#this should be one of the first things kids learn when they learn about the 9/11 attacks

[elllisaaa]

i’m not the biggest fan of pools and such but jake is soo the type to splash water on you in order to make you get in so he can see you all wet and eventually make out with you 🙄

imagine BROTHER'S BFF!JAKE who is spending every summer at your house since your teenagers years because your parents have a pool. however, since you were older than your brother heeseung, you left for college before them. jake missed you, because he had a crush on you, but also because you were someone he truly trusted and appreciated. now, the only time when he got to see you was when you would come back for holydays. and he took advantage of that and of the fact that you were single to flirt with you every chance he got. and it didn't matter if you rejected him every time because he could see the faint smile on your face.

so when jake learned that your parents will leave this summer but that you would be here, he was over the moon because it was finally his chance to seduce you. and truth be told, you had already been charmed a long time ago. but jake was younger, even if it was just one year, and mostly, he was your brother's best friend. it should be wrong, but the way he was eyeing you ever since you laid down on your deckchair, letting the sun hit your uncovered skin. and jake was glad he was in the pool and you couldn't see how hard he was in his swimsuit only because you were wearing the skimpiest bikini known to mankind.

heeseung left earlier because he was working tonight, leaving you and jake alone. and he knew it was his chance to do something about his aching dick and the fat crush he had on you since middle school. "hey, y/n." you hummed as you sat up, but before you could even take off your sunglasses to take a proper look at him, he splashed water at you. you gasped at the fresh liquid hitting your warm skin. but a second after, you were throwing your glasses to the side and jumping in the pool to get back at him. you tried your best to splash water at each other, trying to push his head underwater but you forgot that he's been overpowering you for quite some time because he had started working out - and he looked a little too good too. so you weren't even surprised when he succeeded in pining you against the pool wall, his breathe hitting your lips from how close he was too you, his eyes dipping into your clevage.

"got you, pretty girl." - "it's not fair, you're too strong now." - "i'm not a kid anymore." you knew that, better than he could ever imagine since he was the only thing you could think about when you were touching yourself, imagining it was his fingers reaching deeper into you, imagining it was him eating you out with this tongue of his that he was only sticking out when you were making fun of him. jake noticed how your gaze darkned, how your eyes zeroed on his lips. "yeah, i know. you're much more than that."

you didn't know if you kissed him first, or if he did, but it didn't matter when he was devoring your mouth like that, holding you by your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. the friction between his obvious hard on and the thin material of your bikini bottom felt so good you both moaned into each other mouth, your nails digging into his muscular shoulders as he started to grin against you.

"fuck, you feel so good pretty, i knew you would, been wanting this, wanting you for years." - "shit ! me too jakey, i need you so bad." jake groaned in his deep voice that always made you wet as he slid his hands under the soaked material of your top, gropping your breast harshly. he relished in the way you were already whining out his name, holding onto him. and he needed to hear more of them, to taste more of you.

"sit on the edge baby, i want a taste of your pretty little pussy." you didn't questionned his request, nor did you think about the nieghbords when you did what he wanted, and let jake push the piece of clothing covering your cunt aside, and dive into your wetness. and nothing else mattered, nothing else beside the way jake was gripping your plush thights, nothing else beside the way jake was lapping at your cunt and sucking on your clit, whimpering against your fold because he was already addicted to you. and it was needless to mention that both of you were glad that your brother worked tonight.

#he gives out this vibe of summer crush i can't get over it #eli answering your questions #dinna's asks #eli's moots #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #jake x reader #jake smut #jake hard hours #jake hard thoughts

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

#sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo x reader smut #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

[pinkeos]

Dad!Ratio Headcanons

Warning/s: None and no mention of reader's gender, whether your kids are adoptive or your own is up to you

Notes: I'll mostly post short fics/headcanons more because I'm juggling between two genshin accs and two hsr accs I'm lifeless like that🧍

for some reason, i feel like dad!ratio would be the type to be strict with his children when they're younger but gradually relax and let them experience things for themselves without him constantly lingering and restraining them as they grow older, because he knows first hand experience is a better teacher than most

that doesn't mean he's not there for his children though, it's the opposite, actually. he’s ready to lend a hand for them if they approach him, or he approaches them if he sees them at their wits end tackling a problem

dad!ratio would have two kids, the older being a girl and the younger being a boy

he’d be the type to be serious yet also goofy, like he would probably make plaster heads for both his children and you'd come home one day seeing the three of them with plaster heads sitting on the couch

dad!ratio’s students love it when the children came to work with him because no one else could take care of them at the moment, they’re cute yes, but it's mostly because their father was a bit more softer when they were around. he’ll glare if people come over to his children without his permission though

it was always a sight to see the veritas ratio scolding his class while carrying a toddler to his hip. his students are well aware that he can throw his chalk as hard even when holding his kids

dad!ratio would be proud if his children followed in his footsteps, but he'd be equally proud of them for following their heart should they choose another profession

when the kids start studying, you make sure to balance his strictness with how lenient you were. you’d always remind them that their father doesn't need to see them get perfect scores or perfect grades, just knowing they were curious and eager to learn was enough for the man

he once tried to read them a book about physics, which earned them whines and complaints from the two. it was one versus two, and he, even with his practiced self control, couldn't resist it when his children gave him their puppy eyes

