#It's gonna be about a 3 month long program

[gxlden-angels]

The intake meeting was a success, gang

I have my first meeting with the religious trauma coach later today wish me luck blasphemers 🫡

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 1- Jello at Your Front Door

Summary: 15 years ago, a football and a boy four doors down makes your move to Florida a little more bearable. Now, you're not quite sure how to feel when you find out he's shown up back at home unannounced

Word Count: 5.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, Frankie has a nickname for reader)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, meeting Frankie for the first time, cute, awkward baby Frankie, a football throw Santi will never forgive you for

A/N: ... Hey.... How y'all doin'.... Remember when I said I was gonna start a different Frankie series months ago? I hope you humbly accept this as my official formal apology for not being able to get my shit together, as I present this offering to you instead 🙂 I started writing this 24 hours ago and I legitimately couldn't stop, so here we are??? I know this is a different style that what I normally write, but here's to trying new things (and hopefully finishing them). I hope you guys enjoy 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Next Chapter

You, Present

“Frankie’s home.” 

You weren’t really sure how to comprehend how the combination of those two words would be one of the worst sucker punches you’d taken to your gut in the better part of the last decade. 

As the sentence replayed over and over in your head, you could think of any other combination of two words that would have scared you less. 

“Hurricane’s coming.” 

“Bomb’s dropping.” 

“World‘s ending.” 

In a universe where things make sense, the response these would elicit from the average person would be reasonable, rational even. When you’ve been given a warning about the way two words have the potential to alter your reality, you can’t help but panic. 

But today, you’ve woken up in a universe where things don’t make sense. 

And what’s worse is, you didn’t even get a warning. 

The statement shouldn’t have shaken you as much as it did. When you’d seen his truck parked in the driveway four houses down, you knew it had to be him. Anyone else in the world would be caught dead driving the barley mobile piece of metal he’d been traveling in for the better part of 20 years. But Frankie Morales was not anyone else. He’d drive that damn car until the wheels fell out underneath him. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten in a stubborn stare down with his 1989 maroon Chevrolet Silverado. You had a sneaking suspicion that today wouldn’t be your last. 

“Why is Fr- Why is he back?” 

You hadn’t intended for your tone to be so bitter, but the taste of Frankie’s name on the tip of your tongue left a taste in your mouth so sour, you wanted to recoil into yourself. 

“Why do you think?” It was clear your mother had no interest in playing into your game of cruel intentions, barely paying you any mind as she glanced out the window, unphased by the looming presence in the Morales’s driveway, “You should go say hello.” 

“No thanks, I’m not a fan of purposely ruining the rest of my day.” You don’t mean for your eyes to roll as far back into your head as they do, but you can’t help it. At this point it seems like an innate, programmed response. Simply the thought of Frankie Morales was enough to dampen your mood; an intentional confrontation was the last thing you needed. 

“You’re going to have to see him at some point, you know. Can’t hide from him the whole time he’s here.” 

Your mom hadn’t even given you the chance to rebuttal, disappearing from your bedroom to leave you to stew in your own resentment, because she knew as well as you that it was pointless to fight back. 

At some point, you’d have to face Frankie. Today, you’d stick to hiding. 

You, Summer of 1999, Age 11

26 total hours trapped in a U-Haul with your family and every item you’d ever owned was not the way you had planned to spend your last week of summer before starting middle school. You’d hoped that the nearly 3 day journey from Michigan to Florida would be long enough to help you cope with your distress. Unfortunately, you weren’t shocked that cramped quarters and unclear driving directions in the midst of uprooting your life wasn't doing much to lighten your mood. 

Your parents had promised you the move would be worth it. That starting a new life halfway across the country would be good for your family. You weren’t quite sure what positives Florida posed to you, but even at the ripe age of 11, it didn’t take a genius to realize that “starting over somewhere new” was code for “trying to keep your dad alive.” 

The doctors back home were thrilled to tell you about the new, potentially life saving treatment for his rapidly progressing colon cancer. You were thrilled too, until that new, life saving treatment meant moving 1,300 miles from home. 

Not once did you protest- keeping your dad a living, breathing part of your life was better than having to say goodbye to your best friends, but it still didn’t mean every mile you drove further and further south down I-75 was another grain of salt in your freshly open wound. 

Your parents had tried to incentivise you with all the joys that Florida would have to bring- warm, sunny weather, beaches, being a 3 hour drive away from Disney world, a bigger house, the list went on and on. And while you knew one day you’d find joy in the rewards you’d reap from your sacrifice, you had a feeling that day wouldn’t be coming any time soon. 

It took too many movers to count to finally get your new house to resemble what was supposed to be a home. There was something so unsettling about seeing your furniture reassembled into unfamiliar corners of a place you’d never been. Even the things that were supposed to feel familiar and comforting now felt distant and foreign, scrambled in the walls of your new residence like a child who had shaken up a box of their favorite toys and dumped them out on the ground, leaving behind a mess for someone else to clean up. 

The only solace you could seem to find in the wave of chaos that had washed over your life was the view outside your bedroom window. A quiet escape, perfectly positioned to watch the warm rays of sunset fade behind the rooftops, the night slowly shifting into shades of black and blue as your eyelids became heavy.

Each night as you drifted to sleep, you dreamt about the ways you could be saved from the lonely island you were trapped on. A sole survivor begging to be found. You tossed and turned in the sea of your twisted bedsheets, crying out that there would be someone, anyone who would risk their life to rescue yours. 

On the first two nights, the only response to your pleas was a deafening silence, an insult to injury that you were destined to spend the rest of your life on a godforsaken landmass no one would ever find. On the third night, your cries carried on the winds of the warm summer air, sneaking through the cracks of an open window four doors down. 

“You should go out there and play with those boys down the road! They look like they’re probably about your age!” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the two gangly figures racing up and down the street for the better part of the last hour, hoping they wouldn’t catch your passing glances through your living room window as you pretended to watch whatever episode of “Rocket Power” aired next on Nickelodeon. Perhaps the pair boys hadn’t noticed you watching them, but your dad had surely noticed the way you could have cared less about whatever was on the TV in front of you. 

“They’re playing football, I don’t really think they’d probably want me to play.” You huff under  your breath. 

“You’re good at football. Probably better than they are.” Your dad laughs like it’s meant to be funny, but you know he’s serious. He’ll never admit to you out loud he wished his only child would have been a boy, but you’ve never minded playing the role of the son he never had. 

And he’s not wrong. You definitely are a better throw than either of them. 

“They’re gonna think it’s weird that a girl’s asking to go play football with them.” The sigh that follows this is even more annoyed than the last, now too self aware at 11 years old to revert back to the days of approaching kids you’ve never met on the playground and asking to join in without needing to worry about the social repercussions of your actions. 

“Well, you can either pout and pretend to watch TV, or you could go try to make some friends. That’s up to you, Bud.” He smirks at the scrunch in your brow and flair in your nostrils, the same face he knows he makes when he’s been hit by the cold, hard truth he doesn’t like. 

You know he’s right. 

“Fine,” You grumble, reluctantly pushing yourself off the edge of the couch, “But if they’re dumb, I’m coming back home.” 

“Atta girl. Go easy on ‘em, Killer.” 

As you step outside, it feels like you’ve become some sort of jungle explorer, trying to approach a herd of wild animals in their element without startling them to the point of attack. You’d even brought a peace offering to ease the introductions, hoping that your own football would be an appreciated contribution to their game. 

As you make your way down the street, you’re not sure if you’re particularly good at sneaking up on the boys, they haven’t noticed your presence, or worse, they’re actively trying to ignore you in hopes that you’ll go away. 

“H-Hi.” You stammer, half attempting to wave at the back of their heads, nowhere near close to catching their attention. 

“Hello?” This time it’s a little louder, slowly taking a few steps closer, “Hi?” 

God, maybe it’s a fourth option you hadn’t considered and they’re both deaf. 

“Hey!” 

This one finally catches their attention, causing both boys to turn around cautiously, not sure whether they’re more shocked that someone’s interrupted whatever play they’re about to run, or that the person who’s interrupted them is you. 

All of three of you stand in silence for a moment, mind racing in curiosity as you take in the image of clumsy limbs and messy mats of hair stuck to sweaty foreheads. The one boy is shorter, thick, jet black curls sprouting from the top of his head and arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face that’s not quite mean, but most definitely not welcoming. 

The other, taller and lankier, a mop of dark brown hairs twisting at the nape of his neck, eyes soft as he glances back and forth between you and his friend. His demeanor is much different, almost nervous compared to the boy standing next to him, fits balled in the pockets of his shorts while the adam’s apple he still needs to grow into bobs in his throat. 

For as much as no one wants to draw in the silent standoff you’ve entered, you started this mess, so you might as well be the first one to fold. 

“H-hi. Sorry, I um, I didn’t wanna interrupt-” 

“I mean, you did.” The shorter boy mumbles, wincing as the nervous one slaps him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Jesus, what was that for, asswad?!” 

“Let her talk!” He grunts, sneering at his friend before turning back to you, his face much kinder now than the expression he just gave to his friend. “Sorry. You can um, you can keep talking if you want. Sorry about him.” 

You try not to laugh at the exchange, but it’s hard not to smirk at the way the two have managed to put themselves on display in the thirty seconds you’ve spent talking to them. 

“It’s okay. I um- I just moved in down the street. That green house over there.” All of your eyes shift as you point behind you, signaling where your journey had begun a few moments ago, “I was uh- I was wondering if you guys wanted another person to play with? I- I brought my own football.” 

“Normally you only need one football to play football, duh. Do you even know how football works?” 

In an instant, your heart sinks to your gut, eyes dropping to the ground to watch your feet start to drag across the pavement, back to where you came. But before you can lift the sole of your sneaker from the cement, a voice stops you. 

“She obviously does or she wouldn’t ask, numbnuts! C’mon, Santi, don’t be a dick.” 

Although it’s not directed at you, it’s enough to bring your attention back to the kinder boy, no name yet, but quite positive it’s not also Santi (or asswad). The two of you lock eyes for a moment, a strange sort of calm running through you as his slight half smile reveals his brace covered teeth, looking at you in a way that makes you feel just a little less small. 

“Yeah, you can play with us. I’m Frankie, by the way.” 

Frankie. 

There’s something about his name that fits him so perfectly. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know from the way it rolls off your tongue that it just feels right. 

“Hi, Frankie. I’m Mackenzie.” 

Frankie’s hands are now out of his pockets, a line of defense dismantled after hearing your name. 

“Hello? Have we forgotten about me? There are three of us here, remember?” 

“This is Santi. Well, Santiago, but we all call him Santi.” The way Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend tells you everything you need to know about their friendship, giggling at the way he dramatically pouts as he introduces him. 

“Mackenzie? Isn’t that, like, a last name?” Santi asks, still not yet warmed up to the idea of you, but intrigued enough to ease how tightly his arms are crossed. 

“And? Isn’t Santiago the capital of Chile?” You sass, your mater-of-factness and quick wit making Frankie unintentionally snort. 

“Alright, touché, Christopher Columbus.” Santi mocks, acting tough to try and hide the pink blooming in his cheeks. 

“I like Mackenzie. I think it’s cool.” 

There’s something about the way he says it that you know he means it, wondering why the way hearing your name fall from his lips churns your stomach in a sensation you’d never felt before this moment. 

“Yeah, well, just so you know, Frankie is short for Francisco.” Santi interrupts, trying to find a way to get a jab back at either you or Frankie, at this point he doesn't really care which. 

“Well, last time I checked, there wasn’t a Francisco, Chile.” 

That one sends Frankie into full blown hysterics, boyish snickers taunting his friend, whose attempt to save his namesake has left him the butt of the joke. 

“Will the two of you clowns just shut up and throw the ball? If you’re gonna let her play, Frank, can we at least make sure she can throw?” Santi whines, using every ounce of prepubescent strength he has left to play into his unbothered facade. 

“You can use your ball if you want.” Frankie suggests, shrugging at his indifference to the ball held in your hand compared to the one held in yours. 

“No! If she’s playin’, she’s usin’ our ball!” Santi’s voice trails further away with each step back he takes, settling himself in the middle of the street a few feet down from where you and Frankie stood, not willing to take any more risks when it comes to you, even if it’s something as stupid as a football. 

“Fine by me.” You shrug, happily obliging to his request, Frankie giving you a silent nod of reassurance as he passes his football off to you. 

It’s only now you notice he’s nervous again, one hand back in his pocket as he wriggles his toes in the ends of his worn sneakers while you size up your toss, knowing he’s worried that Santi will never let him live it down if the ball can’t make it more than three feet in front of you. 

Neither of you would know it then, but the silent exchange you make with Frankie as you line up your throw would be the first of many unspoken promises you’d keep to him. What seemed like a simple task,  to prove worthy of his friendship by throwing a football, would turn out to be the most important promise you'll ever make to Fransisco Morales. 

You weren’t ever going to let him down. 

“You can go further back.” You shout, almost offended by the distance Santi had chosen to stand away from you. 

“If you can make it this far, I’ll be impressed.” 

“You promise you’ll go get it after I throw it past you?” 

“I promise, Joe Montana, throw the damn ball.” 

You shrug at Frankie, like he’s supposed to know what comes next. He’s too scared to question either of you, all he can do is let his eyes dart back and forth between you and Santi, knowing there’s no world where both of you can prove your point. What scares him more is that he trusts you more than his friend. 

You line your fingers up on the laces, gripping the leather like your life depends on it. In a way, it does. With a step forward, your arm hurls the ball, two of the three of you standing dumbfounded in the street as you watch it soar further and further past its intended target, spirling through the sky until it bounces off the cement with an acrobatic roll, three times the distances of where Santi had placed himself. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. You just smile and shrug- it's the best “I told you so” you could give them. 

“Fine. She can stay.” 

To this day, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a compliment from Santi. 

“Nice work, Kenz.” 

Your stomach flips. You try to blame it on the adrenaline of it all, that there was no way a compliment so simple had you wiping your sweaty palms over the denim of your shorts, trying your best to erase any evidence that he was the reason your heart was racing out of your chest. 

Now it’s 15 years later, and as much as you hate him, you still can’t get that goofy, brace faced smile out of your mind. 

Frankie, Present 

There’s a reason he shows up at 1 A.M. Everyone’s asleep. If the world is asleep around him, he’s safe from having to deal with anyone, at least until morning. There’s a part of him that wishes he would have parked his truck down the street, tricking you into thinking that he wasn’t even there. 

It’s hard to justify when you’re the reason he’s back home in the first place. 

When he got the call from his mom, he knew he had to come. He didn't want to, but he knew he’d hate himself forever if he didn’t. 

“Hey, Mamá.” 

“Francisco, how quickly can you make it home?”  

“Mom, I told you, I’m not-” 

“It’s Doug. He’s in hospice.” 

“Fuck. How um- how much longer do they think he has?” 

