#this just popped into my head for whatever reason

[hrrtshape]

FAME DR — moments, in which i knew, i’ve made it. 

⋆  hearing my song at a random café – i’m just vibing, sipping an espresso, and suddenly my voice floats through the speakers. people around me are humming along, totally unaware that it’s…..ME!!!! me!!!??

⋆  seeing my face on a billboard in times square – i’m there with friends, acting all casual, but inside i’m screaming because it’s just… me. huge. in times square. 

⋆  getting DMs from celebrities i used to fangirl over – notifications blow up, and there’s that blue check, THEM, sliding into my DMs saying they’re obsessed with my new song or film or whatnot want to meet up.

⋆  having a designer send me clothes with a handwritten note – just open a package to find an exclusive jacket with a note: “this piece is so you. can’t wait to see you wear it.” WHAT?

⋆  walking into a room and people literally gasping – at a party or event or literally just a whatever place, and the whole place goes quiet for a beat when i walk in. heads turning, whispers starting—everyone is in awe. okay, beyonce. okay…

⋆  finding fan art of myself online – fans post these breathtaking drawings and edits, capturing every tiny detail of an outfit, facial expressions, and they’re actually better than anything an official team could come up with. 

⋆  watching paparazzi chase after me in a cute outfit – i just.. step out, dressed, and suddenly there’s a whole crew of photographers losing their minds trying to get shots of. 

⋆  hearing my voice as someone’s ringtone in public – walking in the streets, chilling, and someone’s phone goes off with my song. 

⋆  a little kid dressed as yours truly for halloween – like, full-on little diva mode and their parents are so proud of their mini-star!!!!!! internal screaming.

⋆  seeing fans camped out with signs hours before an event – i’m arriving, and there’s personalised signs. i feel like madonna or someone. like, people like me that much!!!! me!!!! 

⋆  seeing a poster of me in someone’s room — it can be super casual; film or one of those music posters but they still have it in their rooms?? on their walls??? 

⋆  hearing other artists name-drop me in their interviews – people i’ve perhaps looked up to, who inspired me, are now saying things like, “well, I’d love to work with her; she’s killing it right now.” it’s giving favourite artist’s favourite artist !!!!

⋆  my favourite high-fashion brand using my song in their runway show – watching videos of the models walking to my beat during paris fashion week. It's iconic. it's cinematic. it’s unreal. it makes me squeal for a bit. just a bit.

⋆  random people copying my hairstyles and outfits – i go on instagram and tik tok to find tutorials on how to get my curls, my makeup, or even my attitude. fashion style. body type?! oh my god. i’m a BLUEPRINT!!! 

⋆  fans quoting my interviews back to me – they remember all of those cheesy one-liners and even throw them back in comments and in person. 

⋆  being the reason someone starts making music or art – a fan gushing, saying, “i only started singing because of you.” 

⋆  catching people on the metro secretly taking photos of me – i’m reading or vibing with a friend, and i glimpse at someone trying to snap a photo discreetly. i get that little downturned smile because?? hello?? COME HERE I DON’T BITE??

⋆  fans running entire accounts just for paparazzi photos – i find out about multiple fan pages dedicated to catching and sharing every single glimpse of me, from coffee runs to red carpet shots. wild. also very smile-inducing.

⋆  people naming their pets after me – i hear fans saying they have a dog, cat, or even a fish named after me. it’s cute, and it makes me feel like i’ve officially entered pop culture.

⋆  meeting someone who cries when they see me – they’re sobbing, overwhelmed, and i’m trying to hold their hands, saying, “it’s okay, it’s okay, oh my god, stop crying, i’m going to start crying!!” 

⋆  being used as stantwt gif’s — okay. yea, i’ve made it. no comment.

⋆  people selling out an outfit as soon as i wear it – i wore a certain dress, and boom, it’s immediately sold out everywhere. i’m officially. officialy setting trends without even trying.

⋆  fans knowing my coffee order by heart – people are out there replicating my exact coffee order and sharing recipes, so everyone can feel a little more like me??. spreading soy milk propaganda <3 

⋆  being an inspiration behind fan tattoos – people are getting my quotes, my NAME, or even my films or albums inked on their bodies. okay. OKAY….wow.? 