“come, children. it's time to sleep.” you could hear veritas’ voice, followed by the pitter patter of smaller footsteps as he retreated to the kids’ room with them

as per usual, the man laid on the bed and his children climbed up and snuggled on either side of him

“can you read us a book again, daddy, please?” you daughter asked, her brother nodding in agreement

knowing he was about to propose reading a complex book that tackled mathematics, they were quick to hand out a fairy tale book that their father had read to them a number of times now

“alright, alright.” he sighed, though the fond smile on his face was quite visible as he opened the book and the kids cuddled up to him more to see the drawings in it

by the time you came by to check on your husband and kids, they were all sound asleep. you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the children all snuggled up to their father, arms and legs thrown over him as they moved in their sleep

dad!aventurine next???🥹

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail fanfic #dr ratio #veritas ratio #ratio #hsr ratio #hsr dr ratio #ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader #x reader #im not normal for him #i love him sm #i would marry him in a heart beat

[hugheses]

10-6-20: Teams, agents and players: How the first-overall pick changes everything

In the spring of 2019, U.S. netminder Cory Schneider and teenaged star Jack Hughes were at the world championships in Slovakia when a big plan began as a joke.

Schneider, who was 33 at the time, teased that Hughes had better prepare for life in the Schneider basement in Short Hills, New Jersey. Schneider’s wife, Jill, joined in the fun, suggesting that Hughes start calling her “mom.”

A few weeks later, the New Jersey Devils selected Hughes with the first-overall pick in the 2019 draft — setting the stage for a text message from Schneider to GM Ray Shero at training camp in September.

“Pretty sure this kid’s making the team. We’re ready if you want.”

And so Hughes, closer in age to Schneider’s 4-year-old son Wyatt than to the veteran NHL netminder, found his way to the Schneider basement where he and Wyatt would sometimes engage in some spirited knee hockey.

Hughes soaked up knowledge from living with an experienced NHLer. But it was also an educational experience for Schneider, who learned about a thing called TikTok and another thing called Instagram. Hughes, it turns out, is a star on both.

[...]

The Devils communication staff, for instance, was in contact with Hughes’ representatives about outside demands on the young player’s time. There are staff whose responsibility is to maintain communication with players’ families to help with things like tickets, travel and merchandise requests.

Immediately after the 2017 draft, the Devils’ No. 1 pick, Nico Hischier, and his family came to New Jersey and were shown the lay of the land.

Schneider and his wife had actually discussed at the time whether Hischier should live with them, but Jill was eight-months pregnant with the couple’s second child, so it wasn’t the best solution.

“I don’t think one size fits all,” Shero noted.

Defenseman Mirco Mueller had been acquired by the Devils that summer and was living, along with a number of other younger Devils, in a complex near Jersey City.

Hischier and his family, with input from the Devils, decided that he would live on his own near those players.

“That first year having Mirco around was huge for me,” Hischier said. “He’d been around. He knew what was going on.”

The fact the two were countrymen and had a familial connection involving Hischier’s older brother was also a natural gateway to feeling comfortable.

Quickly, Hischier found a rhythm with the help of Mueller, Jesper Bratt and Blake Coleman, among others, sharing rides to and from the rink and learning what an E-ZPass was.

“I wasn’t worried about anything,” Hischier said. “I felt really comfortable with New Jersey. I felt really welcome there. They took really good care of me and really good care of my whole family.”

Hischier said his mother was especially impressed with how the Devils handled things and helped get Hischier settled in. On the other side of the equation, the fact the Hischier family often made visits to New Jersey with generous supplies of Swiss chocolates for the staff was a welcome bonus to the relationship between player and team.

Hischier also had help with other things that can affect any young person living on their own for the first time: doubt, worries about bills, shopping and cooking.

Hischier settled into the NHL life almost seamlessly, scoring 20 times as a rookie.

“There was a 100 percent focus on hockey,” he said.

“The whole organization stood behind me and helped me in any aspect off the ice — and obviously on the ice, too — but off the ice more importantly. So I have less stuff to worry about.”

