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#but i know i cant stop them from doing it yknow?
daydadahlias · 1 year
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what’s your thought on minors reading your stories?
hm, that's a good question, and I think one that's far more nuanced/convoluted than people often give it credit for and than I often like to think about.
obviously, I'm more than happy for minors to read my G/T and even M rated fics but when we get into the explicit territory - which I assume is what you're asking about - it can get tricky.
i will say, before I get into this far too long and rambling answer, that as a blanket statement, I would prefer that minors did not engage with explicit material period, including my own. However, it would simply be negligent of me to act like there are not minors who actively consume my content.
For a while there, I had "minors dni" in my bio and I also had 18+ for some time but I eventually took both out because I know it doesn't really dissuade people from interacting; if kids/minors want to look at something, they will look at it. And if they can't find it in certain places, they will without a doubt look for it in others.
it's a sad fact about our current culture that by the age of 12, most children will have actively seen pornography - mostly due to pop up ads online and just the sheer volume of pornographic content that exists in our world. so I am under no disillusion that minors also actively seek it out. I mean, I started reading porn when I was 12. Do I think, realistically, that it was a good thing for my emotional development? Uhm, no I don't! I don't think kids should be reading porn; it vastly skews their perceptions of sex and can negatively impact their relationships with sexuality in their adulthood. That's just a proven fact. So if I had any real say in it, I would say that minors should not be reading/viewing porn period, definitely not before the age of 15. That includes my own.
But, all that to say, I understand that I am an adult posting pornography on a public platform; if minors want to stumble on it, they will. I also know that I have all the necessary warnings and content triggers in place should someone come across my work and, at a certain point, if they continue to view it despite it being marked for mature audiences, that is not On Me as a creator. I cannot control what people choose to view.
I will say that, in terms of sexual content, I know that I am always writing healthy and consensual sexual dynamics between my characters so of the porn that minors could be exposed to, mine is certainly not of the dangerous variety for a minor to be consuming.
Am I fully comfortable with the thought of minors reading my material? No. But I'm not going to make it a habit to police people's interaction with the internet and I'm also not going to go through every single one of my followers and search to see if they're a minor to block them if they are. That doesn't stop kids from seeking things out. Frankly, I think blocking minors would only make them seek out other dangerous sexual content. Sometimes I think that I'd rather minors read my explicit material rather than explicit material that is tagged incorrectly, y'know? I'd rather minors read about actual consensual sex than dub-con or rape disguised as such.
At the end of the day, all I want is for minors to recognize that what they read online is not an accurate articulation of what occurs in real life and do their necessary research to be safe when they actively choose to interact with sex irl. But far be it from me to tell them how they should and should not consume written material, y'know?
I have an obligation as a creator (as I think all creators do) to tag my material properly and trigger warn accordingly because I do know realistically that minors might come across it, but from there it's completely out of my hands on if minors choose to engage with it or not.
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rayvern-sheep · 2 months
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I have noticed an annoying increase in ppl using “hyper-fixation” to describe something they enjoy…
Please look up what terms mean instead of just repeating them because you saw someone else use it. The context they used it in might be wrong.. It makes it hard to actually talk abt this shit when everyone severely misunderstands what the term means.
It’s not as serious as misusing the term “intrusive thought” but it’s still not great.
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sereniv · 8 months
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just venting
i mean whats the end goal for any of them
the politicians, the rich
to start a world war? to cause an uprising? an economic collapse? an unlivable planet? chaos?
bc thats whats going to happen
everything is being stretched so fucking thin that they will have nothing left for themsleves, they will have destroyed everything and then what??
wait until the last possible minute to either die from natural causes, vices, or kill yourself??
like what is the end goal? world domination? (im talking about the rich and politicians in general)
bc if its power that only goes so far. same with money.
even if you enslaved the whole world it wouldnt last. it cant it just is literally impossible
this kind of shit is finite, being a terrible person has a limit
they want to feel so powerful but is there an end?
but i guess they literally are just riding the wave until they die.
i just cant wrap my head around it
and its so fucking hard to give up. i want to give up so bad and just stop caring and just focus on whatever i want and get in that shitty richy politician mindset
because i dont believe in accountability after death, but i cant.
even with the anger and wanting these people dead and this strong beyond words feeling of hate for them i still cant fathom and understand the hate they have for everyone who isnt them or like them
if they all dropped dead im celebrating
but if i had a choice between them changing all of a sudden and them dropping dead id choose change
how does someone become like them how does that hate and anger grow so much that it practically oozes out their pores
i cant help but not give up and i cant help but have hope
their ways are not sustainable and everything is already breaking and i hope it breaks soon like full on. whatever that means
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ozymoron · 1 year
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my joker moment starts with trying to search up certain facial features and all the results being surgery before and afters where they "fix" it
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yelloworangesoda · 7 months
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gotta get off the internet and only interact irl with people who were 30 before they got their shit together i cant keep doing it like this
#like this being. feeling like i have no future and nobody likes me#‘youre only 19’ only goes so far when i dont know any other fail 19 year olds#im not gonna be a damn dentist for sure but like. and ive said this a thousand times. what am i gonna do. i cant live a worthless nothing#life where i work a shitty job i hate. i have to like something#i hate my art. i hate my lack of creativity. my art is so bland i just dont think its in me anymore#i finished. and i hate it#i have other hobbies. i like to cross stitch. i like to sew. i like to paint. i like to make dolls. do you see the common theme here#i have a few more than that i technically could do but i cant create anymore and it kills me. i want to. i constantly want to but i cant#it doesnt help that even if i havw ideas i dont even want to do them#i was gonna draw some characters from a game i played when i was little but i just#didnt want to. at no point did it not feel like a chore#ill try to go to new mediums! its fun to mess around and then itll feel boring again and going back doesnt feel any better#idk. googling it is useless. ive tried all the things. for years. ive been TRYING to draw consistently and like. doodles are fine theyre fu#but theyre not what i want to do i want to make something im proud of. i drew almost every single day for like 2 years#and its not burnout bc its been like. 2 more years! and ive barely wanted to at all!!!#i want to be creative and i also want people to recognize it. different complaint but it sucks so bad#i feel like nobody likes me. still. nobody cares about what i do. nobody would care if i stopped#like except me but i can only support myself so far!!!! im so tired of it!!!! someone PLEASE be here for me and just say ‘hey i love this#drawing :)’ like you have no idea what that would do for me#not always. but yknow especially if its been a while. if you like it. if you dont like it :( idk. you should tell me that too i guess#yknow so i can have some confirmation so i dont feel like im crazy. idk. dont actually id never go online again. i would probably. well.#i dont like to say the words#simons spouting#vent :(
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minarcana · 2 years