⋆  people taking photos at places just because i’ve been there – spots i’ve casually visited are suddenly iconic locations for fans, and they recreate my exact poses.

⋆  finding out my song were played at someone’s wedding – it’s their special day, and my voice is part of their love story??? 

⋆  getting letters from people who say i’ve changed their lives – fans sending handwritten letters, saying how i saved them, made them stronger, or helped them believe in themselves. <3 :( :) (:AWE. 

⋆  noticing my name carved on trees – i’m literally engraved in people’s memories and spaces. can i cry now? 

[wizzdot]

Sunshine

Chapter 3

Description: where the hell did this motivation come from?! Anyway. Ray gets some background added here, also soon to be reunited with some old friends, if you can call them that, of hers. Hint: they’re Mexican…

You shouldn’t have hesitated. Should have marched straight on out while you still had the chance. But he had called you by your name. It still catches you off guard. You much prefer to be detached from people, you like the unfamiliarity of Ray, or better yet, sergeant, soldier, or whatever the hell your higher ups wanted to call you.

“Please, y/n, wait..” he tries again. You close your eyes at the sound of your name, once again, caught off guard. “Let me explain.. please..”

“Don’t start begging, Garrick” you murmur, not turning around, scared that if you make eye contact with him, he might sway you.

“Give us a chance. C’mon. For old time’s sake, huh? We were always a good team, me and you.. once you get to know the oth”—

“Stop right there. Don’t go any further” you warn, still not facing him, but holding up a hand in a signal to halt his rambling.

“You left, moved on to bigger and better things.. I get that, Gaz, I do, and well done for that.. but I was left in the dirt, remember? Called in to help provide extra support for your op. My entire unit was wiped from existence within hours. And you expect me to come skipping back into the fray, with a team of strangers, might I add, who already have prior reason not to trust me, and expect me to put my neck on the chopping board..?”

Kyle looks taken aback by your outburst, gulping slightly. “No.. no, it’s not like that.. and, I’m not a stranger, am I?” he says with a hopeful smile.

“Aren’t you?” you reply, with a bite. Kyle inhales sharply, clearly upset by your mean words.

“..you’ve changed” he speaks now, quietly. Your stomach drops, it sounded more like he was accusing you.. it didn’t feel good. It felt like you were letting him, hell - everyone, down.

Really? Hadn’t noticed your brain supplies, but doesn’t verbalise. You just scoff at his statement instead, trying not to let it eat you alive.

“When we first met, when we were sixteen, seventeen?.. you were happier.. nicer” yeah, that’s a low blow, Garrick... “you were proud to be serving. I remember thinking ‘wow she’s one of the good ones’.. y’know? Not one of the pricks that join as a dick measuring contest, but someone who wanted to make a different. Try to save lives, and do the right thing…”

You listen to Kyle, his words actually starting to make inroads into breaking down the wall you’d built. No, don’t let him in!!

“I was ignorant” you mutter.

“No, you weren’t”

“I was stupid” you rebut, quickly.

“Definitely weren’t. You’re were the smartest of all of us. Still are, probably” Kyle argues.

“Fine whatever.. I’m not like that anymore. The me from before.. she’s misshapen and deformed. She’s gone. There’s no coming back from that.”

“Nah, she’s still there somewhere..the fact you’re still standing there, listening to me, tells me otherwise..” damn you, Garrick.

As if on cue, the bitch nurse from the front desk pops her head through the door. “Time’s up” she snips.

“I was just leaving anyway” you snap back, stepping forward to leave the room. You expect Kyle to pipe up from behind you, try to convince you to stay. But he stays silent. That’s weird. Why do I want to look? Why is my head turning without my consent?

You look back. Stupid bitch, why did I look back?! Your eyes are instantly drawn to his. He is looking right back at you, with strength and determination in his eyes. He gives you a single nod. “I’ll see you later, Ray”.

Will you? You sound so sure about that..?