It is a sign of how young the NHL has become that, in an almost impossibly short period, Hischier has gone from the rookie to a veteran voice that was able to help guide Hughes through a similar landscape.

“I obviously could feel exactly what he is feeling,” Hischier said. “It’s not easy to come to the big show at that age, handle all that stuff, what’s going on outside.”

Support is key. Even after Hughes moved into his own place near Jersey City, part of the plan mapped out before the season, Jill Schneider would sometimes order a cleaning service for Hughes or drop by and fill his fridge with food.

It was all the more important in a year of tumult in New Jersey

By the end of Hughes’ first NHL season, he had seen former Hart Trophy winner Taylor Hall dealt to Arizona and his first NHL coach, John Hynes, fired. Then the man who selected him with the first pick, Shero, was also fired. Even his landlord, Schneider, was at one point sent to the American Hockey League.

“You couldn’t have scripted it any more chaotically for an 18-year-old kid in his first year in the league,” Schneider said. “It was one thing after another.”

Hughes struggled to find a groove, scoring just seven times and finishing with 21 points.

There were times when it was clear that losing and his lack of production were weighing on him.

“Look, he’s used to being the best player on the ice and scoring three points a night,” Schneider said. “He’s done it his whole career.”

“I would be like, ‘hey man, it’s your twelfth game in the league. It’s going to come.’ I think he understands that.”

The point? A career is not a straight line, no matter how talented you are.

Great advice for any No. 1 pick.

#jack hughes #nico hischier #corey schnieder #articles #queue #long post

[msweebyness]

Times the Akuma Class Had Each Other’s Backs

Hey, folks! These are some old prompts for the Akuma Class that were in my notes! They were originally supposed to be shorts, but who knows? Maybe I’ll do some one day! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

It should come as no surprise to you all that the akuma class absolutely despises Gabriel. For one thing, he’s a neglectful father who rarely gives his son the time of day, and for another, he’s an asshat who forced his son into a career that he doesn’t want. There have been so many breakouts from Adrien’s bedroom to take him to do something fun, or just trolling the heck out of Gabe in any way they possibly can. They plan to torment him until he gives up custody to The Gorilla.

It’s the sad truth that not all teachers have their students’ best interests at heart, and this was sadly the case with Kim and DuPont’s (now former) math teacher for their grade. He would constantly cruelly berate the young athlete and tell him he was an imbecile and would never leave middle school once the other students had left. He gave Kim extra work he wasn’t equipped to understand, and offered no kind of assistance. And when the other kids were there, he would constantly single Kim out, calling on him when he knew he was unprepared. Eventually though, the rest of the class caught on and all began taking notes and recording what they were witnessing. After a week or two, they reported their findings to the school board, and the teacher lost his employment. And when Kim’s parents were called in…the entire school could hear Mai screaming in furious Vietnamese.

It’s not rocket science that having your work stolen really hurts, and Max knows this firsthand. He worked for weeks on a new software format that would speed up processing to an insane degree, and was going to present it to a prestigious tech institution. Only for the program to get stolen by some jerks from another class who wanted the position for themselves. Thankfully, the akuma class is always prepared and had proven records of Max working on the program, such as photos and video, showing that it was his. They’ve done the same thing with jerks who’ve tried to steal or trace Nath’s art.

Whenever Rose can’t come to class because she’s having an episode of her condition, her classmates set up tablet with a video call and place it in her seat next to Juleka so she can feel like she’s in class with them. They also take extra notes just in case the connection goes out and she misses something.

Juleka’s first professional modeling gig was a joyous occasion…and one that warranted a whole boatload of stress. Juleka nearly worked herself into an anxiety attack on the day the shoot was scheduled…until she saw the boatload of encouraging messages from her classmates and the rest of the Girl Squad there to accompany her. The class does the same thing when Mylene is nervous about speaking for one of her charities or going on stage.

Marinette was overjoyed when she was nominated to take part in a prestigious fashion competition…only to be consumed by anxiety when she discovered she would be up against professional designers who had entire teams at their disposal! Thankfully, she has a squad of dedicated friends who were willing to learn how to put dresses together, no matter how many times they pricked themselves or had to redo their work. They absolutely kicked ass and all the other designers were embarrassed they were beat by a group of teens.