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#ok guess what fuckers youre going to be on another tag ramble adventure with me#ive been afflicted with the same images in my brain tumbling around and the only way to free my brain is to write them out#and anyways i have been contemplating wol au uri for a bit due to various reasons (he came up and then i got this image and couldnt be free#shb with uri as the wol is. after killing vauthry. he is SO fucked up that raha STILL wont just let him die#he was supposed to have raha send him to the rift with the light and let him die there but now that he cant stop him rahas taking it himsel#and theres the whole. 'no we really cannot have the wol die.' thing.#that makes it infinitely worse to uri. him just yelling through blood to let him die! let him have his turn! he WANTS to die!#the idea of bring told that the wol CANT die makes it so much more unfair to him#'you wouldnt know what to do if i died? i didnt know what to do for years after louisoux died! i still dont know what to do without moenbry#da! papalymo can sacrifice himself and everyone adapts! shtola has thrown herself to the lifestream twice! minfilia died! i had to stay sil#ent and let ryne choose her own path if she died or not! i cant tell people that i would be lost yet everyone gets to tell ME that?#do you think i am better than them do you think them worth less why do they have the right to die and i do not!'#he is SO SO SO much worse as a wol and it falls out in one outburst after hes quizzed as to why he thought he could sacrifice himself#but he also realizes that its really fucked up to say that aloud so yknow. yknow what. yknow.#hell bottle up all his feelings and then one day hell either die or start crying and it looks like he aint allowed to die!#he still takes the aid from ardbert at amaurot with the statement that#'if i dont try and save who i might then ill never be able to face moenbryda'#anyways cannot stop thinking about me giving uri the echo like 'this will be funny!' and hes just 'my life has become infinitely worse'#HEAD IN MY HANDS
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haemosexuality · 1 year
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these past few days i have been uncharacteristically. emotionally open. w my friend and it has me thinking about how truly for all of my life i just did not expect anything from anyone
#like since i was a kid i just accepted in my head that all the ''friends'' id have were ppl who either were just putting up w me (probably#bc they had no one else and i was like. what was available) or ppl who cared ab me yeah but i was still their second or third choice#and i was just like. yeah ok. i can survive w that. like consciously i made the choice to hang out w people i knew didnt really like me#bc it was better than not having anyone to talk to#did it hurt any less when those ppl eventually stopped talking to me or i learned theyve been talking about how annoying i am to others?#no it didnt. bc i still cared about Them and had Them as my first choice. but i just thought. thats just how it is. im jist not really#likeable. so ill take what i can get#when i was like 7 or 8. i had one friend at school. and she had like some issues at home or smth idk but sometimes she would just start.#treating me badly or just ignoring me for months at a time. and its not like it deeply traumatized me or anything i honestly didmt remember#this fact until like last year but the thing is that i just. accepted it. i was just like yeah ok for half of the year or so my only friend#will act like she hates me and ill have no one to talk to. thats fine. ill just wait until next year when she likes me again. at age 7. and#now im just like what the fuck man why did i just accept that as my life. through all my childhood and then with other friends in my teen#years why did i never not once try to do better for myself. yknow?#when i was 11 and in another school my best friend suddenly started not talking to me. after a month or so of this i decided to invite her#to my house to play like we had done so several times before and she just looked at me like she was confused i was talking to her at all#and said ''why?''. and i was just like. ok. thats that i guess. genuinely why did i just accept these things#and like yeah i have friends that i feel Get me now and one i love just so much and i can tell loves me back but theyre online. i dont talk#to anyone irl. i dont know how. and im happy im so happy but im also scared that im just doomed to be extremely lonely forever irl#because i am legit just not likeable. not to be a weird a weirdo but yeah im just too different from ur average person my age i cant#connect with them in any way. and i also dont know how to talk to people or make friends or to find people that are like me. ill just#not have anyone forever#i guess#especially bc now i dont hate myself enough to hang out with people i dont like so like. i dont even have that as an option skdbskdjks#Every friend i ever made happened bc the other person reached out to me first and insisted on it. all the friendships that stuck were the#gay autistic/adhd weirdonerds who can relate to my hyperfixations and dont expect me to act Normal™. idk how to find the former group irl#and have never once iniciated a friendship. my fate is to be someone who has online friends only and exclusively#and dont even get me STARTED on the topic of having a girlfriend someday-#anyways. certified magnus archives moment
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motherforthefamicom · 2 years
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have been very compelled to draw ratchet from hit game & clank for the past few days for some reason
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vagueiish · 5 months
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no, ha ha, dont kill yourself, you're a valued member of society!
we don't actually care enough to learn about you and become more than polite acquaintances nor do we actually want to interact with you beyond empty platitudes and the requisite amount of small talk to seem polite, so we don't actually know your real value or what you might actually have to offer or anything about you really. and your obvious emotional pain is making us feel bad, so if you could find some other way to relieve it that doesn't involve exposing us to it in any way shape or form, that would be preferable....
oh, but don't kill yourself, ha ha, that'd be bad! because you definitely have worth! and people definitely care about you!
#cw suicide mention#depression posting#i made the mistake of telling one of my favorite not quite managers i was two steps away from killing myself#and he was nice about it and said all the things one is supposed to say in that situation#but im thinking here now like. why would i do that? not like he actually meant it right?#people *have* to be like 'dont do the thing' because to be otherwise would be uh....jerkish. i think#people being like 'you have folks who care. it gets better' when you admit something like that is fucking meaningless because#it almost feels like youre trapping them. yknow?#they have to say im not worthless or a burden or any of that shit#but if i were to actually go ahead and...not even do it. but even just stop showing up one day#nobody would actually notice. nobody at work would notice my absence certainly#which... i dont even mind that on one hand. i dont do much to make myself noticeable#i aint got much going on lmao nor do i put myself out there#but what cheeses me off about this kind of sentiment. about my not-quite-manager and other people saying this shit to me is...#what do you value in me? you dont lnow me well enough to value me#how can you even pretend like you want me to stick around if you dont care enough to get to know me?#oh? you want me to live??? name one fact about me that cant be gleaned from my myriad band and novelty tees#you think i have worth but not enough to invite me to participate in the intricate rituals of human connection. cool#it's not meaningless to me. there's a brief almost reflexive feeling of relief but then i think about it and like#people spouting that kind of participation trophy style platitude at me says nothing about me. it's impersonal#'you shouldnt kill yourself because i like your jokes and i like your writing and all these things about you specifically because i know you#because i care about *you*'#why cant i ever have that? why am i not worth enough for people to want to get to know???#fuck.#to the void with love
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nymphoniah · 15 days
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smoking out the window 🚬
i cant lie this fic is very self indulgent, but i had to share with y'all hehe <3 basically just smoking with logan, sitting in his lap, and yall end up gettin’ down and FREAKYYY.
pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader
warnings/tags: NSFW (minors DNI, 18+ only), smoking, pet names (bub, baby princess, etc.), old man!logan, boyfriend!logan, teasing, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, hair pulling, cumplay, cum swallowing, skull fucking
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you’re seated criss-crossed in front of the fire escape, window cracked slightly ajar. you take a long inhale of your cigarette, letting the smoke sit in your mouth for a second before puffing out the rest through your nose.
your lips pull away from the filter, now tinted pink and slightly shiny from your lip gloss. you look over your shoulder to see logan let out a small chuckle, taking a drag from his cigar. you roll your eyes at him, tapping the end of your cigarette against the ashtray placed between you.
“yknow i already tried cigars… they’re just too big for me”. logan looks at you with a raised brow, a smug smile slowly creeping upon his face. you took a moment to process what you said, and how wrong it sounded out of context.