Fucking Kyle Garrick! That boy had managed to wear you down. You’d spent so long building up those walls, convincing yourself that you weren’t a soldier anymore, convincing yourself that you were out. For good. Why then, were your feet matching you straight back towards the Captain’s office?

You barge through, not going to the bother of knocking. The three men, who were clearly in the thick of a heated discussion, go silent, and stare at you. You take three strong steps up to the Captain’s desk, slamming both hands against the wood, loudly.

“You have about two minutes to explain why I’m here, what you want from me, and why you’ve kept tabs on me for years” you growl at the Captain, who looks completely calm, as is this was normal for him.

“Awkt, see! Telt you the lassie would come around tae the idea!” the Scottish voice laughs, in the silence of the office.

You spin, like a beast possessed, marching toward the mo-hawked man, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, shaking him up slightly.

“And YOU, have about two seconds, to shut the fuck up, or get the fuck out. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but if you keep talking to me, or about me, you’ll find out what my fuckin’ fist feels like..” his mouth snaps shut, and he nods, in an almost childlike way.

The masked Lieutenant just grumbles a short chuckle, and stays silent.

You return to Price’s desk and raise an eyebrow, checking your watch dramatically (totally ignoring the fact that your wrist was not clad in a watch whatsoever)

“Minute and a half left, captain. Better start taking..” you warn.

“Alright, soldier, listen up. I tried to take both you and Garrick at the same time. Red tape bullshit stopped me from doing that. I went to the higher ups and by the time I was cleared to take you, you’d been absorbed into another unit. We were busy on ops and time ran away from me. Gaz kept on nagging me to get onto Laswell, but all I kept hearing was that you were deployed, over seas, on leave and so on..”

You listen, in silence, hunched over his desk, the anger that had been radiating off of you, slowly, ever so slowly, dissipating.

“Anyway, when your unit crossed paths in Russia, I had planned to bring the transfer up to Laswell upon completion, seeing as you were finally right there, in front of us. I don’t think anyone expected it to end the way it did. We were fed bad intel, the mission was a bust. You know as well as I do, you were all wiped. We only just made it out, Shepherd somehow weaselled his way out as well, not even a scratch on the old bastard” Price scoffs, clearly not a fan of Shepherd.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it went wrong.. really..” he apologises. I look at my boots, and gulp.

“30 seconds left..” I grit out, trying not to show emotion.

“We circled back, covered the dead zones. You weren’t there. We assumed.. you were killed. Gaz wouldn’t leave it, though. At the very least, that boy wanted to bury a body. But there was nothin’ to be found of you apart from a smashed up pistol, that Garrick insisted was yours. I must admit, I didn’t understand why he was so adamant about you. You were a stranger to the rest of us, after all..”

“To cut a long story short, we’ve needed someone with your skillset for a few years. I would have given you a contract the day of the ceremony, but.. we know what happened. I saw it, that day, our first face to face conversation, that you needed a break. You needed time to cool off. I didn’t know Garrick had a tracker in his wallet. Not until he told me a few months later. I thought you’d reach out. Us soldiers, even when we promise that we’re out for good, we crawl back, hell or high water. When you didn’t surface, after a year, I asked Laswell to check on you.. to make sure you hadn’t…”

“Wishful thinking..” you interrupt, solemnly joking at the fact they’d thought you’d topped yourself.

The captain’s jaw ticks at your dark humour, but he continues anyway. “I have a few pieces of intel that we need to follow. We are headed to Mexico, within the week, could do with a sniper and Spanish speaker.. I want you to be a member of Taskforce 1-4-1. I want you to understand, though, that this team is my family. We would bleed and die for each other. If you join, that extends to you. Understood?”

“………”

[minnows-wc-blog]

MOONMOON 4 LIFE

[ID: A small cartoonishly drawn Moonpaw is gazing happily at the moonpool, a bright swirl of colors and stars in the vague shape of a heart, while blushing. Moonpaw is a heavily mottled black and beige cat with corrosponding yellow and blue eyes. Above Moonpaw and the Moonpool is the text: “You’re the brightest star I see tonight!” The text is multi colored with a white glowing affect behind it. The background of the entire piece is a dark purple-blue with faded pink sparkles. “Camp” might be a dull work to describe the image.]