“When I talked to Michelle, she said they were hoping for a few more weeks. But I’m not sure. He doesn’t look good, mi amor. If you want to say your goodbyes, now’s the time.” 

“O-okay. I can probably be home by tomorrow. Gonna be late though. Is uh- is she, um-” 

“She’s here. For about a week or so already. She keeps looking over at your empty spot in the driveway just like she did all those years you were away. Waiting for you, Francisco.” 

It’s the lump in his throat and ache in his chest that gets him home an hour and fifteen minutes faster than what his GPS said it would. He’s not sure what delusional part of his mind thinks that maybe you’ll be waiting for him when he pulls into the driveway. Maybe it’s the same delusional part of his mind that pictured you sitting there, cross legged on the concrete, staring up at the sky to count stars like sheep, waiting for him to come home all those years ago. 

He’s also not sure why it hurts so bad when he shows up and you’re not there. 

Frankie feels like he’s 16 again, sneaking into his own house in the wee hours of the night, digging the spare key out from under the doormat, attentive to the practiced pattern of how to avoid squeaks in the hinges as he turns the lock behind him, careful not to wake a single sleeping soul. He tiptoes over the 4th stair to the second floor and barely taps the 7th before he finds shelter in his room, successful from his journey. 

Every time he comes home, he can’t help but laugh at the fact his mother refuses to change anything about his bedroom. Everything is in the same place it was the day he left for the Air Force, down to the pile of unfinished homework from his Senior year of high school stacked on his desk. Each time he sees it, he’s never sure if the source of his laughter is nostalgia or irony. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

When he looks at the picture frames scattered across his nightstand, a 17 year old Frankie stares back at him, tall and gangly, arms too big for his own body, an awful haircut he begged his mom to let him get. It was the year he discovered how much he couldn’t live without a hat, simply out of necessity for the 6 months it took for his hair to grow back out. You were the first one to tell him how cute he looked in the one hat he already owned. He bought three more in the weeks to come. 

He wonders what the 17 year old in those pictures staring back at him would think of him now. If there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that high school him would have beat the shit out of him for the way things turned out, scrawny limbs and all. 

It seems like the military has taught him how to sleep anywhere besides his own home, keeping company with the shadows dancing on his ceiling in the moonlight, tossing and turning in the tattered sheets of the twin sized bed his mom promised she’d upgrade when he got big enough. To this day, he and his mom both know he was never begging her for a new bed because he had outgrown it, he just always wanted to make room for one more person. 

He clocks 3 and a half hours of sleep as good enough, creeping out of his house the same way he had come in, making the 5.4 mile trip to Benson Park to watch the sun rise. Frankie’s always hated running, it’s just as much of a surprise to him as it is to everyone else that he keeps doing it. It makes his knees hurt like shit and his lungs feel like they’re being strangled by rubber bands, a cruel cycle of self punishment he can’t seem to shake his addiction for. 

He’s sat on the same side of the bench underneath the ancient Blooming Dogwood since the first time he came here. He tried one time to sit on the other side. He’s superstitious enough to believe his one time fuck up has had a lasting effect. The bench is so hidden at the back of the park, he likes to think that the two of you are the only ones to have ever found it. No one else has ever burst through the bubble of secrets shared between the two of you there, leaving the wood grain to be stained with memories and moments that have shaped the both of you, good and bad. 

It’s the first place you ever told him about your dad. It’s the first place he ever told you about his. His dad was already nothing but memories by then. It makes him sick to his stomach that soon, that’s all you’ll have left, too. 

Frankie, Fall of 1999, Age 11

“How much longer do we have, Frankie? I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!” 

“Quit being such a baby, you’re fine!” 

“Next time we have to ride our bikes this far, I’m pulling an E.T. and riding in the front basket of your bike.” 

“Perfect, you look just like him.” 

“Frankie!” 

“Kidding, kidding!” 

Frankie’s never had a friend like you before. Sure, he’s got Santi, but it’s not quite the same. 

Santi took some easing into- five years ago, when Frankie moved onto Everett Street, he became a friend by force, not choice. Santi staked his claim on him, seeing Frankie as a gift sent straight from heaven, finally having another boy his age to play with after too many years of being sentenced to dress up and tea parties from his 3 older sisters. 

Santi was everything Frankie wasn’t- loud, assertive, the kind of friend who grabs you by the hand and drags you along with them whether you liked it or not. There’s times now, after a half a decade of friendship, that Frankie still questions the way Santi’s brain is wired, but Frankie’s too good of a friend to ever make a fuss about it. 

You, on the other hand, needed no easing into. From the moment he met you, watching you toss that football so far past Santi that he was convinced it would disappear on the other end of the street, Frankie had been mesmerized by you. 

There’s something about you that makes him feel a weird thump in his chest every time you’re together. Everything about you gives him comfort in a way he can’t describe, a safety he’s felt with very few other people in his life until now. 

There’s just something about you. He still hasn’t been able to quite pinpoint what it is. 

Whatever it may be, it’s enough to invite you on a bike ride to the back of Benson Park instead of Santi. 

“Do you even know where we are? I don’t think there’s any more park left past this point, Frankie.” You huff, slowing the wheels of your bike behind him as you come to the edge of a steep rolling hill, nothing left in front of you but acres of empty land and tall grass. 

“Yeah, I do. Maybe we just passed the trail on the way in. We’ll just- We can just find it on the way back.” 

He knows you know he’s fibbing, but he wants your trust that he won’t lead you astray more than he wants to tell the truth. 

“Okay. There’s a bench underneath that tree. Can we just sit for a little bit before my legs turn to jello?” 

You’re already halfway off your bike before he can respond. Even if he had said no, there’s no way he’d leave without you. 

“Fine. What flavor jello?” 

“Whatever flavor is your least favorite so you don’t eat my legs, Francisco. That’s just weird.” 

The two of you laugh, tossing your bikes to the ground as you bottoms find the wood of the bench you’d pointed out, you on the right side, Frankie on the left. 

“My mom only ever gets the red kind. I don’t even really like it that much. Don’t worry, you’re safe, Kenz.” 

“I don’t really like it either. But we have every flavor at my house ‘cause that’s like, all my dad eats.” 

Frankie starts to laugh like you’re playing a joke on him, trying to pretend your dad’s diet exists exclusively of artificially flavored gelatin, but your sudden silence and the way your voice drops to the ground right with your eyes tells him he’d better stop snickering. 

“Your dad only eats jello?” 

“Well not only, but a lot of it, I guess.” 

His face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and concern at your sadness. He’s never heard you this quiet before. 

“Um, w-why?” 

The silence is almost deafening. He’s not sure why he should be so concerned with asking about jello, but he’s too curious to let it go. He selfishly wants to know what about it makes you so upset, because he just as selfishly hopes there’s something he can do to make you feel better. 

“My dad has cancer. He’s really sick. He can’t really eat a lot, but jello’s the one thing he can keep down most of the time without, like, throwing up or whatever.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, like you’re worried someone else will hear and spill the rest of your secrets right along with this one. You say it like he’s the only one in the world you want to hear it. 

“I’m- I’m sorry. That sucks.” 

Frankie blames it on his instincts, the way his hand finds yours, outstretched on the bench. He touches you like he’s handling a baby bird who’s fallen out of its nest, delicate and careful, calculated, hoping you won’t try to fly away in fear. Instead, your hand welcomes his, scooting closer to the weight of his palm resting on top of it. He feels you give in as you let him carry you back to safety of the tree you’ve descended from. 

“It’s okay. That’s why we moved here. The doctors in Michigan said that there were even better doctors here who could maybe help make his cancer go away.” 

“And then maybe he won’t have to eat as much jello.” He takes a gamble with the joke, but it pays off with your surprised snort, “Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t be joking about it.” 

“I mean, it was, but it was funny. It’s okay, my dad jokes about it, too. He always says, one day, it’ll be funny, so might as well make that day today.” 

His heart warms as he watches a small smile return to your face. It heats the pink in his cheeks when he realizes he was the one who helped bring it back. 

“Your dad sounds nice.” 

“He is. Even though he doesn’t feel good a lot of the time, he still always tries to come to my soccer games and stuff. I know he can’t be like what he was before he was sick, but he tries to be. What about your dad?” 

Frankie prays you don’t notice the way his heart sinks like he noticed yours. He chews on the inside of his lip so hard, he thinks it may bleed. He wants to lie, but he knows that you’ll know. You always know. 

“Um, I don’t- I don’t really see my dad.” 

It’s you now who's grabbing his hand, offering him the same type of safety net he’d made for you. He’s barely known you two months. He’s known Santi for five years and all he knows is that his dad doesn’t live with him. Frankie didn’t want to tell him, he’s not sure he’d understand. There’s a strange sensation that swirls in his gut, because he wants to tell you. You’d laid the first brick in the foundation of trust between the two of you. The least he can do is help you keep building. 

“Oh. Why don’t you see him?” He sees you’re prying, but not in a way that hopes to expose him. He knows you’re prying because you want him to let you in, to get a peek at what's behind the curtain. It’s a locked door most people in his life will ever get access to, but he’ll let you have a spare set of keys. 

“I never really knew him. My mom said he left when I was a baby. She says she’s always been happy it’s just me and her. That it was easier to live with one less person than to live with someone who was mean.” 

“Your mom sounds like a wise lady.” 

He appreciates the fact humor was your first response, too, it makes the sting of ripping the stitches off a still-healing wound hurt just a little less. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Still kinda wish I had a dad, though, ya know?” 

“You can borrow my dad whenever you want. As long as you don’t mind super embarrassing, stupid jokes.” 

“Are they as bad as mine?” 

“No. They’re worse.” 

Neither of you would have minded staying just a little bit longer, but the bright reds and yellows of the setting October sky remind you both that the parents you’ve opened up about are expecting you back before night washes over the quaint suburbia of your town. The bike ride home is much quieter than the one there, but the simple silence seems to speak louder than anything he’d have to say. 

The next day, Frankie would raid the cabinets of his kitchen for every last packet of jello he could find and bring them all to your front door.

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[prettyinpwn]

I know I'm gonna sound like a crazy old broken record... but hear me out. Lots of speculation as to the true purpose of the thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com thing beneath the cut.

So... does anyone else feel like the ARG website is... odd? Like it's leading to something more coming? And before anyone screams, "Well, ackshully, Hirsch said he doesn't want to do a Season 3-"

YES. I KNOW. He said no Season 3 a million times. I was there when he told us Season 2 was it for the first time. But what he didn't say, however, was, "No more Gravity Falls anything... EVER.". Hence why we've gotten Journal 3, Lost Legends, and now The Book of Bill. Hirsch is veeerrrrry comfortable making more GF stuff.

And as someone that studied programming in college, I can tell you, this website does not seem like it was easy or cheap to make. It's effectively a single screen point and click game in a browser. Looking at the code, it seems they did use a framework called Bridgetown, lacing in looped animated MP4 files with clickable assets on top that make up the interactive elements (e.g the computer), with a lot of content made for the website itself from image files and text for each prompt a user might type. Sure, it's not the most difficult thing to program, but it's a lot more complex than, say, the searchfortheblindeye site back in the day.

That, and as someone who has worked in the corporate world, I'm sorry, but you don't pour this much effort/money into something that is just "lol cool things after product for funsies". If this was just for The Book of Bill, the smart marketing decision would have been to make the lofi album and the website, tease fans with both of them, and let them lead to an announcement of the book itself to tempt them into buying it, not the other way around. Like... Disney ain't gonna do that just out of love for fans. It's Disney, come on. They do things for money.

It's possible that Hirsch paid for it himself just for the fans, but I doubt it. Wanna know why? Because of the website's security certificate and ownership. Let's take a gander at this:

There are two odd things here. One, the range of the expiration. Most security certs last 1-2 years, at least they did at one of my previous places of employment (and we had like 50+ of them). This one expires November 7th, 2024. Odd, but maybe they only want the website up for a few months? Anyways, as an aside, everyone keep an eye out for November 7th, 2024. Could be nothing, could be something.

The other weird thing is the domain holder. Looking it up on ICANN, it gives this address:

Look that up on Google Maps, and it takes you to a company called Dun and Bradstreet. Long story short, the company does a bazillion things, but the main thing we're talking about here is:

Oh gee, Sales and Marketing. And their Sales and Marketing tools? Basically, they use data to tell companies who their audience is, so that they can market to them. Now, why would Disney care about this for a fandom for a show that's been done for almost a decade, just for a book that was released before said website (so we know they're not gathering marketing data for the book)?

Well, if I were to guess... long story short, all this stuff is a tactic to gauge who the Gravity Falls audience is now. Release the book, make some dough and fans happy, tie in a secret marketing data collection gimmick (AKA the website) using D&B as a vendor to hook the data into your CRM, send fans to a website to collect marketing data, and shabam. Now you know who the target market is all this time after.

And why in the hell would a company care about that? You tell me. Why care about who a target market is if you're not planning on marketing something to them later?

It could be that Disney is planning something similar to Gravity Falls and wants to gauge if there'd still be a market for that kind of show. Or... it could mean that Disney is planning on something more substantial related to Gravity Falls or Hirsch pitched it, and they were like, "Well, wait, let's collect data on this, first, so we'd know if it'd be a good business decision.". Not sure.

I mean, maybe I'm crazy, but doesn't this seem fishy to anyone else? If anyone else has any hypotheses as to why Hirsch and Disney have a Gravity Falls website owned by D&B, let me know, but to me... this smells... very... marketing oriented. And Hirsch doesn't seem like the guy to pour his own money into hiring an outside company to gather marketing data, that seems more up Disney's alley.

[americasass91]

Use Me

Hello there! I know I’ve been M.I.A. for awhile. And literally haven’t written anything in like 8 months. I’ve been going through a shit ton. (Divorce, job change, all kinds of fun stuff) And I really lost my spark to write. And then the Fnaf movie came out. And seeing Josh Hutcherson on screen again lit a fire inside of me! That boy was my original crush (long before Evans). Peeta Mellark will forever have a piece of my heart. That being said, here’s a little something starring Mike Schmidt! I know, I know. It’s not a Chris Evans character? What’s wrong with me? Josh is fucking pretty. That’s what’s wrong with me. Like, I have a problem. Don’t get me wrong, I still think Chris is pretty and hope the best for him. But…he’s not been my muse lately. I said a long time ago that I wanted Josh to fuck me like a screen door in a hurricane. And it apparently still holds true today! So, I hope you enjoy it even though this is not a part of your regularly scheduled programming! Also, this takes place after the events of FNAF. Also, Also. Not sure if the people on my Taglist for Chris’ characters want to be tagged in Josh’s. If so, just let me know!

*DISCLAIMER*, If you’re under 18, this is nothing for you to be reading. Go away.

Words: 3.3k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, p in v smut, oral(f rec), unprotected sex, language, Mike being good, um I think that’s it

💙💙💙💙💙 

“Listen Y/N, I’m gonna need you to stay and work the next shift.”

