520 to 1566. Her son became a sultan under the name Selim II. Under the name of Hürrem Sultan, Roxolana sponsored Muslim charities and funded the construction of some of the best examples of Ottoman architecture. Among these is the Haseki Hürrem Sultan Hamamı, a public bathhouse not far from Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, constructed by the best-known Ottoman architect, Mimar Sinan. In the course of the last two hundred years, Roxolana has figured as the heroine of novels and a number of television dramas in Ukraine and Turkey. To be sure, her life and career were the exception, not the rule. The Tatar attacks and the slave trade left deep scars in Ukrainian memory. The fate of the slaves was the subject of numerous dumas – Ukrainian epic songs that lamented the fate of the captives, described their attempts to escape from Crimean slavery, and glorified the men who saved and freed slaves. Those folk heroes were known as Cossacks. They fought the Tatars, undertook seagoing expeditions against the Ottomans, and, indeed, freed slaves from time to time.

Serhii Plokhy, The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine

[occult-roommates]

A new beginning to an old story

Around five days after their walk in the park, Athena felt ready to invite Akva to her new apartment. The reason it took so long is mostly because she needed to clean it first, and also for Akva to have some free time in between her retail job and flying lessons, but now it was time.

Athena: Tadah! Akva: Oh wow, congratulation on getting your own place. It's actually pretty decent. Athena: Why are you surprised by that? Akva: Cause like, have you seen my apartment? I live with six grown adults and one baby, but we only have two bedrooms but Charlie refuses to share hers except with the baby. We barely have enough space, privacy is like a foreign concept to me now after living like this for more than three years. Athena: I mean, I'm just saying, I only have one bedroom, but I think it's spacious enough I could get at least one roommates. Akva: Also, I was about to ask how you can afford it, but I mean, it's the spice district, most people in the area don't make that much money in the first place. Athena: That's because Paisley pays me good. Like I said, I could have a roommate to make it easier but I don't absolutely need one. Especially since in college I had one that must be from Hell. Like imagine a dude who refuses to shower more than once a week in spite of being a gym rat, would leave his dirty dishes everywhere to the point we had bugs infestation multiple times, and would punch holes into walls on a regular basis. Even had to bail him out of jail after a DUI with the money I needed to pay for a new computer. Oh and also he'd let his used condoms around the apartment as a way to assert dominance over my "beta" ass. Akva: Cause this guy was getting laid???!!!

Anyway, Athena kept showing Akva around the place. It wasn't that decorated to her personality yet, 50% because she couldn't afford it yet, 50% because the landlord wouldn't let her repaint that sickly green or move the furnitures around that much.

Then, the two women sat down on the couch to continue their little chat.

Athena: Fun fact, you can see by the window the exact place where that plane landed in the Myshun river a few years ago. Akva: Oh wow, that's cool. I remember recently, Ralf and I went to an aviation museum that's in southern New York in hope of seeing part of that plane, but turns out it's in North Carolina. We still had fun though, after the museum we went to eat at the shadiest roadside dinner known to man. Athena: Who are you talking about? Akva: Ralf is my new father figure, you should meet him, he is really nice.

Akva then leaned in for a hug. It felt good to finally have a close friend back in town. It felt even more special now that she knew Athena was actually happy and not just pretending. Though, it did messed her up that she literally had no idea what she was going through. Then again, in her defense, she was living on the other side of the country, even if Athena was visibly unhappy, she couldn't have known. Yeah, they did saw each other from time to time, like when they briefly dated which caused Akva to get pregnant, but still, she could have very well hid how she felt.

Akva: And you know, it would feel even more special if instead of introducing you to him as my friend...

Akva tapped her laps and told Athena to sit here, so she did. Now that they were in a more intimade position, step 2.

Akva: I'd introduce you as my girlfriend.

Athena looked at her all red and then, they made out on the couch, as the cameraman panned away as to not creep on them. Maybe their first attempt at dating did not ended up super well, and let's be real, ruined Akva's life for a year, but this time is the right time. Round 2 will be different, round 2 will have a happy ending.

Prev - Next

[anonymousdandelion]

B’Chol Dor VaDor

So, today’s writing prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial was “you’re not alone.”

I could only only think of one thing, and almost opted not to share the result. But here it is. Be aware that this is heavier and... rawer than my usual subject matter (although, I hope, also ultimately hopeful), and it is written in the context of rising antisemitism in the US and globally. It is particularly written in the context of the “Day of Hate” which Neo-Nazi groups are threatening for tomorrow.