“hey! get your mind out of the gutter. you know what i mean,” you quipped, quickly taking a puff of your cigarette, playfully exhaling into his face to recant.
logan pays no mind to your games, simply shooing away the smoke with his free hand. “whatever you say bub…” he chuckles out, looking at you with a content smile.
he takes another hit from his cigar before sizing you up with his grim eyes. you were wearing a pair of sleep shorts, short enough to leave no room for imagination, with one of logan's flannels that you messily buttoned up this morning draping over your shoulders.
the domesticity of it all is what riled logan up. seeing you dressed up in his clothes, cuddled up in your small, but cozy, apartment bedroom, seated right in front of the fire exit. considering how hectic his life once was, nothing could compare to this.
“try it one more time, baby,” he requests, his pointer and middle finger signaling to come over to him. you rolled your eyes and reluctantly crawled your way over to him. he taps his lap with both hands, and you cozily fit into the thick embrace of his thighs.
you already know where this is going. he's done it once, and he'll do it again. you pursed your lips, your eyes quickly glancing over at his cigar, then promptly meeting his teasing gaze.
“c’mon, just about half of it is left. finish it with me, yeah?” he says with a sultry tone, tilting his head to the side.
“only cause you asked so nicely.” you replied, pressing your lips to the temple of his forehead, your left hand steadying yourself against his hips before you ruffle up his pointed tufts of hair with your right.
seating yourself back in his lap, you took the cigar from his hand, taking it in your own. you guide his calloused hand to the hem of your sleep shorts, his fingers finding purchase at the waistband, playfully tugging it back, allowing for them to snap back against your hips.
taking a deep puff, you let the smoke linger in your mouth as you would with your cigarette. the flavor was definitely more intense compared to the pack of reds you smoke daily. you immediately felt the buzz from the nicotine as the smoke coated your mouth in an almost oily film.
you're about to deeply inhale until you remember you're not supposed to actually inhale the smoke of the cigar. you catch yourself mid-breath, but you weren't fast enough to stop yourself. the bitter taste of the nicotine floods your throat, causing you to let out an unpleasant cough.
"careful there, princess", he teases you, his firm hand patting your back as you continued to cough. "don't wanna hurt yourself", he says chuckling to himself, finding your discomfort somewhat amusing.
you took a second to compose yourself, then joined in on logan's laughter. you pressed your forehead against his chest, snickering over how foolish you probably looked, choking on your own saliva.
"i told you s'too much!" you retort with a smile, nudging yourself deeper into his chest. you can smell the musk of his cologne mixed with the heady scent of smoke in the air; it was intoxicating how logan ran his fingers through your hair, his hands slowly finding their way to the small of your back.
you gently pull away from him, his arms wrapped around your waist, planting your hips against his, the flesh of your ass feeling his erection forming. a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips as you gently grind against him.
logan lets out a grunt as he feels the blood rush to his dick. peppering kisses along his neck, you slowly make your way up to his jawline. "baby, you're forgettin' something..." you lull, placing the cigar back between his lips.
you admire the way his muscles flex with every movement you make, almost syncopating to the rhythm of your hips. the way he matched your pace was addicting. "yknow..." you trail off, sliding yourself off of his lap, moving to kneel in front of him.
"cigars may be big for me... but there's something bigger that i can handle," you hum as you get on your knees, your figure now slotted between his bulky thighs.
placing your hands on his quads, your fingertips trace figure-eights against his jeans. you take a deep breath and rest your head on the inner of his thighs, your left hand working its way slowly to his crotch.
"you're so needy, bub" he whines out of the corner of his mouth, cigar still between his lips. his breath faltered as your fingers graze over the growing tent in his jeans.
"let me please you, lo. wanna make you feel good," you plead, your eyes looking up at him with an intense lust.
"f-fuck." he stutters as your fingers press harder against his erection "how can i say no to my baby?" he obliges, taking the cigar out of his mouth to light out on the ashtray.
you reach your hand out to grab his arm before he lights out his cigar, your grip on his bicep tightening as he gently tries to pull away from your grasp. "wait," you said hastily, "don't put it out yet".
he raises his eyebrow at your command, but doesn't push it any further. "got something planned, bub?" he asks, leaning back into the couch, manspreading wider.
you nod your head as you work at his belt nimbly, slithering the leather around and off of his waist, metal buckle of the belt clanking silently against the plush carpet that your knees rested on.
as you push his jeans and boxers down, his cock springs out, bouncing back against his stomach. his tip was already red, leaking with precum. you admire the length and girth of his dick as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock.
tracing a vein with your tongue, you move from the base of his cock to his tip. logan moved his hands to cup your face, fighting the urge to push himself down your throat as you continued to tease him slowly. "ah f-fuck," he winces, as you press a wet kiss to his tip.
"quit taking so damn long, princess," he adds, your hot breath tickling him. the lewd sight of his pre mixed with your saliva forming a strand from your bottom lip to his tip made your core pulsate. you pushed your thighs together to alleviate the aching pain you felt.
seductively licking your lips, your mouth finds its way back wrapped around his girthy cock. you slowly ease yourself all the way down him as the tip of your nose presses against his pelvis.
breathing through your nose, your lips make their way up his length, making sure to savor the way his tip rested against your tongue. tracing his slit carefully, you lick up his leaking precum, making sure not to miss a single drop of it.
"fuck yeah-", he hisses out, taking a hit. as he exhales the smoke, he grabs a fist full of your hair, now taking control of your movements. he thrusts into your mouth at a rapid and shallow pace, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.
his unrelenting pace made your pussy throb harder; the way he looked as he stood above you, manhandling you, using you, practically as a fucktoy, made you see stars.
eventually he slowed down his pace, his strokes becoming deeper, more sensual. "still with me, bub?" he asked, his eyes locked with your own as he continued to throatfuck you. "mmmh." you answered, with a fucked-out gaze.
"good," he hummed, loosening his grip on your hair. "gonna need you to be a good girl for me, princess." he gives the temple of your forehead a light kiss, his salt-and-pepper beard tickling your hairline.
a split second after the kiss, he retightens his fist, gripping more of your hair than before, and pushes you down the length of his shaft vigorously. the sudden gesture makes you wince around him.
unable to breathe through your mouth, you gag around him. the walls of your throat squeeze tightly along logan's length, making him wince out in pleasure. unable to control himself, he firmly plants his left hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place, as his right brings his cigar back to hips lips.
logan takes a long drag from the cigar, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, blowing away the smoke. "stay right there for me, bub... i know y'can do that for me, yeah?" he says with a smirk, keeping his eyes on you.
you grunt in response, breathing heavily through your nose to keep the little composure that you had. still gagging around his cock, your vision began to get blurry as tears began forming.
"shit, im coming-" logan groans out, harshly pumping his cock even further into your throat. with each thrust of his hips, a moan escaped from you, followed along with a gag. the mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating.
soon after his announcement, you feel the thick ropes of his cum sliding along your esophagus. the heady taste of his cum coats your mouth and lips; the salty and sweet tang grounded you from your mind blanking as he continued to skullfuck you.
it felt like an eternity before logan released you from his firm grasp. you slipped your lips off of him, now resting your head on his thigh. you cough a little bit, and your nose starts to drip.
