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#do you think when they wake up from the simulation
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YESS cc!reader x tgc would go hard please do it NO pressure tho!! 💕
ok i had an idea for isaac,, IM SORRY I ONLY DO HIM OR YUMI i promise i will do the others soon
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drunk driving ♡︎
it was a normal day for you, wake up, get food, do a stream if you had the energy.
today was a different day, your boyfriend isaac was hanging out at your house as the two of you wanted to get some stuff done.
it was a nice day together, you both went grocery shopping and had a cute little date in a cafe
tonight you had a stream planned, your viewers knew you were close friends with the group, but never knew why you ended up becoming friends
isaac had introduced you to them and you all grew close since then
“babe? i’m just about to start a stream, i think im meant to be drinking.”
you laugh softly, searching for him as he wandered around the kitchen, soon enough finding him.
“you should let me be in it.”
“what about your face being in it?”
“i can put my mask and glasses on.”
your mind hesitates, pouting slightly as you think whether you would want him causing chaos on your relaxed streams.
although both of you had been together for a while now, neither of you told your viewers. it would be a nice introduction stream, and also suprise everyone.
“okay fine. but you can’t be screaming into my microphone, my streams are more relaxed than yours.”
he rolls his eyes, yet nods and smiles as he looks down at you.
(🤤🤤)
soon enough the stream was starting, isaac was still downstairs cleaning up as you welcomed everybody and let people join.
you were playing american truck simulator with yumi, tanner, and soon to be isaac. but you didn’t mention that and would let isaac come in whenever to surprise your viewers a little.
once you joined the vc, you were suddenly met with yumi angry about how he couldn’t exit a parking lot, and tanner laughing.
“y/n, is mr 6’2 joining us?”
“he should be, hes just cleaning downstairs.”
“malewife!!”
you giggle, reading your chat as you opened up the game. the call was deafened so you could answer questions from your viewers.
mr 6’2???
is shaquille o’neal in ur house??
WHO IS 6’2 THEY ARE TALL
as you giggle, leaving your viewer’s confused and looking for answers you start up the game.
“so i have to take a drink everytime i crash??”
yes
YES
drunk y/n time oh no
you laugh, when suddenly a notification of a donation comes through
isaacwhy donated 20$: “ill be up in a minute, u look good tonight :)”
the donation reads out, which leads you to rub your forehead in annoyance but amusement
“isaac you can just text me!”
this leads your chat practically screaming at you.
ISAACWHY???
WHY IS ISAAC HERE
HE IS MR 6’2 WHATTTT
you rolls eyes, undeafening in discord and getting onto the game.
within the span of 5 minutes isaac wasn’t up, but you were focused on driving and desperately trying not too crash; in which you failed and had already had 4 sips of your drink already.
suddenly, you feel a strong bicep go around your neck playfully. it was isaac, he wasn’t actually hurting you, just faking it for the stream
“chat i will literally kill her.”
he say’s playfully, with you playing along and saying some muttered “noo” and “helpp!”
Y/N NO
POUR YOUR DRINK ON HIM
RUN
he laughs, letting go of you as he stands beside you, only his body in view
(😫😫)
height difference check when??
“let me move my chair, out height difference isn’t that bad.”
you move your chair, standing next to isaac. your full body and face was in the the camera view, while isaac practically towered over you.
you laughed, getting back in your chair, as isaac crouched down next to you with his mask and glasses on.
soon enough, you had crashed about 50 times and isaac was your servant on getting you another drink.
“do you need another drink?”
“yessss”
“too bad you’re not getting it.”
“babee..”
your drunken self not realising that petname had slipped out, you both tried to keep the relationship lowkey throughout the stream.
but your intoxicated brain had slipped up, causing the chat to go wild.
babe??
EXCUSE ME
bro called him babe
y/n and isaac marriage when??
you laugh, reading your chat with your head spinning.
“when are we getting married?”
“i thought i was already your malewife?”
a few giggles come out from you, hearing tanner screaming down his mic that him and isaac were already married.
soon the stream ends, and you flop your head on your desk.
“come on babe, you can’t fall asleep there.”
no response.
he sighs, lifting you up with ease from you chair and throwing you over his shoulder, which might’ve been a bit heavy on your head from dangling upside down.
within minutes you were placed in your bed, changed into more comfortable clothing and fast asleep.
ok lowkey i do not like this at allARGHH someone tell me if its good or not 😢
bit of fluffy isaac at the end thooo
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kaitobromota · 2 months
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love the ultimate imposter. just thinking about how even when theyre trying to impersonate someone as cold and aloof as the real byakuya they can't help being caring and protective in a way he never was. the way no matter how good they are at their talent their real personality will always shine through because theyre that kind.
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cutielando · 27 days
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period ~ charles leclerc
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Summary: You’re having very bad period cramps but not to worry, Charles is here to save the day!
Words: 1.1k+
Other works: my masterlist
a/n: thank you so much @rayaharper for requesting this !!❤️
♡♡♡♡♡
You hated being a woman.
Well, that wasn’t technically true.
You hated specific parts of being a woman. Like periods, for starters.
The pain that always enveloped you every month was the most barbaric thing you had ever felt in your entire life.
From headaches, backaches, all the way to your tummy cramping up and simulating what it would feel like to get stabbed in the gut hundreds of times over and over again. That’s how you would describe the cramps.
Charles, of course, tried to help as much as possible. He knew the signs that your period was approaching a week before that. 
You would be crankier and more emotional than normal, you’d complain about the fact that your breasts were sore, you’d be bloated and would raid the cupboard you had with chocolate and all kinds of junk food.
He knew you already. 
And when your period would finally come, it would be like a switch was turned on in his head.
He’d turn into the most attentive boyfriend and human being you had ever met. Asking you if you needed anything, if he could bring you anything to eat or drink, encouraging you to take some pain medication to help ease your suffering, offering to just lay with you and hope his presence brings you some comfort. 
He had even mastered the art of heating up your water bottle to perfection. 
You really couldn’t have asked for someone better to handle you when you were on your period.
And just like every month, you were now bound to your shared bed, snuggled under 3 blankets with your head buried into your soft pillow, small groans and whines coming from you every once in a while.
Your period had just started a half an hour before, but it was already swinging in with fresh forces.
Charles has been on the simulator for the past hour, so he didn’t know that you were currently dying of pain in his bed. You figured there was no reason to bother him, it happened every month and you were already used to it.
But you regretted it as soon as your body hit the bed. You wanted the warmth of your boyfriend, his arms around you in a hug that only he could give you, have his undivided attention and just lounge in bed with him.
And yet you couldn’t even find the energy to get out of bed and go to him. You couldn’t even find the energy to take your phone and maybe send him a message.
You would just have to wait for him to finish his game and come looking for you. He shouldn’t be that much longer, right?
God seemingly took pity on you, because not even 5 minutes later the bedroom door opened and Charles stuck his head in to see what you were doing.
“Amour?” his voice was soft, thinking you would be asleep and not wanting to wake you up.
You only grumbled from under the covers, which immediately alarmed your boyfriend.
“What’s wrong, mon amour?” he now fully opened the door and hurried to your side of the bed, slowly caressing your cheek and brushing your hair back from your face.
“Cramps” you mumbled out, almost sighing in relief once his hand made contact with your skin.
He immediately knew what you meant, mentally kicking himself that he had not come to check on you sooner.
“I’ll go get you some medicine and prepare your heating pad. Do you want anything else? Something to eat, maybe?” he said, smiling when you opened your eyes to look at him.
“Maybe some chocolate?” you smiled cutely, making him smile and nod.
He leaned down to kiss your forehead before he hurried out of the room and towards the kitchen.
Immediately getting to work, he put some water to heat up and got your medicine, also finding the chocolate that you always craved when you were on your period.
As soon as the water was heated, he poured it into the heating pad he had got you and hurried up the stairs, not wanting you to be in any more pain.
“There we go, amour. Drink this” he said as he sat next to you and handed you the pills and a glass of water.
You slowly sat up and swallowed the pills, taking the pad out of his arms and putting it on your belly.
“Did you bring the chocolate?” you asked, searching for the sweet relief.
He nodded and handed you the bar from behind him, smiling when he saw how your eyes lit up when you saw the chocolate in your line of vision.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked, caressing the side of your leg.
“Cuddles?” you asked, making grabby hands at him and patting the empty spot next to you.
He smiled and immediately got rid of his clothes until he was only in his underwear, knowing that you loved the warmth of his body when he had nothing on.
The moment he laid down next to you, you latched onto him like a koala, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in the crook of his neck to inhale his scent.
You guys stayed like this for half an hour, having turned on the tv in the meantime to pass the time quicker. 
Charles tried to be as still as possible, thinking that you had fallen asleep.
“Thank you, Charlie” you mumbled, making Charles surprised that you hadn’t already fallen asleep.
“For what?” he was confused, he hadn’t done anything that would require something like that.
You lifted your head from his chest, his eyes softening when he saw the adoration in your eyes as you looked at him.
