#beautiful leggs

[ornithorynquerouge]

Alexandra Agoston by Chris Colls

#alexandra agoston #chris colls #beautiful leggs

[doctorass]

Long long Heels...

#drass #leggs #thank you for reblogging #follow if you like #beauty #tight clothes #babes #reblog #follow

[samariaregaladoworld]

📸💥🙌Nice & Tanned 💛☀️😍👑

#samaria regalado #gorgeous #beauty #long hair #photoshoot #beautiful model #modelshoot #beautiful #hot #thick babe #leggs

[differenttypesofbeautyfashion]

Cloud bath ☁🧼🛁

#woman #beauty #naturalbeauty #freshbeauty #natural #bathroom #style #leggs #eyes #seduction

[onlytopost]

Cadon le foglie -

un'incomprensibile

legge del mondo.

#haiku #haikupoetry #poesia #haiku poetry #haiku italiani #love haiku #my haiku #haiku poem #micropoetry #autunno #autumn vibes #autumn #bellezza #beauty #foliage #myhaiku #legge #original haiku #l'incomprensibile #incomprensibile #foglie #stagione

[leggsposts]

#leggs #sexy #great body #beautiful legs

[pastelclovds]

hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

#꒰ 💕 ꒱ ⎯ nex #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #allied mastercomputer #am ihnmaims #am #ihnmaims brainrot #am x reader #ihnmaism x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #horror #꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ ⎯ ame writes #dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!character

[tyresdeg]

Katherine Legge will attempt to qualify for the 108th Indianapolis 500 in an entry fielded by Dale Coyne Racing with RWR, with primary sponsorship from beauty brand e.l.f.

“I’m honored to be back at the ‘500’ to represent such a groundbreaking and historic effort put forward by e.l.f.,” Legge said. “e.l.f. is truly changing the face of motorsports by lifting women up and challenging norms. Janet Guthrie set the stage for this type of moment back in the ‘70s, and I’m honored to carry it forward with Dale Coyne Racing with RWR this year.

“When I was 9 years old, I decided I wanted to be a race car driver, and I never would have dreamed a beauty brand would one day be my primary sponsor in the Indy 500. Together with DCR, Honda and e.l.f., we will truly empower women who are breaking barriers, pushing boundaries and testing the limits by giving them the confidence and a path toward realizing their dreams, whatever they may be.”

#🦵🦵🦵 #elf has been killing it with the ads lately i’m soo excited #pink car!! i want merch!! #katherine legge #indycar #indy 500 2024 #* #this event was super cute #there was like no good pictures though 😔

[dreamonseems]

King Haaland Part 2

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: Reader is brought to Norway as a slave, and King Erling buys her.

If you guys have any requests for this series, let me know in the comments or send me a message!

Ok, so I'm using Google translate for the Norwegian language, so if you speak, I'm sorry if it's not the proper way of writing it, lol.

Also, I am so happy you guys have been liking this series! Thanks for all the love, guys!

"Kom, liten en, for å sove,(come little one time to sleep)" King Haaland beckoned, hoisting me over his shoulders. Confusion and panic welled up within me, causing me to stammer out, "Wha... what?!" Seeking reassurance, I turned to Celine, desperately hoping for some clarity.

"You will be fine. King Haaland is a good man. He won't do anything to you that you don't want. You're just sleeping in the same bed, that is all," Celine assured me, offering a small, comforting smile.

As King Haaland strode down the hall, carrying me like a sack of flour, my heart raced with a mix of trepidation and a flicker of hope. He kicked open a massive wooden door adorned with intricate carvings and gently placed me on the floor as he closed it behind us.

Taking a moment to survey the room, my eyes wandered over the grandeur it held. A large bed, a wardrobe, and a trunk caught my attention, while weapons adorned the walls alongside cozy animal furs. The juxtaposition of comfort and danger left me unsettled, yet I found myself drawn to the bed, curiosity compelling me to poke at its softness.

"Fortsett å legge deg ned,(go on lay down)" he commanded, breaking my reverie. Startled, I turned to face him. "What? You do remember I do not understand, right?" I blurted out, a surprised squeak escaping my lips. Standing before me, he stood naked, his physique a testament to his strength and the intricate Viking tattoos adorning his powerful frame, are beautiful. Clearing my mind of such distracting thoughts, I quickly regained composure and focused on the immediate issue at hand.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I quickly covered my eyes. "Where are your clothes?" I demanded pointing at his clothes, my voice tinged with exasperation.