"still think my dick's too big for you to handle?" he teases, tucking a stray strand of your bangs behind your ear. you shake your head no, flashing him a lazy smile. he brings the cigar to your lips for you to take a hit.
"atta girl."
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bsturnzmtt · 2 months
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A fic based on Reminder by The Weeknd (angst pls) with Chris
Reminder - C. Sturniolo
Situationship
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Paring: jealous!Chris x sub!Reader
Contains/warnings: situationship, orgasm control, edging, overstimulation, creampie (on the pill), spanking, degradation, very rough sex, riding, petnames, use of vibrator.
Summary: Chris flirts and fucks other girls, since you guys aren’t in a relationship you can’t really say something to him. So you decide to flirt with a guy in front of him… so he takes you home and reminds you who you really belong to.
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You have been friends with the Sturniolo triplets for some time now. You are great friends with the three of them. You guys always hangout, have fun, joke around etc. But what Matt and Nick don’t know, is that you and Chris have been hooking up for some while now. You and Chris never really talked about it, you guys would occasionally flirt when no one was around, you would exchange dirty texts, and fuck around. Nothing really serious. Since you guys aren’t really committed, Chris goes around flirting and fucking other girls too. You hate that. You hate that you feel jealous when he does that, but you cant say anything without looking like a crazy jealous girl. So you decided to give Chris a taste of his own medicine…
Tonight you and the triplets are going to get dinner. Chris has been trying to get your attention all night, but you are ignoring him. When you guys get to the restaurant Matt told you and Chris to go get a table while him and Nick try to find a parking spot. You and Chris get out of the car and start walking to the restaurant.
As you and Chris walk to the restaurant, he falls into step beside you, his body crowding yours in a way that's both intentional and unconscious. His arm brushes against yours, a deliberate touch meant to get your attention. He scoffs at his failed attempt to gain your attention. Grabbing your arm, he pulls you aside as soon as you start walking towards the restaurant. “Hey, what's your deal?”
“What do you mean?” You ask feigning confusion.
He raises an eyebrow at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the street lamps. His grip on your arm tightens, his face inches from yours. “You know what I mean.” His voice is low, tinged with a mix of annoyance and something deeper, a primal desire.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say innocently.
Chris lets out a short, humorless laugh. He leans in closer, “Don't play dumb with me.” His hot breath sends a shock of electricity down your spine. "You've been ignoring me all night, and I know you've noticed me trying to get your attention."
“Oh you were? I didn’t catch that.” You say.
Chris rolls his eyes at your response, but a slow smile spreads across his face. “Sure, you didn’t. You're a terrible liar” Chris's eyes narrow, a hint of irritation flashing across his face. “So, stop acting like you don't want anything to do with me." His voice rises, the anger and frustration palpable.
“I’m just not in the mood, yknow…” you say looking at him with a smirk. “And now if you’ll excuse me. We have to get a table.” You pull away his arm and walk to where you ask for a table, and for your luck the guy was cute. “Heyyy, could I get a table for 4? Please?” You ask with a flirty smile and playing with your hair.
Chris grits his teeth as you walk away, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as you bat your eyelashes at the cute server. His eyes darkening as he sees the flirty smile and the touch of your hand on the waiter's arm. Chris can't help but feel a surge of jealousy wash over him.
“Jack is it?” You ask as you see the waiters name tag. “That’s a cute name”
Chris watches as Jack's face lights up at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He can't help but feel a pang of irritation and annoyance as he sees you two flirting, laughing and smiling at each other. Chris's jaw clenches as you coo over the waiter's name, the possessiveness in him flaring up. He strides over to where you stand, his tall frame dominating the space. "Cute, huh?" His voice is low and menacing, dripping with sarcasm. “So… Jack. What the fuck is taking you so long to get us a table?”
“Oh- uhm right, sorry” Jack says and leads us to our table, and leaves.
You guys get to the table and sit. Chris sits next to you. Chris can't help but glower at you as you take your seats at the table, his irritation and jealousy boiling over. Once Jack is out of sight, he turns to face you, his expression darkening. "What's going on here, huh? You trying to get in his pants or something?"
You scoff “Excuse me?”
Chris leans in, his voice dropping to a low growl. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?” He tries hard to control his anger, his emotions clouding his judgment. “You were all over him back there.” He reaches out, gripping your thigh possessively under the table. “I saw how you were flirting with him, batting your eyelashes and playing with your hair.”
“Mmh you know… maybe I do want to get in his pants.” You say with a teasing smirk.
Chris's grip on your thigh tightens, anger and jealousy coursing through him. But when he’s about to say something Matt and Nick come to the table. They sit at the two sits in front of you and Chris.
"What's up, fuckers?" Chris tries to sound jovial, but you can hear the edge in his voice. Matt and Nick don't seem to notice, as they engaged in a conversation with each other. "You two order yet?" Nick asks.
“Nope, not yet.” You say.
“Let’s take a look at the menu.” Matt says. We all grab a menu and start reading through it.
“I already know what I want.” Chris says and throws the menu back at the table. You can still feel his hand on your thigh but now he is slowly moving it up.
You breathe heavily and squeeze your thighs. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick.” You say with your voice in edge. You stand up and start walking towards the bathroom.
Chris's grip on your thigh tightens, but you manage to stand up and walk away. He watches you go, his mind running wild with thoughts of what he would like to do to you if his brothers weren’t weren’t here. After a few seconds Chris decides to follow you to the bathroom. “I need to take a piss.” He say and stands up. He walks to the ladies bathroom and stands outside of the door waiting for you.
After 2 minutes you take a deep breath and open the bathroom door, ready to go back to the table and just have a nice dinner with the guys. But when you turn around, Chris is right there, standing outside of the bathroom. “Chris wha-”
Chris quickly grabs you tightly by your arm. “You’re coming with me.” He roughly says, his hot breath hitting your ear. He roughly pulls you towards the table. “Guys I’m taking y/n home, she’s not feeling well.” He says to Nick and Matt.
You looked at him confused
“Oh no what happened?” Nick asks.
“I- uhmm … I’m just not feeling very well… i think my blood pressure is low…” You say that making it up on the spot.
Chris nods his head. “Yeah.”
“Do you need us to come with? I can drive you home.” Matt says.
“Nooo, no it’s fine we’ll uber.” Chris replies.
Chris pulls you out of the restaurant and outside. He looks around for a few seconds and sees an Uber already waiting at the curb. He pushes you into the backseat of the car. The ride to your house is silent. His hand on your thigh all the time. After 10 minutes you get to your house.
Chris gets out of the Uber and looks at you with an intense gaze. He grabs your arm and practically drags you towards your house. His strong grip squeezes you a little too hard.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say as you two enter your house.
Chris slams the door shut behind you and pushes you up against it. He leans in close, his face inches from yours. “No. What the fuck is wrong with you!? First you ignore me all fucking night. Then you flirt with that stupid waiter in front of me!”
You scoff and push him away slightly. “Are you jealous or something?”
Chris's eyes narrow at your scoff and push. "Jealous? Of who? That waiter? He's nothing."