You turn around and look at your manager as if she had suddenly grown 3 heads. “Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said you needed me to stay and work the next 8 hour shift.”

She rolls her eyes as she goes back to charting the current patient she’s working on. “You know that’s exactly what I said. Look, I have no other options. Hannah called off.”

“Again? This is like the third day in a row! How is that fair exactly?” You put your patient’s paperwork down and cross your arms over your chest as you stare at her expectantly.

She doesn’t even bother looking at you as she answers. “I don’t know what to tell you Y/N. She says she’s sick. I can’t have her come in if she’s sick.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “If by sick you mean hungover! She literally posted on Instagram last night about her night out on the town!”

She glances over at you. “There’s no way to prove if that was from last night or if it's older. Now just get back to work and I’ll let you have an hour and a half break instead of an hour.”

Now you’re pissed. “Yeah, see, that's not going to work for me. I’ve already been here for 16 hours because Kim was late. I’m not working Hannah’s whole ass shift. I have plans. I finally get to see my boyfriend after weeks because our schedules weren’t lining up. I’m not staying.”

“You really don’t have a choice. I wasn’t really asking you, I was telling you. There’s no one else to cover.”

Tears started welling up in your eyes out of frustration, exhaustion, and the possibility of not being able to see Mike again. “There’s a bunch of other people that can cover! What about you? You’ve only been here 8 hours. It would make more sense for you to stay.” 

She turns in her chair to look at you now. “Y/N, I have actual plans. My husband has a work party. And the rest of us have husbands and children to attend to. Not just ‘hanging out with my boyfriend.’

Now you’re seeing red. “So what you’re saying is because I’m the only nurse on this floor not married, I get the shitty end of the deal and have to cover when other people call off?”

“No. If you had legit plans then I’d be more sympathetic. But you haven’t even been with this boy that long. You don’t need to spend every free moment with him.”

“I’m sorry but who do you think you are? My mother? Because I’m a grown ass woman. And if I want to hang with my boyfriend on my time off then I’m going to! I don’t really need your approval for it. I’m not staying.”

You grab your Stanley and start heading towards the locker room to grab your stuff. 

“Y/N! If you don’t stay, then you can forget about this job.”

You turn around just before reaching the end of the hallway. “Well, then I guess you’re going to have to stick around and cover Hannah’s shift. Stick it up your ass, Jan. I quit.”

You don’t even stay to hear what she has to say. You quickly run to your locker and grab all of your stuff out before you start to cry. You can’t believe you just quit. And it’s not just because of your boyfriend. You haven’t been treated right since the first week you started. This was just the last straw. You just hope Mike won’t be disappointed in you.

💙💙💙💙💙

After a quick shower and outfit change at home, you reluctantly find yourself pulling into Mike’s driveway and getting out of the car. You haven’t gotten to see him in about 3 weeks and you know you look like shit from not only your long ass shift but also because you cried on the way over.

You head to the front door and open it up. He always leaves the door unlocked when he knows you’re coming over, and get hit with the aroma of pasta. Mike’s cooking you dinner. That makes you want to start crying all over again. He’s the sweetest.

“Babe? Is that you?” You hear him call from the back of the house. He quickly comes towards the front and sees you. His smile falters when he sees the state you’re in. “Babe, are you okay? What happened?” He quickly wraps you up in a hug. 

You try your best to keep it together but a few tears fall. “I quit today.”

He pulls out of the hug but keeps his arms around you. “You did? Babe, that’s fantastic!” He pulls you back in for another hug and picks you up to twirl you around.

Your mood instantly lifts and you can’t help but laugh. “It is?”

He sets you down and pulls you in for a quick kiss. “Of course it is! That place was treating you like shit! And Jan was a bitch! What finally made you do it?”

He lets go of all but your hand and leads you into the kitchen so he can continue making spaghetti. He sets you down at the table and pours you a nice big glass of wine he bought just for tonight. “I want to hear all about it.”

He goes back to the stove and continues making dinner while you rehash the last 16 hours.

He turns around with the sauce spoon in his hand and his other on his hip. “Hannah called off again? Jesus, how does she still have a job? Didn’t she do this to you last year during Christmas?”

Oh, shit. You had forgotten about that. She did do this last year! You had plans to fly home and see your family for the holidays when Hannah unexpectedly came down with ‘the flu’. Jan had called and needed you to work since nobody else could cover. You felt like since you were still new at the time that you couldn’t say no. Now you’re getting pissy all over again. 

“Oh my god! You’re right! Maybe the bitch has some vendetta out against me. I’ve never done anything to her though! I’ve been nothing but nice!”

Just then your phone dings, alerting you of a text. You quickly check it. It’s from Hannah.

I can’t believe you threw a tantrum and quit just because I wasn’t feeling my best and couldn’t come in. Wow. All so you can hang out with your piece of shit delinquent boyfriend. You sure have your priorities straight.

“Fucking cunt!” You yell as you throw your phone across the table. Then immediately you slap your hands over your mouth just as Mike turns around to see what you’re yelling about.

“What’s wrong? Who was it?”

You remove your hands from your mouth. “Mike, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to curse that loud. I hope Abby didn’t hear me.”

He waves you off. “Babe, she’s not even here. She got invited to a sleepover at Natalie’s house. We’re alone. You’re good.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank god! I don’t want any of my bad habits to rub off on her.”

Mike just chuckles and turns back to the sauce. “If she turns out anything like you, I’d be entirely okay with that.”

You can’t help but feel a blush creep up your neck. He was always saying sweet stuff like that. You get up and hug him from behind and press a kiss to the back of his neck. “You’re too sweet.”

He turns around in your arms and grabs your face and gives you a proper, toe-curling kiss. “I mean it.”

After a few more shared kisses, Mike finishes up dinner and fixes you both a plate and a glass of wine for himself. As you’re sitting there twirling your spaghetti around your fork, you can’t help but think about Hannah’s text again. And then all of the little snide remarks she’s ever made to you come flooding back.

“Babe?”

You snap out of your thoughts and Mike comes back into focus. “Yeah?”

He puts his fork down. “I asked if there was something wrong with the spaghetti? You’ve hardly touched it.”

You look down at your plate and realize you’ve just been twirling it around your fork. “No, it’s fine. Just thinking about what Hannah said and how much it pisses me off. I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to ruin our time together.”

He smiles and grabs both of your plates and gets up and places them on the counter. He comes back over and holds his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You grab his hand with no hesitation and let him pull you out of your chair and let him lead you to his bedroom.

He turns around to face you right before you get to his bed. “First of all, you could never ruin our time together. I love getting to spend time with you no matter what. Second of all, it sounds like you need to let out some anger and need a distraction.”

You can’t help but feel all tingly at the smirk he’s giving you. “What did you have in mind?”

He backs up a little and sits on the bed and looks up at you. “Use me, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “What? What do you mean?”

He reaches out to grab your hands to pull you towards him. “I mean use me. Use me to distract yourself and to take your anger out on. I’ll be a good boy and do whatever you need.”

That almost had your knees buckling. “Oh.” He lifts your shirt up and starts pressing kisses along your stomach while running his hands from your back to your hips and down to your ass. You’ve never been in this position before. Sure, you guys have only been together for like 5 months but anytime you’ve ever been intimate, he’s been the one who’s taken charge.

He pulls back and looks up at you. “Use me, baby. I got you. Tell me what you need.”

You decide to run with it and take control and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I wanna sit on your face.”

He lets out a little whimper as he moves back on the bed. “Fuck, baby. Please sit on my face. I want you to suffocate me.”

He lays back and patiently waits for you to remove your pants and panties. You hesitantly climb up on the bed. You’ve never done this before with anyone but have always wanted to try it. You climb up until you’re straddling his waist and lean down to kiss him. 

He returns the kiss enthusiastically and grinds you down onto him so you can feel how hard he already is for you. It makes you let out a small moan into his mouth. The making out only lasts for a few more minutes before you pull away and start climbing up until you’re hovering right above his mouth.

Before you fully lower yourself onto him you grab his hair and yank so that he has to look at you. He lets out another beautiful whimper. “I’m going to ride your face until I can’t think of anything else but your tongue. You’re going to be good and make me cum as many times as I want, right?”

He nods instantly. “Yes, I promise I’ll be good for you.”

“Good boy.” You tell him, which makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. Hmm. Who knew he had a praise kink?

You let go of his hair and grab onto the headboard with both hands before you slowly lower yourself onto his waiting mouth. 

He immediately grips your thighs and pulls you even harder on him and starts eating you out like a man starved. “Oh, fuck!” You throw your head back and start grinding on his tongue. He gives you a few more licks before he sucks your clit into his mouth and starts lapping his tongue back and forth against it. “Oh, god. Fuck, Mike! You’re so fucking good at that.”

Your praise has him moaning and whimpering into your pussy, heightening the experience that much more. He moves his right hand towards your ass and gives it a nice squeeze before moving towards your pussy and immediately inserting two fingers.  It makes you start grinding faster, feeling yourself already close to the edge.

He starts pumping his fingers in time with your grinding, pushing you even closer to the edge. You can’t believe how quickly he got you there. 

“Mike, please! Gonna cum! Make me cum.”

He pumps his fingers even faster and lightly bites down on your clit, knowing it’ll make you fall over the edge.

You scream his name out and grind on him until it’s too much and you lift yourself away from his mouth. To which he whimpers out, “where’s that pussy going? I wasn’t done yet.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Jesus. I almost passed out from how hard I came. Give me a minute.”

“So I did good?” He looks up at you with big eyes and his chin glistening with your juices.

You pat his hair. “You did so good, baby. Made me feel so good.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around your thighs and presses soft kisses to the inside of them. You close your eyes and take a minute to enjoy that before you look behind you and see his erection pressing painfully against his jeans. You need that inside of you. Right now.

You remove yourself from his face and he lets out a little whine. “Don’t worry. I’m not done. Need your cock, baby.”

You’ve never seen him undo his belt and slide his jeans down that quickly before. It almost makes you chuckle. “Eager, are we?”

He nods as he pushes his jeans down far enough that his cock springs free and hits your ass. “Need to feel you around me, babe. Please.”

You lean down and pull him into a kiss which he returns generously. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He grabs his cock and hits it against your ass, signaling that he’s ready for you to slide onto him. You take the hint and lift up and back until he catches at your entrance. He’s the first one to break the kiss as you slowly slide down onto him. The little whimpers he lets out as you sit flush against his thighs is music to your ears.

You decide to tease him and just stay resting there for a minute while looking down at him. He has his eyes clenched shut and a death grip on your hips. He opens his eyes after a few moments and looks up at you. He reaches his right hand up and places it on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “Go ahead and use me babe. Take what you need from me.”

You slowly start moving your hips back and forth, never really lifting them up and down. The friction against your clit is so delicious. You place both hands on his chest and start moving your hips a little faster. “Oh, fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so deep.” 

“Yeah? Am I making my girl feel good?”

You smirk down at him. “Oh, yeah. You’re being so good for me.”

He lets out another whimper as he grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you in for a heated kiss. This one sloppy and desperate. His hand that’s still on your hip starts moving you a little harder against him. He pulls away from your mouth and kisses his way up your neck towards your ear. “Come on babe. Cum on my cock. I can feel you clenching around me. Cum for me so I can be good and cum for you.”

This time you’re the one letting out a whimper. “Yeah? Want me to be your good boy and cum for you? Fill you up?”

“Please.” You whine out, moving your hips even faster than before. You can feel your orgasm coming like a freight train. There’s no stopping it. 

“Oh yeah. I can feel it. You’re gonna cum for me. Do it. Make a mess on me babe. Please, I need it.”

“Yeah? You need me to cum for you? Need to feel me cum? Oh, god Mike. I’m almost there. Please don’t stop.”

He continues helping you grind your hips against his. You’re almost there. Just a little something…..

“I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

That did it. You’re pitched off the edge and silently scream out. The edges of your vision going white. You can vaguely hear Mike whimpering out your name as he does as promised and fills you up. You slow your hips down until you can’t move them anymore and slump down against him with your face tucking into the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around you and rubs his hands up and down your back.

You both stay like that until your heartbeats return to normal. You lift up your head just until you can see him, almost nose to nose. He’s the first to speak. “So, did I do good for you?”

You let out a chuckle. “You were so good, baby.” You can feel him twitch inside of you at the praise. “But, we need to talk about what you said.”

Mike scrunches his brows for a few minutes before his eyes go wide and he realizes what he said. “Shit, I did not mean to say that.”

You can’t help the disappointment that crosses your face. “Oh, well that’s okay. It was in the heat of the moment.”

He quickly wraps his arms tighter around you. “No! That’s not what I meant. Shit. I one hundred percent meant it. I just wanted to make it special when I told you. Not in the middle of an orgasm. You deserve better than that.”

You smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I appreciate the thought. But I really don’t need anything special. I already have you.”

His smile lights up his entire face. “I love you, Y/N.”

This time you press a kiss to his lips. “I love you, too Mike. Like, a lot.”

“I bet not as much as I love you.”

Just as you’re about to retort, Mike’s cell starts vibrating, causing you to jolt with fright since his phone is still in his pocket which your leg is pressed up against.

“Jesus Christ.”

You quickly get up so that he can grab his phone. “Hello?”

You go into the bathroom to clean up. You come back in with a wet cloth to clean Mike up. He just hangs up as you come in the room. “Everything okay?”

He smiles in thanks as you hand him the cloth. He goes about cleaning himself up. “Yeah. That was Natalie’s mom. Apparently Abby has decided she doesn’t wanna stay the night so I have to go get her.” He stands and pulls his jeans back up and smooths his shirt out. “Sorry we won’t be alone anymore.”

You pull him in for a quick kiss. “Nothing to apologize for. I love you Mike. And that means loving all of you. Which includes Abby. Whom you know I just adore. Go get her and we’ll have a movie night or something.”

He shakes his head and pulls you in for another kiss. “I still don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You just smile in return. “After the past year you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy.”

He chuckles as he heads out the door. “Ain’t that the damn truth!”

[charmedreincarnation]

Ya bitch got into the void state

Champagne anon here and your mf girlll got in the mf void state and manifested her dream life. This happened a week ago, and I’ve been chilling but I do wanna share my story to help others. Gotta give Thanks to Maya, and so many other bloggers and even anon. Y’all hoes will forever be in my heart, and I’m forever grateful 🥹 also Maya girl you told me when I succeed to get into detail and I got nothing to do for the next two hours so imaaa just share it all here in detail.

I also wanna especially thank all the black creators on tumblr!! I didn’t know there were so many of us using the law. It always seems the world is so against us, and there’s nothing we can do abt it but nahhhh!! we can all live our best melanated lives regardless. Periodt, as we should it’s about goddamned time after everything we’ve been though 😂

Anyways!!!! after reading this: https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/717864613626134528/im-your-bubble-anon-but-i-made-this-burner-to success story yesterday I got hella motivated. I read that shit and I thought I posted it on accident because it was everything I had been through, and had been thinking anyways. That anon ate your tumblr habits btw. If y’all haven’t seen my good sis’s sucess post go check that shut out rn, On god it will help.

