#*turn and looks directly into the camera*

[jade4956]

Gracefully as ever

(The 22-23 team photo)

The sun was shining, the Stamford Bridge pitch was pristine, and the Chelsea Women’s squad was dressed in their fresh blue kits, ready for their official team photo.

Everything was going smoothly.

Well … almost.

Tahlia Bliss had been strategically placed on a bench in the middle row, just behind the front row of seated players and in front of the standing ones. It was the kind of placement that made her nervous, not quite grounded, but not fully secure either.

“Everyone look sharp,” the photographer instructed. “We’ll take a few test shots before the real ones.”

The players adjusted their poses, some cracking last-minute jokes, but overall, they looked as professional as ever.

Then, disaster struck.

Out of nowhere, a shadow passed over them.

Tahlia’s stomach dropped.

She barely had time to think before she heard the flap of wings above her.

A bird.

A huge one.

Flying directly overhead.

Tahlia’s entire body reacted before her brain could even process it.

With a yelp, she instinctively ducked, trying to avoid what she was 100% sure was about to be a full-scale bird attack. But in doing so, she completely lost her balance.

One second, she was on the bench. The next?

Gone.

She stacked it.

Spectacularly.

It all happened in slow motion.

Her foot slipped. Her arms flailed. She tried to grab onto something, anything, to stop herself from going down.

No luck.

Instead, she tumbled off the bench, barely missed Magdalena Eriksson’s shoulder, and landed with a thud on the pitch, sprawled out on her back, staring up at the sky. She basically did an unwanted front flip off of the bench.

Silence.

And then—

Complete and utter chaos.

The Chelsea squad lost it.

Erin Cuthbert? Already on the ground, clutching her stomach from laughing too hard.

Sam Kerr? Hands on her knees, wheezing.

Jess Carter? Crying. Actually crying.

Niamh Charles? Trying to help but laughing so much she’s useless.

Millie Bright? Clapping like a seal and gasping for air.

Even Emma Hayes, who was normally the one to keep them in check had to turn away for a moment to compose herself.

Tahlia just laid there, stunned.

The bird? Long gone.

The damage? Already done.

She groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Did anyone at least get that on camera?”

Erin, still gasping for air, pointed toward the photographers. “Mate… they got everything.”

Tahlia closed her eyes. Of course they did.

After about ten minutes of everyone trying to check if she was okay while still laughing uncontrollably, they finally pulled themselves together and took the proper team photo.

And, miraculously, it turned out perfect.

Everyone looked sharp, professional, and completely unbothered by the chaos that had unfolded just minutes earlier.

But then, because Chelsea’s social media team lived for the drama, they also posted something else.

Chelsea FC Twitter: “A solid team. A serious team. A fearless team… Well, almost.”

Attached?

A series of photos showing Tahlia’s complete downfall in perfect HD quality.

First frame: Tahlia spotting the bird, her face frozen in sheer terror.

Second frame: Tahlia ducking in panic, already losing balance.

Third frame: Tahlia mid-air, flailing, pure chaos.

Final frame: Tahlia on the ground, looking absolutely defeated, while the entire team is crying with laughter around her.

The internet went feral.

Chelsea fans:

“NAH, THEY DID HER DIRTY.”

“THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

“The third picture is a work of ART.”

“Tahlia vs. a bird… and the bird won.”

Tahlia, of course, had to respond.

Tahlia Bliss: “My legacy at Chelsea will not be my goals, assists, or trophies. It will be this moment. I hope you’re all happy.”

Millie Bright responded with a crying-laughing emoji.

Erin Cuthbert replied: “Not gonna lie, I’m framing this for my house.”

And Sam Kerr?

She simply posted a zoomed-in version of Tahlia mid-fall, captioned:

“Gracefully as ever.”

Tahlia would never, ever live this down.

————————————————————————

I had to write this the second I saw the request so I hope you like it and requests and asks are open

[jimin-bangtan]

""Where can I find the official version of a BTS video that I've seen around?"": BangtanTV Playlists

Did you ever see a piece of footage over and over but never knew where to find the complete, official, original material?