[medicinemane]

Everyone's against cringe culture and shit like that, but pretty much everyone seems to have an arbitrary line they draw in the sand

I'm not talking concrete lines where like you have some quantifiable metric for it. You think I don't have lines? Of course I do, there's stuff that's blatantly stuff that causes direct harm to people, though at that point it's not about someone being weird, it's about someone doing actual bona fide harm

But that's the thing, a lot of people it's just they'll be like "no, we shouldn't make fun of people... but this person's being weird"

And it's like... you can say anyone's being weird. If that's where we draw the line then literally there's no reason for people not to make fun of you for innocent but slightly weird shit, and we're right back where we started

"Yeah, but this person's being weird", yeah, not shit, I think they're weird too but like... that's not the point, that's irrelevant. The point is that you can't just shift the rules. If it's wrong to shit on some people for being weird, it's wrong to shit on any people for being weird. You need to produce some quantifiable bad they're doing like say... going in to strangers in boxes to say stuff that makes them uncomfortable, now we've got a clear reason why what they're doing isn't ok

Though to be clear here, they're still not bad for being weird, they're bad for their other actions

Like... I don't want to give an actual examples, cause it honestly doesn't matter, but do you think I don't browse the internet and find all kinds of stuff where I think "could you fucking not"?

...but then I move on cause it's honestly not worth my fucking time. Either there's an actionable offense that needs reporting or I can just move on (or a need to change things so certain destructive or dangerous behaviors can be reported, though that requires being able to say why this needs to be a thing in concrete terms)

Just... I don't know... drives me nuts how people, including people I like, will talk a big game about cringe culture needing to die, but then do the exact same shit

"But you don't get it, this time they we're being too weird, it was creepy", yeah, but they weren't actually hurting anyone, and guess what? There's someone out there who'd be happy to use that excuse to shit on you

So there it is

[avidlylivid]

so many swag epic awesome tmnt iterations (/gen /pos) and then I realise I Have Not Solidified Mine

anyways need to actually make the au premise other than random fun facts about them and their dynamics then come up with a name and then :3 the guys !!!

[snekdood]

probably my greatest strength is getting out of suicidal episodes by myself.

[reblog-house]

I am so desperately trying to sleep but I can't stop giggling. Why am I always like this with my blorbos. At least if it were a crush or hell, a squish, it'd make sense. But no. I am just. I just go very giggly and kick-feet and hehehehe.

[brutalmasks]

@facesblind asked: ❛  are you always so competitive?  ❜

there is a certain simple pleasure in playing games with others. and due to the fact that it seemed like neither of them had much else to do at the moment, but wait for their bus to come around; bunny mask had decided to suggest that her and fate play something she'd bought recently. uno — a card game that destroys friendships, allegedly, though she honestly didn't have a clue why. bunny was having a lot of fun playing it with the other after all. and this was to the point where she'd say that it was actually helping to forge at least an acquaintanceship between the two of them. however, bunny mask had to acknowledge that she might've been a bit biased, because she was currently winning.

people seemed to play it differently, she'd learned from fate, as some liked to make it a rule that they could stack quote unquote 'plus fours' on top of other plus fours and sometimes even stack plus two's on top of those. bunny mask was playing it according to the first parts rules as of now and she was having one hell of a lucky streak for whatever reason. she just had one card left, in fact, and although it wasn't a card where she could change the color to blue (the card that she had at that moment)... it was only a matter of time before bunny mask claimed her victory in her mind. she was practically brimming over with excitement as she watched fate put down another card, thinking maybe this was her chance to win. but it was sadly green.

bunny mask kept a poker face though and reached out for another card, only to lay it on top of the other's. she shot the other an endearing smile then, ❝ mm, well, this is the first time that i have played this game. but i have always had a strong desire to win in situations like these where there is a clear opponent. so, i suppose the answer to that is 'yes,' ❞ bunny nodded and gripped onto the bench they were sitting on out of anticipation as she waited for the other to make her move. it was a good idea for her to purchase this game, she thought, because tyler seemed to be quite competitive himself. which would probably result in them just enjoying themselves while playing it together even more.

