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universalitgirlsblog2 · 7 months ago

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🧁🍥STOP BEING LAZY AND PATHETIC🧁🍥

This post is my notes of Thewizardliz video on how to stop being lazy and pathetic. This account will be my digital notebook where I will write notes from Liz and Tam Kaur's videos ( LOL ) .

🧁WHO ARE LAZY PEOPLE ?

Lazy people are the forgotten ones. People that don't want to do anything with their lives, they will always end up on a sideline.

🍥REALIZE THAT NO ONE CARES IF YOU ARE LAZY

Everybody has problems. No one cares about your victim mindset and about how life was hard or unfair for you. Life is unfair to everyone . Life goes on. Everyone is busy with their own lives. We got to get moving !

🧁YOU AREN'T LAZY , YOU ARE PRIVILEGED

People that need to survive have no option to be lazy . People that are walking up the stairs and they can barely breathe , they have no option anymore than to lose that weight. People that are so vulnerable and their bodies cannot handle of them being so underweight have no option but to lose weight. People that have to go to work otherwise there is no food on the table. They have no option to be lazy. If you have the option to be lazy, you are privileged.

🍥THE HALO EFFECT

The halo effect is when we see a beautiful person , we will think that they are less likely to do something bad because we associate someone beautiful with being a good person. Its the same way with successful person. If we see a successful person in any field , we will assume that they are successful in all their aspects of life. Suppose if a person have a successful business , we will automatically think that they are successful in their relationships and everywhere. If you are lazy , you can't benefit from the halo effect . It takes effort to be beautiful and to maintain beauty. We only see these successes , we don't see the progress. Most people are privileged and have it all but most people come from zero and create it for themselves. It takes discipline.

🧁FOCUS ON YOUR LIFE FORCE : HEALTH , DIET AND RELATIONSHIPS

When you feel that you are lazy , focus on your life force . What is your life force ? Health and diet. Focus on moving your body and eat foods that don't spike your insulin and eat food that nourish your body. When you feel lazy or don't feel good , don't isolate yourself. Connect with your family and friends. Also focus on your relationship with yourself. What are you engaging your mind in ? Be connected to your own energy. Journal. Sometimes God or your guides are speaking to you but because your mind is constantly racing , you can't listen to them.

🍥CREATE ROUTINES AND STICK TO THEM

Humans need routines. You need a structurised routine. Sometimes we can't stick to routines but we need a base so we have something to go back to. I would like to add something here , I am reading a book by Brianna Wiest , it's called 101 essays that will change the way you think. There was line in the book . " As children, routine gives us a feeling of safety. As adults , it gives us a feeling of purpose ."

🧁CLEAN SPACE IS SELF RESPECT

Clean space is a clean mind. Not even cleaning after yourself is a sign of huge disrespect to yourself. Stop reading this and clean your room right now !!!!!

🍥THERE IS REASON WHY YOU MADE THAT COMMITMENT TO YOURSELF

Remember the reason . Remind yourself, " Why did I even start ? " " Why did I even want this goal ?" . If you don't want the goal anymore then do something else.

🧁THINK ABOUT WHAT STORY ARE YOU TELLING YOURSELF

If you are telling yourself that you are a lazy person , you will act like one. Your mom didn't carry you for 9 months just for you to say that you are lazy. Get a hold of yourself. Don't complain about how you don't have your dream life if you are lazy.

🍥REALISE YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR REALITY ANY SECOND

You can change your realities really fast if you start acting like the person you want to become.

🧁HEAL THE PAST AND MOVE ON

Go to therapy and heal from the past. You can change your story around . If you are a victim of trauma or abuse , don't just go around and tell people because they lose respect for you .

🍥YOUR BODY RESPONDS TO YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

If you are constantly living in the past , reliving it , your body will make you ill. If you want a different outcome and different future, you have to do things differently. People around you don't need to change, you have the power to control that. You have the responsibility to heal yourself. What others did to you , it is on them . They will get their karma.

🧁ARE YOU LAZY OR DID YOU STOP PROGRESSING ?

People become happy when they start progressing. We constantly need that drive or something to strive for. Create a new project . Find a new hobby. Learn a new skill. Do something that you haven't tried before or pick something you used to love.

🍥TOO MUCH INFORMATION MAKES US LAZY

There is so much information on the internet to the point we don't know what to do. There are so many videos on the best diet , skincare or workout , we get consumed in other people's opinions and lives. We start filling their lives with our energy. ( Just a suggestion; you can search workout or skincare recommendations but at the end you should choose a diet or skincare or workout which suits you , not others )

🧁ARE YOU TOO CONSUMED IN OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES ?

If you wonder to yourself : Why do I not have any energy left for myself ? Because you are too consumed in other people's lives so you aren't living your own.

🍥FEELINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT

Feelings are just feelings. If we all just react to go out of emotions we would all unalive each other.

🧁ALLOW YOUR FEELINGS TO PURGE AND YOUR BODY TO HEAL.

Feelings purge by you feeling them. Release your emotions , don't suppress them . If you suppress those Feelings, they will get stored in your body and might show up later as physical illness. Sleeping is also healing. Let your body heal. Once that's done , get up and do something . Don't dwell there for too long.

🍥WHAT DO YOU FEEL VS WHAT DO YOU WANT ?

If you feel like eating unhealthy food but then you want your dream body. It doesn't correlate. You need to have discipline.

🧁COURAGE IS BEING VULNERABLE

Go outside and try to meet new people. Do something which you wouldn't normally do .

🍥LEARN TO ASK FOR HELP.

Learn to accept help. Sometimes God send people to help you. Ask help from God and you will receive help in miraculous ways.

🧁BE PRODUCTIVE ON YOUR OWN TERMS.

What does productivity look like for you ? What are your goals? Create that productivity mindset and visions. What works for others may not work for you.

🍥ARE THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU DRAINING YOUR ENERGY ?

If you have toxic people around you , you are constantly around them , you are going to feel bad. Distance yourself. No one can make you feel upset, you have the control over how you feel.

🧁CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE ON SITUATIONS.

Most people are projecting their insecurities. Instead of feeling angry, have compassion for them. Similiarily , if you are going through a break up instead of thinking that they were the last person on earth. Think that your souls were meant to cross and then meant to separate. You learnt your lesson and they learn their lesson.Change your perspective on things .

🍥FOCUS ON THE THINGS YOU CAN DO

Think about three things you can do . What is your passion ? What makes you happy ? Who makes you happy ? Be grateful for these things. Realise that you can do alot and remind yourself of what you can actually do.

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blackbirdsblackberries · 3 months ago

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I HATE THE NEW HERO

PT 1 - What teacher assigns a group project for a poster?!

Classes were always boring for you, don't get you wrong - you love the subjects, you just hate how it's being taught.

To sum it up, here is your lessons for today, Friday.

Literature, Methods Math, Biology, Ancient History, Engineering and finally Chemistry.

It's a lot and frankly you're regretting choosing half of those subjects. Even more so because of a certain billionaire playboy's ward. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

You're pretty sure he's a massive fanboy of Aranea, the new spider-themed hero of Gotham who you detest with your very being.

The costume is ugly, they're too optimistic - it's Gotham, who on Earth is happy in Gotham? Most of all however, they're a two-faced bitch. You should know, after all you are them.

It's not that you hate yourself and your nightlife, just that you need to look unconnected to them at all costs. There can't be any correlation between you and your persona. You use a voice modulator while on patrol and missions, you wear a wig while in your costume and any defining features are covered by either the costume or makeup.

So, whenever Aranea is brought up you take the chance to make fun of it. The comments aren't anything horrible, mean sure.

"Ew, they're more of a roach than a spider.."

"They're actually ugly enough to be the next Joker"

"I hope they humiliate themself and everyone sees how gross they really are."

But not horrible.

Despite this Timothy seems to have thought you were the devil himself in the form of a teenager. Glares were thrown at you, false reports were made to the principal's office, public shaming on Chitter and more.

You won't lie and say it gets to you sometimes but at the same time he's being a manchild. You can't expect everyone to like who you like.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a paper being slammed onto the desk. Your head snaps up and you glare at the person.

Timothy may as well be the devil with the way he's staring at you now, a sneer paints his pale features. His nose held high enough that you swore he was about to snort on you.

You grit your teeth and look down at the paper he slammed on your desk. You're actually going to scream and cry right now.

Scratch that, you're actually going to jump out of the window and hope to perish.

You hate Chemistry. You hate this school. You hate Gotham. You hate Timothy Jackson Drake.

You pray he'll think you're incompetent and not bother with actually working together for this group project.

A group project on Titration! Who even does a group project outside of school for that?

You look around, hoping there will be others in the group but because your luck is so thin it might snap everyone else already were in groups of 3s. Meaning Timothy and you would just be a duo.

Instead of doing what you wished you instead sighed and grabbed your pencil, probing at Timothy's hand until it stopped holding the paper against the desk.

