#Black Boule | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msclaritea · 2 months

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you are a truly disgusting individual. your anti queer rhetoric is sending the world so far backward, you are pushing hate towards a community who already experiences so much shit from others like you. drag is not dangerous, it is art. being trans is not a cult. queer people are not inherently evil as you so clearly think. you are a sick fuck and I hope you have a terrible day <3

Scotland's Hate Crime Act comes into effect today. Women gain no additional protections, of course, but well-known trans activist Beth Douglas, darling of prominent Scottish politicians, falls within a protected category. Phew! 1/11

Lovely Scottish lass and convicted double rapist Isla Bryson found her true authentic female self shortly before she was due to be sentenced. Misgendering is hate, so respect Isla’s pronouns, please. Love the leggings! 2/11

Fragile flower Katie Dolatowski, 6'5", was rightly sent to a women's prison in Scotland after conviction. This ensured she was protected from violent, predatory men (unlike the 10-year-old girl Katie sexually assaulted in a women's public bathroom.) 3/11

Samantha Norris was cleared of exposing her penis to two 11-year-old girls. Hooray! Unfortunately she was then convicted for possession of 16,000 images of children being raped and sexually assaulted. Be that as it may, Sam’s still a lady to me! 4/11

Scottish woman and butcher Amy George abducted an 11-year-old girl while dressed in female clothing. No idea why this was mentioned in court – of course she was wearing women’s clothing, she's a woman! Amy took the girl home and sexually abused her over a 27-hour period. 5/11

But most women aren’t axe-toters or sex offenders, so let’s talk role models! Guilia Valentino (in red) wanted to play on the women's team 'because of sisterhood, validation and political visibility'. Naturally, she was given some boring cis girl’s place. Yay for inclusion! 6/11

Mridul Wadhwa, head of a Scottish rape crisis centre, says, ‘sexual violence happens to bigoted people as well.’ She has no gender recognition certificate, but was still appointed to a job advertised for women only. Time to be ‘challenged on your prejudices’, rape victims! 7/11

Munroe Bergdorf isn’t just a pretty face! Public campaigner for a children’s charity until safeguarding concerns were raised, she was appointed UN Women’s first ever UK champion. ‘What makes a woman “a woman” has no definitive answer,’ says Munroe. Great choice, UN Women! 8/11

Katie Neeves has been appointed as the UN Women UK delegate. She switched from straight man to lesbian at the age of 48 and, in a leaked 2022 webinar, described how she used to enjoy stealing and wearing her sister’s underwear. A truly relatable representative! 9/11

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Last, but least, TV’s India Willoughby proves we women can call a black broadcaster a ‘nasty bitch’ who ‘wouldn’t be anywhere without woke’, dub lesbians men, insult the looks of a female Olympic swimmer, ‘joke’ about kidnapping feminists, and STILL get airtime! What a gal! 10/11

🎉🌼🌸April Fools! 🌸🌼🎉

Only kidding. Obviously, the people mentioned in the above tweets aren't women at all, but men, every last one of them.

In passing the Scottish Hate Crime Act, Scottish lawmakers seem to have placed higher value on the feelings of men performing their idea of femaleness, however misogynistically or opportunistically, than on the rights and freedoms of actual women and girls. The new legislation is wide open to abuse by activists who wish to silence those of us speaking out about the dangers of eliminating women's and girls’ single-sex spaces, the nonsense made of crime data if violent and sexual assaults committed by men are recorded as female crimes, the grotesque unfairness of allowing males to compete in female sports, the injustice of women’s jobs, honours and opportunities being taken by trans-identified men, and the reality and immutability of biological sex.

For several years now, Scottish women have been pressured by their government and members of the police force to deny the evidence of their eyes and ears, repudiate biological facts and embrace a neo-religious concept of gender that is unprovable and untestable. The re-definition of 'woman' to include every man who declares himself one has already had serious consequences for women's and girls’ rights and safety in Scotland, with the strongest impact felt, as ever, by the most vulnerable, including female prisoners and rape survivors.

It is impossible to accurately describe or tackle the reality of violence and sexual violence committed against women and girls, or address the current assault on women’s and girls’ rights, unless we are allowed to call a man a man. Freedom of speech and belief are at an end in Scotland if the accurate description of biological sex is deemed criminal.

I'm currently out of the country, but if what I've written here qualifies as an offence under the terms of the new act, I look forward to being arrested when I return to

the birthplace of the Scottish Enlightenment.

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"It was only in Scotland that the Templars endured no persecution.." Albert G. Mackey

Knights Templars gave birth to the Freemasons.

The Templars practiced Dark Arts and Paganism.

The Templars infiltrated churches including the Church of England.

Reverend is a Masonic title.

Worship of the Pagan Adam Kadmon is worship of Divine Androgyne and Intersex.

The current Transgender Rights For Men and Drag, like the Gender Ideology in Weimer during WWII comes from Pagan worship, very sick elite fetish and Pedophiles. It steps on actual people suffering Body Dysphoria and physical disabilities, involving their organs.

Bottom line: Your 'Art' is FOUL and Fraudulent, meant only to please wealthy perverts and mock real women. Oh! And to allow access to children, for the perverts, you know damn well exist in your community.

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smvillainsweek · 10 months

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Favorite subgroup of villains

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bizarreauhavre · 2 years

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???

#bizarre au havre #apparition #ufo #ovni #light #ball lightning #paranormal #forest #night #strange photography #black and white photography #lumière #foudre en boule #forêt #étrange photographie #noir et blanc

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feuilletourne-sir20 · 2 years

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Tournefeuille, grosse pétanque

Tournefeuille, big boules

by sir20 for feuilletourne-sir20

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tredawakandan · 1 year

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In today's episode I'm so sick of you n1ggas 😭.. Y'all still be believing in these celebrities

#coon #coons #uncle tom #sellout #boule #black history matters #black history #black history 365

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jefkphotography · 4 months

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A stainless steel, jeu de boule.

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tainted-liquor · 9 months

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'High Score!'✰⋆⁺

Earth42!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader TWs: N word usage, making out, cussing, and I think thats it! Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, smiles, and lemon zest! (Fluff + suggestive) W/C: 1.2k A/N: You, Miles, and your friends all decide to play laser tag at the mall! Unfortunately for you, your trigger-happy boyfriend doesn't really care for laser tag.

The loud electro-dance music burst through the surround-sound speakers, the floor vibrating as you bit back hushed giggles. You, Miles, and all of your friends decided to get together a week before to play some laser tag. So here you were now, pressed up against the wall as you guarded your chest in an attempt to conceal your hitbox as you peeked your head around the corner. Your friend Daniella had been giggling and yelling, having been 'shot' by your friend Pierston. One down, and six more to go.

Even though you all agreed that it was all just for fun, everyone had gotten extremely competitive the moment those faux vault doors opened, everyone running in different directions for cover. You knew you had this shit in the bag, but there was just one person you knew for a FACT you didn't wanna get into a showdown with. Your boyfriend, Miles. From the moment everyone was released, he was absolutely nowhere to be found. While everyone was panting, rolling on the floor, dodging and weaving between walls, there was no trace of him anywhere.

