#challenge failed i can’t do it

[lovlidollie]

reader cockwarming rafe😋😋😋

of course lovely ! hope u enjoy <3

“r-rafe, please.” you’re on the brink of tears, cunt so impossibly full that you feel like you’re going to tear. you’re seated on his lap, head burrowed in his shoulder as he continues to work, completely ignoring your pitiful cries. rafe is a very busy man, he has things to do and he can’t do those things when he has a whiny little brat complaining about his lack of attention. despite his multiple attempts at trying to explain that he was occupied, you didn’t stop bothering him. you’d simply gone one step too far, saying that you’d “go find someone else.” you knew you’d fucked up when rafe stopped what he was doing and had snarled a “fuckin’ brat. get your ass over here.” he’d pulled his half-hard cock out, and with no prep, had made you sink down onto him. that was half an hour ago. you’ve leaked down onto his expensive slacks at this point, coating them in your stickiness. you feel full and so empty at the same time, you need him to move. to fuck you properly. everytime you had tried adjusting yourself, a strong hand had crept up and held your hips down, going as far as slapping your ass if you continued moving. it felt cruel and mean. your lips are wobbly and eyes glassy as you beg for rafe to do something, anything.

“thought i told you to be quiet,” he snaps against your ear. “i still got work to do ‘n you wriggling aroun’ hoping for something isn’t gonna get you anywhere. brats don’ get anythin’.” rafe pulls your head back, making you look at him. the eye contact makes you shy but he doesn’t let you move, squishing your cheeks together to keep your head in place. “‘f’you had just listened earlier you wouldn’t be in this position, would’ya, huh? ‘m doin’ this f’you. doin’ this to teach you a lesson. gotta prove t’me that y’can be good ‘n then maybe you’ll get what you want.” he pats your ass twice, as if he’s encouraging you, releases his hold over your face and lets your head flop back onto his shoulder.

by the time rafe’s finally done, you’ve wet his shirt with tears from the lack of stimulation. but apart from your quiet sniffling, and occasional twitches, you’d listened to him. you’d been good for him. you’re all hazy, brain fuzzy and there’s drool leaking from the corners of your mouth, but you manage a dopey smile when he pulls you back up. rafe smiles back at you, and if you weren’t so disoriented you’d see how hungry it was, how predatory. “there’s my girl, knew you were down there somewhere.” he strokes your face gently, rubbing your cheeks. “see, baby? not that hard to listen, hm? did good f’me, didn’t’ya? yeah, tha’s right, sweetheart, did so good for dad. deserve a reward now, c’mon. daddy’s gonna make you feel good f’bein’ good.”

[undermattsun]

18+ minors dni!!!

uh oh reader has a new skate rat to torment today <33 just another tiny bite so sadly no real fucking :( it’s mattsun btw and i made him a stupid pussy whipped bitch cus i can !!

“Damn if it isn’t my third favorite boy toy.”

“Who the hell are first and second?” He all but pouts.

“Not you, so mind your own business.” You don’t really have any favorites, and Matsukawa honestly wouldn’t be anywhere near top three let alone top five. Maybe not even top ten.

But you needed some alcohol and weed and if the payment was blowing Mattsun for all five minutes he could last then you could make it work.

“What do you want?” He rolls his eyes, stepping back to let you step into the shitty apartment he shares with a rotation of his even shittier friends.

You watch him kick the door close and cross the filthy living room to snatch a vape off a coffee table with a hole punched into it, waiting for him to look back at you.

“Missed you.” You lay it on thick, complete with fluttering lashes and honeyed tone, knowing full well that the poor dumb desperate fuck would fall right into your hands. Ever since his one that got away finally left him behind for good he’s been off his game.

“You didn’t.” To his credit he tries to shrug you off, but the crease in his brow and the way he immediately began to lean into you was enough to tell you he’s still hurting or whatever. Delectably vulnerable even.

