#please dont perceive me

[hart-on-my-sleeve]

10 3 1987 - Macho Man vs Honky Tonk Man w/ Jimmy Hart (End)

I'm gonna be filthy below the cut HAHA-

But like??? this??? gentle cradle? eepy boi-

sleep well, beautiful princess

I'm just uh saving these for drawing references. yup. def not paying attention to the completely mussed up hair and his adorable face from this angle nope nope nope nope-

SACK OF POTATOS, BOIS. Also bret is making it look like they're kidnapping him.... and how many times does he get just slung over people's shoulders???

anyways

um

[melt emoji x20]

[magpiemarble]

literally anyone: [insert r0//bl0x game] gooners are so weird!! thats a pile of blocks, who’s getting turned on by that??

me; the humble selfshipper:

[tfg-16-art]

Don't ask me why I drew this cos I have no idea

[rose-tinted-vision]

9 Fandom Peeps To Get To Know Better:

Thank you for the tag @randomingoftherandomness :D

3 Ships You Like: all time ships? OOQ, Zosan and ShiGuang

First Ship Ever: BokuAka

Last Song You Heard: Does it count if I'm currently listening to music? Halazia by Ateez. I don't care if it's been a year, it's still a banger and Yeosang sounds so good in it 🥹

Favourite Childhood Book: It's a toss up between Matilda by Roald Dahl and the St Clare's series by Enid Blyton

Currently Reading: Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo (re-read, since it's a huge favorite of mine ^^)

Currently Watching: Technically still watching Tomb of the Sea...but I stopped a few weeks ago and haven't continued oops

Currently Consuming: water, since I'm trying to break my caffeine addiction. The coffee has not done anything good for my throat.

Currently Craving: Toast!! some good old kaya toast with milk tea.

Tagging: @blonde-batgirl @daydreamingoncloud9 @flamingwell @labseraph @wuxia-vanlifer @zishuge @archivistea @evolutionsbedingt

[mae-occasionally-reads]

sometimes i disassociate so far from my name that people say it and i just don’t at all register that they’re talking to me

it’s becoming an issue

[glsneeg-enthusiast]

wuh oh someone i dont know saw that rant

[all-da-ladies-luv-leoo]

i hate those greeting cards that say “thinking of you” like okay? please dont?

[jegulily-stuff]

Do you have fancasts!?! Like specifically I'd love to know who's closest to how you imagine

-Reg

-Lily

-James

-Dorcas

-Marlene

(and any others ofc!!) Xx

i actually really hate fancasts, celebrities and otherwise. real people shouldnt be involved when im thinking about my faves in my head 😔

but i do have some favourite art:

Reg (also) (also) (and another) and more too probably

Lily (also) maluceh in general is peak lily (and)

James (also)

Dorcas (also) (and)

Marlene (also) and same as Dorcas

[unmannedflyingdeskset1]

I was perceived today. 0/10 would not recommend

[honeymoss666]

[narcisseart]

How it started.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto’s been staring at you for a good 5 minutes now.

you’d figured he was zoning out about three minutes in but then you looked up from your homework at him and he smiled at you, that cute little loverboy smile he does that have your legs feeling like jelly and has your heart push against your chest like it wants to escape.

okay so he wasn’t zoning out. then what is it ? did you have something on your face ? was he waiting for you to say something ?

"is there something on my face ?" you blurt out, already wiping at your chin and around your mouth

he blinks, registering your question and his eyebrows furrow lightly “no, there isn’t.” he answers curtly. reaching his colder hand up to pull your hand away from your face. you’re so much more confused now that you fail to realize he held onto your hand for a moment longer than necessary.

“so then why are you staring at me ?”

he lightly tilts his head to side at that, looking at you questioningly “ why should i not be looking at you ? does it bother you ?”