You gently shook the lingering anxiety away as you slowly made your way to a different hiding spot after noticing Daniella's wide-eyed stare and the subtle point she gave you as she took her walk of shame back to the waiting room. Snitch. You got down on the ground, shimmying over to a small hedge, and leaned back, slowly extending your head around the corner to see if you had been followed. You covered your mouth as you heard Ganke yell out the highest, shrillest, girly scream you think you've ever heard. As you hear a couple of rogue giggles, you quickly apply more pressure to not give away your location, frantic thumps, and heavy footsteps begin to echo throughout the room, indicating everyone's desperate attempts to conceal themselves from whatever predator was following them.

"BRING THAT ASS HERE, BOUL!" You hear Kalias shout through maniacal laughter.

"NO PLEASE! C'MON MAN, I JUST GOT HERE YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CREASE MY SHOES." Ganke yells as the footsteps get louder before a low buzz and a loud yelp of disappointment was heard from poor Ganke.

The room erupts with laughter as everyone jumps out, the desperation to catch each other finally attaching itself to most of the group. You take a deep breath, preparing to leave your hiding spot and join the adrenaline-fed gunfight, laughing loudly before being sharply cut off by the feeling of a strong hand pulling you backward. You yelp loudly as you look up, seeing Miles point his laser gun directly at your hitbox with an absolutely evil grin.

"What's good, Mami?" he mumbles as he literally presses you with a toy gun, wrapping his free arm around your lower waist. His smug grin turned into a full-fledged beam full of nothing but pure mischief. The small enclosure was loud, filled with upbeat techno, ray-gun pews, hysterical giggles, and the occasional shout or two. He lowered his laser gun, gently tucking it onto the orange and black belt buckle that came with the vest, pressing his finger to his lips as he watches your eyes widen. "Shhh, cuz I'll blast you back to that damn waiting room right now."

You roll your eyes as you smirk, pretending to be annoyed by his actions as he attempts to pull you impossibly closer. "Where have you been this entire time? I haven't seen or heard you even once." You whisper as you turn your head to the side in confusion. He chuckled lowly as he peeked around the corner, watching the chaos unfold as everyone chases each other around the arena. He shrugged before hoisting you up by the back of your thighs, gasping quietly as he supported all of your body weight with both of his hands. He places a series of careful kisses on your face before capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss.

"'m waitin' for these niggas to start fearing for they lives..." He mumbled as he broke the kiss briefly. "Then when they start runnin' like rats, i'ma blast they asses back to the lobby" he pants as he continues to kiss you, slowly turning into a make-out session behind the faux wall. Your brows furrowed as he recited his plan, a playful smirk forming on your lips at the thought of how competitive he was being from afar. You laced both arms around his neck, playing with one of the braids that lay on the back of his head. You took this as an opportunity to link your ankles around his hips for extra support.

Any thought of being tagged by your friends dissipated as you melted into your boyfriend's secure hold. He gave you one final peck on the cheek before gently placing you back on your feet, shooting you a wink before grabbing his ray gun and almost immediately disappearing into the arena.

"OH SHIT RUN IT'S MILES!" you hear Jasmine screech before a string of buzzers rings throughout the arena. You silently admired how he seemingly glided through the room, landing perfect shots on your friends' hitboxes in what felt like 5 minutes. He had unexplainably great agility and near-damn perfect aim. Yeah, he was in basketball for a little bit back at school, but his remarkable reaction time and inhumane ability to dodge remained unaccounted for. Regardless of what you thought, you watched him work his magic, successfully sending our remaining six friends back to the lobby with an absolutely maddened expression.

He stuffed his gun back in his belt buckle before turning in your direction, that same devilish grin formulating itself on his lips as he raises his arms up. "Mami! 1v1 me!" He shouts. Your heart dropped into your stomach at the words, going back to the very first thought you had when the doors first permitted you into the arena. But regardless, you shrugged and walked out with both hands on your heavy metal ray gun, slowly approaching him as you pointed it at his vest. He gave you a nod, keeping his hands up as the final buzzer sounded, LED lights turning red all throughout the arena as he gave you a small smirk.

"Oh no! She got me!" He shouted. You suddenly realized he never intended on actually fighting you, and that he only wanted to rack up a high score and then go home to have something to brag about. All that yelling about a 1v1 and the 'showdown' you two had was just bluff so the rest of the group didn't think you were cheating. You burst out into laughter, pulling him into a tight hug as the vault doors opened up again, allowing a new wave of people to pass through as Miles wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"She won." He shrugged, the ghost of a devilish grin still present on his face as your friends let out noises of shock.

"Ain't no way you lost to your girl, Miles." Daniella laughed as Miles shot her a rather rude glare.

"Girl shut the fuck up, you was the first to leave the premises." He spat.

You all spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, clowning Miles on how he "lost to his girlfriend." Amidst all the talking and jokes, however, he shot you another wink you would have missed if you blinked.

#across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #miles morales fluff

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lovelycloverrs · 9 months

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ɪɴᴋ ᴍᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ "dating" headcanons

SPOILERS FOR LMK SEASON 4!!!!!

characters: Ink Mk (no duh)

Info: headcanons + NB reader, fluff..?, ink!mk will be referred just as ink

<wip>

requested? (no/yes) + request status: open!

Warning: he can be a little possessive

I believe that Ink!Mk would be hella touchy and clingy even more than our normal Mk, Ink would love to be touching you no matter the situation, he would leave black stains on your skin and clothes

Don’t wear anything white near this boy, the will hug you and turn any type of white clothing into a black one in seconds, and lemme tell you something that shit is hard to get off

I can imagine him being a goey like liquid most of the time so, picture this:

Ink on a little water bottle and you carrying him around, carrying him on little dates, putting some snacks into the bottle or putting him a boul or a cup wile watching a movie wile you have them in between your legs warming him up

I can view him being a massive cuddle bug (since he’s a literal monkey)

He will be fine being the big spoon or the little one but he prefers to be the big spoon, having his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his furr filled chest, hearing his slow heart beat and low purr coming out from his chin, tail tightly wrapped around your leg not letting you scape from his embrace and his ears flicking at every little sound you make

I can see Ink being so possessive over you

Taking naps on top of your fresh washed clothes so that you would be walking around with his sent on you, letting everyone that you are his and his only

Ink would leave bite marks all over your body, making sure to mark you in the most visible spots

He would go nuts if he smelled Wukong’s sent in you! My boy would be so jealous he wouldn’t let you get out for 3 days, or an entire week!!! Until you had his smell again…

Kisses with Ink would be odd, since he has a bunch o goey ink,, I can eve imagine a weird after taste after

At sleepless nights were he can’t seem to close an eye at all he would just stare at you, having a blissful sleep, his eyes and mouth glowing in the dark as he admire your beauty up close a bunch of thoughts and questions going into the demons head ‘How could them love a demon like me?’

He would keep questioning your love towards him, you would have to pull him out of his thoughts with a kiss, hug, or a lot of reassurance

At the end of the day the is still our same old Mk, with some additional features ;]

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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months

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"I was briefly a runway model."

Summary: uhhh you go to a small concert and bump into the artist after you know how it goes 🔥🔥

genre: first meeting. again. [CROWD BOOS]

wc: ~600-700

A/N: I wanted this to be longer but eh maybe next time. You get another drabble instead 👍🏾enjoy!

The odor of sweat and cigarette smoke choked the air as your friend gripped your hand amongst the swaying cluster of bodies.