“For taking such good care of me. I know I get cranky and irritated and all, I appreciate you being patient with me” you explained, settling your head on his chest again and starting to play with the string hanging from his hoodie.
“You don’t have to thank me for that. Being on your period is normal and I know how bad your cramps can get. I just want to make you feel better in any way that I can” he said, wrapping his arms more tightly around your frame and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you” you whispered, eyes closing and sleep finally coming to you.
“I love you too”
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softcells · 1 month
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Its insane seeing teenagers. Yes even 18 and 19 year olds. Posting about some of the most taboo edgeplay sadomasochism that clearly is some twisted combination maladaptive response to not loving themself and society glorifying sexual violence. And then when older adults, especially young adults who are simultaneously older than them but close enough in age to really remember and relate to this stage of life and sexuality, telling them that its unhealthy, its not progressive or counter culture, and that even in the most kink positive places people that actually do and simulate the things youre talking about do so in incredibly private enviorments and are typically 30+. Even then I wont say I personally find it morally right, but its behind closed doors, and its usually people sober enough with age and experience in BDSM that theres not much a point in stopping them. Theyve made their choice, and are grown enough that to each their own hecause ultimately edgeplay has and will always happen. I dont think creating spaces that encourage riskier and riskier play are healthy, but banning these practices pushes people who are dead set to do the extreme away from the safety of community and peer review.
But you? a 19 year old? who more than likely doesnt have a real life kink scene they engage with, running a public blog where you create feedback loops in your mind sexualizing deep trauma and abuse all while allowing strangers to eg you on and get off to your maladjustments, are not one in the same with that one insane couple that suffocates each other with plastic bags once a year at a privage dungeon you have to pay a member fee to be a part of. No. Youre ruining your relationship to sex, encouraging a rape culture, and feeding into the worst parts of society. You will one day wake up miserable that the only way you can cum is completely debasing yourself for anyone thats willing to take advantage of you. You will regret not having gentle first kisses and vanilla serious relationships. And ironically? You will never even experience healthy, safe, deeply caring and consensual kink, because youre behaving as an immature dirtbag whose legal adulthood validates pursuing the extreme, adrenaline, and the vapid attentions of those who do not love you and wont hold you in submission of body and mind. You wont ever know those relationships via the lense of kink because what youre doing is simulating abuse under the guise of fetish.
The way young people engage with online fetish rp and community reminds me of all the anorexia groups and blogs I used to be a part of. Everyones choosing to be sick, its okay that we all encourage each other all day long, its okay that we have rewritten how we view the world in pursuit of self harm. And truthfully whats most devastating is it all comes from the same sad miserable place in your heart and mind that decided if you amd the world cannot love you: let the body starve. Or in your cause let it be violated.
This message hardly goes out to my regular followers but I hope it reaches one young person with a public rape fetish and wakes you up. Start over tomorrow. Find out what it is like to be loved sweetly before you experiemnt with domination and submission. Allow people to buy you roses and take you on walks, and do so until you are wet at the idea of someone holding you gently and soeaking to you equally. Not them roofeying you over dinner. And then when that day comes if you still wonder what its like to combine pleasure and pain seek out grounded people who have your safety at heart first and not their cocks, and for the love of god, take it off tumblr.
Youll see theres a much brighter, healthier, sexier world
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strawberry-cowmilk · 11 months
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how the brothers show their fondness towards you
mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read
content warnings: some implied violence in asmo's part
-----
Lucifer
he doesn't mind having you in his office while he works, you may do your thing on the couch as long as you don't bother him too much
lucifer will never admit to it but having you there takes some of the stress away, so he actually prefers your presence
also he'll invite you to some random stuff, he could approach you after breakfast and go 'we have dinner with diavolo tonight, dress nicely'
Mammon
the more shy he reacts to you doing something nice for him, the more he likes you (same goes for how dumb his excuse for getting shy is)
one time you walked into his room and found a wallet labeled 'mc gift money'
mammon will also try to impress you, for example if he cooked a nice meal he will brag about it to you non-stop
Leviathan
he's more comfortable talking about his interests with you when you're close, like he'll go over fan theories he made up and show his fanmade characters
also levi for sure made an avatar for you in his life simulation games
if you have any pets he'd like to introduce them to his fish henry 2.0 and hopes they become good friends
Satan
it's hard for him to get mad at you, if one of his brothers accidentally knocks over his cup he will get angry, but if it's you his first concern is making sure you're not hurt
even if you don't like books satan will try to find some you might enjoy (and you're allowed to enter his room for books any time)
also if he notices you don't understand certain rad lessons he'll explain it to you
Asmodeus
you basically share your wardrobes, anything that's his, you're allowed to steal, from shirts to necklaces to hats
plus you are the only one allowed to use his bathroom other than himself, he even put bottles of your shampoo there
if asmo wants to go somewhere, you are the first person he asks to join him
also if asmo ever found out somebody hurt you or anything he will make sure they learn why he's considered high ranking demon
Beelzebub
he always orders something for you whenever he gets takeout and he lets you steal his food (he will get mad at anyone other than you for doing this)
if you ever get beel a bracelet or something he will never take it off, he'll even sleep with it
despite being a terrible artist he made you a painting one time because he wanted you to know he deeply appreciates you
Belphegor
he will do little things that show how much he thinks of you
for example, if your favorite color is blue he'll get a ddd case in that color
also he'll join you in any activity you'd like, anything is fun when it's with you (even if he'd rather take a nap)
speaking of naps, if you take one together he will hug you close and you will not he able to escape his grasp unless he wakes up
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19burstraat · 4 months
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ketterdam dashboard simulator 2 (electric boogaloo)
(first one here)
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❌ urkerchfaveisproblematic follow
Who submitted Kaz Brekker. don't take the piss he's literally wanted every other Wednesday
🍃 squallertales follow
Wait what did Brekker do
🌊 boekcanaling
Girl what DIDN'T he do
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🦁 dimelionsofficial follow
Ghezen's Day Piss Up starts TONIGHT at the Kaelish Prince! Come down before four bells and get ten kruge off your first drinks purchase and an extra spin on Makker's Wheel!
👤 dregsofficial
545.06.7.9
🦁 dimelionsofficial follow
HOW DID YOU GET PAST THE FUCKING VPN. FUCK YOU KAZ BREKKER. FUCK YOU SO MUCH. YOU DO THIS EVERY TIME. WE'RE NOT EVEN DOING ANYTHING TO YOU. WE'RE ALL JUST PEOPLE WITH JOBS. TRYING TO GET BY. MOST OF US NEVER EVEN SPOKE TO ROLLINS. THIS IS SO TWISTED. YOUR ACTUALLY WRONG IN THE HEAD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. I ACTUALLY CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS ANYMORE. I'M SICK.
👤 dregsofficial
*you're
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❓lidandstavessuggestions
#234: build mickey's dick smasher between east and west stave
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🍷dregsconfessions
So I've been a dregs member for a long time (I'm in my 30s now) and back when I was a new grunt I was especially trolleyed at the Crow Club, and I ended up spilling like half my pint on the head of one of Haskell's feral little runners, yk one of the little kids?? I just kind of mopped him with my sleeve and said sorry and figured that it was the end of it... however it has occurred to me lately that it actually might have been Kaz. Honestly I never could tell the difference between all the kids, and I didn't look properly at him, but now I've been waking up in a cold sweat several times a week thinking about it. Is it time for me to retire from the gang life
#submisson #admin comment: lately all of these have just been ppl embarrassing themselves in front of kaz
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🧇 stroopwafels
There's definitely blogs on here that are undercover advertising for the Dregs btw. I accuse that one that thirstposts abt Dirtyhands
🧤 dirtyhandsy follow
:( no I'm a Razorgull actually
🧇 stroopwafels
WHAT???????
🧤 dirtyhandsy follow
I have eyes :/
🧇 stroopwafels
You won't for much longer if your boss finds out omfg
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🃏 makkerswheelies follow
you guys are cowards for not wanting to fuck Brekker. Out of my way ghezenboy I'm bout to get it
🃏 makkerswheelies follow
My wallet is Gone
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💀 dregsundrained follow
Kaz Brekker isn't violent. Dirtyhands is. Get it right
🏵️ cillasfryup
Gonna rob a bank tomorrow and when the stadwatch come I'm gonna tell them it was my alter ego Countess Boochie Flagrante
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🙏🏻 thumbofghezen follow
sooooo sick of seeing people say that the council of tides shouldn't have complete control over kerch shipping. they stop the island from sinking??? every day?? have some respect
⛲ sanktvladimirs
idk about you guys but I'd be popping the BIGGEST bottles if kerch started sinking
🏵️ cillasfryup
me and the girls when kerch starts sinking
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🌊 boekcanaling
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staff please let me reblog ads please please please please
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💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow
guys you have 24 hours to unfollow sanktvladimirs not only are they impersonating and mocking real etherealki and real saints (they are NOT a member of the second army) they're a dregs member, and I bet they're a fucking ka/nej too
⛲ sanktvladimirs
@ dregsofficial
💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow
I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT
💪🏻 lionsroar12 follow
WHO SENT ME AN ANON ASK WITH MY ADDRESS
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🍷dregsundrained
guys I was looking at the wiki contributions who the fuck added a jesper fahey page to the dregs wiki... from inside the stadhall???