"A poster on bases and acids in titration? Why does this need to be a two-person job?!" You huff out. Timothy's features turn more hate filled, kinda petty to hate someone for different tastes Timothy...

"Because lazy people like you won't do the work otherwise!"

"I'm not lazy! Fine, fuck you! I'll do it myself!"

"No way! I need the marks - plus you'll do it wrong!"

you take a deep breath, trying desperately to not snap your pencil in half.

"... Fine. We'll do it at my place then once school lets out. No way am I going to your place where I'm sure you'll set your family on me." You respond calmly, still glaring up at him.

After a moment Timothy nods.

Your shoulders slump in relief.

"I'll meet you at the front gate then."

"Fine. But if you're late I'm doing the project on my own." With that Timothy walks away. You feel a migraine coming on - seriously, what is wrong with him? There wasn't even a proper time set!

Some people think that Damian kid is the rudest - those people clearly haven't been on the bad, petty side of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

#I hate the new hero!#dc #dc comics #dc universe #yandere #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #platonic yandere #batman

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lelengerine · 30 days ago

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pairing. cafe owner!chenle x regular customer!reader

synopsis. chenle might just have a thing for his cafe's regular customer, based on a req!

genre. cafe au, love at first sight mixed with a little puppy love, chenle’s like a goldie retriever here :(( i swear, mentions of food, reader uses she/her pronouns for this one, ft. jisung and jaemin, pls lmk if anything was missed!

wc. 1.0k words

notes. i love this one so much (i say that almost every time i have a new thing written) but it's chenle who are we kidding ofc i have favoritism… slight. likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

chenle wasn’t the type to hover.

he trusted his staff—jisung handled the customers, jaemin worked his magic in the kitchen. that left him to observe from the sidelines, content to manage from a comfortable distance. it wasn’t laziness, more like knowing where he fit in the daily rhythm of the café.

but the moment you walked in, everything shifted.

it was nothing special at first. the soft chime of the door, the way the afternoon light caught the edge of your face as you stepped inside, looking around with a quiet curiosity. chenle had been by the counter, flipping absentmindedly through the register logs. he wasn’t paying attention to much until he saw you. it was like the air in the room shifted, pulling his focus to you as if he’d been waiting for something but hadn’t realized it until that moment.

you took a few steps in, glancing at the menu board above the counter. jisung, ever efficient, moved to take your order, but chenle stepped forward without thinking, his voice coming out before he even realized it.

“i’ll take care of it,” he muttered, sliding in front of the lanky boy and ignoring the surprised look thrown in his direction.

jaemin, who was watching from the back with flour dusted on his apron, gave chenle a knowing look, but said nothing.

chenle paid neither of them any attention, turning his gaze to you whose eyes were eagerly scanning the menu above the counter. “what can i get for you?”

you smiled, polite but distant, ordering a cup of mocha latte—voice reaching him in soft but clear syllables. chenle couldn’t help but hold onto each word as you spoke, wanting the moment to stretch just a little longer.

when you took your seat by the window, chenle made your drink himself, pushing aside jisung’s attempts to do his job. it wasn’t even about making the best coffee; it was about making your coffee. a strange feeling stirred in his chest as he watched the milk swirl into the espresso, the heart-shaped foam settling on top with more care than he’d ever thought to put into a simple drink.

it became a routine after that. you came in regularly, and each time, chenle found himself moving before anyone else could. jisung and jaemin didn’t even try to get involved anymore, knowing how stubborn their boss could be. they’d just exchange quiet glances and sometimes a snort of laughter when chenle would rush to be the first to greet you.

he knew your order by heart—mocha latte, no whipped cream, always served in the same spot by the window. he’d bring it to you, trying not to hover too long, hoping each time that maybe this would be the day you’d stay a little longer, or say something more than the usual thank you.

but you never did.

you’d sip your coffee, eyes on your book, and the world outside would blur as you disappeared into your reading. he’d watch, just for a moment, trying to convince himself that the way you quietly smiled to yourself meant something, that maybe you noticed how much care he put into each cup, but weeks passed, and nothing changed.

you’d finish your drink, leave quietly, and chenle would be left with the echo of your absence. he started to wonder if it had all been in his head—if maybe he’d read too much into your polite smiles and the way you kept coming back. the doubt crept in slowly, like the steady ticking of a clock, until it was all he could think about every time you left without saying more.

today felt the same. you walked in, and he already had your mocha ready before you reached the counter, your usual spot by the window waiting for you. you gave him that same smile, soft and distant, and he tried to hide the way his heart leapt when you looked just a little surprised that he had your drink ready before you asked.

“you remembered,” you said, tone light, almost teasing.

chenle shrugged, trying to seem casual even as his pulse quickened. “it’s not hard. you come in here a lot.”

you laughed—soft, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make his chest tighten. a small thank you made its way past your lips, and then, just like every other time, you disappeared into your little corner with a book in hand, sipping your drink as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

chenle watched you from behind the counter, torn between the quiet hope that had kept him going for weeks and the creeping disappointment that maybe, just maybe, this was all it would ever be. the unspoken silence between you stretched on, and by the time you finished your drink, the weight of his thoughts had settled into something heavier.

you left, like always, slipping out the door with only a glance back. chenle sighed, staring at the empty cup you’d left behind. another day, another missed chance. he walked over to clear the table, mind already drifting to the usual routine, until something caught his eye.

a small piece of paper, folded neatly beneath the cup.

he picked it up, his breath catching as he unfolded it, scanning the words quickly, then again, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it.

i’d like it better if you sat down and ate with me instead of staring from behind the counter next time. my treat, pinky promise.

your phone number was scribbled beneath the note, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

chenle froze for a second, blinking at the piece of paper in disbelief, then suddenly grinned, pumping his fist in the air with a quiet yet triumphant “yes!”

from behind the counter, jisung and jaemin watched him, snickering quietly, exchanging knowing looks.

“has he finally gone insane?” jisung said in a deadpan.

jaemin just shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “just let the boy live a little. it’s not always that we catch him like this.”

“that boy is still your boss.”

“eh, he’s still younger than me.”

“your point being…?”

and despite being more than aware of jisung and jaemin’s bickering from behind the counter, chenle didn’t care. all he could think about was the next time you walked in, and how this time, he wouldn’t just be serving you.

this time, he’d be sitting with you.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #chenle #chenle fluff #chenle angst #chenle x reader #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles

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moviecritc · 6 months ago

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Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕

obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux

warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)

a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33

Remember that requests are open 💕💕

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others

yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙

view all comments

user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip

charlesleclerc 💜😍

user2 so dry

user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles

user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101

sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜

user5 IM SO IN LOVE

user5 that i might stop breathing

user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness

user7 GOALS.

user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out

user9 it's giving taylor and joe

user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations

When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.

Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.

Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.

She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.

Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.

Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.

Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.

So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.

When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.

yousername just posted!

liked by yournamehq, alexandrasaintmleux and 583,981 others

yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎

the comments have been restricted

alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙

sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩

gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.

chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.

laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.

She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.

"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.

"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.

She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.

"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.

Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."

"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."

Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.

"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.

"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.

"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.

"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.

Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.

"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.

They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.

Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.

As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.

"No," she denied vehemently.

Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.

Five months later

alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!

[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]

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markrosewater · 3 months ago

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Hi mark. It’s me, the guy that was complaining about orphans of the wheat. I wanted to start by apologizing for using the word lazy. I wasn’t trying to say that the people who make this game don’t put a ton of thought and effort and care into it, but I totally get how my wording made it sound like I was trying to say that. I’m genuinely sorry I came off like I was belittling the immense work you all do.

I also want to clarify that I wasn’t trying to say “I don’t like this thing therefore it is bad”. Millions of people play magic, all with very different tastes, and I’m just one weirdo. Everybody is going to have aspects of the game they like and aspects they dislike, my opinion is not objectively correct.

What I was originally trying to get at was that it feels as though a lot of designs that are “based on” something feel like they are getting more overt. Bonny Pall is the example my brain always goes back to because the name is almost the exact same thing as what it’s flavored after, Paul Bunyan. Orphans of the wheat is just a more recent example of this and what sparked me sending my initial message.

A few years ago, I saw a video on YouTube of a speech you made, I think it was your 30 years 30 lessons one. In it you talk about how akroan horse was originally Akroan Lion, and players didn’t get it, but when you changed it to akroan horse, suddenly people loved it and it felt so flavorful. I get that it’s important to make sure that people get the reference when you’re making one. And I get that it’s a delicate balance. Too subtle, and people don’t get it; but too overt, and bozos like me send giant messages complaining.

My qualm with Children of the wheat is that it is an example of a pattern I feel like I’m seeing where you are erring on the side of “gotta make sure they get it”, to the point that sometimes it feels like the reference is being beaten over our head. But I do recognize how that’s just my perspective and other people have different opinions on where the line is for “too obvious”. For example, I think Altanak and say its name are awesome. I like how the art is someone looking in a mirror and if you say its name three times then you summon the big bad monster. But I totally get how someone else might see that and say “well all they did was make Bloody Mary a bug”. And I also totally get how there might be another person who didn’t even get the reference and would’ve needed a card called “mutilated Miranda” to realize it.