You didn’t recognize the band she had taken you to see, a rare instance now that you visited the small venue every Friday night. There’s a young white girl with half-shaved blonde hair and peachy ends playing her heart out on the drums, a big pink sweater tied around her waist.

The main guitarist and frontman managed to be an even more colorful sight; he wore plaid slacks with patches woven into them, held up by a shiny spike-studded black belt. His bright red knee-high boots should’ve clashed with his attire, but the way he propped it up on a stage speaker to play a nasty riff made them go together. He was tall and lean, but there was a bounce in his walk that told you that he was likely closer to your age.

These guys must be new, you think to yourself.

He said something crude on his electric guitar, the sound coming out jagged and crunchy. Large wicks radiated from his head, blocking out the overhead stage lights as he made his way to your section. You could hardly make out his face as he stood directly above you with the light shining in between the gaps in his wicks, resembling something like an angel.

After the concert, your friend would swear up and down that he was staring directly at you as you left the venue.

The dim lights of the pub reflected off of the wooden interior. It gave everything a golden glow, including the mahogany skin of the young man sitting next to you.

The wicks and pants instantly gave him away as the night's frontman. The improved lighting situation allowed you to stare in awe at his sharp cheekbones and deep-set, somber eyes. You also recognized him from somewhere. Before you could gather up the courage to ask first, he addresses you with a sidelong glance.

"I got something on my face?"

You jump, and this makes him burst into breathy laughter.

"Sorry," you smile timidly, "I just thought I'd seen you somewhere before." The man’s pierced brow quirks up.

"Lots of places where you could've seen me. You're gonna have to narrow it down."

"It was a magazine. Editorial, or something. Have you ever modeled?"

"I have, believe it or not. For a time."

"You've certainly got the face for it," you said quietly. The man heard it anyway, judging by the smirk spreading across his lips, so you quickly change the subject.

"Where you from?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, hm?"

You shrugged. "I just figured, lotta models are African."

"I think we're all African," he stuck a finger up in the air comically like a professor, making you snort.

"But...Haitian, if you've got to be specific about it."

Your eyes lit up.

“Oh shit, sak pase!”

Hobie chuckled. It was deep, and warm-sounding. Like an old friend.

“Nap boule. Can't speak much more than that, though.”

You leaned forward over the counter and started twirling the ends of your braids around your finger absentmindedly.

“So, how’d you end up here? Having a pretty face must pay well.”

The man’s expression darkened for a moment. His tongue darted out to mess with the ring on his lip before his smile returned with less force than before.

“Wasn’t for me,” he shrugged. “Didn’t pay too well, either. Had me scurryin’ around trying to catch a cab on an empty stomach at seventeen.”

You winced. “Yikes, sorry I asked.”

"It's all good," Hobie said. He watched you toy with your hair with a grin.

"My face still comes in handy, though, for playing gigs."

"How so?"

"I get to meet pretty people like you."

Second hobie fic let's give it up for my second hobie fic whoooo

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #spiderman across the spiderverse #moralesanhour

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chic-a-gigot · 2 months

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La Mode nationale, no. 13, 2 avril 1898, Paris. No. 15. — Corsage de jeune femme. No. 16. — Corsage de jeune fille. Bibliothèque nationale de France

No. 15. — Corsage de jeune femme, en taffetas mauve, tissé de tresses de soie noire, et garni d'un empiècement en cœur très prolongé en mousseline de soie mauve toute bouillonnée, coupé par des cache-points et des boules de jais, un côté de l'empiècement se prolonge jusqu'à la taille et forme croisé. Col recouvert d'un galon de jais, manches unies.

No. 15. — Young woman's bodice, in mauve taffeta, woven with braids of black silk, and trimmed with a very extended heart-shaped yoke in bubbled mauve silk muslin, cut with stitches and jet balls , one side of the yoke extends to the waist and has a crossed shape. Collar covered with jet braid, plain sleeves.

Matériaux: 5 mètres taffetas; 2 mètres mousseline.

—

No. 16. — Corsage de jeune fille en velours bleu, à tout petits plis de lingerie partent de l'épaule et s'arrêtant à la poitrine pour former des fronces. Col Médicis en velours rouge, cravate et ceinture en taffetas bleu du même ton que le corsage, basque rapportée, manches avec petits bouffants et plis de lingerie.

No. 16. — Young girl's bodice in blue velvet, with very small lingerie folds starting from the shoulder and stopping at the chest to form gathers. Medici collar in red velvet, tie and belt in blue taffeta in the same tone as the bodice, attached basque, sleeves with small bouffants and lingerie pleats.

Matériaux: 7 mètres velours; 1 mètre taffetas.

#La Mode nationale #19th century #1890s #1898 #on this day #April 2 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #color #description #bibliothèque nationale de france #dress #corsage #collar #bow #veil #gigot

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msclaritea · 1 month

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You know this song has been running through my head, since all of this crap came up? I loved this song. How big a fan? I stood in line, to go meet Jasmine Guy, when I was young. That's how much I loved her, and did still, today.

But again, I will not hang on to anything false or someone I know is being used to lure young black people down the wrong path. Reminding people that Jasmine Guy knows Jada Pinkett Smith doesn't help, either. There's only so much nostalgia, you can hang onto. A Different World Tour IS being used to encourage kids to pledge, not simply attend the HBCU schools. Those Greek Houses are dangerous, secretive and Pagan.

#Jasmine Guy #A Different World Tour #Black Boule #Pagan Greek Houses Tour #jada pinkett smith #Is This Scientology?#HBCU #Morehouse #Spelman

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homomenhommes · 2 months

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saga: SOUMISSION / DOMINATION 129

Marc et moi avons été très excité de notre virée de l'autre soir (aire de repos). Ça nous a rappelé les premiers temps de notre rencontre ou nous étions beaucoup plus audacieux.

Il est vrai que ces derniers temps, à part nos vacances à La Palmyre, nous ronronnons avec le groupe d'amis que nous nous sommes fait.

C'est décidé, samedi soir il me remmènera à la boite de nuit de nos débuts.

Dès le mercredi soir, je vérifie que je peux toujours fermer le collier de chien à piques qu'il m'avait offert dans nos débuts. C'est juste, il ne reste qu'un trou de plus ! C'est là que je m'aperçois que j'ai pris musculairement. Quand je reprend mes premiers jeans taillés en shorts spéciaux, c'est pareil, à la taille ça va. Par contre coté cul, je suis serré, mes fesses se sont arrondies façon black (c'est à dire que du muscle). ;Le tissu est hyper tendu et dans la glace, je vois bien que la couture des fesses est décousue et que les bords s'écartent quand je marche. Ça fait encore plus salope ! Je teste aussi les plugs pour savoir lequel s'harmonise le mieux avec le reste de ma tenue. Je pense que le noir moyen fera l'affaire. Quand je me penche, sa base apparaît entre mes fesses dans l'écartement du jeans.

Quand Marc rentre je suis dans cet accoutrement. Il me prend dans ses bras dès l'entrée et alors qu'on se roule un patin, je sens ses doigts écarter le jeans et buter contre le plug. Sans que sa langue quitte ma bouche, il tire sur la base et fait coulisser le plug sur le cm de son étranglement, puis me le sort sur sa partie renflée et le rentre à nouveau.