It is also written in the context of a long, long history of suffering, and the past and present of a rich community that has survived and continues to survive through and despite all those who try to stop us.

Esther went to sleep that Friday night expecting to have nightmares. The subject that had hung over her all day — that she’d seen in the news first thing in the morning after washing her hands, and that had dominated discussion at the dinner table that evening, looming dark and ugly behind the flickering glow of the candles, underpinning her indecision about what to do the following day — seemed all but tailored to that effect.

Her anticipation proved well-founded.

They stormed through the synagogue, in her dream, armed with spraypaint and swastikas and guns. Stormed at her, her friends, her family…

She lost sight of them in the chaos and somehow ended up at the public library. There, Esther fled to the familiar children’s area, sure she’d blend in there or all places, with people all around and the safety and security she’d always felt amongst the books.

But even there, they came at her from behind the bookshelves, monsters that, even in dreaming, were terrifyingly human and real. The other library patrons turned away, said nothing, did nothing, until they eventually faded away entirely. The library backdrop faded, too. And then it was just her and them, caught in a dark, amorphous room with no escape.

Dirty Jew, they said to her, and hurled other slurs she’d never even heard spoken aloud. They hurled worse things, too, and there was no one who cared, absolutely no one…

She woke, heart pounding.

Or thought she did, until she looked around her and saw, lining the walls of her own bedroom… people. Several people. Some faces she knew, though she had seen them only long ago, or only in peeling pictures in old albums. Others Esther had never seen, yet felt she knew anyway.

Family, her heart sang, as much as it had cried Danger not long before.

I’m scared, she told the gathered people, though she knew it was not they that frightened her. I’m scared.

I know, Estele, said a rough, caring voice that Esther had last heard in a hospice room five years before. And one of the women came forward; pinched her cheek in the way that had always made Esther squirm. I was scared, too, zisele, when they came for us in the old country. Bubbie gestured at the group, and in the logicless way of dream-knowledge, Esther knew they were generations upon generations of her ancestors. We were all scared.

B’chol dor vador, said another voice from someone in the ring, in rhythm reminiscent of a familiar tune. Omdim aleinu v’chaloteinu…

Moishe! someone scolded him, when he stopped. You have to finish the verse! The last line is the most important part!

It’s not the part that’s relevant right now, argued another person.

Nu, I was going to get to it in a minute! Moishe complained, but someone else called out at the same time, What are you talking about? Of course it’s relevant! It’s always relevant! It’s the whole point!

It—

And the assembly in Esther’s dream-bedroom burst into energetic bickering; a sort of chaos and conflict completely different from the sort that had tormented the nightmare.

This chaos felt like home.

Incredibly, and with immense relief at the feeling, she found herself laughing.

Well, said her Bubbie wryly, we were supposed to give you a pep talk. To remind you you’re not alone. That our people have been through this in the past, that we got through it every time and that we will again. But—

Esther hugged her, and dream or no dream, it felt like a hug.

I mean it, Bubbie said sternly, squeezing back. You aren’t alone. And that’s true in the living world, too. Our community. They may come for us, may catch some of us… but always we outlive them in the end. They won’t win…

…There was sunlight on their faces, bright and insistent, and Esther awoke.

She lay in bed a minute, reflecting on her night and the vague images of dreams already flowing quietly away from her waking memory.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

Then she said modah ani, rose, got dressed, and went to shul with head held high, to join her community in facing whatever the day might hold.

[trekwiz]

I currently have a "desk job." I definitely couldn't handle retail, but my last role was a physical job.

As a streaming producer, most of my work included hauling heavy gear. Across a site; sometimes across state lines. And basically building a production space from scratch.

A lot of lifting, bending, crawling. Work in tight spaces: we had one setup with a curved desk fully against a wall, the same width as the room. Any time we had to replace a cable or add new gear, I had to crawl under the desk and squeeze into a standing position, between the desk and wall.

I got diagnosed with degenerative disk in my 30s from my career. That kind of physical work.

I like my desk job a lot better. But you can't just slot anyone into it. It doesn't require a credential; other companies prefer a PMP, but we don't. Broadcast is specialized experience, but classrooms and credentials are not the barrier.