🥳 pearlhandledrevolvers
you know what. don't even worry about it
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liked by dregsofficial
🍃 squallertales follow
the wraith was only seventeen when she started hunting slavers???? she should have been at the club
#DON'T crawl out of the woodwork and say 'oh the crow club-' #the REAL CLUB. for FUN
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🎨 dekappelfan follow
🎨 dekappelfan follow
it's so nice to know no one agrees on this
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adambja · 8 months
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✨Law of Assumption | Reality Creation✨
The ULTIMATE Post on Tumblr - CREDITS GOES TO @X3N97 ON TWITTER
I offer tapes and coaching btw ;) the self-concept tape is guaranteed 100% 🫶🏻
The only post you would ever need.
𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳
DISCLAIMER:
I am a Neville Goddard follower, it took me 2 YEARS to understand the law fully well. Through trial and tribulations it FINALLY clicked for me. I do NOT just follow any YT coach, only who understand the law, so my knowledge might contradict what you know but I hope you get something out of this thread, I want you to use your common sense, have an open mind, you never know, it might be of benefit for you.
Had to lay that out there, let's continue with the post.....
PART 1
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜
Wake up! It is time for you to realize you were the operant power all along, life never "happened" to you! It is happening through you! You can realize this by seeing how life is going around for you, any area in your life if you do a little reverse engineering you would realize you created ALL your circumstances, good or bad! There were never coincidences, you created it. With this realization comes more questioning, how does it actually work? It is through your mind, your consciousness, your awareness I want you to realize that EVERYTHING you see in your reality is perceived by your mind, ALL IS MIND, studies show that if consciousness doesn't exist, reality that you know now does NOT exist
Source 👇🏻
youtube
When we say "the 3D is an illusion" it really is. You're the one assigning meaning/creating whatever the circumstances, the problem is that you were on auto-pilot, the human's non-understanding of reality made you that way, but that will be over now as you realize you hold the power.
Science calls it "the simulation theory" You're the one simulating it with your mind, your awareness, your consciousness, as consciousness is the only thing that we can call as real, spiritually speaking, you're a soul living through body, you are NOT your body.
There are people who went to experience the 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘬, where you get into a tank and restrict environmental sensory, people report that they don't feel their bodies at all and that they are only "aware" goes to show how consciousness is ONLY real (video from the movie: 𝘈 𝘎𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘹, I highly recommend)
youtube
I CANNOT stress it enough when I say that you're 𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘴 as Neville says it, to think this reality is real and that you can't change it and can't be malleable, you do that EVERY single day but UNCONCIOULSY until you awaken to this truth
The truth that you've always been a conscious creator you were just deluded by society from birth that you can't be "supernatural" and alter reality...that this 3D world is real... but this is over! It's time for you to WAKE UP!
PART 2
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙨
How do we consciously create, you ask..
Let's read what science talks about reality creation..
In Quantum Mechanics there's a theory called "the observer effect" which states: the phenomenon in which the act of observation alters the behavior of the particles being observed" Which means whatever we focus on, be aware of; is changeable, more on that in this video:
youtube
If we explain this in more layman words, we will come to an understanding that reality CAN be shifted, with OUR MINDS through focus! There's also the theory in Quantum Physics where there are multiple version of you out there in the Quantum Field and the minute you observe that you become it!
Here's where the fun begins!
PART 3
𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝘼𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣
Neville Goddard says "creation is finished" What does he mean by that? It means ALL things exists in the NOW, there was never past or present, there is always NOW It all exists. "All possibilities, all the things you desire, your healing, your job, your house, the wisdom you desire, the spiritual attainment you seek, the answers you seek, the partner, whatever it is, because we all desire different things, it's all finished and available."
So when you desire something, you're not trying to get it! It already exists, "Nothing needs to be summoned (manifested), but EVERYTHING already exists!" - Neville, all possibilities exist in the quantum field, all possibilities exist in the 4D. All you have to do is just SELECT that reality, with your MIND, your imagination.
• What's the difference between the 4D and the 3D?
One is where your mind generates images and thoughts so they can be reflected, it is your Godly power of accessing past, present, and future, the real reality, the 3D is just a reflection. 4D is where you CREATE
• How does the 4D pertain to the parallel realities where everything exists?
You access the 4D to choose what you want to experience in the 3D! If you desire it, know that the possibility of it EXITS! Your imagination is the TRUE reality, as Neville says: “When man finally identifies himself with his imagination rather than his senses, he has at long last discovered the core of reality” Remember when I said your senses (operating on the 3D realm) make you think your reality is fixed? It is not, it is always changeable.
Sooo....
• How do we choose/select/shift to the desired reality?
It was never about techniques and I will explain how you can CORRECTLY do this.
So we already know that imagination is the true reality (the 4D) and the 3D (physical reality) is just a reflection, a mirror, a shadow! And we already know there’s infinite versions of you out there and one of them that ALREADY has your desire
But...
• How do we access it?
By shifting your focus, your conciousness, your thoughts! Neville calls it “states of consciousness”
When you change how you’re aware of your desire, how you “assume” it, that is what it’s gonna reflect! Remember the observer effect? What we are conscious of it will manifest
What do I mean by “Techniques don’t manifest, you do!” Most of you go through the mistake of putting importance on them thinking that “if I don’t do it right, I won’t get what i want” here’s why they don’t matter! We already know creation is finished so every possibility exists!
And we already know we create everything effortlessly with our minds! And we also know there’s infinite version of us in the quantum field right?
• Let’s take an SP example (since it’s the most popular topic on loatwt)
Let’s say I am in a version of reality where I don’t have my SP, knowing about parallel realities, I know there’s a version out there of me where I have them! So how do I shift to that version? I just simply ask myself a simple question (this where imagination comes in play the real reality) I ask myself “How would I feel if I was ALREADY in a relationship with them?) I would feel all the feelings of having them ALREADY, I shift to that state, I embody it! I shift my awareness to KNOWING I already have them! Its not about “attracting” things to you, it’s about SELECTING the state, the awareness of my desire! How would I think if I had it already? I jump to that timeline (that I know it EXISTS) and experience what I want so it will be reflected in the 3D, because I experienced in my imagination (4D) so I KNOW It’s REAL, IT HAPPENED! The minute you don’t GIVE AN EFF ABOUT THE 3D IT’S WHEN YOU KNOW YOU CAN CONSCIOUSLY CREATE!!!! Remember 3D is a MIRROR of what you selected in YOUR MIND! When you feel it is ALREADY done! 0 to 100 REAL QUICK!
“So like what about techniques, I don’t affirm anymore?”
Most of you use techniques to produce results. You are still operating on the 3D realm, thinking affirming or whatever will make your desires come true, when in fact you have TO ASSUME the STATE FIRST!
Think about it..if you ALREADY have it would you still be affirming non-stop? How did you manifest when you didn’t know about the law before?
After you assumed the state (conjuring the feelings of ALREADY having what you desire and playing with your imagination) that’s when techniques come in handy! You start affirming NATURALLY and EFFORTLESSLY! You don’t strain yourself by doing it! You are living in the END!
Always LIVE IN THE END! It is done.
Just how this post is. 💋
i reposted it here because I know it will help a lot of people!!!!
• Credits goes to @x3n97 on twitter
The link to @x3n97 post on X (previously Twitter)
Have a good day/night 🥹🫶🏻
I have coaching for the void state and self-concept also tapes and it's guaranteed from my side but it depends on you
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ficsilike-reblogged · 6 months
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Hungry For Heaven
Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it. Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4.6k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance
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His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his. 
Sort of.
Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl. 
It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.
“You’re not staying much later, are you?” 
Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.” 
You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.” 
Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.” 
You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.” 
His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”
“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.” 
You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag. 
“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?” 
Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.” 
Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?” 
“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.” 
Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots. 
He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row. 
Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things. 
He knew that. 
But he couldn’t get you out of his head. 
“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.” 
The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip. 
Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”
And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest. 
It was fine. 
This was fine. 
He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.
“Are you coming?”
Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.
Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’ 
He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :( 
Dammit.
“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too. 
Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men. 
And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.” 
(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.) 
The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by. 
Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology. 
“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night. 
“Cognac, please.” 
The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?” 
Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab. 
Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere. 
Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight. 
As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken. 
Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile. 
Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded. 
Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group. 
You. 
God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.” 
Of course it did. 
The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand. 
“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.” 
The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.” 
You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.) 
He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic. 
“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.” 
“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”
“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.” “No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.” “That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.” 
“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable. 
The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.” 
You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.” 
“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.” 
“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”
The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!” 
“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.” 
She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.” 
You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.” 
There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face. 
The grip on his drink was near painful now. 
You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year. 
“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.” 
“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before. 
Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly. 
“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”
“That is a terrible pun.” 
“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”
“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.” 
You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?