Confusion clouded his face as he looked down and burst into laughter. "Vi skal sove. Jeg trenger ikke klærne mine, lille,(we are going to sleep I do not need my clothes little one)" he chuckled. I felt my frustration deepen. "I still do not understand," I confessed, my brow furrowing in confusion.

He gestured, making signs for sleeping, pointing at his clothes, and then signaling "no." I deduced that he meant he didn't wear clothes to sleep. But how was I supposed to sleep with him naked?

He sat down on the bed and pulled me towards him, pointing at his hair. It was as if he was instructing me to undo his braids. Tentatively, I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself on my knees. With hesitant fingers, I began to unravel his intricate braids. As I finished, I ran my fingers through his hair, untangling any knots. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, which both surprised and unnerved me.

I swiftly withdrew my hands, realizing the intimacy of the act. In my haste, I lost my balance and began to fall, but Haaland's swift reflexes caught me, preventing my descent. I found myself perched on his lap, his deep gaze fixed upon me.

"Vær forsiktig, lille,(Be careful little one)" he whispered, his eyes holding mine with intensity. At this close proximity, I couldn't help but notice his true handsomeness. He looked young, his features softened, and it occurred to me that perhaps he wasn't much older than I.

Despite this realization, I pulled away from him, retreating under the furs and signaling my desire to sleep. He chuckled and shook his head, retreating to his side of the bed. There were no unwanted advances or intrusive touches. He simply lay down, closed his eyes, and left me to find solace in the comforting darkness.

As I nestled myself beneath the furs, a wave of relief washed over me. In this moment, it seemed that everything would be alright.

The enigmatic King Haaland respected my boundaries, and a glimmer of hope emerged, whispering that perhaps this unexpected journey held more than just fear and uncertainty.

As the morning light illuminated the room, its soft beams dancing upon the walls, I slowly became aware of my surroundings. The weight of the previous night's events still lingered in my mind, intertwining with the present reality. King Haaland, a figure both captivating and mysterious, sat on the edge of the bed, his presence commanding attention.

The room seemed to hold its breath as our eyes met. I felt a flutter of vulnerability, unsure of how to navigate my next move. His gaze, though inscrutable, held a certain tenderness that belied his formidable stature. A blush crept across my cheeks, and I instinctively looked away, momentarily unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

"God morgen, lille,(good morning little one)," he spoke, his voice a deep and melodic rumble. The words, foreign and yet strangely comforting, hung in the air. I gathered my courage and met his gaze once more, searching for any clues to his intentions. There, amidst the enigma of his eyes, I detected a glimmer of kindness, a flicker of understanding. It was a stark contrast to the tales of Viking kings I had grown up hearing—ruthless conquerors with hearts as cold as the winter seas.

"M-Morgen,(Morning)," I stuttered, attempting to speak his language, my voice barely above a whisper. I worried about my pronunciation, fearing that my words would fail to convey my thoughts clearly. However, his slight smile reassured me, as if he understood the meaning behind my imperfect words. It was a gesture of acceptance, a gentle acknowledgment of my efforts to bridge the gap between us.

As the sun ascended higher in the sky, signifying the start of a new day, I found myself seated beside King Haaland, partaking in a morning meal. The feast before us was a display of abundance, with an array of fruits, freshly baked bread, and hearty meats. My stomach churned with a mix of hunger and apprehension, unsure of what this shared meal meant for our newfound relationship.

Haaland ate with a measured grace, his movements fluid and controlled. There was an air of discipline and strength that emanated from him, a testament to the rigorous training he undertook as a Viking king. As he finished his meal, he stood, signaling his departure to engage in his daily training regimen. With a nod to me, he left the room, his figure exuding an aura of power and determination.

Left in the company of Celine, the day unfurled before us like a tapestry waiting to be woven. Together, we embarked on a series of chores and tasks that had become our daily routine. Yet, amidst the mundane tasks, Celine took it upon herself to teach me the intricacies of the language spoken by King Haaland and his people.