At the end that anon (my mf dawg 🙏) included that they manifested for everyone. Now ion know if that shit actually work tbh. I’ve seen people say you can and can’t, but tbh the vibes were too high for me to doubt. I was like ight, okay fuck it, ima leave my dream life. Whether it me, that anon, or the devil himself ion give a fuck.

So that’s whatssss a bitch did!!! I just affirmed all day it was very fulfilling. People who hate on affirming are mad corny. I can’t lie that shit works hella fast even if you don’t believe it. Idk if that anon’s void manifesting helped or what but I didn’t do much and after 3 months of trying I entered the damn void state. I’m mad I thought I had to be on some ghandi shit to do this (no hate to him hes da man) but you rlly don’t y’all. BUT LEMME TALK MY SHIT ALL YOU NEED IS AFFIRMING AND PERSISTENCE.

Anyways I went go bed excited asl!! I wrote my script that was like 10 pages long I can’t lie I did the most… but it’s whateva. I woke up in the void state after waking up at 4 am or sum, and i was like oh shityyyt lemme manifest rq and skrttt out this hoe. So that’s what a mf did 😂😂

Anyways the part y’all’s is waiting for. This is what ya girl manifested

Desired face and body. I was in shock how all the details came to life. Y’all im a solid 100/10 it’s giving natural bbl and Aliyah. I swear to gahhh everywhere I go people be trying to peep. I’m not used to being treated like a fucking celeb everywhere I go, whole time it’s just my fat gyattttt

Being the hottest 16 yr old IT GIRL at my school, and having lucky girl syndrome. People call me a mini jayda wayda, but tbh I’m better than her now. No hoe is ever gonna cheat on meee like they did her…bye. She’s still gorgeous as fuck tho

Perfect school life. Your girl is set to be the Valedictorian when I graduate (my school has 4!) I’m also sophomore year President, captain of the basketball team, apart of some volunteer programs through my school, and so much more. My resume and college application is abt to be so fuckin fire in 2 years. As I should Columbia is a competitive ass school 😤😤 that aside everyone always tryna link, I got 3 guys fighting over me (whole damn love square), so many people tryna be my friends, teachers love me, and I excel in everything I do.

My Family being rich assss fuck. My dad got a Wikipedia now and his net worth is 22 million dollars. He owns a hedge fund company now, we love a man in finance 😍😍 AS HE FUCKING SHOULD. He got a material gurlll daughter. Two in fact now.

Fire ass crib. Bro it’s a 9 million dollar penthouse, perfect for ragers. I woke up here and my room is decorated to my personality, pintrest clothes all in my closet, I got an exotic pitbull and frenchie, and the house is just mad clean and fire, I’m obsessed with it. Rarely ever wanna leave now.

My mom not being strict. That bald headed ass hoe use to be mad annoying. Y’all know how Haitians are. Mad annoying as fuck and strict for no reason. Now I go out everyday and come home at midnight and no one gives a fuck. Everyone minds their own business as they should.

Having an older brother and younger sister. I was an only child, because I was a miracle baby bc my mom was infertile. Now she got 3 of us, so she can stop being only in my buisness. I’m just playin I love my mom regardless she’s just hella clingy. Anyways my brother is mad protective but also be wrestling mad aggressive for no damn reason. He gave me a bruise but it’s whateva Ima get my lick back. I also always wanted to be an older sister, bc I’d love to be a role model! My sister is 10 and adores me soo much it’s so adorable 🥹 lmfaooo, she’s mad spoiled by me and my mom but it is what it is.

Successful lip gloss business and being a successful drop shipper. Now you didn’t think a sista wasn’t gonna give herself a career just because I’m young right 🤨🤨 we’ll ya wrong. Ya girl is making 200k-400k a year. I barely even use my money cause I got an allowance from my parents… but still, financial literacy and wealth is so important to me especially as a black woman.

A pookie bae. Y’all know I wasn’t gonna deal with finding a loyal cute and funny guy in nyc. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Anyways I got me a fine ass boo. I just wrote down all the features I wanted in him like for exampleS finically secure so he can spoil me, handsome as fuck, tall, funny asl, kind, little clingy, deep raspy voice, nice hand, good hygiene and style,yanno yanooo !!! Plus some other shit and whewww the void did me so good. Nowww my boo bear is a lil cracker and I’ve never dated a white boy befuh but my am I surprised. I wake up everyday with some long ass appreciation texts and plans already made ! Y’all know I love me a dominant man who knows what he wants. He’s got some nice ass clothes, nice car and crib, made me a passenger princess and spoils me way too much. He doesn’t complain abt my mood swings and simps in the best way possible. Not to mention he’s fine afkkk he’s giving vinnie hacker. He’s also 6’1 and I’m 5’1 so that height difference is soooo hot I can’t lie I feel so so safe with him 🫣 I could go on all day but in short he’s more than perfect

+ so much more but this is what shocked me the most. Anyways I’ve been living like this for the past week and it just feel so natural. I keep forgetting I got into the void but whateva I’m the only who knows anyways. Anyways live yo best life and neva give upppp. I gotta go but I’ll probably eventually make a blog. My names angela so look out for it. I’m just mad lazy soo idk tho !!!

Angela out 🫡✌️

Girl this was so fun to read, I’m just as excited for you lmfao. I love seeing black women win, and thank you for sharing your methods! Enjoy your best life and come back if it resonates with your life bae !!!

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[fandomscombine]

Maybe This Time

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

BG: Aaron Hotchner has been a constant in your life since university and as you both journey in your prosecutor career. But what happens when he has been given the opportunity of his dreams to be part of the BAU on the other side of the country? How will your dynamic change? Especially when feelings are put into the mix. 

Fluff part for now, before the angst. Enjoy the build up, young Hotch and obliviousness to feelings.

A/N: First ever Aaron Hotchner fic since something clicked in my brain and this man has me in a chokehold. Okay when I started writing this, I was at the beginning of Season 4 of Criminal Minds after a year long hiatus (aka didn’t have Disney+), so please excuse if it’s a bit out of character and that it doesn’t align with canon. No Haley and Jack. Let me know what you think!

Inspired by the song Maybe This Time by Sarah G and a line from Ugly Betty lol.

WC: 1428

>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<

>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<

The problem with having a constant is that you don’t realize how much it means to you until something threatens it to change it. 

You’re coming up to two years working at the prosecutor’s office, the feeling of helping people and solving cases is what fuels you. Though you admit, there are days where this isn’t enough to block out the misogynistic atmosphere of the office. In all honesty, you don’t think you would have lasted as long in such an environment if it weren’t for Aaron Hotchner.

What started as an academic rivalry turned into being inseparable. Nerds with an overwhelming drive to fix the world. It was actually Aaron who offered the olive branch - admitting that while the constant competition and pettiness helped him be the best self on paper, was straining his mental and physical well-being. Turns out you both have a lot in common - same taste in literature and surprisingly dead-pan humor. The man’s ability to drop unexpected one-liners is beyond you, only to be topped by his laugh albeit rare. 

A genuine Aaron Hotchner chuckle easily fills an entire room as if you’re floating on a cloud - a laugh that is quite the opposite to what he just left out.

“What?” 

“Yes! Can you believe it?” Aaron exclaims, releasing his hold on your shoulders. “There’s an opening at the Behavioural Analysis Unit - nothing permanent yet but they’re looking into a pool for the perfect candidate and I’ve been shortlisted!” 

~

The training program at the BAU lasted 3 months and in that span, the excitement during the first few weeks had you and Aaron in constant communication despite him being across the country in Quantico. But as the weeks went on, the calls dwindled until there were none at all.

You were proud of your best friend, you truly are - having found an advancement in his career. Though you can’t shake off the empty feeling in your chest. You catch your mind often thinking about him lately - more than a friend should.

What is happening to you?

Aaron has been more than grateful to have this opportunity. Working under the mentorship of the BAU founders, Aaron knew coming in that the cases would be grueling. He's barely gotten a good 8 hours of sleep since he’s arrived but the nightly calls with you updating about his day was the only thing keeping him on powering through, channeling back to your school rival days. Well, at least then he would get to see your face daily - now all he has is the photo he has in his wallet.

“Suck it, Hotchner! Bow down to your superior!” 

“Never!”

“Says the Magna Cum Laude to the Summa Cum Laude. Face it - it’s in writing for the world to see!” You teased, it was always a blast to have Aaron red.  There was no way you were gonna let this down and Aaron knew that - charging at you before you could finish.

“Y/N L/N is smarter than Aaron Hotch-NERRRRRRRR!” Aaron picking you up and spinning caught you by surprise - hands instinctively looping around his neck. 

Neither of you notice the clicking of a camera, too enclosed in your own little world. 

“You’re one lucky man.” The comment breaks Aaron from his trance. 

“Sir?”

“Your girlfriend, I notice you step out and look at it whenever you’re stressed” Rossi says matter of factly, patting Aaron’s shoulder. One doesn’t have to be a profiler to notice that yearning on Aaron’s face. “You know the job takes a toll on everyone and it’s rare to see the lightness after a while.”

Aaron didn’t know how to react, his stare continued even after his boss had left. Girlfriend. His brain had momentarily stopped working when he heard of the word. Someone had thought you were his girlfriend - he didn’t correct them, and it felt good. 

~

Ever since Rossi’s comment, Aaron has been teetering back and forth about his recent discovery about himself. Because that’s the thing about you being a constant in his life, he had grouped his feelings for you and categorized them under ‘best friend’, effectively blinding himself from the evolution of his feelings. 

How can he be a good profiler when he can’t even read his own emotions? Does she even feel the same way? 

But that’s not even the biggest elephant in the room.

“Congratulations!” Hugging him tightly, your next words are muffled by his chest. “I know you've wanted this for so long.” Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m so proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten it if you didn’t push me in sending my application.” Aaron’s hold on your waist tightens, not wanting to let you an inch away from him. Aaron has just gotten back from a 6-hour flight from Quantico, his body begging for rest but his heart aching for your presence. 

The longing of months apart running through his brain and the next thing he knows, his feet have taken him to your apartment at 2 in the morning instead.

“Aaron?” you called, breaking him from his trance. “What’s on your mind?”

Aaron could help but chuckle. Of course even when he showed up unannounced and woke you up in the dead of night. Your first concern was about him.

Coming from a strict family and being the oldest, having someone worry about him was uncommon. So when these moments arrive, it hits him with full force.

“Nothing…” He exhales, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear. Aaron hopes you don’t feel how shaky his hands are as he does so. 

You raise your brows at him.  Aaron might be a man of few words, but you’ve known him long enough to know when he is holding back.

He sighs, the room is quiet and any wrong move would break the balance. Aaron cups your cheek, glancing from your lips to your eyes. He steels himself to lay his discovery out in the open. “It’s just…you’re so captivatingly beautiful.”

Your eyes widen. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Aaron has called you pretty in the past, but there was an air of playfulness then compared to this whispered statement.

With the tension increasing ten-fold with each word. “These past few months, I was working at my dream job yet I couldn’t feel the best because you weren’t by my side.  Each night I looked forward to hearing your voice, whether it’s about how your day went or what you thought about the latest movie. And it killed me inside when the calls stopped…”

Aaron gulped, pausing to blink back tears that threaten to fall. 

Reaching up to grab his hand, you placed a kiss on his palm. Silently urging him to carry on and to say ‘me too’.

“I felt so guilty… then one day my boss caught me staring at a picture of us. He said that I was lucky to have a lovely girlfriend as an anchor to help in this grueling job and… I didn’t correct him.”

“You didn’t correct him?”

“I didn’t.” Aaron was now looking at his feet- embarrassed, mentally preparing for the rejection that was to come for letting his mind wander to the possibility of something more with you. He had crossed the line and placed his heart in your hands. “ At first I didn’t know how to react, you are my best friend, my constant support. But at that moment, everything became clearer.” Aaron confessed, however your response may be he will accept even if it would be the last ever time he gets to hold you in his arms. “Y/N. You’re my best friend, my constant support and I adore you.”

A beat passes as you process his words. 

“I’m sorry to spring this on you considering the circumstances. I understand if you want to keep a distance and not want to see me again.” Aaron steps back, takes one last look at you before turning to pick up his bag and leave. 

But as his hand reaches the doorknob, he is abruptly turned and pushed against the door. His gasp of pain is muffled by the crashing of your lips. Aaron drops his bag and instinctively pulls you closer. Air to breathe and the doorknob pocking his back be damned.

You were the first to pull away just enough that your lips brush each other’s. “I know you’re leaving in five months. And I know everyone’s gonna say it’s a big mistake. And I’m gonna get my heart broken but maybe it’s worth it.”

[hitechlatte]

Tattered Cloak Chapter 1 - Sneak Preview

This is still in progress, but I wanted to give you a sneak peek of the first chapter of my latest Donnie X Reader fic.

This is set in the same universe as Purple Hoodie and Prince Charming's Jacket, set a few years after the conclusion of PCJ.

I will note however this can be read as a stand alone (you'll see why MWAHAHA), with only some minor references to the prior fics.

Chapter 1 - Read More Below The Line:

“Fucking hell, do I need to rewrite this whole section?” 

Digging your elbows into the wood of your desk, you buried your face into your hands. The aching of your back mocked you as a long groan left your lips. 

After expending all the air from your lungs, you slowly leaned back in your chair, staring up at the cement of the ceiling. 

Your thoughts ran laps throughout your head, as you tried to recall every detail of the tale you were crafting. Yet no matter how hard you tried to wrangle your thoughts, the words jostled around your mind, still a jumbled tangled mess. 

Eventually your gaze returned to your monitor and with a sharp huff, you slammed your pointer finger against the backspace key.

The frantic cycle of typing and deleting the same 3 lines seemed to continue for ages, until a chipper voice caught your attention.

“Yo! Y/N!” 

A blur of purple whipped around you, eliciting a chuckle from your lips.

“Shelldon, what’s got you so giddy?”

Swirling to a stop in front of your chair, the bot buzzed with delight.

“Come on! I’ll show you!”

Slipping between your back and the chair, he pushed you forward. As you clumsily landed on your feet, Shelldon clutched onto your arm and tugged you towards the door.

“Alright alright!”

Exiting the door to your office, you hurriedly followed the bot through the lab. The monitors flashed around you as you and Shelldon darted past the piles of scrap metal and wires. Turning a corner the scent of stale coffee hit your nose. Several cups lined the edge of a working station, while another few laid precariously on a box.

With a slight chuckle, you turned your attention back towards Shelldon, trying to keep up with his rampant pace. 