Producers on the team who have background to understand it consider it to be overwhelming: they strongly do not want my job. I know, because I advocated for promoting internally when we had openings. They refused because of how difficult the work is.

We filled the roles with people who have experience in the same industry. They were "comfortable" after 3 months of training. That means they could lead projects mostly independently. 2 years later, they're still coming to me for direction on a weekly basis because a lot of our work is highly complex. For people who understand it.

If you pluck someone out of any other job to do it, they're going to fail; they'll leave if they don't get fired. And I mean that in both directions of the nonexistent scale of skilled vs unskilled work: you can't take a scientist out of the lab and have them do my job successfully. Medical doctors will fail much faster. I know this--they're among my clients who turn to me for guidance on the technologies I support.

We also had someone clueless in an "unskilled" desk position for about a year. This individual was absolutely not capable of handling "a basic desk job." They're directly responsible for the success I've had in re-positioning the role as a skilled position.

They were a complete and total disaster in the role; they actively made everyone else's job more difficult and unpleasant. Their peer had to fix upwards of 80% of their work. They wouldn't communicate about their progress, so others missed deadlines--you don't get a do-over in live broadcast, so that greatly increased everyone's stress. Clients would get incorrect information and complain on a regular basis.

They would refuse to fix problems, and make the false claim that they did it correctly, even if their error was openly visible with their signature on it.

This person received personal training for months, written step-by-step documentation of their process, and performed the same tasks every day. But they'd complain or refuse the work if someone else in a different functional area wouldn't give them the exact step-by-step instructions to complete the same basic tasks each time.

The idea that just anyone is capable of doing "a desk job" is based on not knowing what constitutes "a desk job."

I would also add that the entry level desk jobs most likely to have their skill trivialized in this way are administrative assistants. It's a career that is still largely dominated by women; their employers significantly undervalue and underpay their skilled labor already. There are outliers, but this typically an undervalued position.

The amount of time management and organizational skills needed to do that role successfully often goes unnoticed. They need specific people-skills to encourage colleagues and vendors to do work outside of their norm, and to smooth over scheduling mishaps. They require great communication skills that not everyone has.

Trivializing the skill it takes to do their job helps keep them at the bottom of the pay scale. And importantly. Doing that doesn't lift up anyone else, except for the highly paid executives who are pocketing the saved labor costs.

[classicsubliminalbo]

Elsa at the Fleur-de-lis Fashion Show

Originally published Nov 17, 2015 This series has been retconed

Don't miss The Fleur-de-lis Fashion Show, only on CBS; America's number one network for lowbrow TV-14 porn!

Elsa felt groggy as she came back to life. It was the first moment of clarity that she had experienced in months, and in those first few seconds she tried to piece together what had happened, how she had ended up here. It was hard to recall anything, given her current circumstance: she was stuffed into a small booth, not unlike the kinds you would have your photo taken in. Where there would normally be a camera there was a small television screen, and around Elsa's neck were a large pair of headphones. Elsa was naked, sweaty, her heart pounding faster than a mouse running a 10k. Her fingers were still instinctively working her moist pussy, and though she wanted to stop the remnants of her conditioning told her to continue. The screen was still captivating, but without the personalized conditioning track playing in her ears, drowning all possibility of willful thought, Elsa was able to fight the brainwashing that had claimed so many other models before. The same program that had dominated her so many times before. Vague memories came flooding back to her--the day she signed her contract, the first time she sat before this same video, completely surrendered her will over to the Goddess Maxwell.

Goddess Maxwell, a long moan escaped Elsa's lips as she thought the name of the woman who owned her. The Goddess would want me to put my headphones back on. The Goddess would want her to finish the program. Elsa's body was on fire as she pleasured herself, imagining how wonderful it would feel to surrender once again, visualizing the reward she would receive. All she had to do was slip those headphones back over her ears. But there was something awakening in Elsa's mind. A thought: this might be her only chance to escape. It was just enough resistance for Elsa to quit masturbating, and hesitantly she slid the booth's pink curtain and stepped out into the real world. Elsa turned around to see that she had been sitting in just one of a whole row of booths, a brainwashing station for all of the models taking part in the show. Above the booth she had exited: Elsa H. A chill ran down her spine as she recognized the familiar moans of her fellow models behind their curtains. She knew she had to run, but curiosity was always trying to get the better of her.