A lot of official content can be found in the same place on BTS's official YouTube Channel, BangtanTV. BigHit has been publishing material there since the beginning of BTS's career. They even post every BTS album,  song, and music video by the group and each member. 

Yes, they have monetized it to earn money from the views (And why shouldn't they?), but in exchange, they offer a world of free audio and video files that I personally have never seen any artist do.

We were and are able to see pre-debut footage, debut footage, and footage as their career grew: the good, the bad, and the cringy.  They spoke directly to us in simple vlogs prior to VLives continuing currently in WeLives (WeVerse). They showed and still show us behind the scenes material from backstage, practices, photoshoots, etc.  They filmed Festa conversations and celebrations, as well as took us on trips and other adventures with them.

Q: Where can I find all of this original content, directly from BigHit and BTS, in order to avoid possible misleading editing and to give them credit for their work? 

A: You can find a good amount of it - for both group and solo work - under the “Playlists” tab on BigHit’s Bangtan TV official YouTube channel. Once you click the Playlists tab, you will see over 80 folders, which were created to attempt to organize the thousands of videos.

EXAMPLES OF PLAYLISTS FOLDERS

BANGTAN BOMB

You’ve heard of Bangtan Bombs, right? Did you know that Bangtan Bombs include clips of BTS backstage moments, hotel time, performances, photo shoots, and video reactions?

Notice there are 858 Bangtan Bombs on this playlist. To see them all, you need to click “View Full Playlist” instead of just clicking the thumbnail. TIP: Turn on closed caption (CC) for translations for most items.

Links 1, 2, 3, 4

BTS FESTA

Did you know that all Festa events (anniversary celebrations) are contained in the Festa folder in the Playlists tab? There are 112 videos because the Festa playlist contains all the Festa performances, fan songs, conversations, and specially-released dance practice videos or other previously-unreleased items released as gifts to fans during the Festa time period.

Links 1, 2, 3

BANGTAN LOG

Did you know that since the start of their career, BTS has been talking directly to fans though cameras? RM (formerly known as Rap Monster), as their leader, led the way in the very first Bangtan Log in 2013 (starting at the bottom of the playlist). Some Lives were later done on other platforms and are not posted here, but most current Lives can now be found on the Weverse official platform. However, a few have been done on other unofficial sites (I’m looking at you, JK.), like TikTok, which may not be kept on official sites. (Note: The members' names were sometimes written in Korean.)

Links 1, 2, 3, 4

BTS PRACTICE VIDEOS

Did you know that almost all released dance practice videos can be found in this folder under the Playlists tab on BangtanTV?  I say “almost all” because BigHit tried to organize this for your convenience, but there are some items out of place at times. For example, some early dance practices were called [practice records] and were released for fans during Festa celebrations, so they are found in the BTS Festa folder instead.  However, most of the practices are found here, most often labelled [Choreography]. Still, a few can be found in more than one location. Go Figure. *shrug*

NOTE: If you search for a song with its English title, you may not find it because the song has been posted with its Korean spelling.  Still, with a bit of patience, you can find misplaced items.

Links 1, 2, 3

BTS ON AIR

Did you know BTS used to do radio interviews as a group? They have also performed at many music and talk shows, and have filmed a lot of commercials for products they were hired to promote. Were you aware documentation of those items could be found here?

Links 1, 2, 3, 4

BTS EPISODE

Did you know that there are videos that show the behind-the-scenes for moments and events where BTS attended or performed?  This folder contains moments from before, during, and/or after TV appearances, photo shoots, activities, and music video shoots, etc.

Links 1, 2

I again hope this information is helpful to new fans and existing fans alike. Since I didn't get to catch up on all the material I thought I'd get to while BTS was gone, I at least began improving my knowledge of and understanding of the material and platforms available. Unfortunately, during my time as a fan, the location of official information was mentioned but was, and still is, very rarely explained or provided. I feel it took far too long for me, as a fan, to know where and what these items were, so I wanted to share with others what I have discovered from my journey in case anyone else is having the same experience.

My goals are to help to lessen confusion for other fans and to increase the use of original content for BTS. I'm also hoping it diminishes the power of misinformation, which is prevalent in this fandom.