Finally exiting the large metal doors of the lab, you appeared in the main foyer of the lair. Giggles and murmurs of chatter bounced off the walls, and you could see a large group congregating in the center of the room. Three of the turtle brothers and Cass stood next to April as she seemed to ramble on about something.

But as you stepped closer, it was the sight of the tall black haired man that caused you to yell in excitement.

“Casey!”

The man turned towards you and smirked back, giving you a wave. Jogging over, you pulled him into a tight hug and grinned.

“So glad you could make it.”

“Of course! Wouldn't miss it for the world.” He laughed, “Also if I did I think Raph would never let me hear the end of it.”

The eldest brother let out a laugh and placed a firm hand on Casey’s shoulder. 

“No. No I wouldn’t.”

The group all laughed for a moment, until Casey gave another confused look.

“Wait but where’s Donnie?”

“I’m guessing he’s out giving his hoverbike another test run.” You chuckled.

“You think?” Raph asked, brow raised.

“I don’t have a tracker on him.”

“Nah that’s more his thing.” April chuckled.

A few more laughs echoed out, until Raph spoke again.

“Aren’t you two getting married this weekend? Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be doing wedding things?”

“Listen we’re keeping it lowkey, or well Donnie low key, but you know your brother. He had an automation system programmed and tested 3 months ago for this thing. All I have left to do is go to my final fitting with Irma and practice my vows.”

“I guess.” Raph sighed, “Well so long as you guys are all set or whatever.”

“We should be happy they’re actually doing this!” Mikey smirked, “I was worried it was never gonna happen.”

“Yeah, speaking of which April you still owe me that sushi dinner.” Leo chuckled.

“For the last time, I’m not cashing in a bet from 3 years ago.” April groaned.

“Fine double or-”

“Would you two cut it out?” Raph groaned.

With that, another series of chuckles leapt out.

“Well dinner’s just about done.” Mikey smiled, “Y/N you want to go figure out where Donnie is and meet us in the kitchen?”

With a nod, you walked towards the entrance of the lair and clicked on your comm.

“Hey D, what’s your eta back?”

There was a full minute of silence before your comm chirped.

“Oh, sorry, about 10 minutes.” The voice called from your wristband, “I just need to run one more aim assist test and I can head back.”

Fluttering your eyes, you stared at your wrist puzzled.

“Aim assist?”

“Yes for my delivery service drone contract.”

“Delivery- wait when did you get that?”

“Like 3 weeks ago- oh wait… It’s possible I haven’t informed you of it yet.”

“Nah I guess not.” You chuckled.

“Well I’ll have plenty of details to ramble at you at a later time then. And then you can tell me all about what Derek and Shiloh are up to in your latest chapter.”

“Oh I um- I sent that manuscript out for review last week. I already started my new space travel book. I um... Guess I didn’t tell you.”

“Ah well excited to hear about it nonetheless.”

“Yeah, same here. Um, just make sure to get back quick. Casey’s here.”

“That’s today?!” Donnie exclaimed.

Yep.”

“Ugh, update eta to 5 minutes. I’ll be home shortly.”

“Safe travels.”

“Thanks.”

With a smirk, you headed back out to join the others.

When Donnie finally arrived in the kitchen, every eye turned towards him.

“It’s our long lost brother!” Leo exclaimed.

Leaping from his seat, the blue brother wrapped his arms around Donnie, lifting him slightly off the ground.

“By golly brother I never thought I’d see you again!” Leo said in a poorly mimicked southern accent, “I never thought you’d make it home from the war!”

Donnie wriggled in his brother’s grip.

“Leo I was just- why are you like this?”

Before Leo could respond, Raph butted in.

“Maybe if he saw ya more than once a month there wouldn’t be a need for theatrics. Now eat ya ‘za, it's getting cold.”

“Whatever.” Donnie said rolling his eyes,

As dinner progressed, the group threw question after question at Casey, asking about his travel and what he had been up to during his latest travel excursion. However as he was telling some story, a voice echoed from the entrance of the kitchen.

“Hey everyone! I’m back!”

“Irma!” You exclaimed, “I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow!” 

“I got an earlier flight.” She giggled, “Besides it's your big day, so we need to get up to shenanigans or whatever. It’s my duty as your maid of honor.”

“You’re so sweet-”

However Irma was lifted up off the ground as the red turtle scooped her up.

“I missed you boo-boo bear.” He smiled.

“Raph!” Irma blushed madly, “I was only gone a week!” 

“Yeah but I get worried when you go on your big scary missions and what if something happened?”

Irma rolled her eyes as she tried calming the eldest brother down.

And with a chuckle, you headed back to your own seat and plopped down next to Donnie.

“We’re not gonna get like that right?” You grinned.

Donnie shook his head.

“By Einstein's beard no.”

The rest of dinner went smoothly as everyone went into the foyer to watch a film.

“We should watch something romantic to commemorate the week.” Irma giggled as Raph filtered through the movie choices.

“Enchanted’s cute!” Mikey called out.

“Or Princess Bride?” Shelldon suggested.

“Die Hard!” Cass shouted.

“Well Lou Jitsu and the Radiant Samurai is a good one” Splinter chuckled

As Raph and Irma debated between choices, Casey turned to Leo and Mikey.

“Hey when are Usagi and Peace Corp getting here?”

“How does that name keep sticking?” Mikey yelled, “They have a name you know and it’s-”

“Peace Corp, we know.” Leo grinned.

Eventually the teasing ceased and the movie The Holiday was selected. You leaned against Donnie’s side as the film played on the screen. But just as the plot was beginning to pick up, you fell asleep.

You awoke later to a blanket wrapped around you and the pillows next to you, empty.

And looking around it seems most of the group had broken off, only leaving April, Casey, Cass and Mikey.

Rubbing your eyes, you saw a dark forest with a fairy and some bug-like man flying around on screen while singing a cover of some pop song. After a moment, you figured out they must have put on that movie Strange Magic. With a yawn, you stretched and slowly stood up.

“I’m off to bed.” You chuckled.

The rest of the group waved as you headed out of the room.

When you returned to the lab, you found Donnie deep in some code. 

“Grinding the late night oil?” You laughed.

“Uh-huh.” He seemed to murmur.

“You …going to bed soon?”

However the turtle just grunted back.

“Come on.” You grinned, “I think it’s time we both called it a night.”

And after a groggy nod and a sleepy kiss, the two of you headed off to bed.

The next morning, you woke to Donnie sprawled across the bed. One of his legs was thrown over your thighs, while one of his arms hung off the bed. With a roll of your eyes, you gently slipped out from underneath him and tucked him more firmly onto the mattress.

He seemed to murmur something, but you just whispered back at him.

“Go back to sleep, I'll make coffee.”

He grunted as he buried himself back into the pillows.

After checking some emails from your publisher and agent, you headed back to make some coffee. The grinder whirled around as the beans shredded against the blades. And with a steady hand, you gently pressed the grounds into the espresso machine cup. The smell of coffee filled your nostrils as the liquid seeped down slowly into your mug.

However as you began to work on the second cup, a noise caught your attention. There in the doorway stood Casey.

“Morning!” You smiled, “Coffee?”

“Sure.” Casey grinned.

“Sleep well?” You asked as you pulled out another mug.

“Yeah I did. It’s nice to be back.”

“We’re glad to have you back.”

“Oh.” Casey said as he seemed to recall something, “April told me a bunch of us might get lunch later today. You and Donnie coming?”

“Oh cool! Let me check what time my meetings are, and if I can, I definitely will. No idea on Donnie though, but I can ask him when I bring him his coffee.”

Casey stared for a moment, almost lost in thought and then a chuckle left his lips.

“You um… man timelines are weird.”

Placing the cup down gently, you turned back to Casey with a confused look across your face.

“Oh sorry I just…” Casey spoke slowly, “It’s weird. You’re like so different from my timeline. But also, not?”

You kept your expression soft. Casey would occasionally speak of his original timeline, but never too in depth. Just general overarching details.

“Oh really?” You gently pressed.

Casey seemed to turn his gaze away and the panic welled up in your stomach.

“Hey, you okay? I’m sorry if I-”

“No it’s not you.” Casey sighed, “I just. I guess… I should have given this to you a long time ago. But I feel like now's a good time.”

Casey tapped on his armband and the screen flipped up. Pressing his finger against a slot, a small USB appeared. Pulling out the rectangular chip, he walked closer to you and placed it gently in your hand.

“You… you wrote this.” Casey breathed out slowly, “It was like your memoir or I guess… like a diary.”

“My… diary?” 

“Yeah I- um. It helps me remember the old times. You talk about me a lot.” He chuckled.

“I- thank you, but why- Are there others?”

“No. Just yours. You were the only one who ever wrote one. Well Donnie had some audio logs, but they were never personal. Just analytics and shit. But I think you should read it.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” You nodded.

Casey nodded back. 

After gently handing him his coffee, the man disappeared back into the lair.

You stood for a moment, staring at the little chip in your hand. But with a quick tuck, you stuffed it in your pocket and finished making Donnie’s coffee.

When you returned with the purple turtle’s coffee, he was still out cold, bundled up in the blankets and pillows. You left his drink on his nightstand and after a quick kiss on his head, returned to your office. 

When you sat at your desk chair, you just watched the steam from your mug flicker into the air. A million thoughts buzzed around your head as you stuck your hand in your pocket and slowly pulled out the USB.

And with a nervous huff, plugged the chip into your computer.

A green page appeared on screen, with bundles of words clumped together.

I know no one will probably ever read this. Well except maybe Shelldon or Casey(skip past the marked sections by the way you two), but I want a place to write everything down. Out of all the stories I’ve ever written, I think it’s time I finally wrote mine.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i tell my thesis coordinator, about one of my groupmates lack of comitment?

I want to start saying english is not my first language, and give some over all info. I am writing this on the 28th of November, 2023, a Tuesday. I am a Game Design major.

Ok, so i am doing my thesis work, and for what we thought it was going super well!

We have 5 members in our group, me, the game designer, 2 artist (M and B) and 2 programers (A and P).

As I said I thought things were going fine, we had a dead line for monday, yesterday as I am writing this, and we planned to have everything done by Sunday, with monday being a playtest by 3 people or so.

Both artists had all tasks done by wednesday and friday, and both were helping me with formating the big game design document 194 pages long baby! Wich got done by saturday night. However, I got informed by P that there were some issues with the code for the game, and they were gonna try and fix it by monday afternoon. It comes monday and i try and talk to both programers to get info on the game, and A tells me he can't talk cuse he is to busy and that he needs me to write the conclusion of our thesis paper. I found it weird that he asked me that now, since he said the writing was done on June! I believed that we only had to add some in game screenshots, but I write it the conclusion without any arguments.

Anyway, me and the other 2 artists get in a call to check the prsentation slides, and M says she has something important to talk about. B joins and the truth comes out. M explains that A has been doing another persons thesis coding work, not helping, but doing it entirely! We were super surprised and she asks us to not tell anyone else, and says this has been going on for a while, and she did confront A about it a week back, and he promissed he wasn't gonna work on the other guys project. Turns out he did work on it mutiple times, and even filmed the walktrough of the game for the guy. As I am writing this, A has told her he was working on this today.

Before we continue with this mess, I want to explain how M has found this out. A few months back A did tell her he was helping this other guy out with the code, he is a good programer and this dude is doing the thesis by himself, so she didn't think much of it, but a few weeks back, when she was asking A to implement some assets she had finished, he said he was to busy with Guy's project to do it. At this point she realised how much he was involved, and let me tell you, M knows how to extract information, she now knows A is also being PAID for it, he guy owns 500 bucks to A from what I gathered, besides what has alredy been paid. ANYWAYS let's get back to this mess.

I was so tired I couldn't even really react, and just did what I had to do that day, by this point I gathered we wouldn't be able to do the playtest, and write the thesis conclusion acordingly. Around 10 PM the programers tell me the game still has a few glitches but they have uploaded it to the google drive, and i do a one over and send in the file for avaluation.

I spent today mostly relaxing, reading and watching some videos, but around 7pm i am consumed by the anger and betrayel i couldn't feel yesterday, and I talk to B about what happened

We agreed we had to confront M about the situation, and since me and B were not supposed to know about it, she had to talk to A. She said she alredy did, and told us that A was planing on talking to everyone on the next meeting (tomorrow), however, i argue that P needs to know beforehand, since this situation is horrible and he could lash out if A just dropped this on him, us 3 agree and invite P to the group.

Turns out A has told P about it today, but he was so tired from the past few days, he had no energy to react.

We talked a lot, and we agreed we need to talk to our coordinator about this hole mess, wich is probably gonna happen the following days.

So, WIBTA for airing this mess?

What are these acronyms?

[captainsophiestark]

Vigilante Book Club Part 3

Jason Todd x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 - Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober, and for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Day Four Prompt: "No, we're not doing that."

Summary: Jason and his new SO have their official first date.

Word Count: 2,216

Category: Fluff

A/N: Shoutout to @v1ckycheesue for commenting about wanting to see the date! I wasn't sure I was going to come back to this idea, but something just popped into my head, so now we're here :) No promises, but there might also be a part 4 at some point on the horizon!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I stepped out of my building with a smile, waving as soon as I caught sight of Jason on his motorcycle, waiting for me right where he said he'd be. After months of friendship and forming a mini book club with the Red Hood, earlier this week, I'd learned his secret identity thanks to a phone call from one of his brothers. Thankfully, Jason didn't mind, and even better, it had led to Jason asking me out on a date. He'd had a bit of a family situation to attend to earlier, but tonight was the night, and having him meet me outside my apartment on his motorcycle was certainly a good start.

"Hey!" I called once I was close enough. "How did the family dinner disaster go?"

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It went great, once I got there and kicked everyone else out of the kitchen. Somewhere between five and ten of us regularly attending family events and somehow I'm still the only one who knows how to cook."

I grinned. "Well, from personal experience, I can attest that you are an excellent chef."

"Thanks, babe," he said, huffing a laugh as I finally reached him. He held out one arm for a hug, and I stepped into him, wrapping both my arms around his shoulders as he sat on his bike. He brought his other hand up to rest on my hip, giving it a light squeeze before moving me a step back from him. "You look great."

"Thanks! You do too. So... are you gonna tell me what we're doing tonight?"

"Not yet," he said with a grin. "I still want our first stop to be a surprise. But you do need one more thing before we go."

I raised an eyebrow as Jason turned around on the bike, digging into one of the side bags before turning back to me with a bright red helmet in hand.

"Here, let me help you get it on."

I smiled, Jason helping me pull the helmet down over my head before holding either side of it, giving it a little shake to make sure it fit snugly. He grabbed the part right in front of my mouth and ran his finger across it, giving me a satisfied smile.

"Looks good. Go ahead and hop on, and we can get out of here."

I climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping my arms tightly around Jason's waist as he pulled his own red helmet on over his head. It wasn't the same as his Red Hood helmet, but it did look pretty similar. I grinned, even though Jason couldn't see me.