Il se recule pour admirer l'ensemble. Pour voir il me demande de passer mes chaps en cuir par dessus. Ça va faire un bail que je ne les ai mis. A la ceinture c'est bon, par contre si les mollets passent bien, ce n'est pas le cas de mes cuisses qui ont forcies. Les zip fermés, je suis moulé et la bande de chair entre le cuir et le bas du short en jeans a un effet très sex. Pour les chaps il va falloir que je les détende, juste un cm de plus de diamètre suffirait. En attendant Marc me dit d'enfiler une paire de Cat et mon vieux blouson cuir (celui qui à une attache qui me passe entre les fesses et fait un Y devant pour encadre mon paquet). Pas la peine de gâcher ma préparation. Nous prenons nos casques et allons chercher nos motos. La traversée de la cour me donne un aperçu des effets que je vais ressentir. L'attache du blouson appuyant fortement sur la base du plug ! Je le suis ne sachant pas ce qu'il veut faire. Il nous fait prendre des petites routes histoire que je ressente bien les irrégularités du goudron au fond de mon trou transmissent par le plug, puis autoroute. Je devine que nous allons rejoindre l'aire de repos que je connais. Autres jour de la semaine, autres camions de garés. Nous garons nos motos en pleine lumière devant le block sanitaire. Nous nous approchons et je reste dans la partie éclairée, devant l'entrée, blouson ouvert sur mon torse glabre, lanière du blouson qu'à demi détachée devant. Je me penche pour me laver les mains au robinet extérieur, laissant deviner le plug qui me rempli. S'il n'y avait pas de chauffeurs à pisser, 2mn plus tard, je suis entouré de 3 mecs. Le premier visuellement 25 ans, 1,80m musclé juste recouvert d'un short nylon flottant tendu par un sexe en phase de raidissement. Le second la trentaine boule à zéro et boucle d'oreille, dans le même équipement mais sa bite bandée le long de sa cuisse laisse dépasser du short un gland pas mal gros. Le troisième a dépassé les 50ans, bedonnant en short et chemisette ouverte (beurk pas mon style !).

Marc sort des WC où il avait vérifié la présence de clients potentiels et l'absence de gendarmerie. Il éconduit gentiment le vieux et me vend aux deux autres. L'annonce du tarif refroidi un peu les deux mecs. Négociations, pour emporter le morceau, je me penche et leur fait admirer ma rondelle couverte par la base du plug. Ils acceptent et un des chauffeur propose de faire ça à l'arrière de son camion, il n'est pas chargé à fond et cela laisse une place suffisante. Entrée par la petite porte de coté. Il éclaire la remorque et un halogène nous aveugle jusqu'à ce qu'il pose une caisse devant pour en atténuer la violence. Marc s'installe dans un coin et me laisse entre leurs mains. Le plus jeune se colle à moi et tire sur la lanière qui passe entre mes cuisses. Le plug me rentre dans le cul et je me lève sur la pointe des pieds. Il laisse retomber. Le deuxième est derrière moi et lève mon blouson. Je le quitte. Devant, le mec me masse la bite, je bande sans pouvoir développer normalement, bloqué par le jeans. Il n'a pas l'air de vouloir me libérer de cette pression. Mes mains ne sont pas restées inactive et je lui ai descendu le short sous ses fesses, libérant sa bite. En main, je l'estime à 20/22cm par un bon 5 cm de diamètre, circoncise. Ses boules imberbes se rétractent sous mes caresses et viennent se coller à sa tige. Le second presse son paquet contre mon cul et je sens entre mes fesses coulisser un sexe de bonne taille. J'ai faim !! Je prend un préso et l'enfile au mec devant moi. Cela fait je me penche en avant et commence une pipe de bonne salope. La tête en arrière, je me l'enfourne jusqu'aux boules. Il n'en revient pas et me bloque en position " étouffement ". Je m'agite, il relâche la pression et je lui dis que s'il me laisse faire je recommencerai ça. Comme je me suis penché, le jeans s'est ouvert et la base noire du plug est apparu sous le nez du second client. J'ai bientôt senti ses doigts tirer dessus. Il admire ma rondelle s'écarter alors qu'il retire le plug. Puis il le relâche et ce dernier rentre brutalement. Je sursaute mais c'est excitant ! Il finit par me l'arracher totalement. Ses doigts (au moins trois) viennent combler le trou avant qu'il ne se referme. J'entend une pochette de kpote se déchirer et après quelques instants, je sens la pression du gland sur ma rondelle. Heureusement que j'étais bien graissé d'avance car le mec ne se préoccupe pas de savoir comment ça va glisser et pousse durement. Mon anneau se déplisse et je laisse son sexe m'envahir. Bon, très bon ! il me tient aux hanches et me bourrine le cul. Chaque buttée de ses couilles contre les miennes m'envoi prendre le gland de son collègue dans la gorge. Il ne faut pas longtemps avant que le mec se tire de ma bouche, gueulant que si ça continu il va juter avant de m'avoir enculé. Il presse son pote d'en finir pour m'enculer à son tour. Chose faite 5 mn plus tard. L'échange de place n'a pas laissé le temps à mon trou de se refermer qu'il subissait de nouveau un assaut. Pas le même genre. Comme le type était déjà passablement excité, il y est allé doucement pour pas juter dès le début. J'ai apprécié le fait qu'il tourne son bassin pendant la pénétration, qu'il se suffise à jouer à entrer et sortir son gland uniquement, puis sur 5cm seulement, puis 10/12 cm avant de me faire prendre sa bite sur la longueur totale. Cette façon de faire m'a emmené très près de ma propre jouissance et c'aurait été chose faite, si Marc ne m'avait pas dit que la soirée ne faisait que commencer.

Une fois mes deux premiers clients purgés, le plug remis en place, ;je suis ressorti faire le " trottoir ", Marc à 10 m derrière moi. Le casque à la main, j'ai déambulé sur la bordure passant devant toutes les cabines des camions. Beaucoup avait les rideaux tirés mais je me suis pris des réflexions de chauffeurs prenant le frais, assis sur les marches pieds. Plusieurs m'ont demandé " combien la pipe ?". Je me suis arrêté dans un groupe de 4 mecs en train de se passer une bouteille. Ils étaient plus jeunes que les autres chauffeurs et leurs physiques m'allaient bien. Un m'a filé la bouteille et une lampée m'a fait prendre conscience que c'était loin d'être de l'eau. Je la rendais en toussant ce qui m'a valu le commentaire que c'était une boisson d'Homme. Je répliquais d'un " c'est pas la boisson qui fait l'Homme mais le poids de sa queue ". Ça les a excité et j'ai vu sortir des jeans et shorts 4 paquets, plus qu'au repos même si pas encore bandés à fond. Je sortais le mien qui n'avait pas débandé depuis le premier assaut de mon cul. Quatre sifflements on accompagné mon exhibition. Faut dire que mes 20cm sont sortis comme poussés par un ressort. Les mecs ont bandé ferme de suite. Concours de longueur et de diamètre. J'étais dans la moyenne. Deux bites plus courtes mais plus larges et deux plus longues même largeur que moi. Pour m'en assurer, je les avais toutes prise en mains l'une après l'autre, sans provoquer de recul. Les boules, elles étaient plus ou moins poilues mais aucunes rasées, dommage ! Un des mecs à queue plus courte était " sévèrement burné ", deux très grosses boules pendaient sous sa queue. Marc s'est alors approché et leur a mis le marché en main. Leur disant qu'il était prêt à faire un tarif groupe. Les types qui dans un premier temps s'étaient méfié de son approche, ont négocier dur et je me suis trouvé vendu pour 160€ (les chauffeurs routiers ne roulent pas sur l'or !). Le premier qui m'a mis la main au cul a été surpris de le trouvé plein de mon plug. Il a rameuté les autres pour qu'ils viennent voir. J'ai lâché les bites que je branlais et je me suis plié. Mes fesses se sont écartés pour laisser voir le rond noir de la base du plug. Commentaires : " qu"elle salope, il en veut de la bite, j'vais te mettre du vrai ce sera meilleurs..." Marc a veillé à la distribution de kpotes au déplaisir de certains mais à ma grande sécurité !! Rapidement je me suis trouvé la bouche prise par une bite envahissante, le cul ramoné consciencieusement et les mains pleines des deux autres participants. J'ai subit une vraie tournante. Dans le sens des aiguilles d'une montre, il ont échangé leurs places. Bien que cachés entre deux de leurs camions, nous avons attirés quelques spectateurs. Marc a laissé faire, essayant de repéré dans le lot mes prochains clients. Au deuxième tours, ils ont tous déchargés au fond de mon cul leurs spermes bloqués par le latex. Il a fallu que je pense à des trucs moches pour ne pas juter.