If you're looking for more BTS official content resources, check out my my pinned post and scroll down to the category of "Miscellaneous". I also created lists of as many official links for BTS members, BigHit, and Hybe as I could find at the moment. I will do my best to update them as I go. Please enjoy discovering, or rediscovering, gems in BTS's huge archive of official footage.

💜

[makeyoumine69]

squirting w/ patrick??

I'm so unwell about this.

NSFW

When you mentioned that you'd never experienced anything like squirting before, Patrick took it as a personal challenge, a kind of sacred duty. And he was really obsessed with this idea, so the man spent a lot of time exploring your body, catching every little reaction you made whenever he twisted, curled or scissored his fingers deep inside you. Sometimes you could get really overstimulated after the long fingering sessions Patrick gave you, but still something was missing, something that could finally turn you into a gushing, lightheaded mess.

And Bateman was more than determined to find that lost little piece of the puzzle.

One day, after the perfect dinner you had in Arcadia, he invited you to his place. Everything was pretty casual, on a high level, as Patrick always preferred, but the moment you stepped into his lavish apartment, you had the feeling that something was odd—the way he looked at you all evening with that crazy sparkle in his hazel eyes, his little sly smirks, his spontaneous touches here and there that were a little too possessive to display in public.

But the main course was waiting for you in his bedroom. 

With your eyes closed by his large palms, Patrick led you into his sanctuary, the soft, slightly chilly breeze fanning over your body as he closed the door behind the two of you, and when he finally regained your ability to see, the first thing you spotted was a lonely standing chair in the middle of the room. The same high-backed chair that had been in his living room the last time you were here.

Bateman's grin grew wider the more confused you looked, but he didn't say anything, leaving you completely bewildered and lost. The soft thud of his perfectly polished leather shoes was the only sound that filled the room.

Click, click, click.

Paralyzed, you couldn't move or think rationally as his hot breath wafted around your exposed neck—you felt like a puppet and Patrick was the one pulling the strings. Pressing a light kiss along your jawline, the man walked past you to the chair and placed a hand on its back, hiding one of his hands in his pants pockets. 

"Please, take a seat," he grinned with his classic charming smile that radiated nothing but sweetness—the kind that humans use to lure prey into a trap. "Don't stand there like you're not welcome."

It was a dangerous game you were playing, but you obeyed. However, it was not as if you had any other options. 

As soon as your shoulder blades touched the cool wooden back of the chair, you gasped and Patrick found it no less than hot and alluring as he stood behind you and gently stroked your head in an strangely soothing way. Panting, you could practically feel how cold your limbs were getting, even though the adrenaline rush was boiling your blood, but everything was working in such a fucked up way. 

Literally everything—including you.

"Do you remember telling me that you consider yourself more adventurous than not?" His sudden question took you by surprise. "Uh, I don't even know why I suddenly remembered that?"

Liar.

With a soft chuckle, he strolled over the chair to the other side of his bedroom, where a huge mirror gave a perfect view of the white walls, making everything around look like an operating room where you were a patient and he was your doctor.

Thrilled, you took a moment to clear your throat, clutching the firm edge of the chair with both hands. "Why are you bringing it up now?"

The man hummed, dragging a large technical device into the middle of the room to place it almost directly in front of you, so you could realize it was a fucking camera. "Answering a question with a question, really? Not a very polite thing to do." Patrick scoffed, adjusting the camera on its tripod before looking into it to focus on your humiliated form. "But that's okay. Tonight we'll see how adventurous you really are."

Huffing, you watched him pick up something that reminded you of duct tape—the man was absolutely cold-blooded in his movements, as if he did this every day, but maybe he really did? 

"Tell me," he murmured in your ear once he was behind your back again. "Are you my good girl?"

As he bent down to your neckline, Patrick seized the moment to draw a wet line all the way down your throat with his tongue, stopping only at your cheek. The aura this man radiated was so dark but so intoxicating that you didn't even make a sound when he possessively snaked his hand into your dress to grab your breast and tease your nipple, and of course he knew it would be so hard as your arousal could be smelled in the air.

"Yes," you looked back at him, your body shaking against the chair, he could feel it, savoring it like the most delicious meal, like the thrill of the kill. "I am."