“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.” 
“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.” 
Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor. 
Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?” 
Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened. 
“A-Admiral Cain.” 
Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease. 
“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.” 
Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.” 
“Oh?” 
Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”
Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.” 
The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.” 
“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear. 
Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.
“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”
Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.” 
“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.” 
Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.” 
The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him. 
“We are just about to leave-”
“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!” 
The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. 
You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed. 
You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools. 
You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar. 
“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.” 
The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing. 
You're in danger, the last of a line
But the vision lasts forever…
The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t. 
“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.” 
He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing. 
The young just getting older
We are sunlight
We can sparkle and shine
And our dreams are what we're made of… He just watched you. 
He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him. 
Just hold on You can make it happen for you Reach for the stars and you will fly You're hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…
And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him. And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him. While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him. You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?” And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted. Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse. 
He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly- But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober. 
He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.
You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips. 
Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue. 
He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.” “I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.” 
The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth. 
He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight. 
Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door. 
“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.” 
Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek. 
Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down. 
“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.” 
Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday. 
Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too. 
Beau couldn’t wait. 
A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
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Sore Loser.
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Yan Alhaitham x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation and unbalanced power dynamics.  Word count: 1.1k.
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“In case you somehow missed it while storming in here, I want to inform you that my work hours are posted outside my office. You should note that I’m not currently on the clock and am under no obligation to hold an audience with you.” 
You knew this would be no simple task. That’s why you’ve spent days — perhaps weeks, if you’re being totally honest — mentally preparing for this confrontation. Countless hours have been spent running mental simulations of this imperative moment. Still, despite your best efforts, you never achieved a breakthrough that’d navigate you through the obstacles lying ahead. Hence why you’ve been delaying this tête-à-tête no matter how much you recognize its needs to be resolved, and soon. 
Some might call it procrastination, or delaying the inevitable, but not you. You think of it as self-preservation. What small amount you have left to cling to, anyway. Today, that thin, already fraying self-preservation was pulled taut enough to snap. 
Which leads you here. The last place you want to be, paired with the very last person you want to see. 
Your gut tells you the feeling is far from mutual. Alhaitham’s expression might be schooled, betraying nothing that floats around in that sinister mind of his, but you’re certain he’s deriving some satisfaction from your disheveled appearance. It could be the nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips or how he went to such lengths to keep his words slow, as if savoring your attention. 
“Oh, trust me, I saw your little plaque.” 
“It comes as a relief to know you’re literate.” 
The creature seated before you cannot be a human being. There’s no way. You’ve dealt with some irritating men throughout your academic tenure — sometimes you wonder if the trait is an unspoken prerequisite to being accepted in higher education — yet none come close to this. The nonplussed air, that monotonous voice that is about as passionate as one reciting instructions from a manual. Oh, how it stokes a seething rage inside you that burns red hot. 
You slam your hands on his desk hard enough to jostle the various writing instruments and memorabilia. This little outburst earns a raised eyebrow, yet nothing else. It’s clear that the floor is yours. You’ll need to make every second count. 
“I know what you’ve been doing,” you whisper. Still nothing. No guilty body language that’d give himself away, his intense eye contact doesn’t even falter. Yours almost does. “Admittedly, I don’t know the specifics. I just think it’s interesting that ever since we broke things off, I’ve been receiving the cold shoulder from the academic world. An area you hold immense sway over.” 
He straightens out a pen that went askew from your previous action. “A quick correction: you used the incorrect pronoun.” 
“... Huh?” 
“You said ‘ever since we broke things off’ when the correct phrasing would be ‘ever since I broke things off.’ That was entirely your decision. I had no part in it.” 
It takes a few seconds for his words to register. What was once a steady yet contained flame ignites into a wildfire, seeking to smolder everything nearby into ashes. You can’t believe you saw something in him once. That you granted him a special residence in your heart, the door left unlocked so he wouldn’t need a key. In the wake of his forceful eviction, you’ve boarded up the windows and chained every potential entryway shut. There’s no fully surveying the damage left behind that you’ve been forced to clean up. 
Piece by piece, shard by shard. You knew picking up the jagged glass would hurt — you never could’ve fathomed how much it’d make you bleed. 
Unfortunately, he isn’t finished. While you mentally scramble to recollect your thoughts, he swoops in, talons sharp and ready to pierce your flesh. 
“Additionally, I don’t see why we’re having this conversation if, as you said yourself, you have no evidence to back your claims. This alleged abuse of power would be better discussed with the matra. I’d be cooperative with any investigation they open. In fact, why don’t we go visit them together—” 
“Stop it,” you cut him off, and surprisingly, he listens. “Is this— is this your way of tormenting me? Getting revenge? Does destroying what I’ve spent my entire life building satisfy your ego?” 
Alhaitham places his elbows on the desk, rests his chin on steepled fingers, and leans forward. You know that look. You were once intimately familiar with it. This is the posture he adopts when he’s studying. Analyzing every variable presented to him and unearthing what remains hidden. There is no secrecy beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Where some see a stubborn wall, he views a vast ocean of information, waiting to be absorbed by those who know how to find it. 
“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he notes. His voice is quieter. Almost tender, if such a word exists in his lexicon. You’re convinced it doesn’t. “Your foundation hides the worst of the eyebags, but I’m familiar with your normal complexion. The slightest change in pigmentation is enough to give you away.” 
You hug your arms close to your chest. “Who do you think is to blame for that?” 
“You wouldn’t like my answer.” 
His hand reaches for your wrist. You tense, your breath catching in your throat, yet you allow him to unfurl your protective stance. His skin is familiar. Warm, calloused from years of dutifully scribbling onto documents. You feel his eyes boring at and through you. Cataloging your every reaction, retrieving past memories to best advance his goals. 
He’s never quite as detached as you wished he would be. 
There’s an underlying fondness when he speaks your name, gentle as a soft breeze, and almost as indiscernible. 
“You must be at your wit’s end if you’re coming to me unprepared like this,” he sighs. The spell is broken, the hypnotist’s wristwatch frozen midair. You go to jerk your hand back, only for him to tighten his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to effectively communicate his point. 
“I’ve always been partial to you, so I suppose a little overtime wouldn’t hurt just this once. I believe I have a solution for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. We could discuss it, if you’d like. How about over dinner? It’ll be my treat.” 
You did come here searching for a solution — though this is the last one you’d ever want. 
“... How much of this did you plan?” 
“I’m unsure what you mean,” his tongue might wax deceit, but his lips offer a glimmer of truth. They curl into a content smile. “I take it that’s a yes. Our usual spot, then?” 
It’s occurs to you that you were worried about the wrong thing all along. 
There was no point in fortifying your defenses after you ejected him from your heart; he never intended to undergo a forceful re-entry. 
No, according to his design, you’d be the one undoing each lock to meet him outside. 
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vixensp1ce · 7 months
Text
(consensual) somnophilia with hsr characters (ver. they dream of you)
fem!reader, rest under the cut
the line between dreams and reality are already blurry, particularly for blade. when he wakes, he’s clutching you to his chest the exact same way he was just a heartbeat ago, except now you’re just beginning to stir and your clothes are still on. he presses a kiss into your hair, rolling you onto your back so he can get rid of those pesky fabrics in the way - not out of affection, but an apology for what he’s about to do to you.
one moment he’s chasing a dark, elusive shape through a shadowy city, the next having a soft, warm hand squeeze his length ever so gently. blade’s hips jerk towards you involuntarily, and he growls, pulling you under him so he can teach you who’s in charge. you’re wearing his favourite set of underwear, the one he tore accidentally but secretly kept because he’d made you finish inside it. he endeavours to be more careful this time as he tugs it off, freeing your hardened nipples and exposed your damp mound to the rough pad of his finger.
you give him a watery, pleading look, whining that you can’t wait, and blade obliges, ridding his clothes in record time. he slams balls deep into you immediately, and you scream his name, hips coming up to meet him as he pins you down and wastes no time in fucking you.
“blade-!” you beg, or moan, or cry, and it sounds like heaven to him, knowing that he’s the one making you feel so good, your pussy weeping cum just for him, your gummy walls squeezing around him so tight he just wants to mark you as his. “oh- ah- so good, so good, faster, please-”
and faster he goes, making sure he strikes that little bundle of nerves within you, one hand simulating the bundle of nerves outside of you, until he doesn’t know where your orgasm ends and his begins.
then your voice melts away, leaving his own ragged breaths as he opens his eyes on reality. he doesn’t need to look down to know that there’s a wet stain on the front of his pants, still tented uncomfortably.
this is your fault, he wants to say to you, watching your sleeping face as he flips you onto your back. your fault for being so fuckable. but he’ll forgive you, because you’ll let him use you to solve his problem, right?
jing yuan rises early for work, but sometimes, other parts of him rise before he does. he doesn’t like waking you up just for this; after all, you have your own business to get up to during the rest of the day. oh, but thinking of you doing all those things, struggling to plug your cute little hole up with your underwear and keep it all in - it’s a win-win situation if he indulges in this once in a while, isn’t it?
every time he sees that mess dripping out of you, jing yuan regains enough energy to take you for another round. he’s not messy by nature, but the challenge of stuffing you to the brim has blood rushing to his cock.