“Yep you’re definitely jealous.” You say with a teasing smirk.
Chris's face twists in anger, but you can see the jealousy written all over it. "Shut the fuck up," He grabs your wrist and pinches it, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to show control.
“Right, so you get to flirt and fuck with other girls but I don’t to flirt with another guy? You say.
Chris's grip on your wrist tightens slightly at the accusation. "You're mine.” His voice is low and rough, laced with a threat. "I let you flirt and be whatever you want, but you're never touching anyone else."
“I’m not yours” you say with a scoff. “And I can do whatever I want.”
Chris's eyes narrow even further, his anger growing more and more. "You are mine, whether you like it or not." he growls out. “Or maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to.” His hot breath tickling your skin as he says that.
Chris doesn't waste any time, he pulls you roughly to him, slamming his lips against yours in a forceful, possessive kiss. His tongue forces its way into your mouth. His hands roam your body, grabbing and squeezing your curves. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw a tiny bead of blood before sucking it into his mouth. His hands grab your hips roughly as he grinds against you, his hardness evident through his pants. "You're mine, and you'll fucking remember it."
Chris's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands continue to wander over your body, gripping and groping you. His arousal is growing more and more evident against your leg. He quickly picks you up and makes his way to your room throwing you on your bed. “Strip.”
You quickly start removing all your clothes. You get to your underwear, you slip of your bra and when you were about to slip out your clearly soaked panties, Chris speaks. “Stop.”
Chris's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you in just your pan. He licks his lips, his gaze roving over your body hungrily. Without a word, he reaches out and rips your soaked panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Fuck, look at you,"
You gasp at his actions.
Chris chuckles darkly at your gasp, his eyes never leaving your body. He steps forward, towering over you on the bed. "You like that, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and husky. "Getting manhandled, treated like a dirty little slut." Chris's eyes flick up to your face, expecting you to protest but seeing a spark of arousal instead, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He reaches out and rubs his hand over your wetness, grinning at your gasp again. "I love that I can make you gasp, make you lose control, make you fucking horny as hell because of me." Chris's hands cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth. He bites down hard, tugging and releasing the sensitive bud. "You're already so wet for me, dirty girl," he teases before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.
You whine at his actions. Your pussy clenching around nothing.
Chris groans at your whine, feeling his cock harden in his pants. His teasing fingers, now wet with the taste of your desire, trace down your thigh. "Look at how impatient you are, already whining and clenching with need," He moves between your legs, and his fingers trace your needy pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit in slow circles. "You like that, don't you?" he taunts, rubbing his finger against your clit. "You're so fucking wet and empty.” He stops his movements and walks over to your drawer.
You whine and frown your eyebrows as he suddenly stops. “What are you doing?” You ask.
Chris smirks, finding your whine and frown adorable, like a petulant child begging for attention. He chuckles at your reaction. He continues to dig around in your drawer, looking for something, though he won't tell you what. Finally, he holds up a pink vibrator. “I was looking for something so I can tease your wet pussy as long as I want." he replies, holding up the vibrator for you to see. His eyes stay on your face, watching your expression intensely as he flicks it on and off.
You look at your vibrator in his hands and you feel your self getting wetter. “Ho- how did you know that was there?”
Chris smirks at your reaction, enjoying how flustered and turned on he can get you. "I think you underestimate me.” He moves back over to the bed, letting the vibrator trail lightly over your bare thighs. Your body's reaction to the toy in his hands makes Chris chuckle, his eyes glinting with an amused and lust-filled gaze. "I have my ways, dirty girl," he smirks, bringing the pink vibrator towards your dripping wet pussy.
“Mmh fuck” you moan.
Chris's smirk widens at your dirty mouth, feeling his own cock twitch in his pants at how much you want him. He moves the vibrator towards your clit, tracing it lightly and teasingly. "You like that, dirty whore?" You moan and nod. "Fuck, you're soaked." he growls, rubbing the tip of the vibrator over your clit, making you whine and writhe in need.
“Mmhp Chris” you moan as your head leans back.
Chris grins at your submission, feeling a surge of power and desire. He watches your head fall back, a low groan escaping his own lips at the sight of your pleasure. Hearing his name moaned from your lips only makes him more crazy for you, his own cock painfully hard and swollen in his pants. He continues to tease your clit with the vibrator, moving it in slow, deliberate circles. His free hand moves to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple roughly. "You like that, you needy little slut?"
“Fuck yes Chris”
The dirty talk only fuels Chris's desire for you further, his swollen cock twitching in his pants. "Fuck, yes you do." Chris groans back, pinching your nipple tighter and quickening the pace of the vibrator on your clit. “You don’t get to cum until I tell you to.”
You whine. “W-what?”
Chris grins sadistically at your whimper as he slows down the vibrator again, his free hand moving from your breast to grip your throat lightly. "I said no cumming until I give you permission, slut," He growls. "You'll take what I give you and beg for more." Chris pulls the vibrator away from your needy clit, making you whine in protest. "I control when you cum, not the other way around. Now begging for it." He commands.
“Chris mmh please” you beg.
Chris smirks wickedly at your begging, his cock throbbing in response to your pleading voice. "You want this, slut?" he asks teasingly, brushing the tip of the vibrator over your clit again, earning him a loud whine. "mmh fuck” you moan. Chris sees your eyes glazed with need and desire, and he knows he has you right where he wants you.
He moves the vibrator in slow, deliberate circles around your clit. "Beg for it, slut." He demands again, his voice low and husky. Chris grins in satisfaction as he feels your body tensing up, ready to explode. He pulls the vibrator away from your clit again, just as you were about to cum. "I didn't say you could cum yet." He says firmly, enjoying the sight of your frustration.
“Mmhp Chris mmh fuck please” you desperately beg.
Chris chuckles darkly at your desperation, his own cock twitching in his pants. He can see how much you want this, and he loves it. "Do you think you deserve to cum, slut?" He taunts, brushing the vibrator against your clit again.
“Ahhh fuck” you moan.
"Such a greedy little slut," He teases, pinching your clit between the vibrator and his thumb, making you buck and moan. then he brings back the vibrator to your clit and applying more pressure.
You’re feeling too much pleasure and cant take it anymore so you cum.
Chris's eyes widen slightly in surprise as you climax, your body shaking and convulsing with pleasure under his touch. "Fucking slut. Did I say you could cum?" he growls, keeping the vibrator pressed against your still-sensitized clit, drawing out your orgasm for as long as he can.
Chris smirks at you, satisfied with making you cum and also making you break his rules. Chris abruptly pulls the vibrator away from your oversensitive clit. He throws the device onto the nightstand, the vibrations dying out. Chris smirks at your lack of response. "Slutty little girl, didn't I ask you a question?" He grabs you by your throat.
“I-.. Chris im sorry… I just couldn’t… I cou-”
Chris squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. "I didn't ask for excuses, slut" Chris growls out, squeezing your throat as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Couldn't control yourself? Couldn't do as you were told?" His hand goes down to your drenched pussy. "Look at the mess you made."
“Mmh I’m so sorry Chris” you say.