And at that moment you knew it was over.

The sticky duct tape cuffed your hands behind the back of the chair, the hem of your dress pulled up with no underwear underneath, the red light on the camera blinking agonizingly. The fucking camera recorded it all—how Patrick abused your sopping cunt with his fingers, the cold metal of his Rolex brushing against your tender skin only adding to the wicked sensations rippling through every little fiber of you—and it was only the beginning.

"'C'mon, babydoll," Bateman drew near your face to hold it in one place and make sure you were looking directly at the camera. "If you could say that when we were alone, you could say it on camera."

Squirming in the seat, you were on the brink of bursting into fucking tears as he used his fingers with phenomenal accuracy, brushing them perfectly against your G-spot and the rhythm, goddamn it! Even the tempo he maintained was as if he was right inside your mind, knowing when to speed up and when to slow down a bit, to edge you a little, to delay the inevitable.

"Pat-Patrick!" You barely managed to say anything coherent, and Bateman seemed to enjoy doing everything he could to make it even more challenging. "Mhmh…fuck…please…t-that's too much!"

Patrick could only chuckle at your pitiful attempt to soften him up, the wide wolfish smile never leaving his face—it only grew wider the second he slapped your heavy breasts with his large palm, eliciting a loud whimper to escape your swollen lips.

"I didn't ask you to beg," the man replied, his gruff voice drawing out all the sounds around you, including the obscene squelching sound your pussy made every time he slid his fingers in and out. "I only asked you to tell the truth."

Increasing the pressure on the sensitive spot inside you, Bateman caught one of your taut nipples between his thumb and forefinger, twisting and pinching it until it was painful, the fingers of his other hand moving like clockwork at high speed, curled and buried deep. The friction against your soft inner walls was so intense that at one point you felt a strange, rising tension in your lower body—something familiar, but always frightening.

"Oh, God, Patrick!" You literally blurted out, squirming in the chair, your feet scattering mercilessly across the floor. "Fine...fine! I will...tell...I will fucking tell!" You tried to move your head, but Bateman grabbed your neck and forced you to stay still. What a fucking bastard. "I'm...I'm a dirty slut..."

Suddenly Patrick yanked your head back and sucked on your throbbing artery. "A dirty slut who...? Keep going, brat."

With that, he pressed his wet thumb against your red-hot clit, rubbing it with reckless abandon, you were ready to explode at any second, but Bateman still craved to complete his crude ritual of degrading you.

"...I'm a dirty slut who...likes her pussy to be ruined," you hiccupped at the last words. "A-ahhh...I love it...s-so much!"

Patrick let out a low groan and slid one of his fingers into your mouth to touch your wet tongue. "Ruined by who?" He asked, withdrawing his finger to suck it.

Balancing on the last semblance of a clear mind, you locked your dizzy eyes with his, feeling the wet pool forming under your ass on the chair. "By you."

Honestly, you could expect anything from this man, but not that when he finally allowed you to reach your peak, making you gush like a fucking waterfall, he would bring you closer to kiss you wildly on the lips, drinking in all your moans and never stopping to push his fingers inside you, even when the sleeve of his designer suit was soaked wet with your cum. 

He just didn't fucking care.

Bateman's mind was so far away already, imagining the nights he would watch this tape, which would surely be his favorite, and oh, he would definitely make you watch it with him, and who knew, maybe this would not be the only time he would film you in such an extravagant way.

After all, Patrick truly believed that his technique of bringing you to orgasm was nothing less than a work of art that deserved to be filmed.

[moniquesha]

And the Award for Biggest Slip-Up Goes To…

Pilot.

18+

At the 97th Oscars, Y/N arrives with rumored boyfriend Milo Manheim, stealing the spotlight. Moments later, James Buchanan Barnes steps onto the carpet—not alone, but with Natasha Romanoff by his side. Their eyes meet. Just for a second. But it’s enough.