bunny mask carefully watched the other put down her card and was almost tempted to let her lip frown in disappointment due to it not being blue. but bunny supposed being patient was also part of the game, her free hand reaching out to take a card from the deck, and then another whenever it wasn't the color required. she placed the color-changing card she got on top, ❝ blue. say, you are having fun yourself, yes? because i would not want to continue if i am making you feel frustrated, ❞ bunny let her blaring white eyes meet the others as she asked fate this question. even though she was really close to winning, it wouldn't feel right if bunny did it while the other wasn't having a good time. or that's how she viewed things anyway.

[seventh-district]

tag limit my beloathed... continuing my analysis of my potentially Sun x Moon coded ships here ↓

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46

“Do you have dimples?”

Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.

For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.

“Hah?”

“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.

His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).

“Why the hell are you asking?”

“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.

He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”

“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.

Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.

He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.

“What happens if you win the bet?”

“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.

That’s a lot, he thought.

“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”

“There’s no fun in that!”

He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”

“He gets 3000 yen.”

Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.

He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”

“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.

He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.

“Tch. Whatever.”

You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”

He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.

“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”

“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.

He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.

You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.

“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”

“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.

“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”

“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with. 

Less hassle for him.

He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).

You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”

That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.

“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”

There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.

Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.

“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”

“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”

“Hey wait— You—“

He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.

He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.

Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”

He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.

Could you imagine how furious he was?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[castielfucks]

not sure how to feel about this new brand of comedy where you have to buy tickets to watch someone read memes/comics from a screen. am I missing something. am I an old man yelling at cloud. being gen.

[thestarmaker]

Was so sleepytired at work yesterday that I started to derealize for the first time in a while so. That was fun

[obsesssedblerd]

“SATORU!!!” 

Your white-haired boyfriend pops around the corner. “Yes? Why on earth are you screaming?” 

You fearfully point at the roach scampering up the living room wall, nervously hiding behind him. “That.” 

“Uh...What am I looking at here?” 

“Oh, don’t act— the bug, Toru!” You yell. “You mean to tell me that you can’t see that thing with your Six Eyes?!” 

Satoru lifts his blindfold, then looks back and forth between you and the insect. A wide, incredulous smile spreads across his face. “No way,” he snickers, then bursts into loud laughter. “That tiny little thing?! Baby, you exorcize curses daily, but this is what you’re afraid of?!” You stare at him blankly as he leans against the wall, breathless from laughing. Oh, my god, this is too funny.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you just kill it, please?”

He sighs dramatically, then pokes your cheek. “Sure, I’ll take care of the big scary bug,” he mocks, and you curse underneath your breath as he walks closer to the wall. 

“Satoru—you better not do anything stupid,” you warn him. You know that he enjoys playing jokes, and you would be stupid to think that he wouldn’t bring the insect to you to scare you even more.

“Oh, relax. Why don’t you go to the room since you’re so scared?” 

You bite back any insults, and then go all the way down the hall. There, you find your other boyfriend, Suguru, who had rushed out of the bathroom, his hair wet from the shower. “Heard you scream. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I saw a bug in the living room, but Satoru’s taking care of it.” You reach up to push a wet strand of hair out of his face. “You can head back and finish up. By the way, for dinner, I was thinking—” 

“HOLY SHIT!!!” 

You and Suguru see the burst of crimson light from the living room before the loud explosion fills your ears. The house shakes, and both of you stumble to the ground. When everything settles, Suguru helps you up, then you both rush to the living room. 

What’s left of the living room. 

The wall is completely gone, and where there isn’t rubble from the house, there are bits and pieces of your furniture. From where you’re standing, you can see some of the neighbors begin to poke their heads out of their doors and windows, wondering what the explosion was. Then, you see Satoru, who is wide-eyed, and slightly trembling. 

Suguru is the first to break the silence. “What the hell just happened?!” 