“one more time,” he pants, slinging one of your legs over his shoulder. your expression is the sweetest he's ever seen, face flushed, eyes glassy, but you still give him a small nod. he smiles, reaching down to twine his fingers with yours. "good girl."
you moan a long, broken moan as he scoops up whatever overflowing cum he can and pushes his tip into you. your legs jerk against his hold, your pussy sucking him in, and jing yuan tips his head back, allowing himself a moan. he’s sensitive too, flushed red from your gummy walls simulating him for all he’s worth…
…and when he looks back down, he finds himself lying on his side, staring into your bleary eyes as the feeling of you dissipates into a wet, uncomfortable tightness.
“had a good dream?” you whisper, voice still hoarse from sleep.
his fingers hook onto the band of your underwear, tugging swiftly downwards. “definitely. but i think i prefer being awake.”
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lovelytsunoda · 9 months
Text
slumber party // lance stroll
summary: when lances wife gets sick the morning of their daughters sixth birthday party, he offers to step in and play host. but of course, that’s before he finds out that it’s a slumber party, and he’s stuck with an army of six year olds until ten am the next morning.
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the party was planned down to every painstaking detail so that it was perfect
right down to the princess decorations they started putting up a day early to the disney cake that chloe was making herself
it was going to be perfect
until y/n wakes up on the morning of with a blistering headache and nausea
she thinks they’re going to have to call off the party. she’s in no condition to handle a group of children
until lance steps in. he’ll call esteban and mick and between the three of them, they should be able to run a party without a hitch, right?
wrong.
they all arrive at the same time, and when the girls go running into the naive living room and start setting sleeping bags up under the skylight, the panic in his eyes is evident
“did your wife not tell you it was a slumber party?”
“no, she did not.” he bites his lip, running his fingers through his hair. “but how hard can it be, right?”
The other mother just laughs before she goes back to her car
horrible decision, really, but he leaves esteban and mick in charge while he runs upstairs to check on y/n (and get more details on the slumber part of the party)
and when he comes back downstairs, the girls are crying and one of them is hiding under the couch
“i left you alone with them for five minutes, esteban! what did you do?”
esteban looks at the floor, and mick rolls his eyes.
“somebody thought it was a good idea to open the afternoon with scary stories.”
“esteban, they’re six!”
“one of the girls told him he looked like the rat from flushed away and he decided the best course of action was to tell her that the house was haunted and micheal meyers would get her in her sleep.”
“this house was built in 2017 and I’m pretty sure nobody died here!”
he puts on an old barbie movie, and the girls calm down enough that they sit on the floor to eat party mix and gummy bears while the boys go over the game plan in the kitchen.
“what did you like doing when you were six?” lance asks desperately “there has to be something!”
“karting.” esteban shrugs.
“i cannot take ten six year olds to the karting track.”
but that gives him a different idea
which is how they end up in the simulator room trying to load Mario kart instead of the fia approved programming
which turns into an all out war between the girls
well
more like the army of six year olds against estie lance and mick
lance definitely lets his daughter win
chloe drops by dressed head to toe like a disney princess and brings the cake
scotty brings pizza
please please please imagine lance giving all these little girls princess manicures
his daughter defo makes him wear a plastic tiara
when the kids finally conk out and go to sleep around nine thirty (and esteban because he’s fucking tired), he goes upstairs to check on his wife while mick starts to clean up
she’s curled up in bed with the dog, buried under blankets
but she could hear the laughter coming up through the floor
“the girls are having a great time, honey.” she says sleepily, pulling him into bed with her “you guys are doing a great job.”
“i know. but please, for the love of god, never leave me in charge of a slumber party again. also, you might need to explain to mike and my dad why a ton of six year olds were using the sim to play mario kart.”
TAGS
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @oconso @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @httpiastri @clemswrld @diorleclerc @lorarri @cartierre
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fairykazu · 2 months
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youre dating me! not him! ft. lyney࿐࿔ ✦cws: est. relationship, otome game (i.e. love and deepspace), rafayel my beloved, jealousy, feminine terms are used but reader is gender neutral, crackpost, lyney is trying to be batman to save chaos from gotham (his brain) and ooc ✦masterlist
lyney noticed something off with his girlfriend, giggling on their phone and of course, he thinks that youre either chatting away with your own friends or youve picked up a new hobby.
you have plenty of hobbies but you so happen to be invested in fandom culture.
hes well aware of how you read fanfiction on those websites, totally not because he snooped on your phone and accidentally found them. he will admit though that they are pretty well written, and he did steal some of the tropes and some of the pick up lines just to flirt and fluster you.
but you're not intensely reading fanfiction because you don't have the face, the "oh my god???" or "OH MY GODDD..... ?!?!?!?" so clearly, you're playing something else here. but you were being sneaky!
every time he tries to peek over, you hid your screen, turn off your phone. hell, you even invested into a privacy phone screen. although, these signs do sound like cheating. it most definitely is not because well… to put it lightly, you’re kind of a loser (affectionate) but its his favorite trait of yours!!!
wow.
that sounded more backhanded than he intended.
but he has to solve this mystery before the world falls to chaos…
he’s just going to “borrow” your phone. he had a plan and everything. he knew exactly what he was going to do. wait until you sleep, unlock your phone and find out your biggest secret at the moment.
but instead, midway of his plan, you had light mode on??? why are you the devil? knowing he was going to sneak onto your phone, you put your themes to light mode. its a sneak attack on his very character!
a bright light burned his eyes as he lowered the brightness because he will power through!! but he was being too loud when he was putting in your phone password.
lyney noticed you were waking up, quickly hiding your phone under a pillow case. as you yawned, you turned on the lamp, peeling open your eyes, “…mhmm, hey, lyney why are you up?”
“well, i couldnt sleep.” he replied back, snaking his arms around you. you laugh,
“is anything keeping you up?” funny you ASK, the joker of his heart !! you shifted in your side of the bed, facing his way. “ow, what the hell?” you reached under your pillowcase, “huh, why is my phone here?”
lyney, sweating, “um, maybe you forgot?”
“its even unlocked!”
“woww… wonder how it got there.”
silence filled the air as the both of you just stare at each other. well, he looked at your eyes with unwavering confidence and a midge of fear and you were straining your half asleep eyes at your boyfriend.
“lyney…”
“um… dont know! okay, fine i did it.”
“if you wanted to know, you can.” you handed him your phone, clearly even more suspicious. not really. he really wanted to get into this dark knight hero guy character.
he swiped through and nothing hut a new game. “oh! dont click that…”
“why?” he clicked on it anyway. he was met with kind of realistic men, painting, winking and other actions. its not as bad as he thought. or even, kind of typical girlfriend behavior.
hearing the theme song, you sighed, rubbing your temples. your tone was embarassed, “i.. its an otome game. i thought it would be weird—”
you met eye contact with lyney as you nervously laughed. “because its a dating simulator.”
“huh.”
“yeah…”
you could tell he was processing it in his mind. “wait, youre dating me,”
“yes.”
“and youre playing otome games, which is, dating sims.”
“yes…”
“but youre dating me! not him! ive been feeling neglect lately and you were gone in your prtend world of these…” he looks at the home screen. “very attractive suitors while i waste away to our homelife, trying to be better.”
“good narrative, babe.”
“thank you, i made it on the spot. wait, no, dont distract me!!” he made himself sound serious. “all jokes aside though, im glad it was a game. i thought it was more something serious.”
“such as?”
“like cheating! and i know how that sounds and i know you wouldn’t but the way you acted made it seem bad.”
he saw you load in the information he just gave you and you began to apologize. “dont worry, you just have to pay attention to me and i guess, whoever is on ‘amor and deepabyss’.”
“sounds like a plan!”
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puzzlekinq · 9 months
Note
pls write anything for edward ily
using this as an excuse to post horny eddie headcanons >:3 (i love you too!!)
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edward nashton x gn reader nsfw headcanons
amab reader inclusive !!
cw: pegging, power dynamics, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, jealousy, possessive behavior.
♡ okay first off. its 3 inches soft, 5 inches hard, pink tip, very thick. stretches you out very nicely.
♡ frequently jerks off. (insert paul dano chronic masturbater image) he has to beat his meat at least a couple times a day. plus i think he'd wake up with morning wood constantly. he has to crank one out as quick as he can if he doesnt want to be late for work, or else hes going in public with a hard on. (he's done it before and it was agony. its your fault he was hard. what have you done)
♡ he would never tell a single soul what kind of porn he watches. but i will, because im the one writing this post
♡ hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys the idea of you pegging him if ya dont have the necessary bits. the first video he watched of someone absolutely railing a guys ass, he got so painfully hard in an instant. ended up not being able to keep himself quiet as he furiously stroked his throbbing dick while he clamped his hand over his mouth for some sort of noise control.