Words flowed between us, both foreign and familiar. Celine patiently guided me through the pronunciations, the grammar, and the nuances of the language. With each lesson, I felt a growing connection to this new world, a sense of empowerment as I began to grasp the means of communication in this foreign land. It was as if the words themselves were bridges, spanning the divide between my old life and the one I now found myself in.

Throughout the day, we moved from one chore to another, the sound of laughter occasionally punctuating the otherwise quiet atmosphere. As I swept the floor or tended to the hearth, I absorbed every piece of information Celine imparted, eager to grasp the intricacies of this culture and its language. It was a way for me to find my footing in this unfamiliar realm, to understand the customs and traditions that governed the lives of those who called themselves Vikings.

With each passing moment, I grew more adept at stringing together coherent sentences, my tongue beginning to mimic the inflections and cadences of the language. It was a small victory, a glimmer of progress in a sea of uncertainty. And as the day gave way to evening, I found solace in the fact that, step by step, I was inching closer to understanding the world that now enveloped me.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks transformed into a month, my life within the halls of Haaland's kingdom settled into a rhythm that felt strangely comforting. Each night, I would find myself in the embrace of sleep, sharing the same bed as the grand Viking king. The initial apprehension had dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of familiarity and trust.

Mornings began with the sunlight peeking through the windows, casting gentle rays upon the room. Haaland would rise from his slumber, his presence commanding, and his gaze warm. We would gather for breakfast, sharing meals that were no longer marked by tension or unease. It was during these shared moments that I realized Haaland's true nature, one that defied the expectations often associated with kings.

Throughout the day, my hours were occupied by a myriad of tasks and chores. From tending to the castle gardens to assisting in the kitchen, I immersed myself in the daily workings of the kingdom. Celine remained my steadfast companion, guiding me through the intricacies of the language spoken by the Viking people. Together, we navigated the complexities of grammar and vocabulary, piece by piece unraveling the secrets of their linguistic world.

However, it was during one of our conversations that Haaland revealed a surprising truth. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he confessed that he understood and spoke my language, albeit to a limited extent. He had learned it in secret during Celine's early days as a slave in his kingdom, he started practicing it more when I was brought here. It was a testament to his intelligence and curiosity, a demonstration of his desire to bridge the gap between us.

As the days turned into nights, Haaland proved himself to be a benevolent ruler, respectful of my boundaries and wishes. He possessed a playful spirit, often engaging in lighthearted banter and jests, effortlessly dispelling any remnants of fear or apprehension that may have lingered. It became clear that beneath the hardened exterior of a Viking king lay a compassionate and understanding soul.

Haaland's linguistic prowess extended beyond my own language. Through his interactions with merchants and travelers from distant lands, he had acquired fragments of various tongues, becoming a polyglot of sorts. This revelation only deepened my admiration for the king, highlighting his thirst for knowledge and his willingness to embrace diversity.

In this dance of languages and cultures, my world expanded. I found solace in the fact that despite our differences, Haaland and I could communicate and connect on a more profound level. The barriers that once seemed insurmountable crumbled, leaving room for understanding and companionship to flourish. Within the halls of the kingdom, I discovered not only a king but a man who defied expectations, captivating me with his intellect, his kindness, and his capacity for growth.

Today, an unfamiliar emptiness greeted me as I awoke in the vast expanse of the bed. It was a stark contrast to the usual routine, where King Haaland would patiently await my awakening, eager to embark on our shared breakfast ritual. Uncertainty gripped my heart as I made my way through the echoing corridors towards the grand feast hall.

As I neared the hall, the clamor of raised voices pierced through the air, causing me to halt in my tracks. Haaland's commanding voice reverberated against the walls, sending shivers down my spine. My instinct was to retreat, to remain hidden and observe from the shadows. With bated breath, I peered around the corner, my eyes widening at the scene unfolding before me.

"Finn den hesten og bring ham til meg!(find that horseshit and bring him to me)" Haaland's words thundered through the hall, his frustration palpable as he directed his words towards Gunnar, Knut, Sven, and Balder—his most trusted warriors. Their determined nods indicated their compliance as they swiftly exited the hall, leaving Haaland seething in his own discontent. In an outburst of rage, he lashed out, his foot connecting with a nearby chair, shattering it into pieces.