"You ready sweetheart?" he asked, his voice crackling over an in-helmet comms system. I nodded, then realized how unhelpful that was.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Although I do have a question."

"What's that?" Jason asked. He started the bike as he spoke, the engine roaring beneath us.

"As somebody trying to maintain a secret identity, don't you think it's a little conspicuous that you've got a motorcycle helmet the exact same color as your vigilatne helmet? And almost the same style?"

I heard Jason huff a laugh, and his response took a few moments to come through the radio. Part of that might've been Jason trying to focus while he merged with traffic, but he'd never be able to convince me that was the entire reason.

"Nobody's figured it out yet," he finally said. Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Well, there you go, I guess. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you that nobody in Gotham suddenly becomes observant. You know, I could repaint your helmet in some sparkly colors for you, maybe put some stickers on it that say 'NOT Red Hood', help you keep your secret. We could make it a date night."

Jason snorted. "No, we're not doing that."

"Your loss babe."

I held tight to Jason as we swept through the city streets, looking over his shoulder and trying to figure out exactly where we were headed. I didn't put it together until we turned a corner and pulled into the parking lot for my absolute favorite bookstore in the city.

I gasped, and I heard Jason chuckle over the radio.

"I take it you're excited?"

"Jason, I got nothing but green flags from you from the moment you brought my favorite book back to me, but I cannot begin to tell you how amazing this surprise is. This is my dream date."

Jason chuckled again, pulling the bike into a spot near the front as he responded.

"I'm glad a bookstore date's as exciting to you as it is to me."

"Oh my god, you have no idea. You are actually a dream come true."

"Right back at you, sweetheart."

With that, he stepped off the bike and pulled his helmet off, taking mine from me a moment later when I did the same. I had a beaming smile on my face that I couldn't wipe off if I tried, and as soon as he saw it, Jason smiled too.

"Alright, I'll never be the one to put limits on getting books, but let me tell you what I was thinking for tonight," he said, taking my hand and helping me off the bike. We started walking to the front doors together, shoulder to shoulder and hands held tight. "I was thinking we each pick a book, ideally one the other person hasn't read before. Then we do an exchange and read the books the other person picked out for us."

Jason looked at me as we came to a stop just inside the bookstore, apparently waiting for my reaction. Like he hadn't just said something out of a romance novel.

I leaned up to kiss his cheek, squeezing his hand as I did. When I pulled back with a smile, Jason had one eyebrow raised.

"That sounds absolutely perfect," I said, and a minute later his face broke out in a wide grin.

"Okay, good. I'll go get your book, you go get mine. Whoever's done first finds the other."

"Deal. Let's do this."

Jason and I headed off in different directions, hunting through the bookstore for just the right book. A few weeks ago, he'd told me he'd never read Dracula, one of my favorite books and a classic that seemed right up his alley. We'd talked about reading it together for our informal book club, but we hadn't done it yet, and I couldn't think of a better book to get him for our date.

Unfortunately, we were in a bookstore, so I had to make a few detours on my way to my goal. I ended up with a small stack in my arms by the time I finally made it to Dracula, and I chewed my lip in thought as I stood betwen the stacks. What if he didn't have room for us to put these on the bike? What if we were going somewhere after this where the books would be a problem? I rarely managed to walk into a bookstore and walk out with nothing more than what I'd gone for, but maybe I could just take picture of the other titles with my phone-

"There you are."

I turned to see Jason behind me, a stack of books in his own arms. I grinned.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who made a few pitstops on my way to the date book," I said. Jason scoffed.

"Of course not. I don't trust people who can easily avoid detours in bookstores."

"Neither do I. It's for sure a red flag."

"Well, I'm glad we both passed the test," he said, grinning again. "Now come on, you ready? I think it's time for the next part of our date."

"I'll follow you."

Jason and I checked out with both our stacks of books, which he carefully loaded into one of the bags on his motorcycle. It was a tight fit, but he managed to make everything work without any of the books being at risk of bent pages. The other bag remained conspicuously closed, and I raised an eyebrow at him as he helped me get my helmet on again.

"Is there a reason you didn't split the books between both bags?"

"Yeah."

"...And that reason would be?"

"A surprise." He grinned. "Come on, you'll know in a minute. It's not too far of a drive from here."

I climbed on the back of the bike behind Jason, holding onto him tight as we wound through the city streets. Before long, we were leaving the traffic behind, turning onto narrower and narrower tree-lined roads climbing up one of the mountains outside of the city.

"This is a pretty murder-y date spot, just so you know," I said over our comms. I felt Jason's chest rise and fall with a laugh under my hands the same time it came crackling over the radio.

"Are you trying to warn me about something, sweetheart?"

I shrugged. "I mean, you're the Red Hood. I think we're both probably pretty safe."

He huffed another laugh, taking one hand briefly off the handlebars to squeeze mine. I wrapped my arms around him a little tighter, and after a few more minutes of riding on darkened trails, we came out on top of one of the tallest hills. Jason parked the bike, then hopped off and offered a hand to help me. We both knew I didn't need it, but I took it anyway.

"Alright, this is one of my favorite spots in the whole city," Jason said, tucking both our helmets away before opening the tank bag that didn't have books in it. He pulled out a basket with one hand, then grabbed mine again with the other.

I followed him to the treeline, until we reached a ledge overlooking the city. I stopped short, letting out a little gasp. I'd never seen it from a vantage point like this before. All the lights sparkled like stars, while the forest around us was perfectly peaceful.

"Wow," I breathed. "Jay... this place is amazing."

"I know. And even better, none of my siblings know how to find it."

I laughed, watching as Jason took out a blanket and unfolded it, then started setting up the rest of an evening picnic.

"You know, I'd actually really like to meet your siblings."

"Oh don't worry, you will. They've been wondering for a while now who I've been meeting up with regularly. They're all nosy motherfuckers, they'll probably show up in disguise to crash our next date."

"...Is it weird that I'm kind of excited for that?"

"Yes. Extremely."

I just laughed again, moving to join Jason on the picnic blanket he'd set up for us. I sighed and leaned into him as he wrapped one arm around my shoulders.

"I have to say, this might be the best date I've ever been on. Buying each other books and a romantic picnic overlooking the city? That's impossible to beat," I said.

"That was my goal," he said, pulling me closer with a grin. "I'm glad I succeeded. Now come on, I don't want this food I packed going to waste."

Jason and I dug into the picnic, which was packed full of our favorite foods. We laughed and talked the night away, perfectly comfortable, just the two of us. It was technically our first date, but we'd been spending our nights together for long enough that a peaceful, romantic night together seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

"Jason, that was amazing," I sighed, leaning into him once we'd finished dinner. He leaned back on his hands, and I curled into his side.

"Yeah. It was. You know, I'm really glad that guy stole your favorite book."

"I guess that's one way to say you're glad you met me."

Jason grinned and leaned in to kiss my temple. "You get me."

I sighed, and the two of us just sat there together for a while, curled up on the blanket and looking out at the city. Finally, I sighed.

"So... what would you think if I proposed a finale for this date?"

"That depends. Is this a subtle way of telling me you're ready for the date to be over?"

"No! I just had an idea I think you'll like, and I want to pull my weight a little on making this the most magical evening ever."

"Oh yeah?" Jason asked, sitting up and moving me with him. I turned to face him, a giant smile on my face as his hands wandered to my waist. "And what might that idea be?"

"I was thinking we could go back to my place..."

"I'm with you so far."

"And then I was thinking we could make some tea and curl up on the couch and read the books we got for each other."

Jason grinned, putting one hand at the nape of my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. I smiled into it, leaning forward and resting my hands on his chest as Jason deepened it. When he finally pulled back, I was breathing hard.

"That sounds fucking perfect. You're literally my dream date, let's go."

I laughed, especially as Jason packed up our picnic with record speed, then took my hand and nearly dragged me back towards the bike. The two of us laughed the whole ride to my apartment, only to cuddle close on the couch while we started reading hand-picked books together. It was definitely too early to call, but I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my nights just like this.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos

[theweirdwideweb]

I reported my boss to HR for discrimination last week. Please tell me if I'm crazy.

My old boss got promoted so around October I got a new supervisor. We've been coworkers for about 5 years and had a friendly relationship. I'd been to her house, met her kids, we chit chatted a lot. When she started approving my time cards she noticed I was using about 3-5 hours of PTO per week at random times. I explained this was an informal arrangement I had with my previous supervisor due to my disability. I have C-PTSD and ADHD which honestly make it difficult to get through the day pretty much every day. Sometimes I need more breaks and if I'm using my PTO and being honest, who cares right? Well the new supervisor cared. She told me that if I couldn't be a full time employee they couldn't justify our headcount and my job was on the line unless I made this a formal arrangement. I was really hurt but I did it, I got all the doctors notes together and figured--while I'm formalizing it, I actually do need extra therapy so I'm gonna make my FMLA (family medical leave act) time include these sessions.

All this is approved obviously because one thing I'm not is self diagnosed. I've got medical records a mile high. So starting in January this official leave time goes into effect and I can use up to 7 hours of PTO per week. Before all this began my supervisor consistently praised me as a "rockstar" employee, saying I was the only person on the team who truly follows the rules. In general I was thought of as an excellent worker and had received a promotion. The team that I lead smashed our goals for 2023. But, strangely, once I start the FMLA my supervisor begins complaining about my lack of productivity. I kept a spreadsheet as a tool for my ADHD where I tracked how I was spending my time so I volunteered to let her see it so she could figure it out. Instead of sending the spreadsheet tracking my work in 5 minute increments once or twice, this woman has had me sending it every week for the past 7 months. Every Monday we have our 1:1 and she lets me know how poorly I'm doing. She also sends me an email on Mondays where she counts every email I have in my inbox, every claim I have across multiple programs, every minute of meetings I have scheduled and sends me the amount of time she expects it to take and if I don't make it then we have to talk about my "problems".

Now I'm practically never making it. I've appealed to her and to her boss so many times that there is something wrong with this formula they've come up with to calculate my workload--and they both just think I'm lying. Long story short in May I started measuring my time not on the spreadsheet but by the individual tasks in the email and not only am I keeping up, but there's a full 5-6 hours of work every week that she hasn't been counting (including 3 hours talking on the phone---with her!). I bring this up at our 1:1 in late May and say, See there really is something wrong with your measurement. I'm right on track productivity wise with these tasks. She doesn't acknowledge at all the flaw I've found in her formula but DOES say, "I do think there's been an improvement in your productivity and I expect it will continue to improve as you get more therapy." Full on MASK OFF. So my "productivity issues" are improved by therapy, meaning she's been ascribing those issues to my disability. Incredible.

I go to HR the next day to have this interaction on the record. First time I've gone to HR about anything ever. They are so concerned that they are going to launch an investigation and I tearfully plead with them not to because my boss's boss is out on medical leave and I don't want to cause huge problems while she's away and can't moderate. I didn't realize it would automatically cause an investigation to report this. The lady takes pity on me and says they won't investigate for now.

The VERY NEXT DAY my supervisor tells us in a team meeting (other people there to witness) that she's got a funny story about her son. It's some innocent story about how he's grounded and can't go to a party, but she continues on by talking about how she has to be extra strict with him because he has ADHD. If she doesn't enforce consequences, he'll never learn! And he has to learn because when he grows up his boss isn't going to take his ADHD as an excuse. "Policies are policies" she said, "Your boss isn't going to accept an answer like I know I was supposed to do four things but I only got to three because...." She even went further talking about how he's having trouble learning to drive because of his ADHD and just laughing about it. When he has to do something, she says, she has to remind him multiple times and set timers and double check with him otherwise he'll forget.

So I'm fucking flabbergasted at this point, right? This whole time I've been feeling like this time tracking is discriminatory and here she is just spelling it out for me in neon letters: YES, IT ACTUALLY IS. So I'm biding my time until her boss gets back from medical leave. But after 3 weeks of showing her that her method is flawed she tells me I don't have to do the spreadsheet anymore. Her boss is back but cancelled our first meeting, so I figure: If the bullshit stops, for the sake of my career and mental health I'm gonna let this go. My supervisor goes on vacation for 2 weeks. I'm doing my work exactly as I want to without the added pressure and everything is going great.

Once she gets back though we have our 1:1 and she asks me where my emails were on the 2 past Fridays telling her if I got all my work done. Which she never asked me to do, btw. Reader---I mcfreakin lost it. I belligerently asked why this was still necessary, that I felt picked on and bullied, that she isn't doing this to anyone else on the team, and that I'm sick and tired of constantly being demoralized by her leadership. I told her that I was going to talk to her boss directly about this situation. She was pissed. She actually unfriended me on facebook which for middle aged women is like throwing a grenade.

Next day I talk to her boss. I bring my evidence because of course I've been taking notes. The situation is serious. HR has become involved. And just because there are anti-retaliatory rules for reporting protected concerns doesn't actually protect me from getting fired. Suddenly I'm fearful about everything. I'm afraid I'm going to lose my job and my health insurance, bye bye therapy,, bye bye surgery I need. I've been at this job 6 years and the animosity is at an all time high. Christ almighty.

[tyler-t0t]

Crowns and Secrets

Established Wanda x Vision, cheating, sub!Wanda x dom!reader, reader w/ pen!s, no gendered pronouns, spanking, unprotected s3x, p in v, daddy kink, cream pie, implied impreg

Word count: 1.9k

--------------------------‐---------------------------------------

Wanda had never really loved Vision. To be honest, she doesn't know how she ended up dating the android, but they've been together for 3 months. She found herself sitting on his couch watching an old war documentary even though Wanda tried convincing him to watch a RomCom or an animal documentary. He claimed those programs were, "boring and overly staged," despite knowing they were Wanda's favorite.

Bored of the droning war documentary, Wanda pulls out her phone to scroll her various social media feeds. Upon opening one particular app, she sees that you've sent her several posts. Wanda shifts on Vision's couch to subtly turn her phone away from him, although he's more focused on the documentary than the woman sitting in his couch.

She taps the icon to open your app conversation to see a series of 7 rather lewd posts. Some are detailed fantasies while others are images of doms and subs in compromising positions. She subconsciously bites her bottom lip as she takes in the posts before her, feeling the all too familiar heat grow between her legs.

Just as Wanda was about to set her phone down, she feels her phone vibrate, alerting her to a new text message. Eager to talk to you, she wastes no time in opening up the new message, only to be met with 2 words: "come here" followed by a photo of a black metal crown on the foot of your bed.

The brunette sputters a little, knowing exactly what that crown meant. She stands and starts gathering her things. A simple, "I need to get home" all she says to the android as she strides out the door. Once inside her cozy SUV, Wanda's speeding off to your house, roughly 5 miles away. After parking in your driveway, she takes a moment to look herself over in the rear-view mirror.