“wh—no no !” you sputter, he’s flipped the tables on you now “ i was just wondering what was up because you’ve been staring for..a while now” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. his eyes widen just a fraction and you think maybe you got it all wrong somehow and he was zoning out, but then he’s lowering his head in shame “i’m sorry, yn. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my staring..” he apologizes.

you’re frantic, shaking your head so hard you fear you’ll twist your neck and waving your hands hurriedly “ no, no, no ! it’s okay, sho ! you didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything !” you feel relieved when the tension on his face dissolves the slightest bit “ i was just curious, that’s all” you sigh, your arms fly back next to you because you feel like your sweating buckets and you really don’t want him seeing pit stains.

he hums like he’s thinking about something then suddenly a small smile breaks onto his face and you feel like you’ve been hit dead on by a semi truck. shoto todoroki’s ability to be so effortlessly pretty is and will forever be an enigma to you. “ i like looking at you” he starts “ whenever you do mundane things like studying, you always have this look on your face. i like it, i think it’s cute.”

okay, so turns he was out to kill you.

“ i-i do ?” he responds with a simple “mhm”. you feel like you’re sweating a lot more.

“oh.” is all you say. it’s all you can say because what the hell were you supposed to say ?!

shoto doesn’t look all that bothered by it, cool as usual, simply opting to keep staring at you. you fiddle with your fingers for a bit before you lift your head up to meet his unwavering stare “ i—uhm—thank you.” you whisper. he shakes his head “don’t thank me, you don’t have to. if you want me to stop, i can try to.”

he can try to. you feel like you’re losing your mind.

you’re way beyond flustered now. todoroki’s not a man of many words but when he does use them it throws you for a complete loop, you feel like you’re on a rollercoaster. “no that’s fine.” you answer meekly.

“you’re sure ?” you nod and he hums. “okay then, if you don’t mind.”

“it’s fine” you confirm, feeling your face heat up. “i like looking at you, too.”

you definitely like looking at the handsome smile that forms on his face from your words.

[meowrimo]

red lipstick stains litter all over your body, an act of fervent love — obsession that consumed the man below you. his long tongue laps at your core, diving deep into places most couldn’t reach, curling every which way to coax out yet another orgasm from you.

there was no separating eustass kid from your poor, overstimulated cunt when he was like this. even with just one hand, he has an iron grip on your waist that pins you underneath him, caught in his trap.

everything with kid was brash, messy and barely left you any time to think. the captain of the kid pirates was domineering to say the least, capable of always getting what he wants one way or another.

and after you had climaxed on his awaiting tongue, trembling against the sheets and singing his name so beautifully, he decided he wanted more. he grants you one small act of mercy, a rarity that he will expect your unending gratitude later when he finally sinks his cock into you and fucks you the way you were made to.

but for now, he claws at the contours of your curves, marking your body up even more as his lipstick smears off of his lips with each sinful bite along your stained skin. with a wickedly dangerous glint in his eyes, he leaves one final nip with a growl of approval.

unable to fully let you go, his hand slides back down to where you were still convulsing in a pool of your own arousal and slips a large digit in to relish the way your throb around him, pitifully mewling out his name.

“give me another.” he demands, a low and guttural tone that was made to shrivel you deeper into the mattress and submit to his every desire. and what he sought was fucking you dumb with his big, arrogant mouth until the only thought left in your pretty little head was him. “and then i’ll give you what you really want.”

[blamemma]

"Maybe Daniel could wear my worn underwear after a race" emma i can't beliebe what i'm seeing. i can't believe max verstappen is beating us at this (writing daniel ricciardo fic)

okay. but what if we combined max saying that wild quote and this post i tagged as daniel the other day and created....fic...

cw: feminisation of both, kinda dubious consent <3

Daniel opens Max's drivers room door quickly, no secrets between them in their second year as team mates, PR bags slung in each others rooms, and mix ups of laundry scattered throughout their now shared-spaces. Max was used to these interruptions from Daniel, fond of them mainly. But it was that one fateful day, during the briefest of moments, Daniel's eyes wandered upon a soul-altering sight. Before him, the edge of lacy pure white knickers were peeking above the waist of Max's cream fireproofs. As he stares further, and his jaw opens wider, he begins to make out the imprint of them through Max's fireproofs, the way they curved around the cheek of Max's arse.