Alors que les choses étant finies et que l'attroupement se dispersait, un beau viking a abordé Marc avec un billet de 100€. Occupé à replacer mon plug, je n'ai pas suivi l'arrangement. Marc m'a juste dit de le suivre dans sa cabine. Nous montons, les rideaux sont tirés et l'espace ainsi protégé est conséquent. Quand mon viking tombe le short, je vois apparaître un sexe blanc juste surplombé d'une ligne de poils taillés. Encore mou, il doit faire déjà dans les 12cm par 3. je me penche et le prend en main pour le faire bander et le kpoter. Il se développe, encore et encore pour finalement avancer un sexe hors norme de 24/25 cm de long par plus de 6 de large à la base. Je Kpote et commence ma pipe. Marc s'est calé contre une portière et nous laisse faire. Je suce donc à m'écraser les cordes vocales, son gros gland rose envahissant régulièrement ma gorge. D'ailleurs, à chaque fois que ses couilles tapaient mon menton, il gémissait de plaisir. Ce traitement devait avoir trop d'effet car il m'a repoussé et tourné. Plié sur le siège passager, la tête sur sa couchette, il m'a écarter les cuisses et à joué quelques minutes avec le plug. Je laissais coulisser facile puis serrant mon anneau j'ai bloqué tout mouvement, je ne voulais pas qu'il croit que mon cul était une chatte molle. Il a grommelé un " yeh, good ass ". Comme il s'apprêtait à m'enfiler ses 25 sans précautions particulières, Marc m'a rapidement fait sniffer du poppers. J'ai pris du coup la totalité du mec dès le premier coup de rein ! Son limage profond et puissant m'a emmené rapidement aux portes de la jouissance. Il faut dire qu'il venait après tous les autres qui m'avaient bien chauffé. Il m'a tourné la tête vers la portière et à baissé la glace pour mettre ma tête dehors. Je l'ai senti s'immobiliser quelques instants au fond de mon trou puis reprendre ses va et vient. Je l'ai senti après la pause, plus rapide et encore plus gros dans mon cul. De plus lui qui m'avait jusque là sauté sans un mot, geignait à chaque fois qu'il reculait. (j'ai su plus tard que Marc à ce moment là l'enculait sévèrement, à sa demande). J'ai eu aussi du mal à ne pas geindre aussi et nos bruits ont alerté le camion d'à coté. Nous avons eu un spectateur qui n'a pas tardé à se branler devant notre prestation. J'ai senti simultanément : le viking s'enfoncer à fond et remplir sa kpote, une morsure du même individu sur mon trapèze droit et vu le jus de notre voyeur s'écraser sur notre portière juste sous mon menton. Quelques secondes plus tard, de nouvelles secousses dans mon cul me transmettaient l'éjaculation de Marc dans le cul du viking.

J'ai remis le plug pour le retour histoire de pas saloper la selle, les limages successifs m'ayant bien ouvert le trou (demain exercices de contraction d'anus !!).

Nous sommes rentrés à 3 h du matin moi, sur les rotules, et Marc ravi de mon comportement. J'aime être à sa botte, lui peut tout me demander, il le sait et n'en abuse pas. Je finis la nuit blotti au creux de ses bras.

JARDINIER

12 notes · View notes

bearlytolerant · 5 months

Text

This is a little fic as a thank you to @fangbangerghoul for drawing one of my fave ocs. I do hope you enjoy this final version. ☺️

Fandom: Starfield

Rating: E

Pairing: Delgado x Reader

Word Count: 3825

AO3 Link

“Ah, the dread pirate Captain Delgado of the Crimson Fleet,” you say in your distorted voice. You bow with a flourish. “I never would have thought you’d leave your throne on the Key and grace me with your presence.”

“Cut the theatrics,” Delgado spits. “You are outnumbered.”

You take one step back and lower your hands to your side, knives still gripped tight, giving a slight nod. “I only wish to negotiate.”

“Negotiate?” An understanding passes between the two of you. Delgado lowers his gun. “What is there to negotiate?”

Holding up two of your gloved fingers you gesture to him after sheathing your knives. “Leave the others and come with me. Surely, there is a favorable bargain we can strike?”

“There is no bargain!” Mathis Castillo sidles up alongside Delgado as if he has any say at all in the matter.

“Shut up so I can think!” Delgado gives him a shove back which earns a nasty little glare from the bearded rook.

“There’s nothing to think about,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes that he can’t see. “It’s a simple bargain.”

He shakes his head. “Nothing is simple with you.”

“I promise it will be quick and I know we can work something out that leaves us both walking away with what we want.”

You watch as Mathis whispers something into Delgado’s ear. Delgado scowls.

“Fine. But if you try anything—”

“Yes, yes you’ll blow my head off, etc.” You gesture for him to follow you with the curl of your finger. “I’ll keep this civil. I promise.”

He takes a step forward and you turn, heading toward the outpost.

Delgado treks after you, the eyes of his merry crew now at your back and you half wonder if they’ll go against his wishes and shoot you dead. After all, they’ve killed for less. But you make it to the door unscathed and smash the hatch button. Together you step inside. Hitting the next one on the wall inside, the door starts to close behind you. But before it gives one last hiss to lock in place, Delgado tugs on your suit, hooking his fingers under your helmet.

You assist. Yanking yourself free of the helm, it hangs loosely on your fingertips as Delgado’s lips trail along your chin. Nibble at your neck. There’s still a small mark left from the last time you saw him.

“I don’t know why we have to make this so dramatic,” you say.

His kisses still and he withdraws. “If you’re going to complain, I can simply turn right back around and leave.”

“I’m sure your empty threats work well on your crew but they won’t work on me.”

“Dios mío.” He shakes his head in exasperation as you smirk but he grabs your helmet out of your hand and shoves it back onto your head. He turns tail and hits the hatch button. Inner door shuts and outer door opens.