“Issei you’re gonna hurt my feelings.” You grab at his arm, watching as he puffs on a menthol vape you recognize as Iwaizumi’s. “Let’s get high.”

“So that’s why you’re here, can’t, smoked all my shit last night.” He doesn’t look at you.

And you’d be an idiot to not take advantage of that.

“No, you didn’t.” He’s a shit liar, right there next to Kindaichi.

“I didn’t.”

“I’ll blow you.” And you know you’ve got him when you see that telling tick in his jaw.

“Let me put it in.”

“Nope.”

“Just the tip?” It’s never just the tip and both of you know that.

“That desperate?” To his credit he nods solemnly, probably too “heartbroken” to try creeping on some unsuspecting pretty little things in the club like he usually does.

You make a show of tapping your index against your chin, as if you’re really considering your options. You figured there was a chance he’d pull this move, and today you’re feeling a tad generous.

“If you can last longer than five I’ll let you put it in, raw.” You’d be impressed if he makes it to five minutes, the poor guy is clearly pent up.

“Really?”

“But either way I get whatever bottle Oikawa’s hiding in your room.” The idiot always hides his alcohol in Mattsun’s room, for some reason no one else has figured it out.

“It’s Jameson.” He winces.

“So? I’ll take it, cmon big boy let’s see if you’ll last today.” You grab his hand and make your way to his room, trying (and failing) to hide a smug grin when you shove him past the doorway.

[sapphicdib]

Okay I genuinely did not want to touch this discourse with a 10 foot pole, but seeing as I’ve gotten 3 anons harassing me about this shit I’m going to make myself clear:

My iterators’ pronouns and sexualities are my headcanons and mine alone. If you don’t like them, BLOCK ME. Don’t come into my inbox being passive aggressive TO A NONBINARY LESBIAN about who “can” and “can’t” be nonbinary or lesbian based on pronouns.

If you have genuine, good faith questions about how my iterators identify, I will be happy to answer! But don’t come onto MY blog and tell me how to tell MY stories.

I am tired of this fucking discourse and it makes me, as a nonbinary person, feel disrespected and belittled in this community.

[mazojo]

Anyways chile big brother became irrelevant once again see y’all in finale night

[walliswithawhy]

Dear Da,

It's the blasted mud that makes me feel most at home. That and the wind. It sets a chill into my bones that reminds me of home. I have been camped within sight of the ruins and, by extension, the Stormgate for a good while now. Perhaps I could charge passed this place, inwards and upwards, or if I am very careful, employ a little stealth. I think that I shan’t though, and my reasons are twofold: regarding stealth, well, it’s not a surprise to anyone that subtlety fails to be my strongest point. I blame the armour, but in this place I daren’t go without it. Mayhap if I went in a storm, but that poses as much a hindrance to my perception as it would the guards.

My second reason is by and large the greater reason: I am here to test my mettle, and if it is so fragile as to be squashed here, then I am not fit to undertake this pilgrimage. I will not delude myself into thinking that every foe that I face I will be able to circle wide around. Some will descend upon me unawares, as that horrid thing which first greeted me in this land did, some will simply be inevitable. And if I have learned but a single lesson, then it is that there is merit in facing a fight which cannot be escaped, rather than trying to forestall it. There are some things which much must come to pass.

So I must challenge these guards who stand in my path. I must overcome them, or I am not fit to move on.

My new companion seems deeply unimpressed by this stubbornness, but perhaps I am simply projecting. The beast which was granted to me by the mysterious lady who also offered to be… a guide to me, in exchange for me to be an escort to her (seems odd that she should need one, given her ability to manifest out of thin air and give any poor soul a fright liable to petrify their own heart, but who am I to question the oddness of this place—sometimes I wonder that it is not some grand dream for it feels as disjointed and ethereal as one sometimes) is perfectly intelligent but cannot communicate with me—

(Here there is a smear of charcoal as if the the writer fumbled terribly, followed by a small, darkish red brown stain)

Blasted winged wretches! They’ll be the bane of me yet. The biggest bats I’ve ever seen, and they like to dive in and try to rip my head from my shoulders. Foul things, they’ll think twice when I take their heads off their shoulders.