"Yes, Daniel," Max says, averting Daniel's attention quickly back to his face, blinking hard, trying to feign innocence over what he had just seen. It is only Max's upper body that has swivelled to address Daniel, his arms still suspended in his backpack, something Daniel is grateful for because he doesn't think he'd be strong enough to not look any lower. "Is it your socks you are looking for this time? Or maybe your Magnum condoms? Your stupid trainer tells you it is better if you do not have sex until after the races, doesn't he, so maybe I should keep ahold of them for safe keeping so you are not tempted."

Daniel feels ruffled, no quick quip back for Max on his tongue. His mind is running over the image of Max's lacy white underwear. Thoughts of his dick tucked up neatly at the front. Daniel's speeding towards the tyre barrier, hands gripping the steering wheel tight, Rolex sponsorship banners replaced by the image of Max in lingerie as he approaches at full throttle.

"Yeah, probably, yeah, keep them Max." Daniel retorts, the words stumbling out of his mouth as he exits out of the room, floundering backwards fast. He catches the smallest of glimpses of Max's face once more, a quizzical look raised in his eyebrows, and allows himself one last look lower, as he pulls the door towards him, closed.

---

They win. He wins, and Max stands below him on the podium, and they win. Red Bull and Daniel and Max. He watches as Max holds his trophy aloft, feels the burn through his arms as he lifts his own higher and prouder. Slams his champagne onto the ground and soaks Max, soaks himself, feels the cold wetness down his back, feels it seep into his underwear. Drinks from the bottle. Undresses his foot. Takes the shoe into his hand and pours. Lifts it high above his head, higher than the trophy, and then lets it pour from above him. Into his mouth, across his face, down his racesuit. Looks across at Max, his mouth wide open, agape, tongue barely contained. Raises his shoe slightly, a question, silent but deadly, and Max nods. Daniel slows down. Steadies his hand. Pours and pours, fills the shoe up once more, then hands it across to Max. The slightest graze of soft wet fingertips against his own, and the shoe is out of his hand. He stares, longer than he should, and Max looks back, gaze never breaking until the dark blue of Daniel's shoe forces itself between them. Max drinks, neck held back, bare, every last drop seeping from the shoe, into his mouth, down his chin, through his race suit. Daniel thinks about a singular droplet running all the way down to Max's underwear. Soaking him where it matters.

---

"Maybe Daniel could wear my worn underwear after a race." Max says to the reporters, his eyes scrunching up in glee as he waits for the man in front of him to laugh at his joke. He never does. Daniel wants to punch him.

Daniel had finished media first, perks of being the winner, cutting the queue and demanding everyone's attention when you enter the room. He leans against the door, as Max sits at the head of the table now, cameras and microphones and dictaphones all pointed in his direction. He didn't hear the question, only the answer. Maybe Daniel could wear my worn underwear after a race. Daniel swallows the thoughts consuming him, rubs his crotch hard as he stalks down the corridors of Red Bull hospitality, and storms into his drivers room, waiting until he hears the similar click of a door closing from Max's room next door. He doesn't will his boner away, sits with it, sits with his thoughts. He won. He gets to indulge today. He gets to drink copious amounts of champagne, take back shots of questionable liquids shoved into his hands in the club, eat greasy pizza afterwards to settle his stomach, make out with whoever he wants, take one or two of them back home to his hotel room. He gets to indulge.

The muted click next door is like Pavlov's Dog, Daniel immediately up and onto his feet, ignoring the dizzying feeling in his head at the imbalance of blood in his body, storming into Max's room, and quickly locking it behind him. Max's champagne bottle is still gripped in his hand.

"Take your race suit off." Daniel demands. He won. He gets this. Max stares at him for a beat too long, his face unreadable to Daniel, until he slowly places the champagne bottle down on the table, breaking his velcro and slowly undoing his zip, before carefully stepping out of his suit, never once breaking eye contact with Daniel, challenging. Daniel won the race. He's more than happy to lose in here. He breaks eye contact and flickers his gaze downwards. The shirt of Max's fireproof has ridden up slightly, and peeking above the waist line of his trousers is petalled lace, a baby blue bow sitting in the middle.

