#top me pls

[jeannemoreau]

• Favorite female performances [20/?] “My love. I just want you to know that I'm not that monster, you know. Everything you hear in the trial it's just.. it's twisted. It wasn't like that.” SANDRA HÜLLER as Sandra Voyter in — ANATOMY OF A FALL (2023) dir. Justine Triet

[thirstydiglett]

I just started watching Sailor Moon (it was supposed to be background noise while I write) but I think I may need to start a DEEPLY homoerotic Mako appreciation blog

Look

At

This

WOMAN

[housecow]

y’all see those stretchmarks on my love handles… i can’t even see them without having to hold my boobs back 🥲

[pancakemolybdenum]

you know that one vento aureo volume cover with the pose

[goodishgirlx]

💕 doms who praise you when you express your limits 💕

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: babies!!!! you’re also referred to as “ma” once

okay but like,,,,,first time dad Bakugou giving his baby their first bath after coming home!!! you’re fluttering around the kitchen, trying to make sure you have your daughters towel ready, her baby safe soap, a tiny washcloth, that her teeny tiny pajamas are in the dryer.

it’s only when you take a second to ask Bakugou something do you finally just—pause. your gaze instantly softens, a lovesick smile inching on your face as you watch your big buff pro hero husband hunch over the kitchen sink.

your daughter is resting in the baby bath seat, lilac colored and reclined back. she squirms when Bakugou lets the warm water run over her naked, fat little belly. her face scrunches at the new sensation, fists balling up against her chest. he coos at her, gentle,

“I know, ya little princess. Feels weird on ya, doesn’t it?” he asks her, voice so small under the running water. he cups his hand, holds a handful of water, tilts her fat cheek up to let it slide in her neck rolls that always smell like milk. she whines at that, sniffles and hiccups before she cries. you go to take a step forward, to console her, but Bakugou is so patient.

“It’s alright,” he kisses her tears away. “Daddy’s just tryna help you.” he runs the water all over her body, and paired with his softly spoken words, does she finally quiet after a few seconds. her little body trembles with the aftermath, pouty lips puffy and he can’t help but smooth his hand over the softness of her face.

“Yer a crybaby, just like your ma.” he whispers to her, grinning when that breaks you out of your stupor to smack him on the shoulder. you both laugh at that, and you finally feel the peace that is your little family. you lean against Bakugou’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his jaw before looking at your daughter again.

“You’re gonna be a great dad,” you mumble into his skin. he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his shuddering breath, and the calmness that blankets the rest of your house.

[flappingdragon]

⚠️NSFW Ahead⚠️

Another random thought but, what if MC has a thing for Lucifer's thighs and/or legs in general?

I like to imagine that MC would just casually walk up to Lucifer in private and just slap or squeeze a thigh and Lucifer would look at MC like "🤨" but he hides the fact that he actually enjoys it

And he definitely enjoys it when MC pulls him into their lap and just holds him close. But of course that's not all they're going to do

MC would also run their hands up and down his thighs, sometimes getting adventurous and straying towards the inner thighs and Lucifer can't help but be so flustered

And when it comes closer to midnight, MC will worship Lucifer's legs

They'll start kissing up and down his bare skin, watching and enjoying the looks and sounds coming from the demon under them. The way his face gets flushed over time and the way Lucifer get more excited sends MC into a frenzy

Then they would start leaving their marks on him. Biting, sucking, licking, nibbling, you name it. You can bet that Lucifer's legs are going to be littered with bite marks and hickeys after MC's done with him

And when morning comes, Lucifer's thighs are chewed to shit, he's extremely sore, and he's exhausted. But he couldn't be any more happy when he see's MC sleeping so soundly right next to him

Perhaps he might just call for a day off...

[icaruien]

more nanami content with top male reader pls 😩😩

You've got it, Captain!

Nanami Kento was a man on the run.