“Wait,” you call. But he ignores you, taking a step into the open air.

“Load up the cargo!” He barks at his crew. “It’s a no deal!”

Anger wells within you. Does he really think he can just walk away? But as you follow after him and reach for Delgado’s hand, there’s an explosion and chaos ensues. Screaming and gunfire. Almost black smoke unfurls like a hand delivering a smite in the dusty sky. He glances back at you and you nod your head. Though, a part of you wants the other pirates to steer their own fate while you remain uninvolved.

Heading further out of the hatch together, you get a better view of what’s going on. Spacers, usually highly unorganized, spill from all corners. They must have set an ambush. Each of Del’s crew is aiming at a spacer but the fleet only has half their numbers.

“We could flank them,” he says turning back to you.

“I’ll take left.”

He gives a curt nod and you split, going in opposite directions. You flip the switch that makes your suit reflective and more difficult to see. You scan the area, searching for a spot to climb up the outpost for a better look. There's a boulder not too far away that if you sprint over to, and use your boost just a bit, you should be able to reach the top. It will be high enough ground.

You take off running. There’s another explosion behind you. But you don’t look. Your eyes stay focused straight ahead. Too focused. Halfway to the boulder, pain shoots up your right leg and you glance down to see the tear in your pants and the blood pooling and dripping in rivulets that splash to the ground. You stumble and the spacer strikes again. This time you grab their wrist, keeping their blade away from your throat. But they deliver a well placed kick to the knee. There’s a loud crack. A bloodcurdling scream. Yours? Like fire and ice in your veins, the pain oscillates between an unbearable burn and a tingling numbness. Your head swims. Clenching your teeth, you touch your forehead, attempting to hang on to reality.

“My, my, if it isn’t The Mantis! And everybody loves to talk you up! You’re no superhero and when I’m done with you, everyone will see the ordinary human you are,” the spacer taunts.

They topple you, taking the advantage. Your head hits the dirt with a blow to the face.

Everything fades to black.

—

Your body jostles. Swims. Like static, your eyes open to gray and flecks of white. Something is buzzing in your ear. You try to lift your hand to swat it away. The thing moves and speaks to you. No, not a thing. But someone? You throw all of your energy (which is minuscule) into seeing and listening. Slowly but surely, your vision clears and you can make out Delgado’s form. His lips are moving but you can’t quite understand what he’s saying.

“Huh?” You manage to rasp between dry, cracked lips.

“It’s about goddam time.” His voice is clear as day now.

Your vision adjusts to your surroundings. You blink, capturing details. Scattered trees with canopy branches along a patchy grass landscape and copious amounts of rocks, you see the small, simple outpost situated between the circle of dirt you’re laying in. Everything comes back to you. A contraband interference gone awry when spacers ambushed. There’s still a little smoke in the air and you realize now that the dirt is littered with spacer bodies. So, Delgado’s fleet survived.

You palm the ground beneath you. Curling your fingers, you try to move but you wince in pain as your head starts to throb.

“Take it slowly,” Delgado coaxes and he offers his hand. “Let me assist.”

Still a bit dazed, you take his hand and he helps you to your feet. You wobble and he stabilizes you. But pain sends a shock through you. Nearly crumbling, you let out a small broken sound. Delgado wraps one arm around your waist while throwing one of yours up and around so your hand dangles over his other shoulder bearing most of your weight for you.

“I can do this myself, you know.”

“Have you seen the condition you're in?”

“Not exactly but I’m sure—”

Delgado removes your arm and takes a singular step away. You crumple to the ground. More pain rips through you like a wildfire. Air whistles between your teeth as you suck in a breath.

“You’re an asshole!”

He folds his arms across his chest. “Well, let me see it. Show me how you can walk all by yourself.”

You glare up at him, the tingling fire spreading throughout your body again as you try to stand. “Not even going to lend me a hand?” You ask in a muttered breath.

“No. Unlike you, I actually listen. You said you can walk on your own. So, cut the crap and get up. Let me see you walk.”

Gritting your teeth together, you try to get on your hands and knees. But your one right knee reminds you that you’re in no shape to kneel or stand. Something is broken. You roll and flop onto your back, barely holding back tears. Delgado’s brow flies up as he stands over you, throwing you a patronizing look.

You struggle with the pain in your leg as you lie there staring into the sky. It sizzles through your veins like an internal burn. “Fuck,” you mutter, unable to admit Delgado is right.

He scoops you up in his arms, no longer willing to argue with you.

“Do not worry. I won’t tell a soul that The Mantis needed to be carried.”

“Did I mention that you are an asshole?”

Your body jostles as he shuffles back over to the lab outpost hatch.

“Come now. That is harsh. Would an asshole carry you? You should be thanking me. Not throwing insults.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s at the hatch now, smacking the button with his gloved hand and you both wait in silence while the door hisses open. He hits the next button. The outer door closes and he steps into the first room of the abandoned science outpost. It’s all sterilized white walls, occasionally decorated with hazard posters and whiteboards with notes scrawled across them. Some formulas, but mostly notes the scientists left for each other. A vote for movie night draws your eye and you briefly read through the titles. You silently cast your own vote as Delgado continues waltzing through the room. You spot a med kit hanging on the wall beside the door leading into the next room. He rests you against the wall underneath the kit.

Pulling up your pant leg, you check the condition you’re in. You’ve been through worse. But your knee is swollen with a bruise at the center like a fresh picked bouquet of violets.

Delgado sits back on his haunches and administers a trauma pack. The pain ebbs away as you rest your head on the cool wall. Then he rips open the package of an immobilizer with his teeth. He immediately tends to your wounds.

“I can get that.”

“Listen to me. I don’t like repeating myself. You are injured. Badly. I am going to take care of you and you are going to shut up about being able to do it yourself.”

You sigh as you lean your head back, too weary to fight him on the issue. Instead, you interrogate him while he fusses over your injuries.

“What happened to the contraband?”

“What do you think happened?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing your precious Fleet got their hands on it but I wasn’t sure. It could’ve been blown up.”

“It was.”

“Oh.”

“So I sent the Fleet away. Shinya patched in new coordinates for a party cruiser to crash.”

“That seems pretty low for the Fleet,” you say, wincing slightly as he wraps your knee in bandages.

“The cruiser is full of a bunch of corpo fucks with backgrounds that would have you showing up at their doorstep anyway. Unsavory types.”

“More unsavory than Fleet?”

“Yes. I would be happy to send you all the information Shinya has on them if it will ease your conscience.” He finishes with the bandaging and pulls your pant leg down.

“I believe you. Or will try to.”

He tries to stand and you grasp his wrist.

“Why did you stay behind?”

“Why do you think?” His eyes meet yours, the wrinkles around the edges softening.

“Thank you,” you whisper and swallow. “For staying behind for me.”

He graces you with a gentle smile, placing a hand over yours. There’s a light squeeze.

—

Back on your ship, that Delgado had carried you to against your protestations, he makes the only real substantial meal you have. A soba noodle pack. While he’s distracted, you remove your suit. You plop down in a chair at the table and wait. It’s not a long wait. He sets down two servings. One for him and one for you. He also places a juice drink pack near your bowl before sliding into the seat across from you. He hands you a spoon. You take it and he stirs his soup. Cringing, you prepare for the lecture you’re sure he has prepared. Something along the lines of needing to keep more than just protein packs and oatmeal in your food stores. Probably tack on how you need substantial meals if you’re going to be out kicking ass into all hours of the day and night.