(Here’s the big one!) We all know teens can be stupid little shits, and this was certainly the case with some of Ivan’s neighbors. The three assholes, like a bunch of dickheads, decided to entertain themselves by throwing rocks from their mom’s garden to scare a group of little kids who were playing in the nextdoor yard. Well, this was the Bruel’s house and Sasha happened to be among those kids…and one of the rocks hit her in the side of the head. Hearing his little sister sobbing from inside the house while he’d been helping Mylene (who was over at the time) make the kids something for lunch, Ivan came back out to see what was going on…and completely lost it. After Mylene took Sasha inside and called an ambulance because her head was bleeding, Ivan blew up at the three boys, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with them. Of course, they decided to use this outburst to claim he had been threatening them. Of course the parents believed them, despite the testimonies from the other children (Kiran and the Cesaire twins) of what had happened, and actually threatened to sue and posted a warning on the neighborhood Twitter that the people next door had a ‘very aggressive son’… only to be forced to take it down and apologize when the akuma class (as well as the other three classes in the grade) all left comments saying that was total bullshit…and Max got ahold of security footage from the neighbors behind the Bruels, permitting Sabrina to get her dad involved. Sasha ended up having to stay in the hospital for a day or two, getting stitches and making sure there were no internal injuries to her head. (Thankfully, she was clear) But when she got home, the entire akuma class had made a ‘Get Well Soon’ card for her with personal messages from each of them! Marinette even made her a cute Sulley Mini Plushy, (Monsters Inc is her favorite movie) and Nath drew a picture of her as a princess superhero (what she says she wants to be when she grows up!) And don’t worry, those three idiots got in HUGE trouble. Let’s just say, Galina and Iosif were NOT happy with them…or their parents for that matter. (And it turns out the rest of the class had gone around talking to the neighbors and it turns out these kids had a history of problem behavior that their parents never did anything about!)

Family sticks together! (The Sasha one is based a little on personal frustration, because stuff like this happens, sadly more than once where I live. As someone who loves and works with young children, I HATE that the idiots who do that kind of stuff GET AWAY WITH IT. The last ended how I wish these situations would most of the time!) Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

#miraculous ladybug #akuma class #fluff/angst #mlb headcanons

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Of the 19 hijackers who carried out the Sept 11 attacks:

15 were from Saudi Arabia (a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

2 were from the United Arab Emirates (also a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

1 was from Egypt, 1 from Lebanon.

None of the hijackers were from Iraq.

None of the Sept 11 hijackers were Iraqi.

None of the 9/11 hijackers were from Iraq.

#9/11 #serious post #not a shitpost #this should be one of the first things kids learn when they learn about the 9/11 attacks #politics #this is just...it's such an essential and brazen fact and i rarely see basic outrage over it #i want outrage. i want fury. i want disgust over the way fundamental facts are disguised and discarded and downplayed #because there are things we should KNOW. basic fact we should ALL KNOW. and they are tucked away in the footnotes. #and no this is NOT to put the blame on other middle eastern countries #we know this was carried out by a specific terrorist organization not a national government #but King George the Second decided (and was encouraged by his cabinet!) to invade a nation! #a nation that was not at all related or responsible!!! #a dictatorship to be sure--but a dictatorship that King George the First had been happy to support #so what changed? why did we go in guns blazing to DEMOLISH a country *we had NO PLANS OF REPAIRING*??? #well. because they wanted a villain didn't they. a nice clean war. clarity of purpose. us the heroes against them the villains #and when you're in that mindframe--truth is irrelevant. you can pick your villain (your victim) by rolling a roulette wheel #truth is irrelevant #worse: to the people in charge #truth is a HINDRANCE #'Alternative facts' existed long before it became a catchphrase #facts don't matter. truth doesn't matter. the impulses of a handful of volatile & rich & power-high people--that's History. congratulations

[uncanny-tranny]

I love giving advice, apparently, so if you are a newly pierced person or are planning on being pierced, here are some of the things I found helpful, as somebody who isn't a professional piercer but has had six plus piercings on my face and body, and multiple ear piercings (which I don't count, since I DIY'd them):

Normal bath towels are your enemy, proceed with caution after bathing. NEVER wipe moisture away from a fresh piercing, always pat it dry

You will hit a new piercing and it will hurt. This is inevitable, just know that you likely haven't destroyed it. Feel free to cry, though, it hurts like hell.

If your piercer gives you instructions, heed them. If you're on restrictions, please take it as seriously as possible

When you're going in for a piercing, please eat or drink something - at least what constitutes as a snack for your body. It really helps

If you're getting an oral piercing, make sure you size down after the healing period - I hadn't sized down for my last oral piercing when I first had the chance, and it was... so annoying to have too-large of jewelry

Not all jewelry is made equally. Do your research on materials, threading, and sizing. I've found that titanium jewelry is really nice for me, and I like it, but that isn't the only option. Make sure you think about your body and its needs and preferences

Close your eyes while being pierced (I found this really helps me)

Don't over-clean a new piercing, twice per day is usually a good place to start

The completed healing period is a very average suggestion - you may heal slower or faster. Try to adhere to that suggestion, though, especially if you do not feel you're healed enough