The booth next to Elsa's was labeled "Candice S.," and when she pulled back the curtain she found Candice violently convulsing in absolute obedient bliss. "Yes!" Candice cried. "Obey! Will...Obey! Goddess, yes!" Elsa watched with horrified fascination as the orgasms piled on top of Candice, knowing that she had been experiencing a similar kind of mania just a few minutes earlier. Perhaps, Elsa thought, her orgasms had been so violent that they knocked her headphones loose, freeing her from the trance. Candice, meanwhile, had fallen limp, her eyes staring vacantly at the television screen, mouth hung open as drool dripped down over her breasts.

Elsa stumbled away from the booths, wandering around the backstage area as she tried to find an exit. Her legs were like jello as she battled the lingering effects of her brainwashing. If anyone were to spot her, they would certainly send her back to her booth, so Elsa made a plan to act natural. And natural around here meant vacant and compliant. But it was hard to convince anyone when she was completely naked and had the motor control of a toddler. She tried to use the curtain to maintain her balance, but lost her grip and toppled to the floor.

"Oh, thank goodness!" When Elsa sat up she saw two women standing before her: Stephanie, the intern in charge of the brainwashing station, and Candice, fresh from her conditioning. "I would have been so fired if I lost you," Stephanie breathed, no doubt worried that she'd be subjugated to Maxwell's brainwashing program like last year's intern. "Honestly, I thought if one of you escaped it would be Miranda, like last year...you've always been such a good girl, Elsa."

"No," Elsa whispered as she realized Stephanie was holding a pair of headphones in her hand. "No, please," She tried to crawl away, but her energy was depleted.

Stephanie closed in fast, and while Elsa tried to plead, Candice tried to rationalize in her own slave-like way. "We belong to Goddess Maxwell, Elsa. She gives us purpose. We are Fleur-de-lis."

"No!" Tears streamed down Elsa's cheek. "I don't want to be a slave anymore! I want to be me! I want to be," The headphones were secured around Elsa's ears, and the outside was fading away once again as the orders became her world. "Me...want to be...m...me..." Elsa didn't even have to masturbate this time; she had Candice to help her along.

"I am...Fleur-de-lis..." Elsa moaned. "I belong...to Goddess...Maxwell..."

[941injapan]

May 29th --- Shibuya and Harajuku + Meiji

Today we went to Shibuya and Harajuku, as well as the Meiji shrine. Something I picked up yesterday was just how advanced the fashion game is here in Japan. I was expecting designer brands, one of those cases of flexing wealth by wearing it on your body, but I was quite mistaken. I saw so many people, especially women, with so many different cuts and materials and styles and themes, it was honestly quite refreshing as if these people were some sort of character. I can see how global influences congregate here in Shibuya, as the Japanese as a people act as free worldwide marketing by pursuing such fashion. Harajuku is ground zero for new fashion that hasn't made trending status yet, and I was happy to see all of these people looking for new ways to express themselves in Japan. From a broader perspective, I think that Japan, especially its young people, seek identity and find solace by expressing everything you need to know in one glance. In a population as dense as Tokyo, what makes any 1 person stand out in that sea of humans? That answer might lie in how the Japanese dress and choose to show their identity. Another thing I wanted to note was just how cool the Meiji Jingu shrine and stadium were. Having such a lush and green space in the middle of the city was absolutely insane to see. The sake barrels were an interesting touch, and the main temple area was ornate and grand. Something that crossed my mind thinking about the Meiji Stadium was the 2020 Olympics. Back at home, I have an Adidas shirt I found on clearance that celebrated the 2020 Olympics, but it never really happened. I wonder, since the impact of this stadium’s construction and many more riveted the world with state-of-the-art architecture, I wonder what the world would have done had the 2020 Olympics taken place. Would Japan’s foreign recognition grow just as much with that influx of people for the games, or would have it had no effect? I guess we will never know.

In the readings, the book talks about the concept of “soft power” and Japan’s image abroad. I think this concept is very interesting, and this power has grown substantially in the past 5-6 years. Soft power describes a non-military or physical influence on world affairs. Japan, among its normal economic goods, produces a worldwide desired product in the form of ideas, stories, and fashion. These things have effects that reach us in America from thousands of miles away. As for the many scholarly opinions on Japan's image of cute/cool cultural influence, I find many of the book’s differing points to be valid. On one hand, you have a culture dominated by things that are cute and feminine, which many people of the world love, which then brings in money and the market. Yet, this image may lead some to think Japan is weak, which is unhealthy, especially for a group so homogenous here in Japan. It seems Japan is at a turning point once again, deciding if it wishes to exercise this soft power, or bolster nationality and strength, per its more traditional beliefs mentioned in the Japanese history reading for today.