Chris tightens his grip around your throat, his fingers digging into your flesh. "You should be sorry, slut. You disobeyed me," he hisses, his other hand roughly spreading your pussy lips apart to inspect the mess you made. Chris releases your throat and grabs a hold of your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. He sees the regret in your eyes he smiles evilly. "You know what happens when you don't do as you're told? You get punished."
As you are about to say something, Chris says “On all fours, slut”
He pushes you onto your hands and knees, forcing your back arched and presenting your ass to him. “Count.” He roughly says before spanking you in the ass.
You feel a sting of pain as he does that. “Ahhh… one” you barely say.
Chris smirks as he delivers another stinging slap to your ass. "Two," he counts out, his palm landing with a loud crack on your vulnerable flesh. He continues this rhythm, each spank more forceful than the last, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Three, four, five.”
He stops spanking you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Feeling the burn, slut?" He continues to speak but his tone becomes aggressive, "You need something to focus on besides the pain? How about my thick cock slamming into that wet cunt of yours?
“Mhm please Chris.” You eagerly nod.
He takes your desperation and grins at you, standing up once again. He guides his cock to the entrance of your needy hole, pushing inside with a sharp groan. He begins to thrust rapidly, taking all the force and aggression out on your body as he slams into you again and again.
“Oh fuck Chris” you moan.
Chris grips your hips tightly, driving into you so hard that each thrust sends a wave of pleasure and pain through your entire body. You can hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as he continues to rut into you like an animal. "That's it, whore. Take all of me," He slams into you harder as he picks up speed. Chris reaches around and pinches your clit, rubbing it in time with his relentless thrusts.
“Mmhp Chris Im going to cum”
He smirks when he hears you, clearly on the edge of release. "Cum for me, bitch." He demands, slamming his hips against yours as his fingers continue to rub at your tight little clit.
“Mmh oh my god” you scream as you cum.
Chris grunts as he feels your walls clench around him, your orgasm milking his cock. He thrusts a few more times before burying himself deep inside you, his hot seed pumping into your spasming pussy. He stays buried inside for a few moments before pulling out, his cum dripping down your thighs. "Oh fuck, yeah”
You fall on the bed tired from your previous orgasms.
Chris chuckles as he watches you collapse onto the bed, finally spent from his aggressive fucking. He admires the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy and smirks. He smirks and gives his cock a few more experimental thrusts, still hard after making you orgasm so many times. He walks over to the bed and pulls you up to sit against the headboard, his hard cock still out and dripping with your juices. He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Hope you don’t think we’re done here.”
“What?… Chris I-”
Chris cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he continues to hold your chin in his dominant grip. His other hand sneaks down to your aching, abused pussy, a finger slipping inside to tease your sensitive insides. When he breaks the kiss, he pulls back and smirks at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You didn't think you were getting out of here that easy, did you? Not after what you did tonight." He moves you further into the bed and sits next to you, his head against the headboard. “Come ride me, slut.”
Chris's gaze never leaves yours as he waits for you to comply. He gives your pussy another teasing stroke with his finger, making sure you know he's not done playing with you yet. "Get on top, whore. I want to see that tight little cunt of yours wrapped around my cock again."
You sit up and barely got on his lap because of how weak your legs are.
Chris smirks as you struggle to obey his command, your legs weak from all the orgasms he's given you. He takes full advantage of your weakened state, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you up to straddle his lap. He grabs your hips, sliding you onto his cock with a groan. "Fuck, just like that.”
“Oh fuck Chris.” You let out a whiny moan feeling overstimulated.
Chris chuckles darkly at your whiny moan, clearly enjoying how overstimulated you are. He holds your hips firmly, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "You like that, don't you, slut? Feeling stuffed full of my cock."
“Mmhp mmh” your mind can’t even puzzle any words to say.
Chris laughs at your incoherent moans, clearly pleased with the effect he's having on you. He picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster as he holds your hips in a vice-like grip. "Take it, whore. Take every inch of my cock like a good little slut."
“Ahhh Mmhp Chris I.. I can’t.” You moan. “Fuck im going to cum” you let out.
Chris smirks as he hears you moaning his name and begging for release. He thrusts harder and faster, determined to make you explode with pleasure again. "You're gonna cum for me again, aren't you, slut? Say my name as you cum all over my cock."
“Mmhp Chris ahh” you cum.
Chris feels your pussy clench around his cock as you cum, your juices gushing out to coat his shaft. He groans at the sensation, his own orgasm building rapidly. "Fuck, that's it, cum all over my cock like the dirty little slut you are."
Your head falls onto his shoulder, feeling overstimulated and tired.
Chris chuckles at your tired and overstimulated state. "You think you're done, huh? He smirks, still rock-hard inside you.
“Chris… im tired” you say
“Tired, mh?” He smirks and lets go of your hips. “Go ahead and get up. Slut” he says.
Feeling overstimulated and weak, you start to pull yourself up.
Just as the tip your tight pussy he slams you back down again.
You let out a scream feeling a jolt through your body.
Chris laughs at the scream, clearly enjoying your shock and pain mixed with pleasure. "That's right, scream for me, whore." He grunts, picking up the pace again. "I said take every inch of my cock like a good little slut." He thrusts his hips harder, plunging his dick deeper into your needy hole. “I'll show you what it truly means to be overstimulated, slut."
You let out whines and moans of pain and pleasure, your brain barely functioning anymore. You feel yourself close after 5 seconds. “Ahh Mmhp I-“ you squirt all over his cock.
Chris grunts as he still pounds into you, feeling you spasm around his cock, your juices spilling out over his shaft as you squirt again and again,feeling overloaded and overwhelmed. "Fuck, take it all, you dirty cum-slut," With a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and erupts, flooding your insides with his hot cum. “Get off already, slut.”
Again you start to pull your self up, and again he slams you down.
Chris smirks at you, slamming you down on his length again and again. "Just stay down there, slut. Stay juicy around my dick." Chris smirks. He's so turned on right now, he won't even leave you a moment to recover. His hands hold your hips still being deep balls inside you. “Oh fuck.” Chris growls low and dark as his cock twitches with each spurt of cum he fires into your pussy, making sure you take every last drop before pulling out, smacking your ass again.
You let out a final moan and fall onto the bed.
Chris watches as you fall back onto the bed, spent and exhausted from the relentless pounding. He smirks, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having taken you to the edge and beyond. “I hope it’s clear who you belong to.” He leans in and grabs your jaw. “You belong to me and only me. Got it?”
You nod in response feeling exhausted.
Chris gives your face a rough, possessive kiss before pulling away. He looks down at your body, still splayed out on the sheets with his cum leaking out of your used pussy. “And know you know. Every time you try to forget who l am…I'll be right there to remind you again.”