My heart skipped a beat as I involuntarily flinched at the sound of destruction. In that moment, Haaland's piercing gaze pierced through my hiding place, his eyes locking onto mine. "Forlat meg!(leave me)," he bellowed, his voice echoing through the hall, the words stinging like a verbal blow. Feeling the weight of his anger directed towards me, I turned on my heels, fleeing from his presence.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, my heart heavy with a mixture of confusion, hurt, and disappointment. Haaland's outburst had shattered the delicate equilibrium that had been established between us. The realization that he could unleash such fury upon me left me feeling vulnerable and betrayed. Yet, I refused to let my emotions consume me. With every ounce of strength, I willed myself to be resilient, to hold back the tears that threatened to betray my true emotions.

Steeling myself against the pain, I pressed onward, reminding myself of the strength that resided within. I refused to let this sudden shift in Haaland's demeanor define my worth. With each determined step, I vowed to remain steadfast, even in the face of uncertainty and unspoken questions that lingered in the air. I would find solace within myself and seek understanding in due time.

As I retreated to the solitude of my chambers, I allowed myself a moment to collect my thoughts. The once familiar walls now seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with their oppressive silence. I longed for the comforting presence of Celine, but she was nowhere to be found. It appeared that I was truly alone in this bewildering turn of events.

Resting my trembling hands on the edge of a table, I closed my eyes, attempting to steady my racing heartbeat. Haaland's anger had struck me deeply, leaving me questioning everything I had come to know about him. Was his previous kindness merely a facade? Or was there something more beneath the surface that I failed to comprehend?

As I battled with my inner turmoil, a soft knock on the chamber door startled me. Tentatively, I approached, hesitant to face whoever stood on the other side. Slowly opening the door, I found myself met with Celine's concerned gaze. Her presence brought a flicker of relief amidst the storm raging within me.

"Y/N, I heard what happened. Are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

I struggled to find my voice, but eventually managed to utter, "I... I don't understand. Why did he... why did he yell at me like that?"

Celine sighed, stepping into the chamber and closing the door behind her. She gently placed a hand on my shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Y/N, you must understand that Haaland's temper is as fierce as his loyalty. He carries the weight of his responsibilities heavily, and at times, it spills over onto those around him. It was not directed at you personally."

Her words provided some solace, but the ache in my heart remained. "But why did he tell me to leave? What did I do to deserve such treatment?"

Celine looked at me sympathetically, her eyes filled with empathy. "I believe Haaland's outburst was driven by frustration and an overwhelming sense of pressure. He didn't mean to hurt you, Y/N. Please remember that."

Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over the dam I had painstakingly constructed. "I just don't know how to face him now. How can I trust him after this?"

Celine's grip tightened, offering me the strength I desperately sought. "Trust takes time, Y/N. We all have our flaws and moments of weakness. Give him the chance to explain, to make amends. Remember, there was kindness in him before, and there may still be kindness within him yet."

Her words echoed within me, resonating with a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished. Perhaps this was a test, a hurdle we needed to overcome to forge a deeper connection. With renewed determination, I wiped away my tears and straightened my posture.

Later that night, the room was immersed in darkness, with only a faint glimmer of moonlight filtering through the window. My body lay tense on the bed, entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. The events of the day weighed heavily on my mind, casting a shadow of dread over the chamber.

In the midst of my restless slumber, I sensed his presence before I saw him. Haaland's figure materialized, his silhouette cast against the dimly lit room. He moved with a familiarity that was both unsettling and comforting, his steps echoing through the silence.

My eyes fluttered open, and I pretended to be asleep, hoping to gather my thoughts before confronting him. I felt the mattress yield under his weight as he settled beside me, the faint scent of Mead wafting through the air. His voice, tinged with a mix of regret and vulnerability, broke the stillness.

"Are you awake?" he inquired softly, his voice carrying a hint of apprehension. I remained silent, my heart pounding in my chest, uncertain of how to respond.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, his frustration evident. The warmth of his arms enveloped me, drawing me closer to him. Anxiety coursed through my veins as I wrestled with my conflicting emotions.

"I am sorry, little one. I did not mean to yell at you. Please forgive me," he implored, his lips pressing gentle kisses against my forehead. His apology hung in the air, laden with a sense of sincerity that tugged at my heartstrings.