Content Warning: Hollywood!Bucky x Actress!Y/N, mature themes, Bucky x Current Girlfriend!OFC, angst, jealousy, past feelings resurfacing, HUGE age gap.

author's note: excited & scared! i just really want this out of my head so that's why i'm posting (i can't talk to anyone about this)

The 97th Academy Awards have officially begun, and Hollywood’s elite are flooding the red carpet in a dazzling display of couture and charisma. The flashing lights of a thousand cameras illuminate the night as stars arrive one by one, each moment meticulously captured for history.

With Vanity Fair, Vogue, and The Hollywood Reporter vying for exclusive interviews, the pressure is on to secure the most coveted moments of the evening. Nominees, directors, and industry icons make their way down the carpet, their carefully chosen words and designer ensembles dissected in real-time by eager journalists and online fans alike.

Tonight isn’t just about glitz and glamour. It’s about legacy, about the performances that shaped the year, about who will take home the golden statue… and who will make headlines for reasons beyond their nomination.

The air is thick with excitement and a touch of tension. Notorious rivalries, unexpected reunions, and whispered secrets simmer beneath the surface. Because while the Oscars celebrate film, it’s the moments off-camera that Hollywood never forgets.

And tonight? There’s a storm brewing.

The flashing lights intensify as Y/N finally steps onto the red carpet, instantly commanding attention. Dressed in a stunning custom gown that hugs her frame in all the right places, she moves with an effortless grace that sends reporters scrambling for their microphones.

Everyone who is anyone wants a piece of her. Each desperate to get an exclusive comment from the night’s most anticipated nominee. Paparazzi yell out her name, hoping to catch even a second of her attention, while fans along the barricades scream in excitement.

But it isn’t just Y/N who’s making waves. Walking just a step behind her, looking just as polished in his tailored tux, is Milo Manheim, her co-star and rumored boyfriend. The way he subtly places a hand on her lower back as they navigate the chaos, the way she turns her head slightly toward him when he speaks—it’s enough to send social media into a meltdown.

A reporter from ET gets close enough to ask, "Y/N! How does it feel to be here tonight as a Best Actress nominee? And with Milo by your side?"

Y/N, ever the professional, flashes her signature smile before responding, "It’s surreal. An absolute dream. And I wouldn't be here without the people who believed in me."

She doesn’t directly address the rumors, but the way Milo grins down at her, like he knows a secret the rest of the world doesn’t, only fuels the speculation further.

As they continue down the carpet, another question rings out:

"Y/N, do you think tonight’s the night?"

A pause. A flicker of something unreadable in her gaze.

She smiles. "Guess we’ll have to wait and see."

And with that, she walks forward, disappearing into the biggest night of her career.

But just as the cameras settle from the frenzy of Y/N’s entrance, another wave of excitement ripples through the crowd. The moment everyone has been waiting for, James Buchanan Barnes has arrived.

Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, exuding effortless confidence, he moves through the red carpet like he owns it. But it’s not just him that has the press on edge. On his arm, stunning in a sleek, perfectly fitted gown, is none other than Natasha Romanoff.

Gasps.

A few stunned expressions. Some knew or at least, thought they knew but seeing them together, here, now? It’s enough to set social media on fire. Bucky, a nominee for Best Actor, flashes a charming smirk as photographers bark out his name, but he barely slows his stride. Natasha on the other hand, elegant and composed, stays close beside him, her presence magnetic.

Meanwhile, just a few feet away, Y/N and Milo are still giving their last few interviews. For the briefest moment, Y/N turns her head. Their eyes meet.

A beat.

Y/N’s jaw tenses so subtly, no one but those who know her best would notice.

Bucky, ever unreadable, holds her gaze for just a second too long before someone calls his name, forcing him to look away. Natasha leans into him slightly, whispering something that makes him chuckle under his breath.

Y/N blinks, turns back to her interview, and pretends the moment never happened.

But someone definitely caught it.

And soon, the internet will too.

author's note: i do genuinely hope i finish this 🙏 a little bit of push from someone or anyone will def make me happy !

i have no masterlists of any kind or what! u are witnessing a baby being born today. but here's your way back to it: Summary.

Part 1.