"Your fireproofs. Take them off as well." Daniel says, his tone softer this time, giving Max the option to deny him. Max peels his shirt off first, revealing his pale sculpted chest, red puffy nipples, wet with sweat and soaked through champagne. Daniel grabs the champagne bottle away from Max, raising it to his own lips and swallowing. Liquid courage. When he lowers the bottle, Max is bent over, pulling the tight fabric over his feet. He stands straight once more, and stretching his arm forward, grabbing the champagne bottle back from Daniel, taking his own sip.

Daniel takes him in slowly, the curve of his tits, the hard shape of his stomach, the dip of his hips. He feels his mouth salivate when he reaches Max's dick. Neatly packed away, underneath tight baby blue lace.

"Being on the podium doesn't make you hard?" Daniel asks, cocky but disappointed Max is soft when Daniel is trying his hardest not to rip off his own race suit and relieve himself all over Max.

"Yes. I already dealt with it." Max responds, stoic.

"When?"

"During your interviews, in here. Quickly."

"In those?" Daniel quizzes, quirking an eyebrow towards Max's lingerie.

"Yes, Daniel." Max responds. Daniel's breath stops in his throat, and he chokes slightly, coughing to cover up his surprise. He moves quick then, doesn't let himself think any longer, gives into everything he wants. Everything he deserves. He removes the layers of his own clothing, nearly ripping the Nomex off his body into pieces so he can get to what he wants quicker. He stands there before Max, panting, lets him look for a bit, rake his eyes over Daniel's body. He knows he looks good. He knows Max likes to stare and indulge. He's caught him doing so before.

"Now what?" Max asks, breaking the silence sat between them.

Daniel begins to remove his patterned boxers, off his body, his dick hard, swinging upwards when its released, scarlet red, balls drawn tight. He watches as Max licks his lips. He strokes it once, his head falling back as a gasp leaves his lips, too much but not enough, twice, and then leaves it, removes his hand, locking his gaze with Max once more.

"Your turn." He demands, and holds his hand out waiting. Max tentatively steps out of the lingerie and Daniel watches as his soft dick drops, tiny pieces of dried cum stuck to his dick. Max deposits the underwear into Daniel's hand and Daniel climbs into them straight away, doesn't think, just does, hurtling into the tyre barrier.

"Daniel," Max whines, as he watches on, palming his own dick now. "Please."

Daniel hitches the underwear onto his hips and looks down at himself, at the obscene way the head of his dick sits above the waistband, pre-cum glistening over the top of it, dripping down over the bow, hopefully, eventually mixing with Max's own that has gathered and dried.

"Daniel." Max says again, his voice desperate, the only sound now in the room Max's dry hand jerking off his dick.

The tension is the room is suffocating, every vein of Daniel's on fire, rocketing him towards Max's body. But Daniel knows what he wants. Filth, want, regret. He likes the game. He likes the tease. He likes to win. He pulls his own race suit back onto his body, gathering the fireproofs off the floor, leaving his own boxers on the floor of Max's drivers room.

"Come and find me in the club later." Daniel says, exiting Max's room. "Bring the condoms. Don't shower."

"As long as you also don't," Daniel hears as the door clicks shut once more.

[thegayknee]

Going through the murderbot show tag and I'm kinda upset by how many people are saying that the Gurathin scene was creepy, unnecessary, look how they massacred my boy etc etc

Like instead of thinking hey, maybe this is character who is under a lot of stress and feels fundamentally different from his peers and is desperately trying to connect but it's just not fucking working. And under the circumstances going off to be alone and take comfort in the scent of another person, someone you care about who isn't here right now and who you're worried about is a perfectly understandable thing to do

Instead of doing that, they're all ew he sniffed her pillow how creepy what a pervert

I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. People can't even give grace to a fictional character doing something that harms no one

That scene wasn't creepy. It wasn't cringey. It was fucking heartbreaking. And honestly? That scene made me fall in love with Gurathin as a character

He's so fucking alone and I get it, I fucking get it

[lover-of-mine]

Buddie Countdown to Season 8:

31 days.