Personally, I have found that I am completely healed when my piercing feels like just another part of my body, even when it is touched. When my piercings start to feel as though they are foreign when they never do before, I know I likely need to clean them

While I have DIY'd piercings, I personally do not recommend it, especially if you are either not using sterilized equipment, or are piercing a very dangerous place (like the tongue). If you are absolutely positive about committing to the DIY mindset, please try to do due diligence in research at least

Tip your piercer. Body mods are a luxury service, and it takes years to even become a piercer, much less to be proficient at it. Tip your piercer, ESPECIALLY if their prices feel too good to be true - they likely are. Unless you are directed otherwise by your piercer, just assume that you will be tipping them for their services and budget accordingly

Make sure you understand how your piercer wants you to take care of your piercing, and ask questions. There is no question too "dumb"

If you are getting a body part pierced you are insecure about, realize your piercer has most likely seen HUNDREDS of different body parts of various sizes, shapes, and oddities. Your body is not uniquely bad, nor would a good piercer make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable with your body. If they do, however, DO NOT go through with the piercing. You should feel safe being pierced by somebody, and, indeed, that is the bare minimum.

If you use saline wash to clean piercings, you can DIY it. You will go through NeilMed like no other, and with it being $5USD a bottle, that price can rack up quickly. Make sure you use distilled water and non-iodized salt, though

If your piercing is infected, please don't be too ashamed to seek help. It's in your best interest to make sure you don't get ill or your site gets nasty ("nasty" as in painful)

These are just some of the things I've learned being a pierced person! My piercings are something I absolutely needed, and I do not for a minute regret having them. I want that same happiness to befall you, and that happens when you are able to understand a bit more what goes into piercings. You are, essentially, getting a new body part installed by a pro, and so I don't want you to not be ready for that.

Again, I am not a professional piercer, but am rather a body piercing enthusiast with many different types of piercings. I don't have every piercing, though, so please look at this critically for the piercing(s) that you want or have. At least, treat this like a soft suggestion or ways to help you brainstorm what you will find helpful.

More tips are obviously welcomed, especially if you yourself have more insight or expertise. Good luck to every pierced person or future pierced person reading this💛

#body modification #body mods #piercings #body piercing #long post #honestly i love having a professional relationship with my piercer and i feel so happy to be pierced by her #i think the client and piercer relationship is a very important aspect of getting a piercing #and i don't think people talk about that part much. you should feel SAFE being around your piercer #they are literally creating a new hole in your body with a needle. that is a very vulnerable position to be in #but i'm honestly shocked at how cheap my piercer is... #...so my last piercing was only $50USD and that included the (nice) jewelry. i feel that in that cast tipping 60% was worth it... #...i know that can rack up the cost of the piercing but especially if you LIKE your piercer (like i do) - try being as generous as possible #i personally LOVE tipping my piercer and it's the best way i can show her that i LOVE her work even when i tell her #love having a personal blog that i can be autistic about piercings!!!!! I LOVE THIS ANCIENT TRADITIONNNN #one of my profs let us write about anything as long as it was an essay and i went Insane writing about historical piercing practices #LOVE ALL TYPES OF PIERCINGS especially ones that are used to 'scare' outsiders <3 #when i was a kid they used to tell us about the Mystical African Tribes that STRETCHED THEIR LIPS (scary!!!!)... #...if it isn't obvious i hate that the lip plate especially practiced by the Mursi and many others have been used for frankly rascist ideas #i brought up the lip thing because i learned a lot about iirc the Mursi practice of lip plating and it's given me more appreciation for it!! #it's ENDLESSLY fascinating and i wish i hadn't been shown the negative bias against them first

[archduke-enver-gortash]

mmm essay about sally and kid gort in the tags (cw for child abuse, mentions of suicide, animal cruelty and a murder attempt. i always hope i don’t have to say this but just in case: i don’t excuse or condone any of her or gort’s behaviour at all.) this is literally not even touching upon everything i have to say because i hit the fucking tag limit lmao. NOBODY READ IT’S BAD BRAINSTORMING I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT SOMEHOW