[reclusive-manwhore]

i lift my camera.

i see you through my lens.

you're two blocks down.

you have your hair in a ponytail.

you're wearing all black because that's what you like best.

because you love blending in with the night,

how it scares you so.

and you're all alone...

and now i'm taking pictures,

but that's not the only thing i need to do.

my fingers against the cold metal buttons remind me,

they want something more.

they want skin.

they were made to clench and prod and pry.

they were made for a girl...

but were they made for her?

i have to find out, don't i?

i have to follow her home.

and so that's what i'm doing.

that's what i have to do.

i lower my camera.

i put it in my pocket.

i lift my hood.

and you, so elegantly, walk down the sidewalk,

past the park,

across the street,

stopping by the corner store for an ice cold water,

leaving just as beautifully as you did entering it.

and i've been watching you the whole time.

just over your shoulder,

beyond the street lights,

hands stuffed in coat,

mind racing,

sweat pouring,

eyes glaring at you from such a short distance,

and yet you don't know.

and now you're at your apartment,

which i know you can't afford,

not with your wages...

not without daddy's money.

you came here seeking happiness,

in a city you never knew,

surrounded by unfamiliar faces,

hoping maybe one of them would accept you.

but i'm not exactly sure what this is,

or at least not yet.

is this acceptance?

is this... love?

i can't help but wonder these things,

watching you fidget with your keys,

slowly unlocking the door and going inside...

and i wait to hear a click.

and there is none.

no click.

you left it unlocked...

did you do that for me?

do you see me?

do you know i'm here and have been watching me,

someway, somehow,

this entire time?

are you more obsessed than me?

are you a better stalker than daddy?

i see you,

through the bedroom window,

your body an angelic silhouette in the shadows.

you take your top off.

you turn to face me through the glass.

and i see those eyes,

looking directly back at me,

and that smile on your face,

glowing in the flicker of your bedside lamp,

and you mouth to me:

"come inside"

and i know,

that you know,

that saying those kinds of things to a man like me,

is an invitation to take you,

have you,

own you,

hurt you.

you want this, don't you?

you knew i was there, and you couldn't help it.

those urges you kept deep inside,

they couldn't be contained any longer.

you found a man to match you.

and even though you don't know who he is yet,

you're about to find out.

and now i know the answer to the questions,

that i asked myself earlier:

yes.

this is acceptance.

this is you,

about to accept what it is you truly are,

my precious little victim girl.

[stinkybrowndogs]

I mean I get that’s it’s not the only contributing factor, but I’m curious exactly how much of the shelter dog over-population problem is actually due to poor dog ownership/management vs the housing crisis and economical stress. I’d be willing to bet by investing in social programs that give people the resources they need to care for their pets (cough cough affordable and free housing cough cough) that the amount of pets in shelters would dramatically drop. We can all sit here pointing fingers and screaming at each other until we are blue in the face, but if the owners basic needs are not being met, how can we hold them to a basic standard for their pets?

[ink-the-artist]

house tour :)

bonus art, lossy versions of the first 2 gifs

[starryaike]

The sillies

[completeoveranalysis]

[6]

BACK IN THE PRESENT Watanuki partially answers his own question by recognising that they aren’t all the same people. 

And he might have just been thinking the word “different” to end that sentence, but maybe some part of him recognises the way Sakura is smiling at him?

Maybe Body Memory?

Even just the thought of that makes me unreasonably emotional

SHUT UP THEY DID NOT

THEY DID NOT DO THAT TO ME

EXCUSE ME I’M CRYING IN THE CLUB

[untimelyambition]

OHOHOHOHOHO I FUCKING LOVE GENERATION LOSS

[gothamphantomgoat]

[godtier]

it amuses me how ppl will make PSA posts about how such-and-such platform uses "AI" and tells you to be Very Angry about it via context clues, but then the same ppl will happily reblog AI "art", even when it's very easy to tell and/or it takes two seconds to look at the damn comments on a post to find that it's AI generated, or that the very OP of the post tagged it as AI art, or answered an ask like "yeah I use a generator for the pics," or puts "I use midjourney to make the pics" in their profile on mobile, etc etc etc

I guess it's easier to screech about how an option in a program that you can turn off/disable within seconds and that won't actually do anything more than what your autocorrect or grammarly or siri or alexa or google assistant or photoshop filters have already been doing with/harvesting from your data for years now (spoilers: you've been using and training "AI" algorithms for longer than chatGPT has been mainstream! yes, it's basically the same concept!) than it is to do a few seconds of reading or double-checking to ensure you're not reblogging art theft and tagging it as "photography" 🙃

[yuujispinkhair]

Boyfie Sukuna in your bed in the morning

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Lots of fluff. 300 words. Minors don't interact. Divider by @/ioveartfilm

You wake up to the sound of loud purring, and when you turn around, you see your cat cuddling with your boyfriend Sukuna.