Satoru’s chest rises and falls with each breath. He then turns to you, pointing at where the wall used to be. “You didn’t tell me that it flies.” 

“...Huh?!” You ask.

“What- Don’t ‘huh’ me!” He sputters, flailing his hands around. “The roach! You didn’t tell me that it flies! It scared the shit out of me! It was so unexpected!!” 

Finally, the only thing that could’ve happened clicks in your head. The light you saw, the blast. “Did you just fire Red?!” 

He crosses his arms. “Yes, I fired Red!! Didn’t you just hear me say that—” 

“Okay, both of you, just stop!” Suguru shouts, putting his hands up. “Just…” He then faces his boyfriend, disbelief and disappointment evident in his features. “You mean to tell me, that you blew a massive hole in our damn house all because of a roach?! Satoru, what the hell!!” 

“Suguru, it was flying!!” 

“So that’s a good reason to destroy our house?!” 

“Hey! At least it’s not the whole house,” he says, then laughs nervously when Suguru glares at him. “Like yeah, our TV is definitely gone, but, uh… at least the roach is dead?” 

“You fucking idiot!!” Suguru snaps. 

Satoru snaps right back at him. “You weren’t there to see how it was flying!” 

As they go back and forth with their yelling, you groan, burying your face into your hands. You definitely should’ve just found the strength to kill it with a shoe earlier.

----

a/n: got inspired by that post about spiders that i made lmaooooo

[pucksandpower]

Champagne Kisses

Lando Norris x Piastri!Reader

Summary: the taste of champagne has never been sweeter than when it’s being poured down your skin in celebration of your boyfriend … too bad your brother didn’t get the memo that these particular festivities were supposed to be private

Warnings: 18+ content

Note: congratulations to my favorite McLaren fan @struggling-with-drivers and all of the other Lando fans who have plenty of reason to celebrate tonight 🫶

The champagne sprays over the sweaty crowd as Lando holds the trophy aloft, a wide grin plastered across his face. This is the moment he’s dreamed of since he was a kid racing karts — his first Formula 1 win.

As the celebrations continue on the podium, Lando’s eyes scan the crowd of papaya below, landing on you watching with a proud smile. He gives you a subtle wink, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. You feel your cheeks flush hot.

Later, once the chaos has died down, you slip away from the McLaren garage and head towards the drivers’ rooms. Glancing around to make sure the coast is clear, you duck inside Lando’s room and lock the door behind you.

“Where’s my winner?” You call out in a singsong voice.

Lando emerges from the bathroom, a white towel slung low around his hips as water droplets cling to his toned torso. “Well, well. If it isn’t my gorgeous supportive girlfriend.” He crosses the room in a few strides, pulling you into a searing kiss.

You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his dampened curls. “I’m so proud of you, babe.”

Lando grins, resting his forehead against yours. “This calls for a celebration.”

He grabs the bottle of champagne leftover from the podium ceremony and pops the cork with a hiss. Taking a swig, he offers it to you. “Your turn, love.”

You accept the bottle, the bubbles tickling your throat as you drink deeply. Lando watches you with hooded eyes, licking his lips unconsciously.

Setting the bottle down, you sink to your knees in front of him. “Let me properly congratulate the newest race winner.”

Lando’s breath hitches as you mouth along the tented towel. “Oh f-fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.”

You smirk up at him. “Not a bad way to go out though, right?”

Pushing the towel aside, you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue along the silky shaft. Lando groans loudly, fisting a hand in your hair to guide your movements.

“Yes, just like that. God, you’re so good at this.”

You hollow your cheeks, increasing the suction as you bob your head rapidly. His hips snap forwards, driving himself deeper into your willing mouth.

“I’m so close already,” he pants, thrusting erratically. “I want to … can I?”

You just hum in agreement around him, sending delicious vibrations along his length. With a guttural groan, Lando’s release spills down your throat as his thighs tremble.

Pulling back, you swipe your thumb across the corner of your mouth with a satisfied smile. “Mmm, my favorite drink.”