But I must rest. I challenge a Knight of no middling skill tomorrow. I wonder that I do not see some exasperation in their stance now, when they see me stand in their path. Then again, I suppose I would feel much the same if I were to be incessantly pestered by one with such a propensity for weed-like behaviour. But in their ability with a weapon and their brutality, they have much to teach me, and I will take every lesson that I am offered if it hones me into a sharper blade.

Sincerely, Wallis

First | Next

[patroqlus]

i finished my call down the hawk reread!! now im off to read mister impossible for the first time 🙈

[letterstotheflre]

swifties understand that relationships can end on friendly terms and no one has to cheat or be the bad guy challenge

[rpf-bat]

*sigh* I’m trying to remind myself to be happy for others instead of comparing myself to them.

[rinii-beanii]

Sketches

[cetoddle-archive]

i was feeling better..and then i got in trouble at work for things that weren’t even my fault..,,and now i just wanna kill myself again 🤩🤩

[salemlunaa]

STOP WITH THE NEEDINESS ❦

wanna shift? let me put you out of your misery

This is the only method you need to induce pure consciousness/ tap into the “I AM”/ tap into the void:

relax, deep breathing

affirm “I AM”

relax some more

detach, get lost in the darkness of your closed eyes

you’re done, you’ve shifted

there are no if ands or buts, there’s no “i was so close”, “it just doesn’t work for me”. this method cannot fail, there is no such thing, at all, it’s you who focuses too much on the symptoms, it’s you gets upset when “nothing happens” before rolling over to go to sleep just to endure another day in your shitty reality. it’s you who fails to see your own potential and it’s only you who can change that

this is the basic method that works for anyone with a conscious and subconscious mind,

it’s not anyone’s fault that you’ve decided to overcomplicate it

that’s the basic fucking template you don’t need shit but yourself

stop with the neediness it’s getting kinda pathetic

You dont need to follow some stupid 10k affirmation challenge

You don’t need to follow any challenges lasting weeks

You don’t need subliminals or waves or a guided meditation

You don’t need to ask bloggers the same shit and vent about how you “just can’t do it”

You don’t need to lucid dream

You don’t need any of this

again the basic template is only difficult to you because of the over-complication of it all

Let me give you an example: Imagine you’re a baker and there’s this iconic legendary baker who has this incredible, world famous cake, they give the world a recipe to it and it’s quite simple. how can such a simple recipe impress the taste buds of so many? it doesn’t matter about the how or why, it just does. But so many bakers around the world, including you, are scared of not impressing their customers so they add all this other shit to the recipe that was perfectly fine. And it just makes everything so complicated, all because they don’t trust that the original recipe will be able to impress and satisfy their customers.

That basic recipe is the “method” that Neville gave to us, he didn’t have tumblr, he didn’t have youtube to binge fucking yoga nidra meditation videos. He didn’t have a phone to inhale subliminal after subliminal like it’s a full time job. He didn’t have bloggers shoving 10k challenges down his throat, and guess what, he was just fine! Stop overcomplicating the recipe, all you need is the mind. You don’t need a fucking routine, all you need is you

But I know there are some people who will look at this, scroll past and still scan their feed, scrambling for an “instant method” like some junky. And to that i say, go ahead, waste your days overcomplicating the act of shifting consciousness, waste your days overconsuming, doomscrolling, complaining. The law and the art of shifting was always real and will continue to be real while you sit there with absolutely nothing, so go ahead. Rack your brain to the point of a headache, to the point of insanity trying to understand what’s right infront of you, you’re only doing yourself harm.

shifting consciousness/ the “I AM” state/ the void is a basic ability, it’s like breathing, just fucking do it

IT’S A BASIC ABILITY, YOU DONT NEED POINTERS 🎀💋

[malachitezmeyka]

If you’ve never wrestled with yourself for four hours straight practically begging yourself to go eat because yes, you don’t feel hungry now, but you haven’t eaten since breakfast so in the morning you’ll be completely miserable, then that is an experience I absolutely do not recommend

[rafecameronssl4t]

My say || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: an argument between reader and rafe about having a nanny for your son.