“How was your time in Paradiso,” he asks, much to your surprise, before slurping his own noodles.

It takes you a minute to process but you blink the surprise away. “Not relaxing. I ended up doing some corporate espionage. For a tea recipe.”

His nose crinkles with a disgusted face. “Why would you subject yourself to that kind of torture?”

“Call it a moment of temporary insanity,” you shrug and sip some of the broth from the bowl.

“A moment?” He laughs. Then shakes his head.

“You’re one to mock me when you’re dining with The Mantis inside of the Razorleaf.”

“I suppose I too am having a moment of temporary locura.”

You chuckle with him and the two of you finish off your noodles in a contented silence. He collects the dishes and takes them to the sink, washing them. You slide out of your chair and slink up behind him, curling your hands around his hips.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “I owe you twice now.”

Slowly, with suds still on his fingers, he twists to face you. Cupping his face in your hands, you gaze into the warmth of his sun touched eyes. His hands snake around your hips, surely leaving wet prints, and grasps your ass, tugging you near. Your thumbs graze along his stubbled jawline as you inch your lips a singular breath away from his. Closing the tiny gap, he nibbles on your lower lip before he slants slightly, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He consumes you with a devouring kiss.

He’s less restrained than you, hands exploring every part of your body that he can manage to reach. Your clothes, is now the towel that sops up all the suds and water from the fingertips. Spinning you to swap places, he pins you against the counter and you melt in his hands. His fingers find their way under your shirt and he glides them up, rolling the tee up as his hands follow. Lifting your hands above your head, he slides the shirt off your arms and tosses it aside. He works at your pants next, hooking his fingers in the elastic. He stretches and shuffles them down to your ankles and you kick them off.

Hands around your waist again, he lifts you just enough to set you on the counter and peel your panties down your thighs, all the way pat your ankles. He shoots them across the ship and turns back to you with a self satisfied smirk.

“You’re gonna have to go fetch those when you’re done with me,” you scold.

He raises a brow but lowers it as he digs the pads of his fingers into the top of your thighs. “I don’t think so. Besides, I will be the one giving orders,” he spreads your thighs apart, “around here.”

With a sharp intake of breath he eyes you and then takes one step to stand between your legs. Unhooking your bra with nimble fingers, he slides the straps down your arms and then tosses it somewhere behind him before cupping each of your breasts in his hands, squeezing.

“Dios mío. You are incredible,” he breathes. He continues to fondle your breasts and then pinches and rolls your nipples between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“Why thank you, papi.”

He laughs before bending and drawing a nipple into his mouth. You let out a soft sigh as the warmth and tenderness of his tongue against your skin soothes away lingering pain, replacing it with an inner ache of desire. As if reading your mind, one of his hands travels down your middle, coming to rest at your cunt. He cups you, swirling his thumb around your clit as his mouth moves to the other breast.

“Already so wet for me.” Continuing to tease you, he slips a finger inside of you, curling just slightly and you clench around it while he continues to increase yowant with the steady circling of his thumb. “How long have you been wanting me to touch you, mi princesa codiciosa?”

With parted lips, you meet his intent gaze as he guides another finger inside you. A shattered sigh slips loose. You answer, “the moment I saw you.”

He rewards you with another pump of his fingers, this time going deeper. Muscles contracting to keep him right where he is, he thumbs your clit more.

“I am unsurprised. So helpless and needy for my touch.” There’s a cluck of his tongue. “Finally, something you can’t do for yourself.”

“I can,” you retort. You try to sound more firm and condescending but it comes out more breathless.

His brow shoots up. “Oh?”

“I just don’t want to,” you whine.

He shares a small, self satisfied smirk. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, the pressure for release building slow but bright and blooming. You try to scoot and take more of him in. As soon as you try to grind he withdraws, leaving you wanting.

“Why is that?” He coaxes an answer from you, grasping your chin to meet his gaze while he thumbs the line of your jaw with your own slick.

“Because sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of,” you admit.

“You don’t like doing everything for yourself? Maybe I should make you.”

You shake your head no in his grip. “Please, Del. Help me feel good.”

He releases your chin and trails that hand down your body, thumb resting on your clit again. With his other hand, he frees his cock from his waistband. He strokes down his hard shaft and swipes his tip along your slick folds. Once, twice and then a third time, taunting you.

“Delgado, please.” He smirks with your plea and with his nails digging into the side of your thigh, he thrusts deep into you with a groan.

With a sharp intake of breath, your hands reach out to grasp anything. His biceps, then his shoulders. The back of his neck. They end up landing in his hair as he drives into you.

“More,” you manage to say.

“More? Dios mío, so fucking greedy.”

But he moves his hand further up your thigh, the other trailing across your stomach and side, falling to rest at the small of your back. Gliding the one around your thigh to clasp the underside of your leg, he wraps it around his waist and keeps it supported. The angle he has now makes you cry out with his next thrust, penetrating you even deeper. “Yes, that’s it. You take me so well,” he practically coos.

He sets a perfect pace. Not too slow but not too fast. Allows you to become lost in the ebb and flow of your building orgasm, hand slowly slipping, losing your grip with each progressive moan that he encourages from your mouth. Your hand plunges into the sink of dissipated suds and cold water and he steadies you with the hand at your back. Scooting you forward just a bit, he fucks you and fusses over you.

“Hands in my hair, mi vida.”

The one hand still wet, you follow his instructions, threading your hands through his salt and pepper hair and grasping the short strands tight.

“That’s it.” He continues to pound into you, coaxing more shattered cries from your lips. “I’ve got you,” he reassures as the pleasure builds, your walls gripping his cock.

Your eyes close, seeing nothing. Only relishing in that sweet release that spreads the pleasure throughout your body in an electrifying pulse. Every fiber of your being lights up with tingling numbness. His thrusts slow as he pulls you even closer, holding you. He continues to fuck you gently as you come down from your high until you feel the warmth of him spilling inside of you with a low groan. His head falling against your chest. His grip on your leg loosens and you let it slowly slide back to the counter where it drapes over the edge. His cock continues to quiver inside of you and you pull his head up to look at his satisfied and hazy gaze. You pull him into a hungry kiss, remaining locked in his arms for a few moments longer.

He releases your lips and combs his finger through your hair. “Is that what you needed, my vida?”

“Mmm,” you hum, “yes. Thank you.”

—

After a warm shower, Delgado sits on the couch, both of you only half clothed, and he pulls your feet into his lap. A softer beat of music plays in the background. You’ve got your tablet in hand, playing your favorite comedy vid on the screen. You chuckle a little and then laugh as he grabs one foot, tickling the bottom. You jerk away. But he grabs your ankle and tugs it back. Starts massaging the tender portion between the ball and the heel. You groan a little and set your tablet down in your lap.

“I don’t want to take you home.”

“So don’t,” he says, his thumbs placing pressure into your heel.

You smirk. “Is this where you tell me you’re giving up your life of piracy to become The Mantis’ sidekick?”

“You are delusional.” He picks up your other foot and starts massaging it.