It was an inescapable hell of his own making. The ghosts of his youth and his failures were a perpetual monster clinging onto his shoulders, curses designated just for him. Kento did not make a habit of being a coward, but he could not afford staying in a place like this.

So, he ran.

He ran, and ran, and ran and he kept on running until Time became a loose construct that could not suspend him; until Space became a volatile concept that could not keep him afloat. The Universe was at a constant state of expansion, and Kento ran as if he was trying to see how far it would go.

('It expands a pretty damn long way,' was what Kento would answer if he were asked that question. But no one did, no one was ever given the chance to. Kento always ran before they could stop him just long enough to ask.)

So, it must be some big cosmic joke that Kento found himself landed back here once again, at the centre of your gravity, pulled in and desperately trying to pull away from the boundaries of your magnetic field. You were his best friend, his favourite What If, his greatest Could Have Been.

You were not supposed to be here, buried hilt deep inside of him and moaning out his name as if it was a prayer worth worship over.

His nails dug into the skin on your back, threatening to break through and into the flesh, but you didn't seem to mind. Your mouth was still on his skin, teeth painting yearning all over the canvas of his skin in shades of purples and blues.

Fuck, he hadn't done missionary in so long. Hell, he hadn't even had anyone like this in a long time. He was always too cautious, too hesitant of what he would reveal. But it was you—you with your charming smile and bright eyes—and if Kento couldn't trust you with himself, then he couldn't trust anyone; not even himself.

Kento should be self-conscious. He had changed across the years since he had left you—gotten better; gotten worse. He was not the boy you knew, then. He had grown out of it, grown into it, grown up into something else entirely.

But you smiled at him the same, held him the same, and he could not find it in himself to grieve the boy he used to be.

Kento had become Schrödinger's Cat, trapped in his youth and in his present. You kissed him the same, but you fucked him different. You cradled his face the same, but your cock dragged against his walls. You liked him the same, but you loved him different.

Kento's back arched, feeling the tip of your cock hit his prostate, and he found he didn't mind it at all. He didn't mind it a single bit as long as you kept painting stars in the dark abyss behind his eyes. He didn't mind it a single bit as long as you kept fucking him as if he was a man precious, a man loved. He didn't mind it a single fucking bit as long as you would just—

"Kento." Your voice was ragged, fucked out, high off endorphins and adrenaline and sex and him. "Fuck, Kento, you feel so good."

And Kento couldn't say a damn thing back, because you were inside him, fucking him good, making him shake, and for a moment, Kento wasn't running anymore. He wasn't running, and he was neither here or there, but he was still in your arms. He still had you.

"Come on," he grunted. His arms tightened around you, forcing your body closer against him. "I wanna feel you."

He felt your breath fan against his skin, soft and incredulous, but you indulged. Your pace picked up, hands wandering from his hips up his chest over to cradle his jaw. Your mouth met his in a sloppy kiss—all tongue and teeth—while your hips snap against him harder.

Kento could barely think, pre-occupied by the feeling of your cock fucking against him, hard and rough, damnation and salvation all at once. You didn't seem to mind, though; tongue fucking into his mouth in rhythm with the way your hips moved.

Kento was not a religious man, but he would believe in the existence of god just for a moment; just for you, just because of you.

Kento didn't believe that he could be saved, but he would like to be for a split-second. He wanted to be divine, wanted to be beautiful all over again, if only so that you would not have to stain yourself with his filth. So that he could have you, over and over again, and there would be no sin in the act of it.

"Kento," you murmured against his skin, as if you still couldn't believe he was quite real. He let out an ugly sound at the way you spoke his name; half a sob, half a whimper. "Kento. God, Kento. You're finally here. I've missed you."

But for now—

For now, perhaps, he could have you. For however short the while, for however mortal the moment is.

