#Double Bottom Pattern

[guptalok]

How to trade using Double Top and Double Bottom Patterns?

There are plenty of indicators and strategies to make the trading decisions such as VWAP, Moving Average Crossovers, Stochastic, RSI, MACD, etc. A few of these indicators are said leading indicators for showing early signs for an entry while the others are called lagging indicators which signal for an entry a little later. You might also like: What is Intraday Trading? The leading and lagging…

[profiteadeveloper]

Mastering the DOUBLE BOTTOM FOREX TRADING for Maximum Gain 2023

[cy-lindric]

Your stained glass window vest is STUNNING! Are you willing to share your pattern, or its source if it's available for purchase?

Thank you ! I'm going to take the opportunity for a permanent answer post to this question since I've given the pattern in dozens of comments ever since I started posting about the project, but obviously that isn't a convenient way for people to find the information !

Tracery Vest by Kathleen Sperling aka Wipinsanity on Ravelry and on her own website

As you can see the shape of the garment itself is a bit different from what I did. The ribbing in the original makes for a nice fitted silhouette, but I'm quite short in the burst and not hourglass shaped at all, so I made some alterations. I reduced the corrugated ribbing to half of its length, and added a few rows of colourwork to close the ribbing lines into an archway pattern. Then, I added one repetition of the windows at the bottom of the pattern chart, before returning to the pattern instructions as if I'd just finished the ribbing section. I also changed the bind-off in pattern into a stretchy bind off in order to keep the armholes and neckline a little looser. I also added a central double decrease every other row for the vneck.

There you go ! Def more info than you asked for but I hope you don't mind me using your ask as a jumping-off point.

Cheers everyone !

[stockexperttrading]

Unlock the Secrets of Trading with Top Chart Patterns! Explore the world of chart patterns with Funded Traders Global. From understanding the basics of technical analysis to recognizing common chart patterns like head and shoulders, double tops, and flags, our blog equips you with the knowledge to enhance your trading skills. Discover advanced patterns like pennants, wedges, and harmonic patterns, and gain practical tips for effective trading. Improve your risk management, pinpoint entry and exit points, and combine chart patterns with technical indicators. Start your journey towards trading success today with Funded Traders Global!

[2kiran]

“DOUBLE FANTASY”

PAIRING: König x Reader Reader is a male. Bottom König. KINKTOBER CW: SMUT, double (anal) penetration, use of dildo

König’s cheek is pressed against the silky pillow, his arms supporting himself beneath the cushion. His knees wobble with the effort of presenting his lower half to you, exhaustion spiraling around his tension-marked muscles. The constant dipping of your cockhead into his clenched hole causes him to let out a whine, never fully situating inside of him. Mindless strings of curses in his language fall from his lips, one of them nearly a tinge too lustful.

“Please... need it now.” He whimpers, shuffling himself backwards to you.

You sigh out of imitated disappointment, pretending to disapprove of his chafed state. “Can never be grateful, huh?” You chastise, your hands curling around the thick muscle of his hips. A man of his status so desperate for your cock elicits a pleased sigh from you, your length impossibly hardening. Finally, you give in—pushing the half of it in carefully, you gently coax him to lighten up for the stretch to mitigate.

You believe he’s calmed down his own unfulfilled soul, but that thought is quickly put an end to when he drags out a whine.

“No,” König shakes his head, breathless, “put it in, too. Please.”

Right. The toy.

You deliberately roll your hips, the gradual but sure friction laps at his neglected cock, pre-cum continuously beading from the slit. You grab the faux length behind you, one that’s already soaked due to König’s mouth.

“Color?” You ask, rubbing in inattentive patterns into his skin as you feel him tighten in anticipation.

“Green. It’s green, hur—ngh!”

He lets out a moan—one uncharacteristically high-pitched from his throat, a sound that immediately strokes your ego—as you plunge the tip of the dildo alongside your own dick. “You okay?” You don’t move yet, leaning down to offer a soothing kiss to his back. He nods all too eagerly, breathing deeply through his mouth. That’s not what you want. “I need words, K.” Threateningly, you begin to slide out of him.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry, schatzi,” König gasps, sensing you unintentionally brushing against his sweet spot, “I’m okay, I’m okay, want you to continue.”

Your cock pulses upon hearing the hint of a needy noise akin to a whimper in the tone of his voice, and with barely any resistance, you inch by inch rock back inside until you’re situated to the hilt. He sputters, trying desperately to keep his legs apart.

He’s met with the blunt prodding of the toy once more, your hand incessantly driving the silicone into him bit by bit. With that, he’s frozen for a moment, forced to bite down on the pillow underneath him and clench and unclench helplessly around the two of you.