Once again, pictures are in the document!

[doctornanitesreblogs]

It's a myth that women in the past didn't have jobs. Everything you know is wrong.

So i've heard it time and time and time and time again that women in the past didn't have jobs. As a history buff who reads non fiction about history all day every day I can tell you this simply isn't true. I have come across story after story of women having jobs in the middle ages, 1700s and 1800s and throughout the 20ths century. The image of the "angel of the house" was very much a middle-class ideal and not a working-class reality. Economics dictated that not only both parents but in most cases the children as well needed to work.  The reality for many working-class families of the 19th century was that it was absolutely essential for the wife to work, and to work hard. The days of the 9-5 were decades away; instead many worked on average 12-15 hours a day, every day, and not just in what we might consider "normal" women's jobs such as domestic service, charwoman, laundress or shirt-maker.  On the contrary, in districts of Norwich, for example, more than 50% of women who are recorded as having a job are married. In towns in East Anglia and in London on average more than 30% of married women are recorded as working, and this matches with what other historical records can show us. Women wanted to work but were often pushed out of the workforce when new laws were passed. Married women, in particular, were vilified for being employed during the Great Depression, since the assumption at the time was that they were already provided for by a spouse. In fact, many businesses outright banned married women from working, and in 1932, even the federal government intervened, decreeing that only one spouse could work a government job at any given time; by 1940, twenty-six states also limited the employment of married women in government jobs. The federal bill was repealed just five years later—but by then, countless women had already given up their jobs. Women even had jobs in the middle ages

Records of women who worked in towns include, but are not limited to, the following occupations: hat-making, cobbling, glover-making, girdle-making, haberdashery, embroidering, purse-making, cap knitting, spinning and silk weaving. They were involved in the food industry in the areas of brewing of ale, butchery, innkeeping, selling garlic, fresh bread, flour, salt, candles, butter, cheese, fish and poultry. While many of the textile arts were dominated by men, embroidery seems to have a larger percentage of women workers than other guilds. Records from the very end of the 13th century show that of the 94 registered embroiderers in Paris, 79 were women.

It may come as a surprise to some that women were also employed as chandeliers, iron mongers, smiths, goldsmiths, skinners, bookbinders, painters, spicers and farriers. Possibly these were widows who were able to carry on their husband's trade. Shown at right is a woman blacksmith or farrier at work from the Holstein Bible from the 1330s.

Source 1 Source 2 Source 3

[rettaroo]

I work in a small 17th century US colonial history museum. I love my job bc our area of focus is something that doesn't get enough attention, but we have great documentation of people's stories. And a wide variety of people, too! Rich/poor, free/enslaved, abled/disabled, a wide variety of careers, races, national origins, religions, languages, etc. Tons of details of people's individual lives. It's great.

But if there's one thing we're severely lacking in, it's queer/trans stories. Does that mean there weren't queer/trans folks here? Absolutely not!!

The reason we don't have a lot of examples in my particular area of expertise, the colony I study, is evidenced by the few we do have. We have two examples of confirmed same sex sexual relationships in the colony; both resulted in death sentences for the people involved. And the one (sort of) example we have of someone "crossdressing"? The person in question faced immediate legal reprocussions, and ended up explaining it had been a mistake due to a cultural misunderstanding about clothes and gender expression in the dominant culture of the colony; "sorry, i'm a foreigner, I didn't realize those types of clothes were only for women here!" Whether that was true, or if it just gave them enough plausible deniability to escape the situation safely, isn't fully clear.

People definitely experienced same sex attraction, gender dysphoria, etc, at that time. But it was so heavily policed, and so culturally feared/misunderstood, and so completely deadly if it came to light, that no one dared to engage with it publically, or leave any evidence. That doesn't mean they weren't there, or that they didn't privately have same sex relationships among people they could trust. A "straight" couple might be a pair of beards that have each I others backs; someone that never had kids could be infertile, or they might be intersex, or trans; any number of people probably experienced whatever queer desires but couldn't explore it because it wasn't safe. We don't know those details, because many knew well enough that they had to hide them for their own survival.