This whole *thing* is just my way of saying that designs that are references to something feel like they are more and more often mutilated Miranda or Bonny Pall or orphans of the wheat, and that fewer and fewer of them are getting even one step removed from what they are referencing.

Thanks for taking the time to write back. It means a lot to me. How close we get to references is something we’re constantly reevaluating. We’ve definitely got the note that this year indexes too high on the obvious references.

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ckret2 · 2 months ago

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Ok but why DO the teens of Gravity Falls start worshipping Bill after everything he did to them? Isn't there a better counterculture figure they can use that didn't traumatize them for life?

You'd think. Pre-TBOB I sure wouldn't have made them worship him—but if canon says they worship him to be edgy, who am I to argue.

So since it IS canon, I justify it two ways:

One: who says they were traumatized? I'm not saying "Weirdmageddon wasn't traumatic"; I'm saying "maybe they didn't feel traumatized by it." Not everyone comes away from should-be-traumatic situations with trauma, ESPECIALLY if they have a large support group that understands what they went through... like, say, literally everyone else in town.

And a WHOLE LOT of Gravity Falls—maybe even most of the town—had VERY little exposure to Bill or Weirdmageddon. Based on Wendy's account, she and her friends didn't know anything was wrong until the eye-bats swooped in to petrify them. Anyone captured "probably" wasn't conscious (based on how Lazy Susan seems disoriented and unaware of her surroundings, I assume they were mostly unconscious, partially dreaming). All the teens (along with the other townspeople) were freed from the throne while Bill and his minions were outside, escaped (except for Wendy & Robbie) before Bill got back, and then everything went back to normal and nothing was broken and nobody was hurt.

For Wendy, it was the most stressful, dangerous, terrifying week of her life.

For all of Wendy's friends (and probably most other teens in town), it was just a pretty bizarre 15 minutes.

Since the eye-bats were picking off stray townspeople days into Weirdmageddon, I'm sure not all of the teenagers in town were captured so quickly and painlessly... but like, the teens that got the highest doses of trauma from the incident probably aren't the specific teens worshiping Bill to be edgy.

Two: it's a way of reclaiming power over the situation. Do you know one way to stop fearing the monster you imagine under your bed? By imagining really hard that the monster you can feel so, so close in the dark is actually friendly and there to protect you.

The triangle guy's dead and not coming back right? Then there's no consequences if we clown around in his name. You want to be a big fancy god? Okay, now you're the God of Making My Teacher Give Me An A+ On The Final. You're the God of Please Don't Let Me Get Fired From My Part Time Job For Showing Up Late. You're the God of Putting Me In The Same Classes As My Friends This School Year. I'll sacrifice a chicken nugget to you and you'll do me a favor.

If you're a chaos god then I'm calling on you when we spray graffiti, secretly throw a house party, sneak into the movie theater, sell weed in the restroom. If you're a chaos god then keep away the cops and parents when we're breaking the rules. (It's lucky coincidence that Bill would probably love to be the god of illegal parties and drug dealing.)

If you wanna be a god, then you're hired, buddy—and on this planet, that means if we bow to your image and chant your name and sacrificially burn a one dollar Bill over a candle for you, then you have to do what we ask, and you can't scare us anymore. And if worshiping you DOES scare the authority figures we're yearning to buck against, that's just a bonus.

Pantheons all over the world worship gods of volcanoes, sea storms, war, and death. When humans see a force too terrible to defeat or escape, we give it a face, a name, and a temple, and start feeding it with offerings and prayers in hopes we can domesticate it the same way we domesticated wolves with meat and back scratches.

#anonymous #ask #bill cipher #the book of bill #gravity falls #meta

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nanamis-bigtie · 2 months ago

Text

pina colada

↬ gojo x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no excessive body descriptions), piv sex, aphrodisiacs, unrealistic sex, creampie (like...a lot of it), belly bulge, reader is implied to be much smaller than gojo, dumbification if you squint, slight degradation (reader is called a slut), a little of breeding talk (in a very feral meaning of it), gojo is a little fucked up (was he ever normal tho), top & dom gojo summary: this was supposed to be a chill leave but satoru wouldn't be himself, if he didn't make things…complicated. and horny. word count: 1.6k a/n: i won against anxiety! this text is...not exactly what i aimed for when preparing the prompt but i'm pretty satisfied with the result. feral gojo my beloved tag list: @thesacredfanfics

You've imagined your first retirement trip quite...different.

Taking it easy was the motto you both intended to uphold. You deserved it after the absolute hell of the last two years and an additional few months of convincing Satoru that he really needed to step down and leave everything to others. His body and soul and your relationship needed a breather, nothing but sweet laziness in a luxury hotel on Bali, away from Japan, away from sorcery, away from Gojo clan relentlessly rushing you two to settle down and marry, as if the old schemes still had any meaning in the new world.

No, his phone got turned off right on Tokyo Narita and hidden in your pocket, you left your laptops behind and locked away, your number was entrusted only to a handful of people and instructed to be used in case of an extreme emergency. You agreed for it together, this peculiar isolation from the world the only way you could properly rest through the month to come. For the whole of October, you belonged only to each other, to tropical beaches, local cuisine, parties in expensive clubs, and your spacious bedroom with a sinfully comfortable California king sized bed, just perfect to finally sate your libido.

But Satoru wouldn't be himself if he hadn't stepped into an affair right on the first day anyway, even before you managed to unpack all the bags. He made a local curse user run for their life, more bored than anything, and returned with a small bottle of...something he confiscated.

You still taste its flavor at the back of your throat, sweet and tart at the same time, like pina colada made by an unskilled bartender with a little too much cheap rum. It was thick and rather hard to swallow, its consistency nothing like any other drink you had tried so far, and it pricked your tongue with that characteristic tinge of cursed energy. This aphrodisiac was surely infused with some kind of cursed object, maybe a product of someone's cursed technique, and as under any other circumstance you wouldn't be eager to try it just like that, when Satoru already swallowed his half, you just followed suit.

The party mood was definitely to blame, music was still buzzing in your blood as you were grinding against his lap and chasing his lips. The bottle was in his pocket, and you were the one who pulled it out, its shape climbing into your thigh uncomfortably. Satoru had already forgotten about its existence, but he immediately recognized his trophy and uncorked it before you could say anything.

And since then, the matters escalated...quickly.

Thighs flush to his hips, you ride him without cease. You've lost feeling in your calves a long time ago and your knees scream for mercy—yet, you don't stop, fearing that the flame burning deep in your cunt would swallow you whole as soon as you take a breather. Up and down, you swallow him over and over again, his cum pouring out of your abused hole and pooling at the base of his cock. You've lost count of how many times he's finished in you already, yet of your own orgasms, but you know you've reached every physical limit of your body. Aphrodisiac running in your veins has you pushing them relentlessly, somehow forcing exhaustion and pain out of your comprehension. There's only lust and warmth of his length, filling you to the brim and, somehow, still pressing deeper and deeper, seeking new crevices to be filled with his seed.

Satoru underneath is a mess too, sweaty, shaking and whining. His skin is flushed, be it fever of the moment or the sunset soaking you both in pink light, exposing scars scattered all over his torso, arms, and face. Moisture slips his blindfold down; beadily blue gaze runs you through as it skims along your body bouncing on top of his. He's lost the famous Six Eyes, a sacrifice made by a binding vow to let him survive, but at that very moment you feel as if it's never been gone. You recognize this intensity, your body and mind respond to it instinctively—the absolute submission and trust only Satoru has ever been able to elicit from you.

"Kiss me," he demands, voice breaking in need, and fills you up yet again as soon as your lips brush his. His hot seed flows inside you, you can feel its pressure against your cervix and another ounce of older loads slipping out of your hole. It's such a waste but you can't help it, you can hold inside only as much, and he's still determined to somehow overflow you from the entrance to your womb.

You've never experienced sex with this intensity. Aphrodisiac sharpens your senses thoroughly, you're feeling him with parts of your body you've never thought that they're capable of ever feeling. Every twitch of his length thumps through your body, every new spasm of incoming high has your cunt clench tight around him, trying to desperately swallow everything he's offering, maybe this time it can be savored whole, maybe this time you can expand your limits and let him breed you straight into your core.

Lustful poison wants you to continue beyond breaking but your body starts giving up, your legs too jelly to handle your weight any more. Your rhythm starts faltering, you lean forwards in a desperate attempt to help yourself with your arms, your hands only slipping off his sweaty chest.

"I can't," you sob, yourself not sure if in exhaustion or immense need for more.

"Yes, you can." Heels digging in the mattress, Satoru lifts his hips and bounces you himself. "C'mon, pretty thing, just one more time? I know you want it badly ."