#thinkin too much about gortie side characters again. #sally this time and why she specifically talks about him the way she does #like dravo is obviously still shitty but to me he was. ‘just ‘neglectful #while sally actively hated and even felt terrorised by her own child #like. it’s not like i don’t understand her at all. #imagine you and your love don’t have much besides each other and your shop and you get pregnant and ready to raise a child #only for it to not be a child he didn’t and doesn’t cry ever and he learns everything so much sooner than most but then he never calls you #his parents and it’s not just a petty thing kids do sometimes you feel that he doesn’t see you as family and the worst part is that you #agree deep down #and as he gets older he doesn’t have any friends and actively rejects the notion of the entire concept #but then as time passes you hear about how he has entire groups of children following him and then several of them commit suicide #and that thing coming to sit with you and dravo at the dinner table says that he did what you did last week when the axe to chop wood broke #and you discarded it and got a new one #and he has these habits of ripping out flowers and making sure that they don’t regrow #and then you hear rumours about a friend’s daughter’s cat disappearing and think nothing of it #until you visit his tree house a month later and find a declawed cat and birds with clipped wings and crushed bugs that he keeps fondly #and then you see him with other children and they don’t know and his face is different and body language is entirely different #and were it not for the fact that you know better you would never see anything but a normal child #and you know that you are one who painstakingly brought this thing that should not be into the world and so you decide to end it all one da #and go to him as he’s asleep with the knife shaking in your hand #but he cries when you’re above him! screams at the top of his lungs! #so you beg for forgiveness even though you don’t deserve it through tears but as soon as the knife is put away you see the act drop and fee #his clever fingers having twisted your brain inside and out and you know that you can do nothing #and so the opportunity arises to at least remove him out of your life if not everyone’s lives and you take it immediately. #but you heard him talk. how he will close his fist around the world one day. and you know that it is not a matter of if but when. #like. imagine that. jesus dude. #like i hc her as someone that is messy and does not know a lot about life and she certainly wouldn’t have been a good mother but the love #or at least desire to love is there somewhere. and believing that having a child is really the only somewhat meaningful thing she can do #with her life. she’s not some hero or rich or anything of note. so there’s a lot obligation and not genuine desire for family here. #but she never really got the chance to be an actual mother in the first place so. who knows what that might have looked like

[wayward-wren]

Throwback to the time I was 16 and watched Classic Who for the first time and was so upset over Mike's betrayal in Invasion of the Dinosaurs that I created a character called Captain Yates in the story I was writing and had him be working for the badguys but ended up having a redemption arc

#wren rambles #classic doctor who #mike yates #i cant remember what first name i gave him #but he was a fun character #he ended up basically adopting a kid and also the kid's nanny #like that story had ISSUES #but im still quite attached to that characters arc i think i had some fun things in there #he was fully on board with the badguys until he started meeting the baby sister of one of the main badguys #(who was tucked away in one corner of the base and basically ignored) #and he got attached to her and her caretaker #and ended up getting them out when the city was destoryed #they were his Kids #so he kinda became his own thing #but he was absolutely and 100% a result of me being sad about mike yates in doctor who #maybe i should try bring him back for a different story 🤔 #if jamie can inspire a well known character why cant yates! i believe i can make it happen #when i learn how to WRITE AGAIN

[mokutone]

I'm drawing Kakashi for the first time (as much as I love them, I rarely ever draw naruto characters so this is a little fun and new for me) and I'm struggling a little bc I'm trying to draw him relaxed, reclining with pakkun (in the way I recline with my cat) and I'm realizing there's something so personal abt drawing him in such a vulnerable pose ig. Like? I'm very tired too rn so maybe I'm being extra emotional and rambly but there are so few scenes of kakashi in canon where he's not wearing the jounin vest, where he's alone and relaxed and out of uniform. And I didn't realize it until I was trying to think back to other similar scenes and there really weren't any. and I'm kind of mesmerized by how you draw him because you capture that so so well, your art is gorgeous but it's also so real and expressive in a way that shows a lot of practice and a lot of love. Idk i think I've said this before and I'm sorry if it's annoying that I'm saying it again (I'll just shut up after this lol) but I went to an art school and I had massive burnout and only really started drawing again in the past 6 months and you were one of my inspirations 2 start drawing again and I'm still not as good as I'd like to be but I draw so much more now and having an actual passion for art has led to a huge improvement, so thank you and thank u for bearing with me and my sleep-deprived rambles. I think my original point got sidetracked. I forgot why i started writing this ask.

dkgjhsdgkjdshg no i think you're 100% right abt the kakashi relaxed thing, even when we see him "relaxed" he doesn't ever really Look relaxed. like

here he is chilling out in the hot springs. this man does not look relaxed but he DOES look exhausted and maybe a little like he's gotten lost. somebody help this confused man find the exit.

anyway art + motivation talk beneath the cut

djhsdkjghsdkjhg thank u for all the compliments abt my art, i do work really hard in order to draw expressive characters, and spend a lot of time paying attention to how the small details in posture and expression change how the character comes across, and im glad it pays off!