Sukuna's lying on his side, shirtless and still asleep. The blanket is pushed down to his hips, revealing his muscular arms and defined abs. And your cat has gotten comfy in those strong tattooed arms and is snuggling happily against Sukuna's naked chest.

You smile and quickly grab your phone from your nightstand to snap a picture. You love seeing Sukuna like this. Those secret moments in your bed where he is all unguarded and soft. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when he begins to stir and slowly opens his eyes, his gaze instantly finding you.

You smile fondly at him and whisper,

"Hey, baby."

Sukuna's voice sounds even lower than usual when he answers you, a bit raspy from sleep. Sexy and cute at the same time.

"Hmm, princess. What are you doing?"

Your smile grows and you snap another picture.

"I need a new lock screen, so smile for the camera, ok baby?"

Sukuna huffs softly, but his catlike eyes are warm when he looks directly into your camera. His large hand carefully cups your cat's small head, scratching behind her ears as her purring grows even louder.

A lazy, sleepy smile spreads over Sukuna's tattooed face, and your heart flutters. He looks so beautiful with that soft, sleepy smile, his beautiful maroon eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep and his pastel pink hair ruffled.

This is a version of Sukuna that only you get to see. The bad boy all soft and cute in your bed. Domesticated, just like the cat purring in his arms.

I NEED HIM! :(( Soft Sukuna in the morning makes me so weak!! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed your morning with Kuna, too ;)

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

[ralfmaximus]

A 28-year-old motorcyclist died in Washington State on Friday afternoon because a dipshit Tesla driver rear-ended him at speed. A Snohomish man, 56, was commuting in his 2022 Tesla Model S when he activated the car’s camera-based advanced driver assist system and according to his statements to police, began looking through his phone. With nobody paying attention to the car’s actions, the Tesla software ignored Jeffrey Nissen on his motorcycle and continued on at speed. The car rear-ended the two-wheeler, Nissen was flung from the bike, and his life ended pinned underneath the electric car, where he was still lodged when police arrived to the scene.

Tesla claims another life.

Reminder that even if you are personally aware of how dangerous Tesla vehicles are and vow to never ride in one, they can still kill you.

My own driving habits have changed around them. I always give Teslas extra space, avoid following them directly, and expect them to stop or swerve suddenly without notice.

Cannot count the times I've pulled up next to a Tesla at freeway speed, noticed the driver playing on their phone. Tap the horn. They look up with surprise.

Please, don't be that guy.

[dmitriene]

simon riley filming a sex tape with you, little something to jerk off to while being away from you, the pretty pictures you send to him in flimsy underwear is not enough now, he needs more, something long enough that he could watch for many loads to go to waste, something where he could hear your pretty sounds, knowing it's him who punched them out of you.

it's the way you look splayed on your tummy, kneading at the crumpled sheets below, almost tearing them off each time simon's thighs slap against the back of yours, letting you feel the burn of skin and the way his pelvic collides with your slick soaked pussy, hips snapping off from your perched ass and back again, fat of your ass globes stinging at the contact.

it's raw, in the way simon presses his calloused palm against the small of your back, flattening his fingers there with a small barely noticeable brush of fingertips, making your spine arch for him with more pitchy, gasped out mewls, your vision blackening when he grinds his fat cock so deep your pussy clenches around, feeling every bulged vein and the way he throbs, dragging his cock with a wet squelch.

simon makes you cum on his cock in time with him, making you hang on a thin thread of orgasming as he slams in your pulsing pussy with buckling thrusts, urging you to look in the camera of the phone that stands on the bedside table, luckily not rattling the way your bed is, as his hand squeezes at your nape, turning your head aside, pressing you into drool soaked pillow.