His fingers sink in your skin, bruise your hips yet again as he's rutting into you without a break. He has you creaming around his cock again, gushing your juices and his cum alike. Eyes fixed on your fluttering lips, he tries to shake the sweat-soaked blindfold of his face. You want to help, only to lose fragile balance and to almost slip off him and his greedy embrace.

"Hey," he groans, his voice dropping so low it doesn't sound like his anymore. "Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going?"

Satoru rocks himself forwards, having you on your back just for a moment enough to slip out of you and turn you around, face shoved into pillows and your hips yanked up. He gathers the mess leaking out of you with the tip of his cock, then finds your entrance with one, rough thrust.

The sound you make doesn't sound human anymore. He's reached the depth he has never before, maybe even indeed somehow pushed himself past your cervix. Without the help of the aphrodisiac, you could have been in immense pain—but now, you're only clawing sheets and trying to meet his moves halfway, craving every inch of his thick cock drilling into you. You want more , you want to be bred until even your womb is filled to the brim and bulging your tum.

One hand pressed tight to your abdomen, undeniably trying to feel himself moving in you, Satoru keeps holding you down by neck. With a corner of your eye, you can spot his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, his face on the brink of losing his humanity, too. There's nothing left of tenderness he's always had reserved when looking at you; there's only lust and blind chase for release and sadistic satisfaction wincing his expression whenever your mewls grow more hoarse and desperate.

His thrusts relentlessly push you towards the edge of bed; you're not able to hold yourself against them and his hold is not enough to keep you in place. Satoru's hand sneaks from the nape of your neck to your throat and pulls you towards him, until you're kneeling, your back flush to his torso. The mirror is filled with you both now, the sight of the size difference between you two alone almost having you cream on his cock again. He's watching too, his gaze fixed once on your face, once on your union and your belly really bulging in the shape of his cock, his moves calming down just enough to focus on dragging new views and reactions out of you.

"You look like a slut." He laughs, the sound suiting more a demon than your caring and always a little pathetic partner, and slides his long fingers into your mouth. You're drooling around them, choking, your own fingers scratching his wrist, yourself not sure if to pull him out—or quite contrary, make him torture you even more.

You're both losing your sanity with each passing second, the poison in your veins only growing stronger the more you succumb to the lust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you cum again, the spasm of your cunt almost painful, and your legs give in, your body now limp in his hold. Satoru clicks his tongue, lets you melt just enough to hook arms under your knees and yank you up. His hands are at the back of your neck again, eventually locking you in a full nelson hold, absolutely helpless and left on his mercy.

When you regain your sight, you're staring straight at your body wide open, your cunt stretched by his twitching cock and gushing his cum.

"C'mon, pretty thing, don't pass out on me here." He sinks teeth in your neck, hard, as if trying to tear a piece of flesh out of you. "It's not even dark yet."

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months ago

Text

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]

Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.

Chapter 32: No Harm Done.

You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.

It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.

You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.

Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.

Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.

It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.

Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.

Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.

simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?

That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.

He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.

The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.

you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.

Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...

Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.

Both of them felt just as real, however.

You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.

You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.

Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?

When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?

You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.

"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.

"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.

"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.

"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.

You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.

Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.

"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.

"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.

The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...

And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.

How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...

You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.

"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.

"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.

"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"

Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.

"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."

"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.

You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."

"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.

Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.

"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.

"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.

"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.

"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"

You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.

"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.

Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.

"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"

Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...

You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,

@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,

@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,

@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,

@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,

@l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago ,

@sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki ,

@comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear ,

@mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat ,

@stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving ,

@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader

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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

Note

Ok so… 🌧️☁️🔥 - Lewis Hamilton.

Could u base it off the trend, dark curls and water colour eyes.

Thanks Queen

WATER COLOUR EYES | LH44

an: this is totally not based off of nico rosberg, no why would it be? also this was written in an hour and is NOT proof read.

summary: lewis' and his teammate have been treading a thin line between love and hate, so when one of them gets into an accident. surely it changes everything.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: car crash

The air in the garage was thick with the familiar scent of oil and rubber, the rhythmic thrum of engines in the distance like a heartbeat. You were stood at the far end, methodically reviewing your race notes, eyes tracing over each figure with sharp precision. Focused. Composed. Untouchable.

But you could feel him there—he was always there, lingering just on the edge of your awareness, never saying anything but always watching. The weight of it made your jaw clench, your muscles tighten in a way that annoyed you more than you’d cared to admit.

Lewis was leaning against the wall across from you, arms folded, his posture lazy and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. You could hear him breathing. You didn’t have to look up to know he was wearing that same infuriatingly relaxed expression, the one that somehow made you feel like he was waiting for you to slip up.

Minutes passed, neither of you speaking, the silence between you thick with something unspoken, but heavy. The team buzzed around you two, but your world was much quieter—tense, a slow-burning friction that had been there since the day you had both signed on.

Finally, you chose to break the silence, not out of need to acknowledge him, but to break the weight pressing down on your chest. "Do you ever plan on doing something useful?"

Lewis didn’t answer right away. Instead, you heard the soft shift of his weight as he stood straighter, footsteps crossing the short distance between you, slow and measured. You didn’t look up. Not yet.

"Are you always this charming before a race?" His voice was calm, casual, the subtle bite behind his words only evident to someone who knew how to listen for it.

You exhaled slowly, setting your notes down on the table in front of you. Only then did you meet his gaze, your cerulean eyes locking onto his, steady and unwavering. His eyes were dark, tension brewing within them, and the way they met yours now—unapologetically, searching for something—only made your guard go up further.

"I’m focused. Maybe you should try it sometime," you replied, your tone even, though every word was a small act of defiance.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t a friendly one. It was the kind of smile that said he was amused by you, that he liked getting under your skin.

"I am focused," he said quietly, his voice dropping an octave. "Just not on what you think."

︶︶�� ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Lewis didn’t like that they were racing today, there was far too much rain. Every practice session since they had gotten to Zandvoort felt wrong, every time he got into the cockpit of the car, he wanted to get back out.

The race was chaos—engines roaring, tires screaming as they hurtled through corner after corner at breakneck speed through the rain. Every move had to be precise, every decision calculated, and he was good at it. No distractions, no second-guessing.Even though he didn’t want to race today, Lewis lived for this.

But today, besides the race, something else was off. He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head. Even as he fought for position, his mind wandered—always back to you. To the way your eyes flashed when she spoke to him, the way you never backed down, never let him in. You were supposed to be teammates. Rivals. So why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

He shook it off, pushing harder, focusing on the track ahead. But then he saw it.

Your car, just ahead in the pack, spun out. It happened so fast—a sudden twitch, then a violent swerve. His breath caught in his throat as your car skidded sideways, slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch of metal.

Time slowed. Everything else—the race, the other drivers, the screaming radio in his ear—faded away. All he could see was your car, mangled and still, smoke rising from the wreckage.

"Bono, is she okay?" he breathed, panic clawing at his chest.

He was supposed to keep driving, follow protocol, and wait for the safety car. But he couldn’t. Lewis’ hands moved on their own, wrenching the wheel to the side, veering off the racing line. The pit radio crackled, Bono’s voice screaming at him to stay focused, to stay in the race, but he didn’t care. He slammed the brakes, pulled the car to a halt on the side of the track, ripping off his steering wheel in one swift motion.

Before anyone could stop him, he was out. Feet pounding against the asphalt, he sprinted toward your car, every second stretching painfully, his heart pounding in his ears. His mind was racing, filled with worst-case scenarios he couldn’t shut out. You had to be okay. You had to be.

As he reached the wreckage, marshals were already swarming the scene, but he shoved past them, his pulse roaring in his veins. The front of your car was a crumpled mess, the cockpit barely visible under the bent metal and debris. He could see your helmet, your still form inside, and the sight made something twist violently in his chest.

"What the fuck happened?!" His voice was raw, frantic, his hands reaching for the cockpit, trying to pry it open. "Someone help me for fucks sake!"

One of the marshals grabbed him, pulling him back, but he fought against it, his whole body trembling with the need to see you, to know you were okay.

"She’s unconscious—" one of the medics started, but he couldn’t hear the rest. His world had narrowed down to you and the sound of his own ragged breathing. He’d never felt fear like this before, not on the track, not anywhere. It gnawed at him, made his hands shake as he stood there, helpless.

His mind screamed at him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to you.

When the medical team finally got you out, he saw your chest rise and fall—shallow, but steady. Relief hit him like a wave, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to hear your voice, needed to see you open those damn eyes and tell him off like you always did. He needed you to be okay.

"She’s breathing," one of the medics reassured him as they loaded you onto a stretcher, and he nodded, but it felt like a hollow victory. Lewis wasn’t supposed to care this much. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

But as they carried you away, all he could think was that he’d break every rule, throw away the whole damn race, just to hear your voice again.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The quiet hum of the air conditioning did little to settle the nerves that still buzzed under your skin. You sat on the edge of the small cot in your driver’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Your body ached—nothing broken, they’d told you, but the crash had rattled you more than you had wanted to admit. Your helmet sat discarded on the floor, and the sound of the accident still echoed in your head, the screech of tires, the crunch of metal.