Lando chuckles breathlessly, hauling you up into a filthy kiss, the tang of his arousal sharp on your lips. He grabs the bottle of champagne, tilting it against your lips.

“Open up, darling. Time for a little celebration of our own.”

Dutifully, you part your lips to accept the fizzy stream. It spills over your tongue and down your body, soaking through your clothes in cool rivulets. Lando’s eyes darken with lust as he drinks in the sight of you, sodden and panting.

“Look at you, all messy and debauched. Maybe I should get on the podium more often.”

With a wicked gleam, you shrug off your drenched dress, kicking away your shoes to stand in just your skimpy bra and underwear. “Keep winning and you can do whatever you want to me, champ.”

Lando growls, the bottle forgotten as he crashes his mouth against yours hungrily. You moan into the kiss, nails raking down the tanned planes of his back.

He walks you backwards until your thighs hit the couch, tumbling down with you cradled beneath him. The plush fabric squelches beneath your damp bodies as Lando grinds his rapidly re-hardening length against you shamelessly.

You whine at the delicious friction, arching up to meet his thrusts. “Don’t tease me, Lando.”

“Not a chance,” he murmurs, dragging his teeth along the sensitive column of your throat.

His rough palms cup your breasts, kneading the soft mounds through the flimsy lace. You gasp at the sparks of pleasure, digging your nails into the flexing muscles of his biceps.

Impatiently, you hook a leg around his waist to urge him closer. The scrap of material covering your core does little to dull the scorching heat of him pressing insistently against your slick folds.

“Please, Lando,” you beg shamelessly. “I need you inside me.”

With a groan, he tugs your underwear aside and thrusts home in one slick motion. You both moan loudly at the feeling of being joined so intimately once more.

Lando starts a punishing pace, hips snapping forwards as his cock drives into your fluttering depths over and over. You cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders and leaving crescent marks in the tender skin as euphoric cries spill from your lips.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me,” Lando pants, dropping his forehead against yours. “My gorgeous, perfect girl. Always ready for me, yeah?”

“Always,” you gasp out between moans. “Only for you, Lando. My race winner.”

He captures your lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and desperation as his thrusts grow sloppy and erratic. With a final cry, you shatter around his thickness, clenching down hard enough to drag Lando over the edge too.

You clutch at each other through the haze, trembling and sated as your breathing slowly evens out. Lando peppers lazy kisses across your face, tangling his fingers in your sweat-damp hair.

“Love you so much,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can’t believe I get to have you.”

You smile dopily up at him. “Sap. I love you too, my future champion.”

A loud bang at the door startles you both, Lando instinctively rolling to shield you with his body. The handle jiggles fruitlessly before a familiar Australian accent calls out.

“Oi, Lando! You in there, mate? Let me in, I want to celebrate!”

Lando freezes above you, eyes going comically wide. “Oh shit ...” he whispers. “It’s Oscar!”

“Lando?” Oscar’s voice comes again, sharper this time. “Everything okay? Open up!”

You look at Lando in panic, clothes and coverings hopelessly askew. The doorknob rattles more insistently as Oscar tries to force his way in.

“Just one second!” Lando shouts back, grabbing the towel to wrap around his waist as he crosses to the door. He cracks it open a fraction. “Hey mate, what’s up?”

Oscar doesn’t wait for an invitation, shoving his way inside with a wide grin. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, you little shit! My teammate finally got a win, time to get messy!”

He stops short, brows shooting up as he takes in the state of disarray. Lando tugs the towel more securely around his hips as Oscar’s gaze lands on your disheveled, half-naked form sprawled on the couch.

You hold your breath, suddenly very aware of your compromising position and state of undress. Lando follows Oscar’s line of sight, wincing as he turns back slowly.

The two teammates stare at each other for a beat before Oscar breaks the silence.

“Is that my fucking sister?”

“Oscar, I can explain-” Lando starts, hands raised placatingly.

But Oscar is already stalking forward, fury etched across his face. “You sick bastard! My teammate and my twin sister?”

He grabs Lando by the shoulders, shoving him back against the wall hard. “I’m going to make sure you never have kids, you piece of shit!”