She steps out of her car and smoothes out the crimson skirt she'd decided to wear, opting to leave her jacket in the car as well. When Wanda gets to the door of your home, she pauses, giving herself a moment to prepare for whatever you have planned. She pushes the door open to find the house in almost complete darkness, the only light coming from a candle set in the center of the entryway. On the table, beside the candle, is a note that reads, "as true as her beauty, the princess remains loyal to the crown."

You've always been a bit cinematic when it came to Wanda, but you knew how much she loved the sappy romance stuff, even amongst the filthiest of nights. You had built a simple wooden throne, even applying the upholstery yourself, shortly after your hookups with Wanda started, so you had a chair for your little witch to worship you on. That throne is where she found you, sat in the living room waiting for your little witch to come running at your call.

Wanda stood in the living room doorway like a deer in headlights as she took in your intimidating presence: dressed in black slacks and a black dress shirt with the top buttons left undone to reveal your heaving chest. Your hair is neatly done with your shimmering black crown, and your cold gaze is blown black with lust. You absolutely loved the particular skirt Wanda had worn because it hugged the swell of her full ass and thick thighs. Just the sight of her in that skirt had your cock jumping in your pants.

You calmly place your hand on your clothed erection and as you give it a long, heavy stroke, you tease her out of her trance: "you gonna stand there, little doe, or you gonna come do something about it?"

The bashful little brunette steps forward and sinks to her knees. She eyes your erection as she licks her lips before looking up at you through her lashes. She keeps her gaze steady with yours as her hands release the buckle of your belt. Her nimble fingers slip the button of your slacks open before she slowly slides her hands along your thighs with a mischievous grin. With a sudden surge of boldness, the young witch leans forward and takes the zipper in her teeth, slowly undoing your pants as she sits back up. The sight of her using her teeth has you releasing a deep groan as your cock twitches in anticipation.

With your slacks now out of her way, Wanda brings a ringed hand up to stroke your thick cock. After only a few strokes she sees a wet patch forming in the fabric of your boxers. Needing to taste you, she leans in without hesitation, and starts leaving open mouthed kisses along your clothed cock. The sensations leave you craving more.

"Enough teasing, Doll. Do it properly."

She looks up through her lashes once again, giving you an irresistible doe eyed look, as she gently removes your throbbing length from the confines of your boxers. At the release of pressure, you breathe an airy sigh that quickly distorts to a guttural moan as Wanda wraps her warm, lush lips around your cock. Having had many nights snuck off to your place, Wanda's become familiar with the way you love her tongue running along the slit of your cockhead. The way her mouth expertly works over every inch and ridge has your head thrown back in bliss, which only increases as she moans around your girth.

You gently weave your hand in her hair, gripping the base of her ponytail, and start guiding her head up and down your shaft. It doesn't take long before you're shoving your entire length down her throat, her throat fluttering as she chokes around you. Tears flow down her cheeks, but you gently cup her face and use your thumb to wipe away the tears. Finally, you allow your little witch to come up and breathe. You silently watch as she gasps for air, her own drool dripping over her large chest. As her breathing gains a rhythm once more, you lean back in your chair. She eagerly jumps to her feet, slipping her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt before you stop her.

She pauses, giving a curious look as she slowly pulls her hands away from her skirt. You smirk at her obedience and give your lap a quick pat. Catching on, she giggles and straddles your lap. As she lowers herself you slide your hands up her thighs, under her skirt, to find no panties. At your discovery, you chuckle. She'd normally be shy and flustered, but there's something different tonight. She doesn't feel the need to be reserved, so she let's her need take over and grinds her bare pussy along your length. At the friction, you both release a long moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me," you chuckle, grabbing at her soft hips and guiding her motions. Under the grasp of your strong hands, Wanda leans back while she grinds, allowing her hands to delicately trail up her torso, taking her shirt with them. She cups and squeezes at her large breasts as moans spill from her lips. She's putting a show on for you, and you enjoy every bit of it. As she rubs herself along your length, you decide to slip two fingers into her mouth, which she sloppily sucks on with vigor.

Your ringed hand is coated in her warm saliva and your cock is dripping, just keening to go where it belongs. With your hands both firmly on Wanda's hips, you lift her up as if she were nothing, allowing your cock to line up with her drenched enterance. As you bring her back down, your cock sinks into her wet sex. She whines as your girth splits her open, which quickly turns to a screamed out moan as your bulbos tip bumps her cervix. Once at the hilt you both pause, panting for air as you reground yourselves.

The brunette hardly has time to breathe before you're thrusting up into her, each vein on your cock dragging along her silk walls. Finally, she grips the back of your throne and starts bouncing on your cock. Each one of her downward thrusts met with an upward one of yours to drive you as deep as possible. The constant abuse at her cervix has Wanda quickly approaching her peak. As her whines get higher in pitch, you lean forward to kiss along her collar bone. Each contact of your lips sends shivers down her spine until, finally, you bite at her pulse point.

Her delicate fingers weave into your now messy locks, pulling your face against her hot flesh as her body convulses. Her back arches as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm. With your head pressed against her neck, you have no choice but to continue your assault on the soft skin. Once she's again able to form words, she's chanting in your ear, begging you to cum for she can feel your cock violently throbbing inside her sensitive pussy.

The thought of finally getting to cum inside her makes you feral. She'd always made you pull out so neither of you get caught.

With the new allowance, your arms restrict around her midsection, effectively pinning her petite frame against your chest as your hips piston with new found fire. Your renewed vigor brings about a whole other round of screams from the overstimulated witch. With her pinned to your chest, you easily start a trail of hickies across her bare chest. Releasing her chest with a pop, you groan, "bout to cum, baby. Fuck you feel so good." At your words, Wanda clenches around you, drawing a long, deep moan from your chest.

Noticing how you reacted, she intentionally clenches down even harder, begging, "please please, Daddy fill me up. Need your cum, Daddyyy." Your hips falter a moment, shock hitting you like a wall. "What'd you call me, Darling?" You question with a dark tone. Embarrassed, the young witch shakes her head. Your hand comes down on her ass with a harsh slap. "Say it again. Fuck, say it again, Princess." Drunk off your new title, you slam her hips down on your hard cock at the same time your rigid teeth sink into the soft flesh of her collarbone.

That final thrust forces the tip of your cock to slip past her abused cervix. The new pressure on your cock sends you growling as you paint her insides white. The screamed out moan that rips from her chest is borderline inhuman as she crashes through the most powerful orgasm of her life. Her clamped walls force your hips to a standstill, milking every drop you have.

As you both come back to reality, Wanda slumps against your shoulder, her body still shuddering from the intense aftershocks and her breathing ragged. You smile and rub her back soothingly, muttering praise and compliments. Finally, Wanda's eyes meet yours, but your gaze quickly dart to the dark trail of marks you've left on her. "Well, fuck. Gonna have a hard time covering those up. I'm sorry, princess." She giggles and gently puts a finger to your lips. "I'm done hiding. Let him see, so he realizes he didn't treat me how I needed." Your expression softens, a loving smile spreading across your features. "Besides, I have a feeling there'll be bigger conciquences to our night," she adds as she gently guides your hand over her stomach.

[sevenpoyo]

school headcanons for because i only got 3 more weeks

margo’s is so long even tho she got like 2 minutes of screen time bc i love her so much and she’s my gf

Margo Kess, 1610Miles, 42Miles, Gwen Stacy, Pavitr Prabhakar

margo kess / spiderbyte

ain’t shorty on zoom in the movie?

my girl dont attend class, she once shut down the entire blocks power so she would have an excuse to not be in class

eats in class all class everyday, only shares with you

takes really good notes and never studies them

like???? ma’am??? share???

all her electives are programming related and she pretends to busy while playing centipede all day

sends you 50 links to stuff you might like while ur in math

she got papers that let her opt out of gym

no matter how much you beg ur gonna be alone in gym and she doesn’t feel bad about it

popular with no friends type

like everyday 50 ppl stop you both and say hi

she only knows like 5 of their names she can’t stand half of them niggas

empty ass backpack like she got one notebook and one binder

all a’s and b’s like bitch how

her memory is absolutely ass but she can remember every story you told her or stuff that happened when y’all hang out

don’t ask her what she did in her class

don’t ask her if her class also has a history test

she don’t know

she don’t care

but she do know that when you were 8 your cousin burned ur thigh while y’all were playing iron vs knife fight

(u were dumb as hell for picking knife everyone knows iron always wins)

i looked it up on her word everybody uses those virtual avatars

she’ll shit on your class choices so damn hard

she just likes making fun of your choices fr

like half of ur conversation go;

damn i’m tired

u was up doing stupid shit last night you don’t get to complain

stfu that’s why ur a bitmoji

that’s why ur granny beat ur ass for something your brother did when you were 9

i hate telling u shit

then stop telling me shit

(i have no clue how accurate this is to her character but i need to write about her i’m in love but damn it’s long)

1610 miles / spider-man 2 lmao

book bag full locker full but never has a pencil

writes notes assignments and homework in paint pen ink don’t ask this nigga for notes

(he gets nigga treatment but not my queen margo bc i got favorites)

he miss mad classes but somehow still solid attendance record???

somehow always present in the record he miss 40 days and get caught on like 6 of them

unless his mom make breakfast and lunch on her day off for him he eating the most random shit from the bodega closest to visions

like what do you mean you got a cosmic brownie and a cold chopped cheese from last night ? it’s literally 7 in the morning no i don’t want none

makes you hype him up every time he slap boxes people and he’s so ass at it

he be ashy with no lotion atleast 5 times every month it’s embarrassing

he calls visions his white people school to his parents and his friends

once he said it to gwen and they sat in literal complete silence for like 10 minutes

prolly took music theory because he thought it would be easy and switched out of that shit so fast

i’d be so mean to him for enjoying physics

like this nigga trying to make something of him self

lil einstein ass nigga

he understands color theory but can’t explain it

12 half full sketchbooks but at school he literally draw on computer paper he don’t let the sketch book leave his bag

i know he’s ass at watercolor, he always spills shit, the colors always end up brown

try’s to be interested in your class choices bc he wants to know stuff he can talk about with you

when you first meet he can’t take meaner jokes bc he thinks that you mean them

but one day he’s gets comfortable, and brutal

no one in your life is safe when he looses a video game

except your mom

rio taught him better than that

42 miles / the prowler

comes to school with no school related supplies in his bag unless you count art stuff

finds a pencil on his way to class

has a change of clothes, rat tail comb, 3 bottles of water, a camera, a flashlight, lotion and cocoa butter.

like bro ur going to Ap Art not a camping trip

once he pulled out a griddle and and pancake mix and y’all started making pancakes in class

forgets his metro pass every day and gets so pissed ab it

runs into people in the hallway bc he’s never paying attention

idk if he goes to visions but if he does he calls it his white people school with his full chest to anybody even if they’re white

he be leaving halfway through the day all the time like bro you miss algebra 2 every damn day

uncle arron always talking him out of school with some bullshit reason

bro’s had his tonsils out 8 times on the school’s records

He will get ur parents to put his uncle on ur pickup list and you will be out of there with him

he will YELL if someone step on his shoes no matter what the situation like the school could be on fire and he fighting in the burning building

also his uniform is so pristine

his pants stiff

that button down is bleached ironed pressed and allat

this mfer is an online shopping addict u just know he be on amazon in class

will offer you the weirdest food combos like no i don’t want to put tajin mangoes on my beef patty i’m sick of you nigga

not school related but he’s super good with kids (both miles fr) but he’s the #1 little cousin defender and apologists

he ride for them always one of ur little cousins could sucker punch u and he be like

‘they just want u to play with them’

he takes a preforming arts class for fun prolly

loves sports but doesn’t play one understands the stats well and would help if you played one

wakes up at the asscrack of dawn on weekends

SICK ASS COSTUME FOR HOLLOWEEN IK THIS NIGGA LOVE HOLLOWEEN

plans costumes for school spirit weeks but always checks to seen if he’s gonna be the only one wearing a costume for it

never eats lunch unless his mom makes it he be hungry all day and be complaining

his socks are never in uniform (yes some uniform schools have sock rules)

gwen stacy / spider woman / ghost spider

idk what to call her

she has every snack you could ever want in her lunch bag

hates her music theory teacher

she literally has the most pristine locker with a calendar and a mirror and all that shit will write down test for you and important dates for the both of you

goes to school plays and shits on the story, like she ain’t pay 5 dollars to be there

some of her teachers hate her

like ma’am ur beefing with a whole 16 year old rn

she hate english teachers but love creative writing teachers

she keeps all her books in her locker never brings them home never brings them to class

always comes through with an extra pad no matter what

she also always has hand sanitizer

in like 4 extracurricular after school things and complains so bad

ur starting to hate that shit to ur sick of hearing it like girl quit then

10/10 cameraman she has every fight and every drama in 10khd and she will share them if you ask

she chews her pens and nails

has her drumsticks out always teachers have banned her from taking them to their classes

can watch tv on her phone but look focused you think she’s paying attention but then you look over and she’s watching good luck charlie

pavitr prabhakar / spider-man india

always late for class never in trouble

always eating and sharing food and never in trouble

how is he blessed like this? it ain’t fair

eats from the school vending machines or begs other ppl to share

will always have and share the homework answers no matter what he’s an angel

his sock always have holes in them like sir please get that shit together

gym try hard ik goes insane in football/soccer

very encouraging for shit u don’t wanna do he believes in you

you him and Gayatri talk so much shit but are somehow all well liked

he tells you what teachers are dating (he can just tell)

he has toothpaste in his bag for some reason?? i can just feel this one

his aunt will let you come over after school she’s so sweet to you.

always got a job at school assemblies

he’s reading poems or shaking hand or leading in the school pledge or something

Pav’s is short because i have no fucking clue if school in India is different form america and Barbados

[lorata]

Can you tell me more about Lachlan? Does he any siblings? Are any of them also in the centre? Is he Lower/middle/upper class? Did he keep contact with any of his cohort except Selene/cara after graduation? Do he and Alec date only in the Victor creed/selene au? Is he a loyalist?