There was a knock at the door, sharp and insistent. You knew who it was before you even heard his voice.

"You in there?"

You closed your eyes for a brief second, already bracing yourself for the confrontation you weren't ready to have. He hadn’t left you alone since the crash—hovering around the medical tent, pacing outside your room. You’d heard him through the walls, arguing with the team, demanding updates. He was relentless. But you didn’t want his concern. You didn’t need it.

The door creaked open, and Lewis stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Typical. He always pushed his way into your space, never asking, never giving you a chance to breathe.

"You shouldn’t be here," you said, your voice low, your eyes still fixed on the floor. You didn’t have the strength to look at him, not yet. Not when your emotions were too close to the surface.

"I was worried," he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it, and that only made you angrier. "I needed to see for myself that you were okay."

You laughed, a bitter sound, shaking your head. Finally, you forced yourself to look up at him. His usually confident posture was gone; he looked tense, his shoulders tight, his dark eyes clouded with something you didn’t want to name. Guilt? Regret? You didn’t care.

"You were worried," you repeated, your tone mocking, though the anger bubbling inside you was anything but playful. "Since when do you care about me, Hamilton? You’ve made my life hell from the second I signed with this team."

Lewis flinched at her words, but didn’t move, didn’t back down. "I—" He stopped, searching for something to say, something that wouldn’t make it worse. But you didn’t want to hear it.

"You don’t get to be scared for me." You stood up, your body protesting with every movement, but you ignored the pain. Your emotions were a live wire, snapping and sparking in the small room. "Not after everything you’ve done. The comments, the looks, the way you treat me like I’m just some obstacle in your way."

His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening, but you weren't finished. "You’ve been trying to tear me down since the day I got here. You’ve questioned my skills, doubted my place on this team, made me feel like I don’t belong every single chance you get." You took a step closer, your voice rising, cracking with the intensity of everything you’d kept bottled up. "So don’t stand there now and pretend you care. Don’t act like I’m something worth worrying about."

He didn’t move. He just stared at you, his face a mask of tension, like he was holding something back—something he wasn’t sure how to say. His eyes flickered, just for a second, and you saw it: the same fear you’d felt when your car slammed into that barrier. It confused you. It infuriated you.

"You think I wanted this?" His voice, rougher now, cut through the thick silence. "You think I planned to be this way with you? I don’t—" He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. "I don’t know how to do this. How to deal with you. Because you—"

"Because what?" you snapped, cutting him off. "Because I’m a threat? Because you can’t handle the fact that I’m as good as you? Better, even?"

"Because you scare the hell out of me!" he shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. The room fell silent, his confession hanging in the air between you, raw and jagged.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the admission hitting you harder than you wanted to admit. But you didn’t let it show, couldn’t let him see how his words affected you.

"You scare me," he repeated, his voice quieter now, like he was admitting something to himself as much as to you. "The way you drive, the way you push yourself—you’re fearless, and it’s terrifying. And today—" His voice cracked, and he looked away for a second, composing himself. "Today, when I saw you crash, I thought—I thought I’d lost you."

Your breath caught in your throat, but you swallowed the emotion rising there, forcing yourself to stay strong. To stay angry.

"You don’t get to care about me," you said again, quieter this time, but with the same fire. "Not when you’ve spent months trying to break me."

Lewis opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. For a moment, you just stood there, the distance between you feeling both impossible to cross and too close. The tension, the unspoken things that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, it all hovered between you, crackling like electricity.

Finally, he took a step back, his gaze falling to the floor. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough, but sincere.

You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to push him further away, to tell him that his apology wasn’t enough. But another part of you —a part you weren’t ready to confront—was scared by how much you’d wanted to hear him say it.

So instead, you stayed silent, watching him leave, your heart still racing, your mind reeling from everything that had just been said—and everything that hadn’t.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the stillness of the room. Your body felt heavier now, the adrenaline from the confrontation seeping away, leaving only the dull ache of exhaustion and the weight of his words lingering in your mind.

You scare me.

You ran a hand through your hair, still trying to make sense of it all. He was the one who had made your life hell, the one who pushed every button, who treated you like you didn’t belong. And now, he was saying he was scared? That he cared?

You paced the room, the silence gnawing at you, your mind spinning in circles. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. You were rivals—always had been. He was the enemy on your own team, the one who made you want to scream every time he walked into the room. But today, when he stood there, looking at you like he was terrified of losing you, it had felt… different.

There was a part of you that had wanted to stay angry, to keep that fire burning between you. It was easier that way. Safer. But another part—the one you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge until now—was starting to unravel, slowly, painfully, as if everything you thought you knew about him was coming undone.

You sighed, sinking back onto the cot. Your body ached, but it wasn’t just the crash. It was everything else—the confusion, the pull you felt toward him, the tension that never seemed to leave you two, the way he looked at you like you were both his greatest threat and something he couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

You don’t get to care about me.

You had meant it when you said it. But now, alone with your thoughts, you wondered if you had been pushing him away because you didn’t want to admit the truth to yourself. That maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want him to stay away. Not anymore.

Before you could second-guess it, you stood up, heart pounding in your chest. You weren't sure what you were going to say, weren’t even sure why you were doing this, but your feet carried you out of your room and down the hall. His room was just a few doors down, the quiet hum of the team in the background doing nothing to settle the storm raging inside you.

Your knuckles hovered above the door, hesitating for just a moment before you knocked, your heart in her throat.

It opened almost immediately. He stood there, still in his race suit, his room a mess and his eyes shadowed with the same exhaustion you felt. He looked surprised to see you, but there was something else there too—something raw, vulnerable, that made your chest tighten.

Neither of you spoke at first. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid. Finally, you broke the tension, your voice quieter than you intended.

"I shouldn’t have said what I did."

Lewis didn’t respond right away, just watched you with those sharp eyes that always made you feel like he was seeing straight through your defences.

"I didn’t mean it," you continued, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "I mean… you didn’t deserve that. You cared, and I shouldn’t have thrown it back in your face."

He looked down, exhaling softly. "I’ve given you plenty of reasons to hate me," he said quietly. "I get why you reacted the way you did."

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were about to say something else, but then he looked up again, and the intensity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

"It’s foreign to me," he said, his voice low, his words deliberate. "Liking someone like you. Someone I’m not supposed to like."

Your breath caught in your throat, the air between you suddenly feeling too thick, too charged. The heat from the room, from him, seemed to close in around you, making it hard to think straight.

"You drive me insane," he continued, stepping closer, his voice rougher now. "You challenge me in ways no one else does. And I hate it. But I also…" He stopped, his eyes locking onto yours, his next words barely more than a whisper. "I can’t stop thinking about you."

You swallowed, your heart hammering against your ribs. The tension that had always been between you shifted, growing heavier, hotter, more intense. You could feel the pull, the unspoken thing that had been simmering beneath the surface for months.

Your throat was dry, your body betraying you. "You’re not supposed to care about me," you whispered, but there was no anger left in your voice. Only confusion, and something you weren't ready to admit yet.

He took another step closer, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough to hear the slight hitch in his breath.

"I know," he said, his voice husky, eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "But I do."

Your pulse thundered in your ears as his words lingered in the air between you, charged and crackling like static. Every second felt stretched, like time was holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next. The tension between you had always been palpable, always simmering just beneath the surface, but now, it was unbearable—thick, electric, like the split second before a lightning strike.

You knew you should say something, break the moment before it went too far. You should push him away, remind him of all the reasons this couldn’t happen, why they couldn’t cross this line. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself frozen in place, the walls you’d built up around him crumbling. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and intense, and you felt something inside you shift, like a wire snapping loose.

Your breath hitched as you leaned in, just the smallest movement, enough to close some of the distance between you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the space between you shrinking until it felt like the air itself was suffocating, pressing you together.

And then, he moved.

His hand came up slowly, hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, his touch feather-soft, like he was testing the moment, unsure if you’d pull away. Your skin tingled where his hand touched, sending a shiver down your spine, and for a brief second, neither of you moved. His thumb gently grazed your jawline, and the touch was so tender, so unexpected from him, that it made your chest tighten.

When you didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, something shifted in him. The tension snapped like a taut string, unravelling all at once. He closed the gap between you in a heartbeat, and before you could think, before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was urgent, messy, like he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t control it anymore. His lips pressed against yours with a hunger that matched the heat between you, a raw, desperate energy that made your knees weaken. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t careful. It was a release—months of pent-up frustration, confusion, anger, and something else that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge until now.

Your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to his chest, gripping the fabric of his suit as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. His body was warm, solid beneath your touch, and you could feel his heart racing just as wildly as yours. You pulled him closer, needing more of him, needing this as much as he did.