“Too bad. You’d make a cute sidekick.”

“It is more thrilling to be known as your arch nemesis. I would like to keep it that way.”

“What a shame.”

“I do not see it that way.” He places a kiss on your foot and pushes your feet aside to crawl up your body, placing a palm next to each side of your head, pressing the couch cushion down. “I keep you in business.”

You laugh in his face at the absurdity of his statement. “I have enough crime without you to keep me in business.” You reach up and run a hand through his hair.

“Ah, but you have to admit, it is more thrilling this way. Tangling yourself up with me.”

“Mmm, I suppose I do see the appeal of tangling myself up with such a naughty pirate. But I may need further convincing.”

His face inches closer to yours, a devilish grin spreading on his face. “Of course you do,” he says before biting your lower lip and melting against you in a deep and lingering kiss.

#bear writes #starfield #starfield fanfic #delgado x reader #an adventure with a little spice #hurt/comfort #enemies who are lovers

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cluuny · 10 days

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can you guys chill lmao. just trying to help

Sapphire is a precious gemstone, a variety of the mineral corundum, consisting of aluminium oxide (α-Al2O3) with trace amounts of elements such as iron, titanium, cobalt, lead, chromium, vanadium, magnesium, boron, and silicon. The name sapphire is derived from the Latin word sapphirus, itself from the Greek word sappheiros (σάπφειρος), which referred to lapis lazuli. It is typically blue, but natural "fancy" sapphires also occur in yellow, purple, orange, and green colors; "parti sapphires" show two or more colors. Red corundum stones also occur, but are called rubies rather than sapphires. Pink-colored corundum may be classified either as ruby or sapphire depending on locale. Commonly, natural sapphires are cut and polished into gemstones and worn in jewelry. They also may be created synthetically in laboratories for industrial or decorative purposes in large crystal boules. Because of the remarkable hardness of sapphires – 9 on the Mohs scale (the third hardest mineral, after diamond at 10 and moissanite at 9.5) – sapphires are also used in some non-ornamental applications, such as infrared optical components, high-durability windows, wristwatch crystals and movement bearings, and very thin electronic wafers, which are used as the insulating substrates of special-purpose solid-state electronics such as integrated circuits and GaN-based blue LEDs. Sapphire is the birthstone for September and the gem of the 45th anniversary. A sapphire jubilee occurs after 65 years.

Sapphire is one of the two gem-varieties of corundum, the other being ruby (defined as corundum in a shade of red). Although blue is the best-known sapphire color, they occur in other colors, including gray and black, and also can be colorless. A pinkish orange variety of sapphire is called padparadscha.

Significant sapphire deposits are found in Australia, Afghanistan, Cambodia, Cameroon, China (Shandong), Colombia, Ethiopia, India Jammu and Kashmir (Padder, Kishtwar), Kenya, Laos, Madagascar, Malawi, Mozambique, Myanmar (Burma), Nigeria, Rwanda, Sri Lanka, Tanzania, Thailand, United States (Montana) and Vietnam. Sapphire and rubies are often found in the same geographical settings, but they generally have different geological formations. For example, both ruby and sapphire are found in Myanmar's Mogok Stone Tract, but the rubies form in marble, while the sapphire forms in granitic pegmatites or corundum syenites.

Every sapphire mine produces a wide range of quality, and origin is not a guarantee of quality. For sapphire, Jammu and Kashmir receives the highest premium, although Burma, Sri Lanka, and Madagascar also produce large quantities of fine quality gems.

The cost of natural sapphires varies depending on their color, clarity, size, cut, and overall quality. Sapphires that are completely untreated are worth far more than those that have been treated. Geographical origin also has a major impact on price. For most gems of one carat or more, an independent report from a respected laboratory such as GIA, Lotus Gemology, or SSEF, is often required by buyers before they will make a purchase.

#caeso post #?#anonymous

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jefkphotography · 4 months

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A stainless steel, jeu de boule.

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acknowledgetheabsurd · 1 month

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It's Sunday. The day is almost beautiful, with wind. They are playing boules on the road below and I can hear the clash of the balls from my room. The world is peaceful. How nice it would be to have the heart of a boule player in a Provençal village on a Sunday! But I promised myself to tell you the facts.

It's not much, it's true. Life continues with one more guest at the meals, Michèle Halphen who has moved to the hotel. I think she's leaving tomorrow. I like her but her sadness adds to the inertia of the days here. Yesterday, after a week's absence, Dolo came to liven up the house. I took her home in the evening. Sad too: she has been waiting for S[artre] for weeks, he said he would come at the end of this month and he announces that it will be at the beginning of the next. In short, things are not going well for her. Cheerful, isn't it?

I was repeating to myself Vigny's verse: "Separated lovers were united at the altars"! Come on, it's not for tomorrow. More important news: my brother is coming tomorrow. As the G[allimard]s are still here (they leave on the 20th) I will lodge him at the hotel. I will go tomorrow afternoon to Cannes to look for him. I am happy to see him again, but worried about him. I would like him to get well again. What else? A doctor from Grasse came to dinner with his wife. She had lost her mother following an operation that had caused an intestinal obstruction. The mourning was eight days old. Now you know that the company of more than four people exhausts me. Moreover, you can't count on the G[allimard]s to animate the conversation. So I made a great effort to talk about anything. The result was that I spoke successively about the cemetery in Cabris, about surgeons who are butchers, and about intestinal obstruction (all this without thinking of the deceased, of course). To finish, I told the story of Chamfort, where a doctor talking about his deceased patient said: "He is dead, no doubt, but he died cured."

On Wednesday Gide, who is in Juan-les-Pins where he is translating an English play for Barrault invited us all to lunch. Cartier, the producer I told you about and about whom you didn't tell me anything (but you are answering less and less to the questions I ask you. Linotte!) writes to me about his projects. I don't know why I trust him. After all, maybe we'll see The Plague on the screen. Now it's my turn. I've been muddy for two days. Headaches, vague nausea, I feel like I'm pregnant. I've even lost my rested complexion, but I guess it will pass. It is true that this waiting, it is silly to say, is so anxious that it ends up tiring me even physically. I exhaust myself imagining you and living our meeting in advance. Yet I behave wisely: a well-organized schedule, regular work (which does not necessarily mean fruitful work. There are good days and bad days, that's all). But the deprivation of happiness sometimes has the effect of under-nourishment, of asphyxiation too.

All my hope, all my courage comes finally from what I expect as a total reunion, love, emotion, joy, absolute freedom between us, bodies and soul, transparency and naturalness. And I do not wait for it as a utopia. I wait for it because I am sure of it. And it is not so far, no, it is not so far. Because listen carefully: yesterday in the mountain I saw the first flowers of the almond tree. The tree was still black. But at the ends of the branches a dozen or so frail and soft flowers were already rustling in the wind. You understand, my love, Maria dear! It was the extreme point of the extreme beginning of spring. And a great impulse came to my eyes and heart, which I can call no more than an impulse of adoration. I made a vow. I looked for a long time at the crying petals. And I went home, my heart full of love. Goodbye, my beautiful and wonderful love. I kiss my Valentine and give her the few flowers that we should give on Valentine's Day to the one that we love. You are the one I love, before every spring, and I kiss you deeply, with all my love.

Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 12, 1950 [#187]

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