Warnings: heavy angst!!! Mentions of breastfeeding

Word count: 1,283

A/n: I hope this kinda gvives you a better insight of what reader x rafe's relationship is like!! I AM SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE WRITING FOR THIS AU!!! send thru any requests you might have :)

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Y/n, you can’t be serious,” Rafe says, his voice laced with disbelief as he stares at you, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking. But your expression remains unyielding, eyes steady as you readjust Leo in your arms, his small hands clutching at you as he feeds. “I’m serious,” you say, your tone casual as you shrug, though the gravity of your words lingers heavily between you.

The tension in the room is palpable. Rafe scoffs, a bitter sound escaping his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. Without another word, he pushes himself up from the couch, his movements stiff with frustration. He crosses the room with purposeful strides, heading straight for the bar cart. The clink of the whisky bottle against the glass is sharp in the silence, followed by the harsh slam of the glass hitting the cart, the sound echoing through the stillness of the room.

“He hasn’t even turned one yet, and you’re already considering leaving him in the care of someone we don’t even know?” Rafe’s voice is strained with disbelief, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to grasp your logic. . “What is this really about? You want more time for yourself? To get your hair and nails done, meet up with your friends, take boat rides?” His voice is laced with incredulity, each word carrying a mix of accusation and frustration as if he can’t believe you would even consider such a thing.

“You want to hand him over to a stranger—someone who doesn’t know his little habits, his cries, the way he needs to be held to fall asleep?” Rafe’s words tumble out in a rush, his voice thick with a blend of incredulity and concern. It’s as if he can’t even comprehend how you could entertain the idea, the very thought seeming impossible to him.

You let out a soft, disbelieving snort, shaking your head. “And you do, Rafe? You think you know him better than anyone else?” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you meet his gaze, your eyes daring him to challenge you. “When was the last time you were the one pacing the floor at 3 in the morning, trying to calm him down? When have you spent hours figuring out his cries, trying to understand what he needs?”

Rafe stares at you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “You’re his mother—” But before he can finish, you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “And I’m trying, Rafe! I’m trying so hard, but it never feels like enough. I can’t seem to get it right, no matter what I do.” Your voice cracks as the weight of your words hangs between you, the raw vulnerability in your tone cutting through the tension like a knife.

“I’m 21, for heaven’s sake!” you exclaim, your frustration boiling over. “I’m still figuring this out, and every day feels like a battle. I’m doing my best, but it’s like I’m constantly failing.” The words spill out in a rush, your voice wavering with the pressure of trying to live up to expectations that feel impossible to meet.

Rafe’s eyes narrow as he leans forward, his voice biting, “Don’t sit there and pretend you weren’t raised for this,” Rafe says, his voice cold and cutting. “You knew from the moment your parents arranged this marriage that your role was to be a mother. They didn’t raise you to chase dreams or find yourself—they raised you to bear children, to fulfill your duty as a wife. So don’t act like this is some surprise or burden you weren’t prepared for.”

You feel a sharp pang in your chest as Rafe’s harsh words sink in, his coldness taking you by surprise. For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than you expected. You roll your eyes, more out of defense than annoyance, trying to push the hurt aside. Exhaling slowly, you steady yourself, refusing to let him see how much his words have affected you.

“Leo will have a nanny,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel. “This isn’t up for debate.” The words come out with a finality that leaves no room for argument, though the hurt lingers beneath your resolve. “End of conversation.” Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration boiling over into raw anger.