The kiss deepened, and his hand slid from your cheek to tangle in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your mouths moved together in a rhythm that was both frantic and intoxicating, as if you were both trying to make up for all the time you’d spent fighting this. Every brush of his lips, every shift of his hands made your pulse spike, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. You could taste the desperation in his kiss, feel the tension still lingering in the way his body pressed against yours.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, tangled in each other, caught in the whirlwind of your own undoing. But when you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Your breaths came heavy and uneven, the world spinning around you as you tried to catch up to what had just happened.

Your mind was a haze of emotions—confusion, relief, frustration—and yet there was something undeniable settling deep inside you, something you couldn’t push away anymore.

You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, and your heart was still racing, but now, instead of fear or anger, there was something softer, something that scared you just as much.

"I’m still angry with you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. But there was no heat behind your words now, just the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, like you couldn’t quite hold it back.

He let out a soft, breathless laugh, the sound vibrating between you as he brushed a thumb along your jawline, his touch lingering, as if he didn’t want to let go. His eyes softened as they met yours, the usual sharpness replaced by something you weren't used to seeing in him—vulnerability.

"I wouldn’t expect anything less," he murmured, his voice low, rough with the aftermath of what had just passed between you. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, sending a fresh wave of warmth through you.

His forehead still rested against yours, and the air between you was thick with the unspoken things that hung in the balance. You could feel his breath mingling with yours, could still taste the remnants of his kiss on your lips. The tension hadn’t disappeared—it had merely shifted, becoming something new, something more dangerous. The line between you was gone now, blurred beyond recognition, and you didn’t know how to navigate it.

His other hand came to rest on your hip, the touch firm, possessive, pulling you just a fraction closer. Your body responded before your mind could catch up, and you didn’t stop it this time. You didn’t want to.

His lips hovered just above yours, teasing, tempting, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy, his eyes searching yours for permission—for something more. And in that moment, you realised that you wanted it, too. Wanted him.

the end.

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rickyriddle · 28 days ago

Text

Agatha All Along Theory: The Road isn't real

(Disclaimer: I'll be using Teen's real name at some point so you better be up to date before reading)

Here's a theory I need to post before the last episodes air in case I'm right.

The actual Witches Road never existed. It was just a con Agatha created to trick witches and steal their magic. The reason why people think you can't survive the road is because everyone who tried to get there died (killed by Agatha). Alice even said the Road was just a con, because it was. Agatha's first reaction to Teen mentioning the Road is that it's not real, because she knows it's not. She even told him the Road would kill him- because the Road was always a con to kill witches and take their powers.

Agatha never intended to get her current coven there, she always planned for the song to fail and to provoke them so they'd attack her and she could get her magic back. She didn't want Teen to be there to spare him that fate.

That's why Agatha looked genuinely surprised when the Road does appear, and she doesn't seem to actually be familiar with it. She probably spread the rumour that she is the only one who survived in order to lure witches who are interested. The reason why she said she takes power from the undeserving is because she considered that witches who want to walk the road are too lazy to learn magic on their own, it's a way for her to justify killing them. She even told Teen that he wanted to take a "shortcut" with a bit of contempt in her voice when he mentioned looking for the Road.

Now as for this Witches Road... it's prob a hex Billy created without realizing it. The door only appeared after he started to be afraid of the Salem Seven, and it had a hexagon shape. Sounds familiar? Just like Wanda's hex. And I bet Agatha always had a doubt it was him, since she knew damn well the Road wasn't real since she made it up. She looked genuinely confused when it first appeared and definitely do not know anything about it and kept bullshitting her way to the others and acting as an expert.

Billy said "this is exactly how I pictured it" and Agatha replied "it suits you" because she knew he made it. It actually suited him. A lot of the stuff in the hex are based on him, lots of reference to his room as Billy Kaplan. And that's what Agatha meant by "you and your mother have the same tell". They both created an alternate reality unconsciously due to strong emotions. That's how she knew he was Wanda's son, the major clue. His magic works similarly to hers.

That would also explain Agatha's reaction to Sharon's death. "I didn't know you had it in you" was directed at Billy. Agatha wasn't expecting people to actually die since he created the road. So at that moment, she realized that child created a deadly hex, and didn't think he had it in him (not that he killed Sharon on purpose, but the road he made did).

That might explain Rio's reaction, usually the con of the road doesn't go that far, so she's feeling impatient because these witches should have been dead a while ago when Agatha lured them. That could also explain why Rio herself didn't seem familiar with the Road, since it never existed before.

That could also explain why Agatha argued with Jen regarding the lyrics of the ballad. If the road is her con, then she wrote the original lyric and might be unaware that some terms changed over time (like two becoming through).

So, the current road was created by Billy subconsciously, but the concept of the road was created by Agatha as long time ago as a con and ironically, it became real because of Billy. So, the title is true. It really was... Agatha all Along.

#agatha all along #wandavision #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #agatha harkness #billy maximoff #billy kaplan #william kaplan #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #theory #might delete if I'm awfully wrong lol #teen (agatha all along)#rio vidal

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tickfleato · 1 year ago

Text

how to make cool blobby turing patterns in photoshop

i'll preface with i learned the basic loop from skimming a tutorial on youtube, but as someone who prefers written tutorials i'm sure many would appreciate one! also, the second part of this is some of the visual effects i figured out on my own using blending modes and stuff.

i'm using photoshop CS4 on a mac so some buttons and stuff might be in different places on windows and newer photoshop versions but all the actions are the same. my canvas is 1000x1000 pixels.

UPDATES (i'm hoping these'll show up whenever you open the readmore?)

it's possible to do something similar in krita using this plugin, made by the love @arcaedex

it's also possible to do this in photopea, a free browser alternative to photoshop! the results are pretty much identical.

FIRST off you wanna get or make a black and white image of some kind. it has to be one layer. can be noise, a photo, a bunch of lines, whatever. here's mine, just some quick airbrush lines:

now find the actions tab. idk what it looks like in newer versions of photoshop but you probably won't need to dig!

hit the little page thingy to make a new pattern. once you hit 'record', it'll record everything you do. the little square 'stop' icon will end it.

now you want to do a high pass filter. you can mess around with the radius to change the size of your squiggles, but the tutorial had it set to 6. experiment!

now add the 'threshold' adjustment layer. i use the adjustments tab but i think there's also a dropdown menu somewhere. keep it at the default, 128. merge it down. (control or command + E or you can right click it like some kind of weirdo)

and finally, the gaussian blur! the radius of this affects the shape and size of your squiggles as well. i like to keep it around 4.5 but you can mess around with that too.

after that, hit 'stop' on the action you're recording, and then repeat it a bunch of times using the 'play' button, until you have something you like, like this:

WOW!! that was fun!! and only a little tedious thanks to the power of macros. anyway, here's some fun layer blending stuff i like to do. it's with a different pattern cause i made this bit first.

anyway, using a black and white gradient (or a grey base that you do black and white airbrush on), make a layer with the vivid light. this will make the blobs look thicker or thinner.

then, for cool colors, do a gradient map adjustment layer over that:

and finally, my best friend, the overlay layer. just using a gradient here bc i'm lazy, but feel free to experiment with brushes, colors, and blending modes!

NOW GO. MAKE COOL SHIT WITH THE POWER OF MATH. AND SEND IT TO ME

also these are not hard and fast rules PLEASE mess around with them to see what kind of weird shit you can make. here's a gif. as you can see i added some random airblush blobs in the middle of it, for fun.

#photoshop #turing pattern #tutorial #photoshop tutorial #abstract art #reaction diffusion pattern

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shius · 11 months ago

Note

Can u write top suguru x househusband (wifey) male reader

as you wish!

| house husband | v.2

modern au | bottom!househusband!reader x top!teacher!suguru

a reversed roles fic based on my previous house husband writing

summary- suguru has had a frustratingly difficult day day. coming home to his precious house husband is just what he needed to relieve his stress.

cw- amab!reader, dubcon, petname ‘angel’, consensual groping, praise, body worship if you squint, gentle sex, missionary, marking, unprotected sex, soft suguru

not proofread, a bit rushed

wc: 1.2k

you’ve been at home all day, cleaning for the umpteenth time that day. you always kept the house pretty spotless and having no day job left you pretty unoccupied unless you made plans with friends, or went shopping. your real highlight of the say, however, was your husband coming home from work. he worked as a full-time teacher, but the school was one of the biggest in the area, so he made enough to be the breadwinner. today was not his day. he unlocked the door and stepped inside like he had been wishing to do since school started. he took off his lanyard, his shoes, and let out a big sigh, and flopping onto the couch before you could greet him. you heard him from the bedroom and made your way over to him. you say next to his head on the couch and started brushing your fingers through his hair. “how was your day, suguru?” you ask him. he looked a lot more exhausted than usual, so you were pretty attentive about it. he let out a long deep breath through his nose before responding. “those students of mine were really testing my patience today. it gets so frustrating.” he said, clearly angry but his soft spoken voice somehow tuned that feeling out. he scooted his body up for his head to rest on your lap, taking in your gentle aura. he sat up after a while and pulled you to straddle him. “missed you, angel…” he mumbled into your chest as he held you. you found it so sweet when he used that nickname you. you continued rubbing his back as you allowed large his hands so graze over your clothing. he basked in your scent. his hands roaming along your figure on top of him. he tilted his head up to look at you where he met your eyes already looking at him. you leaned your neck down so you could kiss him, tender as ever. he loved touching your body, any part of it he could get his hands on he admired. you sat on your knees to adjust yourself better, “accidentally” grinding against his tight slacks. what can you say, you missed him all day. his breath hitched and his eyes shot up at you. “what are you doing, y/n?” he questioned, a little flustered. “ ‘m sorry suguru, i missed you a lot today…” you answered him, your cheeks heating up at the confession. you hugged him closer, feeling his hands roaming around your ass. you jumped at the feeling, watching as a sly grin formed in his face.