♡ the first time he tried to fuck his own ass was a challenge. yes, his fingers sufficed, they were long enough to reach the right spot, but he didnt know lube was necessary (inexperienced virgin moment) so he just stuck them in dry, and that along with the pain of stretching himself open made for an unpleasant insertion. but he eventually got the hang of it and shot a massive load all over his stomach in like three minutes.
♡ huge praise kink. i'd say he has more of a thing for being praised than degraded, although he likes both. nobody has said a kind word to him in his life, rarely even a simple "thank you". he needs you to tell him hes good, that hes doing so well taking your strap, devouring your cunt, sucking your cock- anything. he just wants to hear that hes doing a good job, and that someone thinks positively of him for once, in a non-sexual context as well.
♡ but he also enjoys when youre a little mean to him in the bedroom, of course. he fucking loves being manhandled, choked, slapped, spit on, or having his dick or ass used just for your pleasure.
♡ LOVES EATING PUSSY!!!! the taste, the smell, the slick and cum all over his face while he grinds against the mattress, getting off to your moans- its all so incredibly hot to him. he'll literally beg to eat you out.
♡ loves sucking dick too!!! he loves taking your cock as far down his throat as he can, usually ending up gagging on it, but hes trying his best. and you know, practice makes perfect, and god, does he love practicing on you. your groans as you push his head down further onto your dick is enough to make him cream his pants. loves when you cum all over his face!!!! he prefers tasting you though.
♡ will cum too fast if he doesnt control himself, and thats why he'll edge himself for as long as you need. the overstimulation from edging feels so fucking good to him, so he really doesnt mind at all if chasing your orgasm takes a while. he gets so drunk off fucking you, he could spend the entire day rutting into your slick warmth.
♡ he can simulate that fantasy by letting you cockwarm him all night, or while hes doing paperwork, or just when youre cuddling on the couch. he cant get enough of being inside of you, he always wants more.
♡ sometimes he'll have to pull out of you and squeeze the base of his cock while he takes slow breaths to stop himself from cumming, his bottom lip crushed painfully between his teeth as sweat drips from his forehead, eyes squeezed shut while he lets out several high pitched whimpers at every exhale. its a pretty sight.
♡ hes veryyy vocal. even if he tried to be quiet he cannot shut up to save his life. has to at least whisper frantic, slurred praises into your ear about how good you feel, how beautiful/handsome/amazing you are, and how you take his cock so well like your holes were made to fit him inside of you, like a puzzle piece- his way of putting it into words.
♡ you were the missing piece in his life for so long, being inside of you is the closest he'll ever get to becoming one with a devine being such as you. he truly does worship you.
♡ hes even louder when hes close, rambling about how bad he wants to fill your tight little hole with his cum, and how good you feel milking his cock.
♡ he loves to edge you as much as he does to himself. your desperate pleads and whines for release, the release that is in his power to take away from you, gives him a blissful feeling of control. he'll make you beg for him to keep fucking you with his fingers, stroking your dick- whatever it would be, he wants to hear you cry for him. he thinks youre so lovely when you cry.
♡ he can be mean about it too. sometimes he'll listen and keep pleasuring you, but goes agonizingly slow, just to hear you beg for it harder, faster, just to make your pretty eyes gloss over with tears. he'll just giggle at you looking so pathetic under him, the knowledge of the state you're in being because of what hes doing to you gets him so excited.
♡ wipes away your tears with his thumb while mockingly cooing about how he knows it hurts, but youre just not asking nice enough.
♡ it honestly just gives him a major power trip. he's like this more often when he's in his riddler getup. you know, the thing about being his true self under the mask, no shame, no limits, blah blah.
♡ not to say he cant be submissive when hes the riddler. because you can totally make him drop the scary, dominant act in like 2 seconds. hes not as tough as he feels in the costume.
♡ but if you let him indulge in his heightened ego he'll make sure you cant even stand up for a couple hours. he got too sillygoofy (wrecked ur guts with his dick) sorry
♡ he's so easy to turn on. it's he really just you being you that gets him so worked up. woke up to your sleepy, angelic self cuddled up next to him? horny. you gave him a hug that lingered for too long? horny. youre wearing his jacket that looks adorably big on you? MEGA HORNY.
♡ he just likes when you wear his clothes in general. he'll take any opportunity he can to offer you his clothes. he thinks you look really cute and hot in them and it gets him all flustered.
♡ he cant pick between chest, ass, or thighs. all of them are so good to him. his head between your thighs, or shoved in your chest with his tongue lapping at your nipples, or having his palm full of the plush flesh of your ass while he fucks you from behind- its all so heavenly to him.
♡ hes a tummy guy too. if you have a chubbier tummy he'll go SO nuts over it. he needs to squeeze your love handles or he'll die. he loves tummy rolls too!! he is GOING to drool over your body no matter what size or shape you are.
♡ speaking of your tummy, he likes having his hand on your stomach while he fucks you. its like a reminder of how deep inside of you he is. he loves having you full of him.
♡ loves the idea of breeding you and getting you pregnant, but if you cant, having you full of his cum is still his way of reassuring himself that you belong to him.
♡ hes very possessive when it comes to you. youre the one good thing hes ever had, and hes not letting you go. ever. and he lets you know that with the way he repeats the word "mine" like a mantra against your love bite covered neck.
♡ he gets extremely jealous easily, and the best way to make him feel better is to let him bury himself inside of you and mark up your body to alleviate his insecurities. he'll leave bruises and hickeys in very noticeable spots, and be like "oops, sorry 🥺" but hes absolutely not. he did it on purpose as his way of telling all of gotham "fuck you, theyre mine."
oki doki im gonna stop there or this post is gonna be way too long . i have lots of Thoughts about this guy bfgdudhdh i hope this is like. good. or decent
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bitterchocoo · 7 months
Text
God-ish
Fyodor Dostoevsky | M. Reader
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"Gott ist tot."
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The days [Name] live are as normal as it can get. Wake up, get ready, eat, work, go home, sleep, rinse and repeat.
Despite being an ability user. His life is as regular as a normal human. Even if people say it's far safer that way [Name] felt like he wanted to tear his hair out.
'How boring..'
'It's the same every time...'
'All of it is so monotonous...'
Those thoughts circle around his mind, he had been living his life the same way over and over again, it's bound to be boring, and yet... Somehow people didn't complain about it, they didn't say anything about it, they don't look depressed about it. It's like they're used to this "monotonous life" or they just suck it up.
Either way, this made [Name] starts to think that they're brain dead or something. Humans are creative creatures who could think freely and yet they trap themselves in a monotonous repeating life? What's wrong with them? Don't they get bored? Don't they get tired? Don't they get depressed by how repeative it is?
'That’s so meaningful and cool.' He thought sarcastically, leaning against a wall, he watched these human beings go with their day with crossed arms. How meaningful... To think they actually would sacrifice their free thinking to blindly follow this "religion"-like way...
They all blindly follow it without even knowing what they're doing as if it's second nature for them to do so. As if it's a code that had been programmed into them. As if they're in a simulation. How meaningful and cool...
And yet every time his co-workers would ramble on about their "dreams" he can't help but think. 'Your dream... It’s big... Too big.'
They all dream about such big things, but did they ever stop and think just how ridiculous it is? How are they going to obtain such a thing when they themselves are blindly following this "religion."?
Their dreams are like a prayer of self-discipline disguised as criticism. They say they're independent. They say they don't need anyone. They say that they're their own person. They say that they're going to make it big one day as their dreams become a reality. But is that really all true? Or are they just criticism in disguise?
You criticize your family, your friends, your co-workers and those around you.
You say you're an independent person yet you can't build a dream alone. You say you're your own person yet you can't help but follow new trends and blindly follow this moral code. You say you're going to make it big one day yet when is that? And how are you going to achieve it if you're still wallowing in self pity?
It's not logical.
What's holding these human beings back from actually doing those things? The answer... Is this "religion."
They all think that it's right to follow this set of rules. Sure some of them are worth following like respecting each other and such. But did they even follow that in the end? No. They don't. Some people ended up murdering one another. Some people ended up betraying one another. The list goes on.
Yet in the end they argue that they're right.
'That's disgusting..'
'It's tiny... Your mind... It's tiny.'
'Lonely because of your genius how cool…how cool…'
They all think they've become some sort of genius once they've "figured out" these set of rules they follow so blindly and think that they have the right to look down on the ones who do follow them. But in the end they're still the same as them. They've become this "authority" that looks down on others once just because they don't understand something like that.
They say fame, and money corrupts all. Oh how true that is...
Their morals die once they've got them. [Name] salute to those who still maintain them. After all... This fame and money are like the devil's advocate.
How... God-ish... To resist such temptation...
.
.
"I understand... You wish to be free from this mondaine world, yes?"
Those are the words that man said to him.
He saw through the mask he so carefully crafted for years and saw right through his soul.
How God-ish..
[Name] still remember their first meeting...
Back then he didn't even hesitate to use his ability to defend himself, even if it meant killing a few people. His survival is at risk here. Isn't it only logical to do so?