[puppyeared]

delphox that you find on the side of a van

[wisteriagoesvroom]

happy "breaching the top 10 f1 rpf pairings on ao3" day to landoscar nation 🎂 because it's all about.... two people that are so much the same yet so different. australia vs the uk. oscar's cool collected calm versus lando's ricocheting personality. twitch streams and side hustles and multiple endeavors vs singlemindedness of racing. purity of craft vs embracing everything life throws at you and trusting that it'll all work out. the rivalry that isn't (well it is, but not really). pushing each other to be better. making heart eyes in a taylor swift video, reaching out to your teammate in silverstone after surviving a media maelstrom and him being pleased and stepping closer because he's been given permission to. making fun of your resident weeb for reading the words "kit kat" but just in a japanese accent.

it's being so ridiculously competitive that you'll hide in a burning bin in the name of fun for a game with made up points and then squinting at your teammate ringed with the bright light of the sun and laughing at how stupid this all is. it's making fun of your teammate's music taste that you can hear through the thin walls of the drivers' rooms. trusting the journey. mimicking each other's body language. knowing it's for the marketing but winking at the camera together anyway, like we're all invited to be in on the joke. two parallel lives woven in two different garages with almost identical specs. being so comfortable you have this weird rapport that is kind of a cipher and unknowable to anyone outside of the immediate network or team, but it's so assured and quiet that for the first time the person who's been the person who was once the younger teammate steps up, acts older now, and becomes comfortable with the silence.

it's knowing your best friend was on their renault team and not saying anything about it in public but the motorsport world is so small and specific and the experience so surreal that surely some laylines are just strangely predestined. it's about growing up together. it's watching the brit upstart in a generation of two other brit upstarts chase his dream and give up everything to win and get velcroed to the seat because he's kind of small, just like you, but you dream bigger than anyone dares to dream and you identify with the other's self belief that says you, too, could stand on that top step one day. it's you following the little blue-suited guy racer on social media and liking sooo many of his posts over the years, and not even bothering to hide that fact when you've probably become that goalpost for someone else one day, too.

it's chapter 2, with 3 more to go. it's watching your teammate win his first sprint race and finding it in yourself to be happy for him even when you're sad that it wasn't you. it's publicly saying that the rookie is not a threat, he's a threat who makes you race better. it's making fun of newbie's first day at mclaren and finding him unknowable. and he arrives with all this hype and pressure so what can you do but focus on you and step up your game, but he's always in the background and the periphery, chasing and chasing with this hunger that is unbelievable and unfamiliar because it's always humming in a way that made you mistake stillness for idleness in the past. but now, you know: still waters run deep, so you swim harder, too. drop the dj-ing. become more disciplined. train more. do things that don't matter, less.

because the future is vast. the future is happening constantly if you're ready to meet it. and maybe destiny will be kind, and your names will be remembered. your name, inked on a trophy in the precious metal of kings, and dreamers. your name, inked in gold.

but today, you're 22. you're 24.

you're driving a car as fast as you can, and everything that's possible, feels like it could be possible, right now.

[khaotunq]

maybe the only friends we made were the bruises we shared along the way <3

[yyyaammmmmm]

vws 🤞🤞

[xsunburstx]

spent my sunday morning reading ✨☁️

[deviarisa]

some fooliverse!gavin angst:

considering he's taking his certification exam soon, that means he had to endure the constant abuse and discrimination from the academy and his peers just to get the chance to take it

no wonder it's so important to him

[sleepy-hyperfixations]

Im a top ice truther unfortunately

[thatsrightice]

UMMMM

WHAT? IS??? THIS??????

THIS TIK TOK WITH A BEAUTIFUL EDIT JUST DROPS A BOMB SAYING THERE’S A BIRTH CERTIFICATE ON TWITTER AND I FIND THIS????? WITH NO EXPLANATION????

SERESHAWS YOU CANT JUST DO THAT TO ME WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

HIS MIDDLE NAME IS JACOB?

HE WAS BORN IN HONOLULU??

I AM UNWELL