one of his hand sneaked around to both your fronts, reaching palm you through your underwear you had been to lazy to change out of. your breathing got heavy. you could feel against your inner thigh his cock slowly began to strain in his pants. he grunted quietly every time your body shifted on top of his. he pulled your cock out of your underwear, sending a shiver down your spine. he rubbed his finger over the top, collecting any seeping pre. you moved yourself off of him so you could take your bottoms off completely. he does the same, undoing his slacks and slipping them off of his waist. he wasted no time indulging in you, climbing over your body on the couch, trapping you underneath him, your legs on either side of his. he caught your lips for a messy french kiss. he held your face with one hand and your waist with the other. you could feel the heat radiating off his throbbing cock against yours. “put it in, please…” you begged. “without any preparation? are you that desperate?” he said, teasingly. “i don’t care if it hurts… i just need you…” you whines, wrapping your arms around his neck. he felt his heart flutter, honestly. knowing you were craving him so intensely. he did as you wished however, jerking himself a few times so he could have some for, of lubricant if not his saliva. you were so tight. he took longer to push himself inside of you because of that. he hissed, the squeeze of your hole made it so much more heated for him. you dug your nails in his shoulders, the feeling of him stretching you out stung, but it’s what you begged for. you felt your eyes glass over, letting out a string of whines. you heard his grunts as he bottomed out, he would take as long as he needed no matter how frustrated he was, he could never risk hurting you. he hooked your legs around his arms, letting them rest on the nook of his elbows. he planted his hand on the couch next the sides where your upper back met the cushion. making your hips raise up further. “are you ready, angel?” he asked you, looking up at you, seeing the lewd expression painted on your face. “mhm” you answer. you could feel every ridge of his length inside of you. he started to thrust, not taking long until he rammed against the most sensitive spot inside of you. the curve of his cock always seeming to find its way. your lips parted, moans and quiet cries of his name spilling out. he lowered his head to place kisses along the side of your neck, nipping the soft skin, marking you on your tender flesh.

your whined his name whenever his pace changed, going slow at some moments, speeding himself up the next. his long started to fall down into his face from the quick motions. he looked so beautiful with his hair in his way like this. you heard how quiet, but noticeable, moans were released from him. every now and then hearing a, “god..” “you’re so tight, angel…” nothing could get past you. your sensitive cock already leaking cum from the tip everytime your body shook from his thrusts. his hips started to grind against you, your body jolted, the head of his cock continuously hitting your spot. you gripped onto him tighter, moaning his name. your walls convulsed around his shaft, making him groan, sinking his head down. he grinded into you deeper as you came against both your and his abdomen. your body shook underneath him, following right behind you was his release. you felt himself slowly try to pull out but failing, as he was already shooting his cum inside of you. he watch his release seep from you. he sat back on his knees, catching both of your breaths. you moved the hair stuck to your forehead out of the way, struggling to sit up. “ah, im sorry, angel. let me help you to get cleaned up.” he said, comforting you. you nodded, taking his hand as he picked you up bridal style, smiling at you, taking the both of you to the bathroom, where he started a warm bath for the both of you to share. needless to say, he was a renewed man at school the next day.

————————————————————————

thank you for your request! ~ shius

| written by shius, please do not steal or repost my work without permission! |

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x male reader #suguru x male reader #suguru geto smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto smut #suguru smut #getou suguru x reader

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brattyfork · 1 year ago

Text

drank

summary: matt n his brothers go to a party. he has fun but he missed you.

warnings: drunk sex, sub!matt+mommy kink lol

based on this request!

way back when, when matt and i first started having sex and figuring out our safe word, something interesting came up.

“what if i’m drunk?” i looked at him confused.

“what do you mean?”

“well sometimes when i’m drunk i get horny, i wanna have sex but i don’t want you to feel like you’re taking advantage of me”

“oh ok, uhh i mean we can still use the safe word in that situation right? ill just make sure you remember it before we start?”

“okay sounds good” he smiled at me.

the boys had some influencer party to go to, normally i’d tag along but i really didn’t wanna go anywhere, opting for one of matt’s tshirts instead of a crop top (is this line cringe?).

i knew matt wouldn’t do anything stupid at a party. furthermore, i knew nick and chris, mainly nick, wouldn’t let him do anything really stupid. i trusted him, i knew he’d feel the same about me going out, as long as he knew i’d be safe.

i decided to just sit on the couch, watch tv. i was watching criminal minds when i heard a car door outside. i could hear someone fumbling with the doorknob for a few seconds before before the lock turned and the door opened. nick walked in first, holding the door open for chris and a stumbling matt. he kicked off his shoes, slamming his hand on the wall, almost falling.

“how was the party?” i asked no one in particular.

“well they had fun” nick said, gesturing to the two younger triplets.

“it was cool, matt had too much to drink. lightweight.” chris rolled his eyes.

“be nice” i scolded. matt made his way to the couch, throwing himself over the back, sitting next to me then laying his head in my lap.

“you have fun baby?” i spoke softly.

“yes, missed you tho” i ran my hands through his hair.

“i missed you too my love” i dipped my head down to give him a sweet kiss. it quickly turned rough and needy. i pulled away, conscious of his brothers still downstairs. he let out a whine trying to chase my lips.

“you wanna go to bed baby?” i looked into his eyes, hoping he knew what i meant. his eyes were dark, not black with lust like usual, more doe-y, filled with need.

he nodded using all his strength to sit up, lifting his head off my lap. i stood up, looking back when i noticed he hadn’t moved. “cmon baby, let’s go” i tried to encourage him.

“mmmm, carry me”

“matt you know i can’t carry you, you’re too big”

“don’t be mean!”

“you know what i mean baby, you’re too strong and muscular”

“mhm”

“cmon get up, let’s go” i reached out my hand. he groaned, grabbing it and pulling with so much force i almost fell on him. i brought my other hand over, now using both my arms and all my strength to pull this man up. he finally stood up, he walked perfectly fine. i rolled my eyes, realizing he way just being lazy. he held my hand tight as i walked us up the stairs to our room. i pulled him into the room, he lets go of my hand, falling to the bed.

“how ya feeling baby?” i asked sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

“i feel good, i missed you”

“i missed you too sweet boy”

“i really, really missed you” looking at me with his doe eyes, silently begging me to understand.

i leaned down to him pressing a sweet but deep kiss, pulling away shortly after.

“what’d you miss baby?” i whispered against his lips, pressing one more kiss to them before moving down his neck.

“your hands, your mouth, you” he whimpered the last word as i bit down into his neck, sucking a deep purple hickey into the soft skin.

“yeah? you want mommy to make you feel good? with my hands?” i ran my hands down his pants, resting my hands right next to his bulge. “with my mouth?” i placed wet kisses to his neck, grazing against the mark i left before.

“fuck yes please god yes”

“do you remember your safe word?”

“yes yes i know my safe word, just touch me already” i grabbed his face harshly.

“don’t be a brat, or ill leave you here to take care of yourself” i spat. he gave me puppy eyes.

“‘m sorry mommy”

“you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“yes yes, wanna be your good boy please”

i ran my hands up his shirt, moving them along his tummy before bringing my fingers to the hem and pulling it up. he got the hint and leaned forward, allowing me to take it off. i brought my hands down to his zipper. i began unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans when i felt him tug on the hem of my shirt. i pulled away, taking my hands off his lap to lift my shirt over my head.

when i looked back at him, his pants were down. i straddled him briefly, moving over him to the other side of the bed. i leaned down, kissing down his now visible v-line, slipping my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. his dick shot up, the tip red and needy, dripping with precum.

“aw baby. so worked up and i’ve barely touched you”

“please…”

“please what baby? what do you want?”

“need you to touch me please” i brought my hand up to his mouth.

“spit”

he did as i asked, or demanded i guess, and i brought my hand down to his cock, stroking up and down him a few times. he threw his head back, letting small moans and whines out, egging me on more.

i stroked him for awhile, focusing on the wonderful faces he made and his desperate noises. he started to squirm, trying to buck up into my hand.