You scramble upright, clutching your bra to your chest. “Oscar, stop!” You plead, rushing over to insert yourself between the fuming teammates. “It’s not what you think.”

Oscar scoffs, not releasing his grip on Lando’s shoulders. “Not what I think? He had you half-naked and covered in … is that champagne?”

You wince at his disgusted tone. “We’re together, Oscar. We have been for months.”

“Months?” Oscar looks between you and Lando, comprehension and rage warring on his features. “You’ve been sneaking around with my teammate this whole time? Behind my back?”

Lando finally finds his voice. “Look, mate, I didn’t mean any disrespect. You know how much I care about your sister.”

“Care about her?” Oscar laughs bitterly. “Is that what you call bending her over after races? Treating her like some ...”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you snap, anger flaring. “I’m not some conquest, Oscar. I love him.”

Oscar’s eyes widen at your admission, looking almost wounded. Lando takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he meets Oscar’s hard stare.

“It’s true,” Lando says quietly. “We’re crazy about each other. Have been for ages.”

“This is … messed up,” Oscar runs a hand through his hair, regarding you both warily. “As teammates, we can’t let this impact the team.”

“It won’t,” you insist. “We’ve kept it professional so far.”

Oscar grimaces as his eyes rake over your state of undress and the clear signs of your activities. “Evidently.”

An awkward silence stretches between you before Lando speaks up again.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to, but ...”

“But what?” Oscar demands. “You thought I’d be thrilled my baby sister was sneaking around shagging my teammate?”

You open your mouth to retort but Lando cuts you off, stepping closer to Oscar.

“I know how it looks, and the situation’s not ideal. But I swear on everything, I would never hurt her or disrespect your family like that.” His eyes are deadly serious as he holds Oscar’s stare. “You have to know how much she means to me.”

Oscar’s jaw tenses mulishly for a long moment before he exhales a harsh breath. “If you break her heart, I’ll make sure you can never drive a car again, let alone race one,” he growls.

A hesitant smile tugs at Lando’s lips as you feel relief wash over you. “Deal, mate.”

“Now get some bloody clothes on,” Oscar grimaces, waving a hand vaguely in your direction as he turns away. “Jesus, you two are rank.”

You huff out a laugh, pulling Lando in for a quick kiss before grabbing your discarded clothes.

As Oscar fiddles with the champagne bottle, refusing to tear his eyes away from the ceiling, you share a look with Lando, hearts swelling with love and hope for whatever the future may bring.

Lando Nowins is no more.

[laligraves]

chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus. 

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne. 

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say? 

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies. 

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.  

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out. 

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair. 

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool. 

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.” 

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically. 

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip. 

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy. 

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous. 

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so. 

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper. 

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it. 

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you! 

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass. 

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly. 

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos. 

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation. 

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. 

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise. 

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.  

“What–” 

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?” 

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face. 

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep. 

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused. 

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.  

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.” 

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”  

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat. 

“Joel–” 

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.” 

“No, I didn’t. I–” 

“I knock you up?” 

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words. 

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

“No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams. 

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”   

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground. 

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–” 

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.” 

“We can’t–” 

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans. 

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines. 

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button. 

 “Joel, please,” you beg. 

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back. 

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps. 

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. 

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on. 

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s. 

“Joel, my sister is inside–” 

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock. 

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful. 

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.  

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs. 

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!” 

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded. 

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”  

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp. 

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples. 

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.” 

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger. 

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands. 

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating. 

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth. 

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby. 

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.  

“Jesus–,” Joel groans. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!” 

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight. 

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck. 

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps. 

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.   

“C’mon–fuck.” 

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you. 

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you. 

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body. 

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down. 

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.” 

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see. 

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking. 

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”  

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit. 

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss. 

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body. 

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close. 

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy. 

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–” 

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again. 

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you. 

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum. 

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move. 

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks. 

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point. 

“Full… and sore,” you whisper. 

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

You roll your eyes and push him off of you. 

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?” 

[dreamlifebunny]

how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