gaze blurry, your eyes flutter as you look obediently, trembling beneath simon and his violent movements, light headed and breathless as everything blurs before you, you don't even sure you're looking directly into the camera, as you pull up a lopsided, silly smile on your lips, drool stretching from your upper teeth, before your head falls back with rolling eyes.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[sleep-0-deprived]

can i ask for the yan!roommate's reaction to the reader finding the camera in the bathroom and purposefully jacking off in front of it?

just found out about this blog and i am already hyped we need more subby yans in the world

Yandere roommate imagines (sub Yandere oc) ~!

A/N so the Yandere is just a random Oc you can imagine it as whoever I just needed a name for the fic! And you’re totally right there aren’t nearly enough sub Yandere as I’d like <33

Imagine you just got home from the gyms and all you wanna do is get into your shower you don’t have many other thoughts in your brain, you would have used the shower at the game but you have a “problem”~ between your legs and you knew you had to get home.

Imagine, you’re stripping your clothes cutting the hot water on as the mirror begins to fog up, your cock pressing to your stomach with precum oozing from the slit as you step in the shower running your fingers through your hair letting out a quiet grunt. You notice something from the corner of your eye when you’re looking up at the shower head, confused you reach for it picking it up you realize it’s a camera.

Imagine you already know who put the camera there I mean how could you not? There was only one man you knew creepy enough to wanna watch you shower and that was you’re roommate, and you know you felt a little generous you thought since you were already hard why not give him a show.

Imagine you sit the camera on a bath shelf and start speaking “I know you’re watching me Lucas” you grin as you bend down a little making sure your face was in full view as you use one hand to run down giving your pec a firm squeeze before gripping at your shaft giving one long stroke. On the other end of the camera Lucas sat in his room in the shared apartment nearly going feral when he sees your hand on your cock.

Imagine his face all red laying originally across his bed he soon gets up hurriedly trapping his laptop making sure the door was locked as he shakily grips the device for dear life feeling himself already aroused by the sight of you touching yourself, wanting nothing more than for your cock to be stuffed inside him as he rubs himself up against his matress letting out a few whines of desperation.

Imagine your hand holding your cock pointed straight at the camera giving him the perfect shot of your veins pulsing beneath your fingers while you bite at your bottom lip “didn’t know u had a total creep of a roommate, Lucas?~” you coo hazily standing in the shower the water running down your body down past your thighs with a few heaves meanwhile Lucas on the other hand wasn’t nearly as calm.

Imagine his hands fumbling with his zipper sitting the laptop on his bed as he pulls his boxers down placing the laptop on his pillows in front of his face as he drools, two fingers shoved between his lips with him laying on his stomach removing his fingers with them all coated in spit as he presses them to his rim pressing one finger in moving it in sync with your hand imagining it was your cock inside him as adrenaline fills his head making his body numb to the pleasure only becoming more infatuated with you each second as he murmurs out “y-es~” over and over.

Imagine when you cum you make sure your cock head is pointed directly at the camera lens, wanting him to see your red, angry looking tip when you climax. Your body tensing up intentionally not letting him see the face you make when you orgasm, only attempting to further tease your roommate with what he can’t seem to fully grasp hold of, which is you. “Hope you enjoyed my little show Lucas”

Imagine when Lucas sees that he’s in a whole other world of need, if he was feral before it was like he was a rabbit in the middle of heat because he pulled his hands away from himself with a little gasp while getting up not even bothering to turn his computer off, pouncing on you as soon as you make it to your bedroom with his brain all fuzzy and fast from your menacing taunts pulling your towel off.

Imagine your night ending with your roommate on top of you his thighs straddling you with his hands gripping your shoulders tightly mewling his lips all parted wide and his eyes half lidded and rolled back glossed over while he erratically lifts himself over and over again riding you harshly even when he feels like his rim is on fire from being stretched so long, you give his ass cheek a slap punching the ref handprint grumbling in his ear “this was what you wanted right?” As you hold his hip tightly grounding yourself deeper inside him pressing to his prostate roughly “then take it Lucas”