With that said pulls the bed covers over you letting you pass out. He walks to the bathroom grabbing some towels. He comes back and cleans you. Once he’s done he gives you a small forehead kiss and whispers “all mine” with a smile. He lays on the bed next to you and cuddling you up. And falls asleep…
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TYSM for 250 followers!! I’m sooo so happy and grateful ❤️
Hope you guys like this fic! This is my first Chris fic! And also first request I do
Also Ty ❤️ for 400 notes on my fic “that’s what friends are for” 💕
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Taglist: @mattstromboli @gwennysturniolo @edgemaster696 @sturnfannn @mgomez2011 @leahsbussy @xoxohlala @stvrnioloxz
(I tried tagging all that commented but idk why when I put the usernames it says ‘no blogs found’ :( sorry)
Tags 🏷️:
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dizzybizz · 9 months
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hai here is a sketch dump with too many fandoms :) sorry about the ungodly amount of men here i have been going through it and by it i mean gay
ok wait i ran out of tags??? it wont let me tag them all😭😭😭 im gonna have to be sparing with them uhh i guess i will have to ramble under the cut then cus i like rambling in my tags but i cant with this one 😭
(ok im back from the ramble: it is way too long.... proceed forward if you want to see some guy just absolutely talk nonsense for entirely too long)
no cus i swear i have tried tagging more stuff than this before and never hit the limit but whatever
hello i really use this like a fkn blog huh
i just wanted to provide some thoughts on the harper and rosé one first bc its important to me 😌 cus i was thinking abt harper and how in my head and heart of hearts she would be the kid who thought you get pregnant from kissing and i dont think she ever really grew out of that belief. <- this ended up spawning the idea of harper being a sex-repulsed ace and i will die on this hill actually. fight me or die, you die either way actually nvm
this is just a buncha blorbos i dont know what to tell you really. sketch pages like these always end up so weird for me bc for some reason my brain always wants the characters in them to interact in some way. whether that be talking or just reacting to what the other is doing... its something i cant stop with, its so stupid and silly and i hate it and i love it. where else would i see kabru slowly losing his mind with how loud phoenix wright is in court????
I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN OFF THE RAILS WITH THAT BUT THEN THE NEXT PAGE HAPPENED. and all i could do was laugh and ask "what the fuck am i drawing??? HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHY IS THISTLE HERE WITH LEOPIKA HELP" LIKE that page started with the big leopika and then i was like "man i miss thistle lemme draw him real quick" but the curse struck and now hes being homophobic so </3
i rlly like how the nic(k) page turned out ... i just have a lot of nicks i like drawing idk.. the lil guy is an oc,,, one day his ref sheet will be finished and itll be awesome but not for now, sorry baby, no can do. im weirdly happy with how the hands turned out for all of them tho?? so thats a W
yotasuke, murai, nick (youll never know which one im referring to. .. jkjk its hoult i love the pose there ehehhe), nic and the entire last page r my favs. i like em all but those rlly get me yknow- the olly too ofc but ive already posted him, dont mind him being here, hes part of the set. AND OVER ALL IVE BEEN HAVING SO FUN WITH SHADING BLACK AND JUST LEAVING SPOTS BLANK ITS SO ?`????
WHY IS THIS SO LONG PLS DONT READ ALL THIS THIS IS STRAIGHT UP EMBARRASSING AGHSDFGSDHJSGD im all like "yeah i dont like talking about myself or whatever" but as soon as i get to my process or blorbos or smth the floodgates fucking break open, not even burst man.
also dont mind how i havent even acknowledged pingas twink pokemon counterpart. hes just here for shits and giggles i dont know the guy like at all, i watched a handful of eps of horizons and that was it RIP
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caesium-55 · 6 months
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—seven days. [ iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.
masterlist.
you: *sent a link*
him: ?
him: what's this
you: benefits of crying
you: read it it's enlightening
him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay
you: why crying helps.
you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.
you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.
you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.
you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.
him: it feels like an std
you: pussy
you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.
you: you may look fine now but i know you
him: please stop
you: no
you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.
him: what even is that
you: the parasympathetic nervous system
him: ??
you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school
you: education is important yknow
you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence
him: fuck you im smart
you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography
you: you probably can't do your taxes
him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default
him: the american system is just weird
you: cant argue w/ u there
you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance
you: see? you need that
you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy
him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now
you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?
You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.
In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.
You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?
Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?
Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.
You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.
You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.
Max Max Max Super Max Max—
“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”
Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.
“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”
He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.
You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.
The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.
“Max, sweetheart, you there?”
No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.
Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.
“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.
Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.
This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.
Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.
When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.
Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.
“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.
Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”
You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.
“Max—”
“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”
What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.
You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.
“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.
“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.
“They’re mismatched.”
Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.
“Ignore them.”
Silence.
“You good now?”
“No.”
“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”
“Okay.”
Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.
“Thank you, by the way.”
“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.
“For coming here.”
You shrug.
“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”
Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.
“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”
He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.
You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.
After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.
You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.
The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.
Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.
You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.
The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.
The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.
Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.
You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.
“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”
But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.
The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.
“We should drink,” you suggest.
“It’s mid-afternoon.”
“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”
He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.
“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”
Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.
Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.
Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.
At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.
Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.
“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.
“Hm?”
“That it was unfair for her.”
You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”
“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”
You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.
“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”
Kelly….what the fuck?
“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”
“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.
Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.
“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”
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good-chimes · 1 year
Text
THE RULES OF BUTTERCUP CAMP
Rule 1: No friendly fire in the camp.
Rule 1a: NO GRAVEL, NO SAND, NO FALLING BLOCKS
Rule 1b: SCAR THIS MEANS YOU
--- I dont know What you’re talking about
--- You know exactly what I’m talking about!
Rule 1c: Grian is not allowed to make Scar strip down to his underwear on the Perimeter edge to ‘find all the sand’; this makes us look bad in front of Doc.
--- He had it in his SHOE
--- counter-rule!! Actually this makes us look GReat in front of doc. my abs intimidate him.
--- There’s no such thing as a ‘counter rule’ and your abs don’t intimidate anyone
--- mumbo agrees with me!!
--- I. Um. I just think Scar’s abs could be good PR. I’d be impressed if I were Doc.
Rule 2: All Buttercups must remember at all times that Doc is the enemy and we are here to TAKE HIM DOWN.
Rule 3: Goateater is not allowed to eat Mumbo’s pillow.
Rule 3a: we should leave GOateater alone because she’s doing her Best
--- Scar, she’s doing her best to eat my pillow!
--- this is proving resorcefullness and initive like a good Buttercup!
Rule 4: Mumbo’s cooking tastes like a camping mat and he’s not allowed on the cooking rota
Rule 5: grian cant cook us eggs for more than 2 meals in one day
Rule 6: I have to say I agree with Rule 5.
--- Mumbo needs to LEARN HOW RULES WORK
--- and also stop being RUDE about my COOKING
Rule 7: Goateater is not allowed in Mumbo’s bed under any circumstances.
--- mumbo is biased against Goateater!!
--- Then make her sleep in your bed, Scar!
Rule 8: Grian is allowed to push Scar into the Perimeter if he does the sand thing one more time
Rule 9: Grian is allowed to push Scar into the Perimeter if he refuses to put a shirt back on and is being really obnoxious about it
Rule 10: Grian is allowed to push Scar into the Perimeter if he keeps snoring at night
--- Mate, we’re getting some expansion of powers here that I’m not entirely comfortable with.
--- yknow its not tJHAT Bad
--- Okay, so, Scar, listen, just because you’ve never minded doesn’t mean Grian should be able to do what he likes. This is setting a precedent. We need to talk about this.