“No, he will not!” he snaps, his voice sharp and intense. “I won’t have a stranger looking after our son—my son!” His words are a burst of anger, his eyes blazing as he struggles to contain the fury coursing through him. You roll your eyes again, your patience wearing thin as Rafe's anger fuels your own frustration.

“You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you retort, trying to keep your tone steady despite your mounting irritation. “In my family, we all had nannies before we were even four months old—” But before you can finish, Rafe’s voice rises in a harsh yell that slices through your words. “This is our family, Y/N!” he shouts, his frustration exploding into full-blown anger.

“Our family! Not just yours. We don’t have to raise our children the way your parents did!” His voice echoes with the force of his rage, the intensity of his glare adding to the weight of his outburst. His voice reverberates off the walls, filling the room with a palpable tension as Leo starts to fuss.

His soft whimpers quickly escalate into full-blown cries, the sound piercing through the charged atmosphere. You flinch at the noise, your heart tightening with a mix of anger and frustration. “Will you lower your voice?” you snap, your own frustration surfacing as you hastily adjust your top, trying to soothe Leo by bouncing him gently in your arms.

Rafe runs a hand through his buzz cut, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh. His shoulders are tense as he plants his hands on his hips, watching you with a mixture of frustration and disbelief while you struggle to soothe Leo. “Look what you’ve done,” you say sharply, your voice cracking with frustration as you glare at him. “He was perfectly calm before you started yelling.”

Rafe’s eyes flash with irritation as he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, blame it all on me,” he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns and heads towards the door, clearly ready to escape the charged atmosphere. As he walks past you, you reach out and grip his arm, the strength in your hold betraying your desperation.

He stops and looks down at you, his expression softening slightly as he registers the plea in your eyes. “Please, just don’t argue with me right now,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “Leo will be better off with someone who knows what they’re doing.” The earnestness in your plea hangs heavy in the air, cutting through the tension.

Rafe takes a deep breath, the anger in his eyes giving way to a more contemplative look. “I get to choose who the nanny is,” he says, his voice still firm but less harsh. You nod slowly, a quiet resignation in your expression as you release his arm, allowing him to leave.

[oneirataxia-girl]

For the ship template ask game: Lynelda x Merlin, please??

@dancingsunflowers-ocs 💖💜💙

lynelda x merlin?? do you mean the most angsty couple in the history of alvita’s ships?? yes i do think you mean that lynelda x merlin

[moonlightcreek]

o|-<

[fastandcarlos]

Taxi Driver : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: with his car in the garage, lando relies on you to get him home, much to the delight of his teammates in papaya

You honked the car horn as you noticed the door of the MTC opening up as Lando walked out, laughing and joking with a few other members of the McLaren team as they finished up for the day. 

“See you guys in a bit,” Lando shouted out, walking away from the rest of the group when he spotted your car parked up, hidden at the back of the car park away from the rest of the cars around. 

“Where are you going?” Oscar shouted back at him. 

Lando tried his best to keep walking, but the rest of the team didn’t stop looking at him. They were suspicious as Lando tried to brush them aside, with some of them looking, and failing, to spot where his car was either, the spot that he usually claimed vacant. 

You watched on from your car, confused as to why Lando wasn’t moving into your direction, soon spotting Oscar in front of a group of them, sinking down in your seat to make sure that none of them saw you. 

“How did you get here this morning?” One of the engineers asked Lando, smirking across at Lando began to get a little unsettled, keen to get over to him. 

His question had the rest of them looking around too, trying to piece together the clues that they were spotting that something wasn’t quite right with Lando. 

“I got dropped off,” he told them, taking a few more steps in your direction, only for the rest of them to take a step too, keen to see where Lando was going. 

“Who dropped you off all the way over here?” 

Lando’s heart continued to race, moving back away from your car to keep you hidden. He continued to pushed for details, none of them willing to let him go without probing him. 

“Did you go home last night?” Oscar asked him, “or did you get a lift from the person whose house you stayed in?” 