“please mommy more i need more” i smirked at him, the sound of him begging was music to my ears.

i decided to be nice, letting spit fall from my mouth onto his cock before leaning down, sucking on the tip. as soon as i got used to his size in my mouth, i deep throat him, letting his tip hit the back of my throat.

this earned a loud “FUCK” from him, causing me to pull off, making him whine.

“you gotta be quiet baby, don’t want your brothers hearing how needy you are, do you?” i taunted, his cheeks turning a brighter pink. “gonna be quiet? be a good boy for me?”

“yes fuck i promise i’ll be good”

i brought my head down to his lap, taking all of him in my mouth at once. he bit his lip, the whimpers still sounding through. i sped up, going up all the way to the tip and quickly back down to the base. matt had stopped biting his lip, opening his mouth so he could let out large breaths. as i kept sucking him, his breathing turned to what could only be described as panting and fuck it was so hot.

“i-i’m close, f-fuck” he let out between pants. i thought for a second, stilling my movements before pulling off. he let out such a needy groan, i could’ve cum right then and there.

“why?” he looked to me, his eyes brimming with tears.

i gave him a kiss, feeling bad that he was upset.

“i’m sorry baby, mommy wants you to fill her up, don’t you wanna make mommy feel good?”

“yes fuck wanna be inside you mommy please god” he moved his hands up to my bra, still covering my chest.

“can you take this off? wanna see your pretty body” i smiled at him, moving my hands behind my back to unclasp it, pulling it down my shoulders making my tits bounce. i swear i could see some drool leave his open mouth. i quickly pulled my pants and underwear down, not wanting to make him wait any longer and needing him inside me.

i straddled his lap, rubbing my wet clit over his cock, still slippery from my mouth.

“ohmygod” he slurred out, making me giggle a bit, loving how much of an effect i had on him. i lifted myself up, taking him in my hand and lining him up with my entrance.

i sank down slowly on him, feeling every vein against my walls. his eyes rolled back into his head, a deep whine coming from his throat, harmonizing with my moans.

“fuck matty, so fucking big, making mommy feel so good” i bounced on him a few times before i realized how tired i was and began grinding instead.

“h-holy shit mommy, feels s’good”

“been such a good boy for me tonight baby, you wanna cum inside me?”

“fuck, yes please fuck oh my god”

i leaned down connecting our chests, moving my head into the crook of his neck. i sucked another mark into him, nibbling the rest of his neck before breathing on his ear.

“cum whenever you’re ready baby, gonna make mommy cum too” i continued grinding on him, his tip brushing the bottom of my cervix each time. i moved faster, chasing my own high. i felt him twitch inside me, sending me over the edge. i bit down on his neck, trying not to be too loud, matt cried out. between me biting him and clenching around him, his hips sputtered, unloading his cum as far into me as he could.

i let out a squeaky groan as he filled me up. there was no better feeling, his warm load sent me over the edge everytime. i came again, crying out as i clenched around his sensitive cock and began to twitch on him.

matt wrapped his arms around my lower back, trying to still my movements. we both came down from our highs, i lifted my head out of his neck, moving to look at him. his hair was messy, i could see the marks id left, his lips red from biting them so hard, his eyes glossed over.

i kissed him, passionately, there was no sexual motive behind it, i simply wanted to convey how much i appreciate him. he was incredible, in every single way, not just in bed, he was the perfect boyfriend. the perfect man.

“i love you more than anything”

“i love you too baby, so so much” he replied, brushing my hair out of my face.

i gave him another peck before moving to get off him, realizing his cum and cock we’re still inside me. he held my thighs, not letting me get up and i looked at him confused.

“will you uh- can we… sleep like this?”

“of course baby, you like how it feels? leaving your cum inside me? how tight i am around you?” i teased him.

“fuck don’t talk like that, i don’t have the energy for another round” he chuckled.

i gave him another kiss before laying down on top of him, moving carefully so he didn’t come out.

“goodnight matty” i whispered into his ear.

“goodnight my love”

a/n: hi yall, sorry i haven’t posted in a while. busy w school and on top of that we found out we gotta move. but i hope u guys enjoyed, i wrote most of this while high so if anything doesn’t make sense lmk. ALSO i am catching up on requests rn, if you requested something i promise i am working on it <3

#sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago

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Self indulgent but … thanksgiving w a gf who loves the holidays but doesn’t have family or friends to spend them with ?

This is really small and super quick, I hope you enjoy it! I do hope you have a wonderful day! (Also went ahead and incorporated two things I made today just because my mind is too lazy to think of anything else. If you don’t like them, womp womp/jk Pretend Gotham War dosent exist)

—

Time written - 8:09 p.m

—

“You sure I’m not invading in on their celebration?” You vocalize your concern for about the fiftieth time after smoothing out your final layer of fluffy, whipped concoction for your dessert dish.

“If anything, Alfred will appreciate one less dessert to make.” Jason responds, casually leaning across the countertop across from you, watching you work your magic on making one of your miracle dishes. While you didn’t necessarily have to bring a dessert, you insisted as a show of good faith.

“It’ll give the old man a reason to sit down for once,” Jason adds, referring to Alfred’s insistence upon waiting by everyone until they got full plates and thoroughly enjoyed a majority of their meals.

You kept asking the same question, just with different rephrasing of words. You were nervous, Jason could see that by the way you smoothed the silicone spatula over the top of your dessert for the tenth time, insisting perfection on something that already tasted heavenly.

Jason would know. He’s always your designated taste tester.

You went above and beyond with everything you did; Making your own whipped cream, using Madagascar vanilla beans, making your own pudding base from scratch.

“Babe.”

“Hm?” You respond with a concentrated stare on your dish.

“Look at me real quick.”

You spare a short glance up at him, putting up a sweet front of a smile. “What? I’m almost done, Jay.”

“I know,” Jason curts. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”

You nod, swallowing before focusing again on the top of your dish. You picked up the recipe from an online blog article about three years ago; an upgrade on a traditional banana pudding using heavy cream and expensive flavoring, the dessert reeking of pure holiday that had to be shared with the rest of the world.

“Are you sure this looks okay?” You ask, feeling like the top of the dessert needed a lot more than wafer cookies and bananas. Nuts? Caramel drizzle?

“It looks great,” Jason insists, approaching your side of the counter, settling his hand along your hip. “Scratch that. It looks delicious, incredible, mouthwatering. All the good words, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but smile, your cheeks warming with his compliments. Raising your whipped cream spoon to his mouth, you tap his bottom lip before giving him a kiss, hearing his muffled chuckle shortly after.

“Decadent,” He adds, licking his bottom lip of any remaining, perfectly sweet cream. “Perfect. Believe me, Dick and Alfred will never see any banana pudding the same way again.”

You could only hope so, giving him another smile. You liked making this dish, bringing it to your work during little dinner parties. The loudest compliment was a dish scraped empty, yet no one ever asked for the recipe. No one wondered who made it, no one really asked.

“You sure it looks perfect?” Again, your doubts can’t help but have you repeat your broken vinyl record. “I want it to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” Jason gently reassures with firm sentiment, giving your cheek a soft squeeze. You set your mind to something, you keep at it until you’re perfectly satisfied. As stubborn as it makes you, you always try above your best.

This was your first official gathering with the entirety of Jason’s family. It wasn’t your first, as you’ve been over a few times before for pizza and burgers for movie nights, but never with every single Bat related member at a large, ornately decorated table in an extravagant dining room.

Especially, never with Bruce. Not until tonight, where they’d have a little private event to themselves at the manor. A rare occasion where masks and secret identities weren’t needed. Sometimes, criminal behaviors didn’t allow them a break, so this was truly a treat.

Dick could be himself, fussing over preferences of pumpkin and sweet potato to an annoyed Tim. Babs would scoff her amusement while recording them to show off during Christmas, and the rest would gawk or scoff, chatting amongst themselves or listening in on such a boisterous conversation.

This time, the special guest would be you; the girl Red Hood was sweet on long before you knew his name, becoming the sole guardian of every important identity of the Wayne family.

“Trust me. They invited you, it’ll just be us. It was a big vote with no one opposing.”

Those words brought a more comforting, genuine smile to your face, one Jason could tell was more truthful. Holidays were joyfully dreadful to spend alone in an empty home, the promise of a manor full of friendly faces happy to see you, happy to spend time with you and incorporate you into a tradition you desperately craved was a godsend. It felt too good to be true.

The best part of it all was how much Jason understood. He didn’t celebrate these kinds of holidays when he was a child. No foster family, or even his own mother, could spare enough money to provide grand meals and hours of spending time with people you care for.

It took him a long time to get used to it, he wanted that for you as well. You deserved it after all, they all liked you in their own unique way.

“I’m sure a solid nine out of ten attendants will enjoy those sugar cookie martinis,” Jason murmurs while adjusting a few strands of your hair, reminding you of the one underage family member that ‘tolerated’ your presence.

“Do they got a full stock of vanilla vodka?”

“Course they do. Personally know Bruce has a ton of amaretto.”

“‘Personally?’”

“All those bottles for our dates, babe. Grabbed them all from somewhere.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd dc

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