Rule 11: Grian is allowed to push anyone into the Perimeter for any reason necessary
--- I told you! I TOLD you!
--- Cmon Mumbo a man’s gotta have hobbies
--- Not threats-of-immediate-violence-to-his-two-closest-friends hobbies!
--- WAnt some sand?
--- I CAN LITERALLY SEE WHAT YOU TWO WRITE HERE. SCAR I AM COMING FOR YOU.
--- Good LUck :)
Rule 12: Grian is not allowed to keep stealing Mumbo’s HotGuy poster for his own tent then denying it.
Rule 12a: Grian is encouraged to get his own poster or pay Mumbo 16 diamonds.
Rule 13: Buttercups are reminded to focus their efforts on DOC and how everything is DOC’S FAULT, not SPYING ON THEIR FRIENDS about POSTERS.
Rule 14: Goateater is not allowed in Mumbo’s entire tent.
Rule 15: Goateater is allowed whrever she likes, including in MUmbos tent.
Rule 16: Scar is not allowed to write rules that contradict previous rules.
Rule 17: Mumbo is not allowed to do that either!!
Rule 17a: If Mumbo and Scar don’t stop fighting over the rules board and GET US SOME DRINKING WATER LIKE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO then Grian gets to throw them both in the Perimeter
--- I thought everything was Doc’s fault.
--- Sometimes it’s your fault, Mumbo!
Rule 18: Look, can we have some sort of punishment here that isn’t ‘Grian pushes people in the perimeter?’ Only he’s not pushing himself in the perimeter, and last night he blew up a firework experiment in the campfire and took half my moustache off.
Rule 18a: That was obviously Doc’s fault.
--- I don’t think it’s Doc’s fault if you did it yourself! In fact, you’re the reason we’re here in the first place. There’s sand in my sleeping bag and I’ve lost half my moustache and Goateater keeps eating my shoes!
--- also I gotta pointout G you never paid me for those fireworks
--- Listen, Buttercups, the rules are very clear about who’s to blame. It’s Doc’s fault.
--- That’s pretty rich coming from you, Grian!
--- also goateater is perfect and hasn’t done anything wrong
--- Shut up, Scar, this is Grian’s fault. I’m making a new rule.
Rule 19: I think we should blame Grian for everything
Rule 20: I secnd this rule
Rule 21: Oh, yeah? Well, I think we should blame SCAR for getting me BAD FIREWORKS
Rule 21a: those were top quality scarland fireworks, Mister!
Rule 22: It was Scar who technically broke the tunnel bore so he’s the reason we’re here
Rule 23: I mean, I guess—Scar, mate, you did do that.
Rule 24: I think we should blame Scar for everything
Rule 25: now wait A MINute
Rule 26: Yes, honestly, it’s mainly Scar’s fault.
Rule 27: Its not!
Rule 28: It’s either you or Grian. I think either way we can all agree I’m the innocent victim here.
Rule 29: What – okay, fine, new plan! I think we should blame MUMBO for everything!
Rule 30: yeah!
NEW RULE: MUMBO IS BANISHED FROM THE BUTTERCUP CAMP
NEW RULE: OH I AM, AM I? WELL THEN, GRIAN IS BANISHED FROM THE BUTTERCUP CAMP!
NEW RULE: OKAY! I GUESS THIS IS MY CAMP NOW! IM MOVING JELLIE INTO YOUR TENTS AND SERVS YOU BOTH RIGHT!
Rule 34: Guys?
Rule 35: …guys?
board suspended :(
Rule 36: fine I’m back
Rule 37: strewing my bed with cherry blossom wasn’t actually necessary
Rule 38: Aw, Scar, you shouldn’t have.
--- i missed you guys
--- I missed you guys too!
--- It’s been TWENTY MINUTES
--- admit it G you missed us
--- Fine I did
--- But I think I have time for a second shot
--- GRIAN
--- joking <3
Rule 39: All previous rules are suspended.
Rule 1: It’s Doc’s fault.
Rule 2: Grian is still allowed to push people into the perimeter.
--- mumbo, wheres Goateater?
--- Special mission, mate, don’t worry about it.
WHY HAS SOMETHING **EATEN** ALL MY ***CROCS***!
YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, BUTTERCUPS!!
– G.O.A.T.
p.s. Also kindly return my hotguy poster, Grian, I know that this was you
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yelloworangesoda · 5 months
Text
maxwell and sammy are all mine and i love them like my children but its pretty hard to divorce them from fnaf enough to make them straight up ocs. sammy especially bc hes technically not my oc, even if i made up every aspect about him except his name and dead twin sister
#my point being i keep seeing oc post and going ‘omg me about sammy’ but sammy isnt an oc. technically#i literally wont even change his name if i do ever just make him all mine. i love him sammy is my bff forevers.#sammy smiles real wide and has sharp canines. he cant stand silence and talks to himself CONSTANTLY and its worse around other people#he interrupts people a lot by accident. and is really bad about holding friendships and doesnt reach out to people. after he took max in it#was impossible to shut him up bc someone was actually there now. he has serious trust issues and thinks ppl dont like him bc he thinks#everyone to have some big secret theyre all collectively keeping from him to keep him ‘’safe’’ which stems from. his mom doing this to him#about his sister and dad she just straight up refused to tell him until he found out on his own. so for 11 years he knew that. they for sure#you cant just split up your family in half in a divorce. something seems incredibly wrong about that but he didnt know what actually#happened there. also they were young when she died but he still felt like a part of him went missing and without the knowledge she died he#assumed. hed see her again and fill that hole. and of course that wasnt true. so anyway he struggles to make and keep friends#hes had like 8 different partners who lasted more than a month (most of them didnt want to deal with max) and he cant keep any of them bc a#a lot of people meet this cute charming guy with a lot to say and realize hes literally like this all the time and it stops being cute and#starts being annoying. he wanted to have kids bc he really likes kids but nobody wants him unfortunately and also he had. max for 8 years#and max is for sure his kid (from his perspective max is weird about it bc max thinks of his dad. as his Parent and sammy as more of#brother) but like max was not really what he was thinking when he thought he wanted kids right. and he feels bad about thinking that but#he does. think that. he wants a kid of his own. sammy is a therapist for kids with trauma specifically so that also impacts his ability to#have a kid. he worries that. bc of his personal experience of what Can happen that he may in turn be a helicopter parent or way#overprotective. yknow. he#ive got to go to bed omg. i got enough thoughts down!!!!#simons spouting#a lot of this is just awfully written but you cant read back or edit tags on mobile. not my fault
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thatdeadaquarius · 8 months
Note
GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)
Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-
The almighty all powerful wise creator isss
✨️A literal child✨️
Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️
Baby you taking on the world aw
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DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/
Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,
Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-
I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲
Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Short Headcanons
Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment any I missed. /gen
Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.
You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀
Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child
if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you
and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)
(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)
You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes
it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest
(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)
Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food
She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3
They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you
(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)
Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol
Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…
Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you
Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out
Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol
she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her
(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)
SPEAKING OF BARBATOS
ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)
if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol
takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go
tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)
anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want
(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)
(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)
srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)
and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭
I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)
hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D
Safe Travels Anon,
💀♒
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(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit
@kiyomi-uchiha777
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