There was a nervous silence from Lando, his eyes momentarily glancing in the direction of your car. It didn’t take long before some of them picked up on who was behind the wheel, several cheers coming from them. 

“You’ve got your girlfriend picking you up!” Will called out, walking over to Lando and throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Look at you go Norris!” 

“She’s waiting, I’d just like to head home now please.” 

Lando started walking towards your car, but he had plenty of followers behind him too, unable to stop themselves from teasing him and playing with him. 

“Tell them to go away,” Lando chuckled as he opened up your car door, eyes asking you to help him out and get his team off of his back. 

You took your seatbelt off and climbed out to a chorus of shouts, with Oscar making sure that he was by far the loudest of them all. 

Despite it being his second season, Lando was still very much the newbie at McLaren and on the receiving end of many jokes. As much as he wanted to get in and drive away with you, he secretly loved being teased by them all and feeling as if he was part of the team. 

“Were you just going to hide from all of us?” Oscar challenged, placing his hands on his hips as he sassily looked across at you. “Weren’t even going to come and say hello?” 

Your eyes rolled at how dramatic he was before you. “Funnily enough Piastri, I didn’t drive all the way over here just to say hello to you, I’ve got much better things to do instead.” 

“I’m so offended, I’ll have you know I’m so much better than your boyfriend.” 

Before you could reply, Lando got in there first and hit Oscar against his arm. Lando then slid his bag off of his arm, throwing it in the back of your car before walking around to the passenger side and opening up the door. 

“You can’t leave so soon,” Oscar grinned, but you both shook your heads, getting into either side of the car and closing the doors behind you before Oscar could speak again, with Lando hurrying you to turn the ignition on. 

“I’m sorry about him,” Lando told you, slowly placing your foot down as the team moved away, several of them waving as you drove off just to try and embarrass Lando one more time before you headed back home. 

“They enjoy messing with you,” you laughed across at Lando, “they must be jealous they have to drive themselves home.” 

Lando hummed in agreement with you, “I could get quite used to having my own personal taxi driver coming to pick me up every day.” 

Your eyes rolled as you focused on the road, driving around the side of the building and up the driveway, catching glimmers of the sun heating the water out of the corner of your eye. 

A line of cars started to stream out behind you as you headed out, the team following behind you. “I feel a bit of pressure driving now knowing that there’s a line of racing drivers and racing experts behind me now,” you laughed as Lando glanced back too. 

“I’d drive slowly just to really annoy them and get them back for trying to humiliate me,” Lando suggested, watching as your smile turned up in reply to his idea.  

“How much do you think it would annoy them if I went down on the brake?” 

“Let’s try it,” Lando grinned, especially as he looked back and noticed that it was Oscar's car that was the one closest to you, watching you closely.  

You slowed your car right down, deciding to take the next corner nice and slow, glancing through the mirror to see the sudden braking that happened behind you. 

“He’s already getting irritated,” Lando chuckled, keeping is eye on Oscar through the reflection as he threw his arms up as if to ask what you were playing at.  

“What are we doing?” You grinned, taking a look for yourself as Oscar’s eyes rolled in frustration at the slow speed that you were going down the road. 

It didn’t take long before Lando’s phone buzzed in his pocket, glancing down to see Oscar’s name at the top of the screen. 

“Hello?” He innocently chimed down the phone as he answered the call. “You shouldn’t be on the phone whilst driving, I could get you in a lot of trouble.” 

“I don’t think you can call the speed that we’re moving at driving,” Oscar shouted down the phone, “you two better hurry up or I’ll drive you into the water.” 

“As long as you promise never to tease me for being picked up again,” Lando replied, much to Oscar’s disapproval. 

A groan came from down the phone, “I promise to never tease you for being picked up,” Oscar reluctantly told him.  

“See you tomorrow,” Lando laughed as you put your foot back down again, creating a gap between you and Oscar’s car. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “now I understand why you enjoy annoying Oscar, it’s actually quite fun.” 

“It’s my favourite part of the job!” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑���𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