Lachlan <3 <3 <3 </3

re: the first stuff, Lachlan grew up solidly middle class, his parents owned a shop somewhere (not sure for what but I feel like one of those corner stores that the family lives overtop kinda deals) and i ... think? he had younger siblings? but he was the only one in the program or at least residential bc i don't know anything about them

he and Alec are only ever a thing in the Victor Creed AU as far as I know WHICH HILARIOUSLY is the only time Alec ever manages something casual i think? normally he uhauls so fast he either scares off the dude by saying i love you or moves in after the second date

he is a tragic character to me, similar to Benvolio -- he's the one who is friends with everyone even when they profess to hate him (Petra) and he tries so hard to keep his friends together but the writing is on the wall, in the end he's one of the only ones left standing

because like ... yeah, of course he tries to keep in touch with everyone! Petra doesn't write him back, so he stops, but he and Selene hang out whenever she's back in town (which isn't often but still), and he and Cara date, and he manages to call Corin / Nicky / Alli / Emma at least every couple months. it's a bit awkward with all the PKs because, well, Selene, Corin & Nicky are all Scouts and they're not allowed to talk about anything they do, but Alli & Emma are regular degular PKs and they're bored out in the districts and nothing is classified so who cares. he even manages to bump into Jason every now and then and it's annoying but you know. oh well.

but then. the war. and he and Cara and Jason are the only ones left.

he and Jason do not make up for a while in canon. there is a HUGE element of how fucking dare you be the one who's left. all the others are gone and I'm stuck with you. i think it's cara who points out that yeah, every single one of their friends are dead and jason is the only one left, are they really going to ice him out just because he's kind of a douche. he's the only one left. at least they have each other

(Lachlan: don't be fucking reasonable when i'm wallowing Cara: marry someone else then jackass)

in the AU it's not AS bad because Selene and Petra also survive and when he reaches out Petra tries to ignore him but Selene is like oh that is NOT happening we ARE getting back in touch and it works! and of course Claudius works his magic with Jason so they do (grudgingly) manage to mend that fence. never gonna be BFFs but, you know, they can do a double date and not be total assholes to each other (Cara and Jason's wife-who-I-should-name get along better I bet, poor wife is dying to please and Cara knows that feel)

re: loyalty, the funny thing is that before the war Lachlan would NEVER call himself a loyalist. that shit's for suckers and Petra, and Chipmunk has that on lock for all of them put together. he's a trainer because he's good at it, and he's not sure what else to do, and well, those who can't do teach, right, so why not. but ...... then the rebels come for the Centre kids, and that is not. allowed. they're KIDS. he fights tooth and nail with the rest of them and they hold, damn it

so yeah, after the war he is not impressed with any reconstruction efforts for a long time because they left D2 out to dry, the kids specifically. but in canon it's Enobaria who fights for the Centre and Lachlan trusts Enobaria (obviously!) so when she comes on board he's like all right, fine. and like he's not in CHARGE he's a junior trainer with like 3 years of experience he doesn't have any say but it still matters, you know?

in canon divergence it's even more complicated because he's mad at CLAUDIUS who joined the rebels, even though he helped evacuate (rather than, you know, try to take out) the Centre, it's still a betrayal, and Lachlan is mad about it! well more accurately he's mad at the whole situation and Claudius is a safe target and D has had enough therapy time to recognize and let him take it out on him, and by the time Lachlan realizes that's what's going on he gets mad about THAT but then they're cool (albeit a bit grudgingly lol).

i do think he and selene have a super awkward talk postwar in divergence where it's like how the FUCK did we end up on not only opposite sides but opposite to where anyone would rightfully have imagined us. he's already taken out his feelings on Claudius so he doesn't have the energy to be mad at her, plus she's lost so many, so it's not an angry talk more a tired/baffled/resigned one. which is why when he contacts her re: the reunion they're already long past it

[mysticalsoot]

marry the idiot on the stage (request)

Request; You're backstage at a Lovejoy gig, you and Will have been together for abt 3 yrs now (some backstory)and at the end of the gig he calls you to the stage and proposes to u - @tobyloveswilbur

A/N; thank you for the request btw! I started this Saturday and somehow managed to finish it today whilst in the hematologists office. they sung the no more chemo song for a kid while I was there too, I did cry. anywho, I struggled a bit w making it super mushy so I had to throw in calling Wilbur an idiot and a dumbass so I didn't cringe so much I deleted it lmao. anyways, I hope you enjoy it!! (also did change the whole backstage thing a bit but it still holds the same concept!)

TW; none besides like swearing!

Pairings; Reader x CC!Wilbur

Pronouns; not mentioned but uses of y/n and l/n (last name)

Words; 2,041

masterlist here

—★—

When you started dating Wilbur you had no intentions of becoming Lovejoy's travelling techie that designed and programmed their lights and projection visuals. And you especially didn't imagine yourself being ushered on stage in the middle of the show by Wil himself. This was not what you had in mind by any means.

The day had started off slow, pulling yourself out of the hotel bed (and Wil's stupidly tight grasp on you) so you could get ready for the day. It took a good thirty minutes to coax Wilbur to let you go, and bribery did have to be involved. Once you had convinced him, you were up and attom, rushing about the room, grabbing clothes, brushing teeth and hair, tying shoes, packing up your bag for the day—you were like a chicken with it's head cut off but in the most organized way. Wil found it endearing—seeing as he woke up shortly after your tactical escape from his arms (he would say "his love" but he is one for the dramatics) he layed in bed watching you go about your tasks.

He found it oddly domestic, despite how not domestic touring Europe for an entire month away from home was. The thought of you getting ready in the morning after peeling yourself away from him, every day, under the same roof—the concept was magical. But he had already realized how much he wanted it. He knew it and he wasn't afraid to show it.

You stuffed a bagel you had saved from the day before in your mouth, holding onto it before you grabbed your computer bag and slung it over your shoulder. You saw Wil leaning against the headboard, watching you with bright eyes and a soft smile. You walked over to the bed, took the bagel in your hand and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm gonna go work on the set up for the show tonight, I'll be back later." You smile down at him, the only time you can barely tower over him is when he's in bed, partially because he slouches so much.

He wraps his hands around your waist, "Can't it wait?" He whines, pulling you closer to him.

You laugh, "No, it can't. You know how long this tech shit takes." You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss the top of his head. You pull away.

He sets his hands on either side of him and swivels his legs to dangle off the bed, "I love you."

"I love you too," You're already halfway headed out the door, bagel back in your mouth, and you take a bite before holding in your hand. Not too long after, you shut the door and head down the hall to the elevator.

Wilbur didn't particularly mind being alone, but he found you always managed to minimize the coldness that lone silence seemed to have. You warmed him, and when you weren't there, he was cold.

He hoped that cold wouldn't be felt for much longer as he was going to propose today. Yes, there was a gig that evening and there wasn't much time for a private well thought out proposal speech, but he was determined this was the day. This was right.

He had everything planned down to a T, he had already talked with the band of wanting to propose sometime while on tour. The Eiffel tower during their France gigs was an idea thrown into the air, another idea was a private picnic on the roof of one of the hotels you were going to be staying in—they were all great ideas but Wilbur was determined. He would propose during a gig.

Everyone was on board, Joe was baffled at how he didn't think of that while the rest of them teased Wil on how dramatic it would be, in the best way.

His plan was simple, halfway through the setlist, he'd ask the audience if he could invite a special guest onto the stage—he figured he wouldn't have to ask since his fanbase loved you so much but he planned to anyway; it was polite. Then he would look to you in the crowd (he already established with their other tech guy for him to usher you into the crowd for you to "enjoy yourself"), and ask you to join him on stage. Once you did, he'd pop the question. He didn't have a plan for a speech like most proposals and despite the other's protests, he assured them he would be fine. He would let it happen as it happened.

While the band was going through their usual soundcheck, you were backstage getting everything for your side of the gig set up. You went through your light programs and made sure they were all set up and not corrupted—unfortunately the file has corrupted before and you did in fact cry alot. Once all the light setups were checked, the cords were plugged in and the programs were running, you hurried back to your computer to check the animations you set up. It was a simple addition you had suggested back in the early days, before you were even a member of Lovejoy's backstage crew. It was the idea that made them practically beg you to join their crew, and you couldn't pass up their pouts and puppy eyes. So here you were, rewatching your own animation that you made for your partners little indie band and checking wires and connections. You've had issues with the projector not wanting to connect before so you were very thorough with how you checked wire and wireless connections—and making sure it was even plugged in at all.

The ruckus of soundcheck dies out a few minutes later and the band comes rushing back stage, Wilbur's curls already beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat. They all chatter amongst themselves, you keeping yourself busy at the computer. A few tweaks to the animation later and you're preparing to set it up for projection. The tweaks were small, little things you noticed last minute but you decided since you had time, it wouldn't hurt to fix them now.

You don't notice the band has vacated the backstage area until a while later, when you realized Wilbur didn't stop and say hello. He usually does when they go backstage after soundcheck, he'll stop over by wherever your spot at the computer is. He'll use some random pet name he wants to use that day and then he'll sit there, his arms around you and his eyes trained on what you're working on. He didn't do that today.

"Hey, I can take care of the rest of the show if you wanna go watch in the crowd for a bit. Is that cool, with you?" The other backstage tech, Dave, asks. He's flat with his delivery, not meaning any negative or positive tone to seep into his words.

"Are you sure?" You're weary, you know he knows the gist of everything just as much as you do but you still worry something will glitch and he won't know how to fix it.

The other tech nods, and gives you a curt smile. You nod back to him and quickly head out the side door and through the hallway, there's another door just ahead and it leads you to the main floor where everyone is meant to stand, not many people are here yet so you get one of the first dibs on barricade. You go ahead and take a seat close to where Wilbur and Ash would stand, more to the right of the stage, and you go ahead and open your phone.

—★—

"Before we continue, there's one little thing I want to do first—" Wilbur looks around in the crowd for you before spotting you standing in front of him, smiling ever so lovingly. "Y/N, would you do the honors of joining us on stage?" He asks, softly bowing and putting his hand out to help you up. What a true gentleman. The crowd all simultaneously gasp, and then all chant your name in that typical Lovejoy fanbase way. Cult-like is the word for it.

"Of course," you smile and take his hand into yours and he pulls you up onto the stage.

"I have something to ask you, love." He grins, his eyes soft with love.

"You're so fucking dramatic, Wil. You're pulling me on the stage to ask me a question?" You laugh, smiling from ear to ear. He's always been one for thematics, big and grand gestures. And they're often enough meant for you at the end of the day.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe?" He pauses, a smirk curling up on his lips. The rest of the band is watching, Joe and Leandra giggling together on the farthest side of the stage. Ash and Mark give each other knowing glances..and you know you're in for something ridiculous now. Wilbur reaches forward and takes your hands in his, "Y/N L/N, you're my best friend, my partner, and despite our sometimes turbulent history—we hold a deep love for each other, and so,"

He pulls out a ring box before going on one knee—you notice how the box is painted, half teal and half your favorite color, initials written poorly on the top. Wilbur and his stupid chicken scratch. Seeing the outside of the box makes you want to cry at that alone, forget the fact you're being proposed to infront of hundreds of people. This man made you a ring box! How fucking cool is that?

"Will you marry me?" He opens the box to show a thin sliver engagement band, a vine engraved all the way around it. The audience whisper-chants say yes together, the band joins in shortly after.

"What do you think?" You pause, eyes squinting by how wide you're smiling, and the crowd erupts into excited whispers. Wilbur looks to you expectantly, his smile not dropping once—he knows the answer, he just wants to hear it, "Yes, I'll marry you, Wil." Saying those words broke something in you, in a good way, and you began to cry. You swore to yourself you would never cry if you were proposed to—but you couldn't help it. Seeing Wilbur so giddy to ask the question, noticing the time and work he put into the fucking ring box—it pushed you over the edge. He was so thoughtful about it that the idea of all that he went through to make this happen seemed to trigger the waterworks.

He jumps up off his knee onto his feet, he gently puts the ring on your left hand and you wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls you in for a kiss, soft and sweet. His hands are on your back and he's just barely lifting you off the ground. The audience cheers and laughs, clapping excitedly. There's "Congratulations" being yelled and you swear you heard someone yell "my streamer finally gets bitches!" somewhere in the crowd. The band joins in the celebration, clapping and cheering just before Mark yells to get a room.

You pull apart, slightly out of breath, but still smiling as wide as ever. "You're a sap, you know that?" You tell him, your hands holding onto his shirt where it rests on his side.

"Yeah, but you love me for it." He leans his forehead against yours, noses touching.

"I sure do, Mr Soot." You laugh a moment, before pulling away, "Now get back to your show, dumbass." You lightly smack his chest and he holds his heart in fake offense.

"You're so mean." Wilbur gasps, his tone betraying his attempt at hurt.

"Oh but you love it," You smirk, holding up your left hand that he just put a ring on.

"I do, don't I?" He smiles just before turning back to the crowd to start the gig back. You sneak off stage and back into the crowd, easily blending in for the most part, aside from the few whispers from the people just around you. Congratulations and I'm so proud of you's are thrown around and you smile. You're happy, you're content and you're so excited to marry the idiot on the stage.

[adambja]

If you literally tried the void but didn't work for you I got you covered bestie 😭

I am working on a tape that will be released soon by the 25th of October it will be available for everyone to buy

This tape literally has everything self-concept but different from the main self-concept tape I sell it gives you the ability to change and control SELF to control and have a life altering experience without the void 😭!!!! This will be totally crazy to everyone here who doesn't really manifest normally or has problem to have that ability to do all this within only 3 days of listening to the tape lmaooo even you will have the ability to reprogram your subconscious mind with your thoughts instantly what i mean is not normal programming 😭😭😭😭!!!

This benefit I am working on (still testing its safety) it makes your brain create new fully developed neurons in your brain to have these beliefs and assumptions and it kills all the opposite neurons that has opposite beliefs/assumptions/feelings 😭😭

I said it before and I am gonna say it again I am a neurologist I studied neuroscience for almost 3 years and finally I am using it to increase the ability of the subconscious mind in a safe way like yes the subconscious mind already has that ability but you don't know it because since you were growing up you were literally told about the things your body can and can't do which is all wrong cause all of this can change since nothing is really real 😭!!! I am so proud of myself and the fact that until now this benefit is actually safe and it's working on me and other people even like on the long-term period is crazyyyyyy - for almost a month (the longest period) I am testing it i made the first version in 3 days during New York Fashion Week and I called one of my professors to help me because I needed to know if it's safe or not and it is safe he was like "you should try it I am sure it works pretty well if you are the one who worked on it I can't forget what you did when I was teaching you and send me a copy of the benefits and the other things you added if you really want to be sure I will check it and send you an email about all the things I noticed" and he sent it to me on October 9th and ma'am he gave me more ideas to add and he asked me if he can buy it and all of this is crazy and if he can use that early version until I make the full one 😭😭!!!!

Bitches I never thought it's that big of a deal making tapes 😭😭😭!!!!

And that's what I used my knowledge in

You literally can change people with only your thoughts and it's instant it's not complected at all simple easy even the reality itself! Your assumptions change instantly and it's effective from the first thought you don't have to think 9337873637 times to get anything you want

You already have it when you think once that's it

It will be a long ass tape I will have 3 versions a 1h and 30 mins tape - a 2 hours tape - a 2h and 30 mins one

Also the subconscious mind is 90% finished the only reason I didn't send it to anyone who bought it is because I am thinking of more affs and more benefits to add

Finally the results of the void experience will be released today all of them cause I already scheduled all of the days to be posted on October 17th which is today this was like days ago so yeah 🫡 I didn't forget

Update: it's still not available but you can buy it and I will send it to you when it's ready