also yeah no, similarly, once i left art school (when the pandemic hit) i did have a good 6 months where i did not pick up the pencil even once, and like, usually i feel rlly bad or guilty when i'm not drawing, but my burnout was real bad and i was straight up angry abt everything dgkjhsdgkjh so i just...didn't draw for like 6 months. i didn't even feel bad about it bc i was too busy being angry

and i had a bad relationship with art at the time and eventually realized i kind of had to like? make a different relationship with art—like, try to stop seeing art as something which gave me fundamental worth as a human being, or part of who i am? you know? that's a LOT of pressure to put on just...something that i do. if i took that kind of approach to literally any other task in my life, i'd never do it. imagine thinking that the way and style with which you descend the stairs gives you your worth as a person and if you don't do it exactly right then it means you're worthless as a person? buddy i'd just find a way to go down and out through the window LMAO

i think this is the thing which gives a lot of people burnout, it's exhausting to be constantly working on something and ALSO believe that if you fuck it up even a little, it's because you are the fuckup, and a fundamental failure of a person. god thats so much pressure.

anyway so i decided to make a naruto art blog because i don't even like naruto That Much but my best friend had been trying to get me into it for years (ty kate ilu kate), and so any art that i made would be purely for fun, wouldn't have anything to do with my self worth, and might make kate laugh too, and that's why this blog exists! and taking the pressure off of creating art like that has been enormously helpful to my mental health and my ability to create, also i take breaks alllllll the time, i'm like...way healthier about my art thanks to that, and also just...a nicer person, i think? anyway i'm very glad that i inspired you to get back into art but i'm far more glad that you've found a passion for it, cultivating that passion and joy is so important

#a lot of the way i approach art is bc i worked with kids for a while and like. u can kinda tell when a kid is at the breaking point w/ art #where they're like ''if one more thing goes wrong i am going to Lose It'' #+ at that point as a ''teacher'' u have to pick between giving them critique on their artwork to improve OR letting it go + saying their #art is good and they're doing really well #and i always pick the second one—LIKE. once the kid is no longer feeling soooo frustrated abt their art that they're at a breakin point? #THEN we can talk critique. and even then i will still tell them what they're doing well #until theyre at that point tho its all ''yeah!!! you're killing it! look at these new skills you're learning! look how you're improving!'' #''look how funny/beautiful/exciting/cool your piece is!!!!'' #because first and foremost. i think that art should be enjoyed #having creation as a friend and ally vs A Duty is sooo important #TO BE CLEAR LIKE. this is also still technically a form of critique #i dont just say ''good job champ! great work doing art!'' if u wanna compliment art and have it mean something you do have to be #specific about what is good...not ''that looks great!'' but ''wow you draw really fabulously detailed noses! #or ''wow the fashion you're drawing is really cool—i wish i had that jacket!'' like. #as in all things. compliments and praise are only meaningful if they are /meant/ and you cant fake that #MY POINT IS. if we want to take the pressure off ourselves with art. i think we also gotta treat ourslves like this #look at what we're doing and compliment things we genuinely think weve improved upon. love our successes #nothing better for the ego than to compare new art to old art and look at what weve changed #i should do some redraws at some point #my jutsu

[faultsofyouth]

You Must Learn To Let Go

#my posts #atla #'letting go' what does that mean? in the end it is about a very old story. in the end it is about death. about loss #ok i really should delete the atla tag this has nothing to do with avatar but its what the guru says in season 2!! #and i think its so well done bc this is death for children. this is How To Cope With Grief for children #but u cant Talk about death on a kids show and you cant Explain seperation and emotional decay to Children #but u can build a foundation 4 them. kids will see that episode and wonder 'why did aang have to let go? why Is it a good thing to let go?' #and they will go years and years and not understand but then they will. everyone will understand loss sooner or later #to be able to let go of that Attachment- that Need for another person- is the only way to move on #the only way to heal and live some sort of happy life after the really important things are gone forever #theres no way to explain that to a child but i think its good for people to start thinking about death young tbh #it shouldnt be a surprise. i was very sad when i learned about death for the first time #but its important. its an inevitable sadness. people should be able to face it. no one should be blindsided by it

[localvoidcat]

i really need to talk more about salvador and isa because i do have an unholy amount of thoughts about the both of them