Then after all the chaos.... Fyodor found him...
Despite how cold his body felt... [Name] can't help but feel warm.. Despite how cold he is... He felt some warmth and maybe even closure at the thought that someone had seen him.. And didn't ridicule him for having such a mindset...
.
.
Pretending to be God by denying God.
[Name] was never a religious person. But for once in his life he felt like his silent prayers have been heard. He's free from this mondaine life he had been living.
'I’m becoming a fan on the contrary.'
He had become a fan of something he had originally hated....
He had blindly followed this "religion."
No... This is different...
He's not following anything...
He's merely...
...the Devil's advocate.
What can he say? He had fallen for a Devil.
And the devil kindly reciprocates.
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casuallyawkardd · 9 months
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write a imagine where reader offered to be a nanny for mayday and the newest member of the HQ, jess's son, and when Miguel arrives home, he can't take his eyes off reader as she puts the children to bed slept. And I couldn't get out of Miguelito's mind when he wants to put a baby in you, please.
Hello! I am well! Just got some good news in my personal life so even better than usual 🥰 Anywho I think this idea is so cute so let's dive in
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes but mostly PG, not fluent in spanish so plz correct grammar/spelling errors
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"What the hell is this?"
Your head whips around to see your husband's figure in the entryway of the apartment. Miguel had just gotten off work, it had been a long day and he was hoping to just spend the rest of his afternoon at home; followed by curling up in bed with his arms wrapped around you. Maybe even do a little more than sleep once the two of you got under the covers.
Instead, he comes home to find you sitting on the floor surrounded by baby blocks and plastic animals. Miguel immediately recognized your little guests. Mayday, who was currently crawling her way over to greet him, and Gerry, Jess's new baby, who you were burping over your shoulder.
You, having ignored Miguel's initial comment, somehow made it to your feet without using your hands, which were occupied with Gerry, taking a few steps in his direction. "Jess and Peter stopped by and said they needed a sitter while they were training," you explain like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Last I checked, they were both married," Miguel's arm scooped up Mayday, who had already crawled halfway up his leg, "Can't MJ or Jess's husband watch them?"
"I don't know, I saw cute babies and said yes," you shrugged simply. The deadpan look Miguel gives you makes you chuckle softly, "C'mon, don't be like that. It's only for a few hours. Besides, it'll give you some practice."
"Practice for what?" You roll your eyes at his stubbornness, planting Gerry on one hip to make room for Mayday on the other, taking both babies to the kitchen for a snack. "....¿Mi amor?"
It took some convincing, but eventually Miguel was aboard the babysitter train. In a way, you felt like it was like you were playing house with him, a few hours of simulated family time. Playing pretend with the little toys Peter had brought with him, bouncing the little ones in your lap and pretending they were flying as you maneuvered them through the air. Something about the domesticity of it was charming to you, watching Miguel trying to fetch Mayday after she had crawled up onto the ceiling. She didn't make it easy for him, but seeing your husband's face shift from annoyed to amused once she fell into his arms warmed your heart.
The four of you were now sitting on the couch. It had gotten late, the two little ones having fallen asleep while watching some random kids movie you had thrown on. You looked between the baby boy in your arms and your husband, who currently had Mayday passed out on his chest.
"This is nice," you say, Miguel glancing at you once you have his attention. It makes you suppress a giggle, knowing he's probably trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake Mayday.
"S'pose it is," he begrudgingly agrees. looking back at the television. "Although, the science in this movie is completely unfounded. I don't think you can bring someone back from the dead with the power of love."
His commentary has you scoffing, "It's about the message, Miguelito, not the science."
"...Well it's a pretty shity message."
"Are you saying you don't think love conquers all?"
"Ye-" the words die on Miguel's tongue when he notices how your eyes narrow and the corners of your mouth turn down, "No? No. I'm not saying that."
Your expression softens, but only slightly, turning your attention to Gerry who's tiny hand is wrapped around your pointer finger. "I love baby hands. They're so chunky and small," you voice your thoughts, absentmindedly pressing down on Gerry's hand with your thumb, "Aww, squishy, little humans."
"Oh, you've got it bad," Miguel chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, "Cómo se dice...oh yeah, baby fever." How do you say...
You shoot him a smirk, sitting a little straighter, "Maybe I do, what about it?"
Something in the way he looks at you shifts, the glimmer of admiration turning into something much darker. The kind of look that makes you hot under the collar, "Maybe I'll have to find the cure."
A knock at the door pulls you from the conversation, face red as if you just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing. There's an internal sigh of relief when you see it's only Jess and Peter coming to pick up the kids. In all honesty, you only half pay attention to the small talk that ensues, your answers simple and brief when they ask how the kids were and if they had gotten dinner.
As the door shuts, the three of you exchanging your final farewells, a familiar arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into your husband's firm chest. His lips tickle your ear, making you jump as a chill goes down your spine.
"Let's go to bed, mi amor. I think I know just the thing to make you feel better," he's uncharacteristically playful with his words, adjusting his hold so his hand rests on your stomach. "te verás tan bonita con mi bebé dentro de ti." You'll look so pretty with my baby inside you.
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@prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx
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talkfastlibrary · 3 months
Text
Soft & Sweet–Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)
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An Arrangement Masterlist
Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist
word count: 2.7k
warnings: mentions of cramps, period symptoms, no blood mentions, soft!jake
Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!
Enjoy!
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Jake would like to think he’s become a sort of expert on you over the course of the months you’ve been living with him. He knows you snooze your alarm at least three times before waking up and if you snooze it four times that means you’ll roll over and snuggle on him. He knows how you take your coffee and that you immediately change into comfy clothes when you’re home from work. 
He makes sure to keep popcorn in stock and hot cocoa in the pantry because it’s a comfort thing for you at night before bed. Being an expert on you and also being surrounded by women growing up, he knew exactly when your period was coming around. 
The week before it happened you’d be a bit snippy with him and crave a multitude of things. The few days leading into it left you being extra affectionate with him and you’d smother his cheek, jawline, and neck in kisses while his hand would rub at your lower back. The first couple days of your period were spent in pain (even though you tried to hide it from him) and he’d make sure a heating pad was available. 
While he was gathering his things from the locker room after a flight simulation, a notification dinged on his phone. It was the period app he downloaded so he would be prepared signaling that today would be Day One. All this week you were being feisty and would sleep in a tank top and your underwear because you got so hot at night. 
Jake lifts a light blue bag from the bottom of his locker that has a stuffed brown bear inside that can be heated up in the microwave for cramps and comfort. 
“What’s that?” Rooster asks, nodding towards the bag. “Is it Sugar’s birthday?”
“No, I bought this a month ago. It’s a stuffed animal that can be heated in the microwave,” Jake explains.
“Why would you want it to be warm?”
“It’s to help with period cramps, Rooster.”
“Wait, really? I should get one for Serena, she shrinks into a ball every month from the pain…” Rooster purses his lips and pulls out his phone. “Can you send me the info?”
***
Jake gets home after you because he picked up extra candy and other favorites of yours. When he carried all the bags into the kitchen he tried listening for the TV or your music playing but all he heard was silence. He leaves the grocery bags on the counter but makes sure to grab the gift bag with the brown bear inside on his way to find you. 
First, he looks in your bedroom and bathroom just in case you wanted to be alone for a bit and both are empty. Next stop is his bedroom and you’re standing in the middle of his closet with a hanger and your sweater in your hands, your tank top pulled up a little on your back. 
“Hey, Sugar, sorry I’m late. I stopped–Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” he notices your shoulders are shaking, broken sobs coming from your mouth. He drops the bag on the floor spinning you around. His heart ached seeing your eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet and smeared black from your eye makeup as you cried. 
As soon as you see him you drop the hanger and sweater so you can fold into his chest, his arms wrap around you tightly. He hushes a kiss into your hair holding you while you cry your day and emotions out. After a few moments your arms fall slack, your sniffling becomes more frequent and Jake knows you’re done crying. At least for now. 
“C’mere,” he keeps his arms around you as he leads you to his bed. He sits you down then kneels in front of you, his thumbs wiping away the remaining tears and makeup from your cheeks. “Talk to me, what happened?”
The words tumble out of you about all the things that went wrong today. Reynolds was sick so you told him to stay home and you drove Jake’s spare car to work but then was stuck by a train and you were already running late. Then customers' orders were backed up, some had not so nice words to share with you, you and Serena got into a little bit of a fight. Your stomach hurt all day. 
“And then, to top it all off,” you sniff wiping at your nose.
“Hang on,” he pats your knees and gets a tissue from your side of the bed. “Here, blow your nose, baby.” 
You do as he says, it hurts your head because of the pressure from crying but you can at least breathe a bit better now. Jake takes the tissue and tosses it into the small wastebasket next to the bed.
“Thank you. To top it all off, when I was changing in the closet, my bracelet broke,” you bite your lip and open your fist to reveal the broken bracelet. It was a gift from Betty and somehow the clasp just snapped in half. 