"Why?" I found myself asking, my voice barely above a whisper. His admission caught me off guard, my curiosity piqued.

"I have a traitor in my ranks, selling my secrets. The frustration got the best of me," he explained, a mixture of weariness and determination coloring his words.

I let out a frustrated huff, my anger mingling with understanding. "Fine, I understand. Just... don't do it again," I conceded, my tone softening slightly. Despite my lingering annoyance, a sense of empathy welled within me, recognizing the burdens he carried as a king.

He chuckled, his laughter resonating through the darkness. "Yes, little one. I promise," he vowed, his voice laced with sincerity. A shy smile tugged at the corners of my lips, his presence somehow managing to ease the tension that enveloped us.

"Now, go to sleep. You're drunk," I teased, attempting to lighten the mood. His laughter filled the room once more, mingling with the soothing rhythm of his breath.

"Yes, you are quite fiery tonight," he jestingly remarked, yet his hold tightened around me, pulling me closer. As sleep claimed him, I found solace in the safety of his arms, an unexpected warmth radiating through my being.

That night, as slumber claimed us both, I found myself nestled in the king's arms for the first time. Unbeknownst to me, an ember of happiness ignited within my heart, signaling the possibility of a deeper connection. In the midst of uncertainty, a glimmer of hope emerged, weaving together the delicate threads of forgiveness, understanding, and the potential for a future intertwined.

Part 3

#fanfiction #fanfic #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland #erling haaland x y/n #erling #erling haaland x you #erling håland #haaland x reader #haaland #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland fluff #erling haaland fanfic #haaland fluff #haaland imagine #short story fluff #short story #fluff #man city imagine #manchester city imagine #manchester city #man city #footballer #football #soccer #viking

[ornithorynquerouge]

Photographer Peter Lindbergh

#peter lindbergh #beautiful leggs #sexy chick #seductive girl #charming babe #dream girl #awesome body #amazing beauty #so hot and sexy

[doctorass]

Hot hot heels 👠

#drass #leggs #thank you for reblogging #follow if you like #tight clothes #beauty #babes

[hippolotamus]

Song 44 for a spotify inspired drabble please? If possible to Buddie? If not any ship is good!

Hello, friend!!!!! I thought for sure yours would be sad but the words took a very different direction. Also it's not even remotely drabble length... *shrugs*

Buck doesn’t remember exactly when the dreams started, just that it was sometime during his 1.0 phase. Like his subconscious realized before he did that sleeping around wasn’t cutting it. That he craved something deeper and more complex than purely physical relationships.

The first time he brushes the experience off as odd, but not necessarily unwelcome. He remembers “waking up” in his dream, laying in his bed. The thing that makes this different is the sense of calm and belonging. The feeling of being wanted. As far as he can tell, he isn’t imagining anyone else with him, yet he still feels like he’s being held. Truthfully, it’s nice. 

Night after night the dreams continue whether he’s at home or the station. Then, when he least expects it, they suddenly change. The entity cocooning around him begins to take on more shape, progressing with every sleep until there’s a fully formed person. 

The revelation, however intriguing, is frustrating because he isn’t allowed to see them. Whoever it is has strong arms, is about the same height, and holds him so close. Like Buck is the most precious person to exist. Sometimes he swears he can feel warm breath tickling the back of his neck. 

And then Buck begins dating Abby. As he spends the night more often, the dreams stop. He would be lying if he said that didn't bother him. Buck is happy with Abby – she’s sweet, beautiful, and the sex is nothing to complain about – but there’s something missing. It creates a persistent longing. An ache for a person who only exists in his dreams. Kinda pathetic when he thinks about it. That doesn’t stop the flood of relief when Abby leaves and the dreams begin again as if they never stopped.

Now, though, Buck gets more details. This person – man – has soft, chestnut hair; cheekbones that could probably cut glass;  thick, dark eyelashes; and a hint of stubble Buck longs to trace with this thumb and have it be real. He’s beautiful. A term Buck’s never really considered in terms of the guys he’s found attractive, but it fits here. 

The man always appears peaceful and unburdened, though not completely. As if there’s an undercurrent of worry that only leaves when he’s asleep. 