#salvador because. there's just so many things about him #he's a HORRIBLE person. he has proven this again and again and again but he genuinely believes he's doing the right thing #the town sees him as a hero and he believes himself to be one because of that. he's just following in his family's footsteps. #he's doing what he was born to do. he's doing what his father never got the chance to. he was made for this. #and he views everyone else in his life - his own wife and son included - as collateral damage should something happen to them #in andre's case it does. he is fully prepared to kill him if it means he protects the rest of the town #and he doesn't tell isa this. she wouldn't understand. she couldn't understand. she doesn't need to know. #and so he keeps moving on without her. she fades completely into the background and she hates it but what is she going to do? #her son is dead. that's what her husband tells her. and he wouldn't lie to her. he loves her. he risked his life to avenge his son. #that's what he tells her. that's why he brought that kid andre cared about so much back. he loves her. he loves his family. #and even after everything she still loves him. even when she stops seeing him less and less. even when he stops telling her things at all. #he's just doing his job. he's just protecting the town. she's just meant to stand by his side. she does not look into her son's death. #and when she learns of salvador's death she does not know where to go. she has based everything around this family. #a family consisting of a dead son and a now-dead husband. a family that she clung to even when it stopped existing years ago. #she finds a life after that. she starts rebuilding herself. she starts leaving more. for the first time in years she is allowed to breathe. #and her child isn't dead after all. he tells her everything. she can barely recognize the person before her but she loves him regardless. #it's all she's ever wanted. she just wants the best for everyone. she just didn't know that the person she loved was in the way of that. #it's only once she has everything ripped from her that she gets to live again and GOD. GOD. GOD. #fmr tag

[renthony]

It's darkly amusing to me that some people thought my mom didn't "discipline" me enough as a kid, were not shy about making sure both she AND I knew it, and now as an adult I'm one of the only people in my friend group who still wants anything to do with their parents. The proof is in the pudding, as they say.

When I was a kid, I broke a ceramic soap dispenser. I burst into tears and was terrified that I was going to be in trouble. My mom told me that it was okay, because accidents happen sometimes, and the important thing was that I didn't do it on purpose and apologized.

When someone else I know was a kid, they broke a dish on accident and got screamed at and guilt tripped. To this day, they have to push down a panic attack at the sound of broken glass, and have had to actively work on healing from that trauma. They will always have to carry that.

I think maybe it's not MY mom who fucked up in the "how to discipline your child" department. Quite frankly, I think the idea of "disciplining children" is fucked up and deeply harmful on a fundamental level.

When a kid does something wrong, you have to teach them how to fix it and do better. Humans are messy and complicated and we don't know everything there is to know just by being born. Children are learning how to be human beings, and that's a really hard thing to learn.

Kids question and fight back against authority that mistreats them, but someone treating them like a human being with human emotions is usually going to have a lot of success. Kids just want to be respected, and it's our job as adults to give them that basic human dignity. The world is utterly terrifying, and made scarier when all the grown-ups seem to hate you and wish you would just shut up and go away, even the ones that claim they want you around.

Kids can be mean, because they're still learning how to socialize and communicate and collaborate. Sometimes you have to give them time to cool off, and sometimes you have to redirect them. Sometimes you have to be firm. Sometimes you have to be an adult, and hone your conflict de-escalation and resolution skills. None of that requires punishment.

And if a child does something truly cruel and fucked up and shitty, and it hurts someone in a big way? My first question isn't "what should their punishment be," my first question is always, "who taught this kid that, and is this child in active danger from them?"

#original post

[theworldgate]

I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.

So, this is Gary Lineker:

He's known for a fair few things over here. He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan. But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things. The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.

The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job). He also has a twitter account. And political opinions. So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France). By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff. It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes. And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations. Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this. On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.". This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".

Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate. But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric. And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect. Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime. But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics. However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem". But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else. And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend. But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts! Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him. Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him. People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit. The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary. And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow. The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel. And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).

#bbc #gary lineker #football #politics #uk politics #long post is long #text #motd #match of the day

[pucksandpower]

Rockabye Baby

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected

Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶

You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.

“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”

You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”

Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”

“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”

Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”

“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”

You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”

He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”

You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.

A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.

“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”

You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”

“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”

You blink at him. “A … rock?”

“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”

A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”

“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”

“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”

“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”

Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”

You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”

Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?”

“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”

You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”

From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.

“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”

“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”

Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.

“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”

Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”

The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.

It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.

“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.

He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.

Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.

“Mmm, what was that for?”

“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”

A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”

“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”

He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:

Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.

Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.

***

Five Years Later

You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.

“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”

You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.

A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.

“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”

“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”

He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”

Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”

“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”

For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.

“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”

It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.

“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”

Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”

But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”

Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.

“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”

You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”

“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”

Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.

“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”

Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.

You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”

Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?

But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”

Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.

“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”

Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.

“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.

Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.

“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”

You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.

Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.

Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.

“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”

***

r/offmychest

u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h

My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!

Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).

I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.

At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.

It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”

Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?

And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!

My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?

I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!

At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.

Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?

Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?

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u/NosyAndProud · 8h

LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?

My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h

I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.

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u/JudgingLoudly · 7h

This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️

But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h

Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?

And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.

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u/LiveForDrama · 4h

Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”

And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h

You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.

Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.

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u/GlassHalfFull · 2h

Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.

Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?

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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h

Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.

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[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

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