“Let me see,” he plucks the piece of jewelry in his fingers, touching it delicately. “I know a place that will fix this no problem. Were any of the pieces missing?”
“I don’t think so. It’ll really get fixed?”
“I promise, Sugar. I’ll take it first thing tomorrow morning,” he picks up your hand kissing it. “I have a gift for you.” 
“A gift?” you sniff a few more times watching him move into the closet. He appears with a blue gift bag and your brows furrow. 
“For you,” he presents it on your lap.
You pull the tissue paper out and find a stuffed brown bear staring at you. It’s a little hefty when you take it out of the bag and you get a faint whiff of lavender. It has the sweetest face and is super soft and fluffy.
“I can heat it up in the microwave and it will help with your cramps,” Jake explains. His fingers stroke up and down your thigh. 
“Jake, he’s so cute, I love it,” you hug your arms around his neck. “Thank you. Ah!”
There’s a spasm of pain in your lower stomach as a cramp hits you, Jake’s hands grip the sides of your stomach gently. 
“Change into comfy clothes, baby and I’ll go heat up the bear.” He kisses the side of your head. “What do you want for dinner?”
“I kinda want pancakes.”
“Coming right up.” 
He helps you stand up and you move back into the closet to put on your favorite pair of sweats and one of Jake’s t-shirts. While he’s making noise in the kitchen you wash your face and take a few Midol while your stomach throbs. You press your hands to the lower part of your tummy as you head downstairs into the kitchen. Jake’s back is to you while he works over the stove and you sit on a stool doubling over so your face is on the island counter. 
“Why aren’t you laying in bed?” he asks when he turns around, spatula in hand. 
“I don’t know. Wanna be by you…missed you,” you mumble.
“I missed you too, Sugar,” he grins plopping a completed pancake on a plate. “I don’t want you to be in pain while I cook dinner. Go on and lay down.”
“Fine. But I’m going to the living room.”
You join the sectionals against the couch so it’s one big square couch and you place the pillows in the comfiest position and blankets. Even though you’ll be kicking them off as soon as you’re warmed up. You’re settled in the center scrolling through streaming services trying to find a movie or show to watch. You weren’t sure what you were in the mood for. 
“Do you want your bear while you eat or after?”
“After.”
Jake brings over the plate full of pancakes, maple syrup, and your extra large water bottle.
“Water?” you pout, eyeing it up as you take a fork from him. 
“It’s supposed to help your cramps. Did you drink enough water today?” he asks, cutting up the pancakes and you remain silent. “That’s what I thought. Eat up and I’ll warm up your bear.”
“Okay. Thanks for making dinner,” you lean over kissing his cheek. “How was flying for you today?”
He tells you about his day while he scrolls through Disney+ and selects a movie. 
“Why’d you pick this movie?” you whine noticing it’s The Fault in Our Stars. 
“Because, on day one you always pick this movie so you can cry some more,” he kisses your nose. “And you get extra snuggly with me so that’s a win for me.”
The pancakes are all gone and you help him clean everything up even though he chastises you the whole time. He places the bear in the microwave and the tea kettle whistles loudly. 
“Peppermint tea,” he winks, ripping open the tea bag. He grabs your favorite mug then pours the hot water over the bag. 
The simplest of actions has tears springing in your eyes and he notices, of course he notices, because he wraps you in his arms. 
“It’s okay, I know it hurts. Just a few more minutes and the bear will help, I promise.”
“No, it’s not that,” you shake your head. You frame his cheeks with your hands, enjoying the smooth sensation of his skin and the early prickles of his stubble already coming through. “You’re so good to me Jake, no one has ever noticed the little things like this before. It’s…you’re amazing, you know that?” 
You extend up on your toes giving him a kiss. He thinks it’s a simple ‘thank you’ kiss so he pulls away too soon but you chase his lips eagerly. So eagerly that you push him back against the counter, your fingers tugging on his hair. Jake’s hands grip your waist, his tongue soft against yours. When his arms pull you in tighter, you press against his stomach and it pushes a little on your lower stomach. You squeak a little in pain. 
“Sorry, sorry,” he rushes just as the microwave beeps. His palm rests lightly on your lower tummy. “Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll bring the tea and bear over, hm?” 
He kisses your forehead as you go, feet shuffling on the floor. The tv is paused on the movie and once you’re horizontal on the couch, your cramps lighten up a little bit. You watch Jake mosey about, waiting desperately for him to be by you. When he finally does rejoin you on the couch he sets the cup of tea next to your water. 
“Who’s ready for some bear cuddles?�� he smiles, holding up the bear. 
“He needs a name,” you say, taking the stuffed animal from him. 
The smell of lavender is stronger now that it’s warm and you place it across your belly. Jake crawls next to you, spreading his legs so you can scoot in the space between him. 
“I’m sure you’ll come up with a name. Ready for the movie?”
You try to pay attention to the movie but Jake’s fingers are tickling your stomach above the bear, the warmth is really helping and the smell of lavender is soothing. Jake’s other hand tickles his fingers up and down your arm, goosebumps rising in their wake and your body starts to relax. 
“Feels nice,” you sigh nuzzling into his chest.
“Good,” he murmurs in your hair. 
“And thank you for the bear, he’s helping the pain.”
“You’re welcome, Sugar. Does he have a name yet?” 
“I think Mr. BB.”
“Mr. BB?” 
“Yeah, Mr. Brown Bear, but BB for short.”
“It’s perfect.” 
The movie continues and you cry at the same parts you always cry at but Jake holds you through it all, making sure you’re sipping from your water bottle. When it’s over, the pair of you head upstairs for bed and you change into the silk shorts Jake bought. His sheets are cool and he remembers to turn the fan on high. 
“Do you get cold with the fan on?” you ask nibbling on your lip.
“No, you keep me toasty warm,” he laughs crawling in next to you. “What time do you work tomorrow?” 
“Open until six. Friday’s are our busiest days,” you yawn loudly. 
“Will you be alright?”
“Yeah, I’ll power through. First day’s always the worst.”
“Sometimes it lingers in the second, Sugar.”
“I’m a tough cookie,” you giggle, hooking your ankle over his leg. 
“I know,” he smacks your butt affectionately under the covers. “I hate that it pains you so much. If you need anything, give me a call. I have the whole day off.”
“Lucky,” you yawn again.
“Go to sleep, baby.”
And because he tells you to and you’re oh so tired, you fall asleep fairly quickly to his fingers tracing designs on your back. 
Suddenly your eyes are open staring into darkness and your hand is splayed across your stomach with tight throbbing pain. There’s an all too familiar pressure between your legs and somehow you roll out of bed and into the bathroom. You use the toilet and replace your feminine product you use then take some more Midol to help your pain. 
You fall back into bed and curl up, biting on your knuckle as another wave pulses you, you don’t want to wake Jake up. He stirs behind you and his arm wraps over your belly. 
“Are you hurting?” he asks softly. 
“Yeah, woke me up,” you whisper. 
“Where’s it the worst?” 
You move his hand to the spot that hurts the most and he applies a little pressure, you press down a little harder and sigh as the pain alleviates. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep again, you tried watching TikToks and Jake turned on an old nostalgic show which finally lulled you asleep. 
It felt as if you only closed your eyes for a moment because Jake was kissing your cheek and brushing your hair to wake you up. You groan at him. 
“You slept through all of your alarms, sweetheart,” Jake’s voice is soft and raspy in your ear. “It’s time to go to work.”
“I’m tired,” you whine.
“I know.” 
A kiss to your cheek.
“I hurt.”
“I know.”
Another kiss to your cheek and you finally open your eyes, the lids feel super heavy. Your body feels heavy too when you sit up. A wave of vertigo washes over you causing you to nearly fall forward on the floor but Jake catches you.
“Woah, you’ve never had it this bad before. If you stay home will the store be okay?” He sits next to you making sure to keep a firm grip on you. 
“Umm,” you think over who’s going to be at the store today. Serena, Brynne and Dom will all be there and since it’s Friday your two high school interns will also be there. “Yeah, they should be fine. There will be five people there.”
“Good. Tell them you’re not coming in and go back to sleep,” he moves off the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to heat up Mr. BB for you. Do you want tea or anything?”
“No thanks,” you shake your head letting your fingers fly across your phone’s keyboard as you text everyone. “I hope Serena won’t be mad at me for calling in.”
“I’m sure she’ll understand, Sugar. I’ll be right back,” he kisses your forehead then exits the room. 
After receiving confirmation and well wishes from everyone, you fall back under the covers waiting for Jake to return. When he does, he rests Mr. BB on your lower belly and you nuzzle into Jake’s chest.
“You don’t work today, right?” you ask him.
“Nope, I’m all yours.”
“Good. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I’ll always take care of you, y/n,” Jake mumbles into your hair. His fingers tickle designs up and down your back, it’s so soothing and relaxing. 
“I love that you do,” you mumble into his shirt. 
Jake’s ears perk up at that four letter word but when he looks down to ask you about it, you’re already deeply asleep. He smiles, loving that you’re so comfortable with him and trusting he’ll take care of you.
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