Buck starts to question his own sanity when he finds himself longing to soothe whatever is bothering his… person. If he didn’t think it would get him sent straight back to the department therapist he would say something to Bobby. And he’s not sure if he can take it to Hen either. So he keeps it to himself, researching anything he can find. Needless to say the results are disappointing. Every promising article or forum posting leads to an eventual dead end. He begins to consider that he may never have an explanation. 

~

“Now that is a beautiful man,” Chim exclaims.

“Where’s the lie? And I like girls,” Hen adds. 

Buck whips around to see who they’re talking about, nearly dropping his phone in the process. 

“Holy shit,” he murmurs. “It’s him.”

send me 1-100 and i'll write you a drabble based on the corresponding song

#spotify drabble asks #buddie ficlet #kinda #hippo writes

[locallyloathed]

Everyone around me is so, so tired.

This beautiful design for Ted was made by @egg-on-a-legg!

#rip to my sister who finally actually listened to the audio drama and immediately asked me if she needed to hire a therapist on my behalf #and to my coworker who read the story for the first time and had to double check with me that I didn’t mean some other story called ihnmaims #and to my friend who refused to do either of the above but was forced to listen to me rant about him for a good 35 minutes #they’re in the trenches while I stay in the gutter #also go check out egg-on-a-legg they’re one of the absolute god-tier IHNM artists on tumblr #ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims ted #ted ihnmaims

[copperbadge]

[ID: An art nouveau building’s top floor from the outside; decorative capitals top the building and set into an archway clearly meant for it is a painting of a woman in medieval robes, holding a sword blade-downward. Carved underneath in marble relief is the word “Giustizia”.] 

One of the cool buildings I saw in Rome, which I didn’t get to photograph well or write much about at the time, was the building across from the Great Synagogue, the Villino Astengo. This is a photo (not mine) of a painting on the top floor exterior; one of the reasons I researched the building was this mural and the one across from it showing Scienza. You can see both paintings plus a number of fascinating architectural touches here. Legge and Verita (Law and Truth) are paintings I didn’t see and I’m not sure can be photographed based on where the wall they’re painted on is situated. 

Wikipedia tells us it was built as a show of wealth by a pair of brothers, Giulio and Carlo Astengo, on the edge of Rome’s Jewish ghetto, which by the time it was built was being uh, urban renovated? Basically the city had been doing public works to stop the constant flooding from the Tiber overflowing, and once that was under control the Ghetto was a lot more appealing as a place to build and reside. (I couldn’t determine in basic googling if the Astengo brothers were Jewish but I’m guessing not based on their social status in Italy.) 

It’s no longer a single home, and unclear whether it only houses businesses now or also has residential units. In googling I did come across a listing for the basement office, four rooms and about the same square footage as I have in my home; it’ll set you back about $600K and looks faintly hideous inside, but I suppose the beauty of the outside is what really matters in this case.... 

#rome #villino astengo #art nouveau #sam travels #the cheese tour

[chronicsheepdrawing]

Cranky Old Man Hours ft. @egg-on-a-legg's brainless wonder and @bloodmothsart's beautiful lad.

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am ihnmaims #allied mastercomputer #OC: Art #OC: Arsenic Masters #animals #mammals #felines #cats #house cats #You can tell when he's mellowed out and gotten married because of the eyeglasses #And he was wearing glasses to show that time had passed

[hasellia]

If someone bodyshames you for having body hair, know this;

a) They are wrong and an arsehole.

b) Body hair isn't dirty.

c) On the flip side, saying "body hair is natural" is an appeal to nature fallacy.

d) On the flip-flip side, humans are generally adapted to have some body covering. It doesn't mean that something can get messed up along the way though.

e) There is long standing research on how since at least the early 20th century, companies based on shaving products have manipulated western society into shaming women's body hair for profit.

f) If you don't like your body hair just as a preferance that's fine too. Be what you feel is right and good for you. Please don't take this to mean you have to not shave.

g) Bodyhair is very sexy.

h) Incredibly sexy.

i) Like oh my god. Holy shit. Jesus. Fuck. Woag. The arms of that woman. Legg. Silky toe beabs. Cheek? CHEEK!? Fuzxy kusses? Please. Fuck. Neuron system overheating. Aggagagagga.

j) Body hair isn't dirty. It's beautiful.

#body hair #body positive #body shaming #hair #body postivity #body posititivity #hornyposting #just a little...