“Move,” König abruptly gasps, drool dripping down the corner of his lips, “move, ahnn, move—”

You don’t need to be told twice.

Though, you only move your wrist, thrusting the toy in and out. Confusion writes itself over his features, but it’s quickly replaced with his eyes rolling back as the false length hits his prostate just right.

Glancing downwards where the both of your bodies connect, you have to steel yourself on the bed to not restlessly have him take you then and there. His hole’s nearly thoroughly wrecked—all loose and ready to receive what you give him.

And he is, his hips are already subconsciously rolling back to meet the thrusts of the toy, craving the burn and small gnaws of pain that only you can give him.

[suppermariobroth]

Top: on the Mushroom Bridge track in Mario Kart: Double Dash, several whirlpools can be seen in the water, such as in the top right corner of the image.

Bottom left: as the water is out of bounds, the whirlpools are far away and seen at an angle, making it difficult to discern any details; in addition, they move rapidly. Looking at a still image of a whirlpool from directly above, we can see that the wave pattern actually includes many small stars, which is very difficult to see in-game.

Bottom right: extracting the textures used for the whirlpool from the files confirms this, showing the stars clearly.

Main Blog | Patreon | Twitter | Bluesky | Small Findings | Source

[noirandchocolate]

My Coworker’s Mom’s blanket is complete!

My squares are, from top to bottom: 4th on row 1, 2nd, 3rd, & 4th on row 2, 1st & 2nd on row 4, and 1st & 2nd on row 5. All the rest are CMom’s. When choosing the squares I’d do, I picked a mix of graphic ones (the trees), cables, openwork/lace and textured patterns, to go with the ones CMom made.

Once all my squares were done, I made sure all 20 had crocheted borders with the same number of stitches per side and then crocheted them all together. Finally, I put on one of my favorite blanket borders: one wrong-side row of half-double crochet (so the ‘extra’ bar of the stitches ends up on the right-side), and one right-side row of {backward single crochet+chain two+skip one} repeated. I love borders with backward crochet stitches; I think they make things look so ‘finished’ on the edges.

So, hopefully there will be a day soon when Coworker and I are at the office at the same time (rare) so I can show her these photos and set up when I can give this to her. <3 I really enjoyed completing her Mom’s final creation and I hope she’ll think I did it justice!

Thanks to everybody on my original post about this who encouraged me and sent kind messages. I didn’t expect this to attract attention like it has and I’ve had fun reading other people’s similar stories. As I said in the reblog chains on that post, crafting really brings people together! So hey, all you knitters, crocheters, and other assorted fiber-craft creators—hope you’re having a great time with your projects!

[forexeduline]

[guptalok]

Discover the power of double top and double bottom patterns, click the link to unlock the secrets!

[gghostwriter]

Time is a Fickle Thing

Girl Dad!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer realizes how important it is to occupy the present and be active in the little things Trope: Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.48k a/n: this was inspired by an essay I read over the week titled ‘Learning to Measure time in Love & Loss’ by Chris Huntington. It’s very profound so I would suggest you go read it—Andrew Garfield also read it on the podcast called ‘Modern Love’ so go listen to that too. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

There was still an array of paperwork to be done in his desk at Quantico. Case files that needed to be written down and reviewed by his unit chief, Emily.

The past Dr. Spencer Reid—the one who was still wet behind the ears and green in the eyes of his team members, would have found the droll of filling out forms therapeutic. But now at his age of 40, everything else—typing out information and grading essays, were chores that demanded his every waking attention. He had found himself agitated with the looming workload that seemed never ending.

“Daddy,” a sweet voice murmured beside him. The source—a small body nestling closer to his side.

He hummed in reply, absentmindedly as his brain was preoccupied with estimating how many hours he needed to finish checking submissions in lieu of sleep.

Tiny hands patted his cheeks. “Daddy,” the sweet voice now coated with a hint of urgency.

Spencer’s hazel eyes locked with a pair of replicas. “Yes, Aurora?”

“What happens next?”

Shaking his head, he glanced down at her choice for a bedtime story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and realized it was the end of a chapter. Reading together was a sacred ritual he formed ever since he had found out you were pregnant.

It made you giggle when you pointed out that she, still a fetus cocooned safely in your body, would not understand the works of The Giving Tree or The Rainbow Fish. He rattled of statistics that although she couldn’t understand the meaning, she could still hear quite well.

In truth, he wanted her to know him—his voice, his presence. Her father who was quite scared to bring in an innocent into the world.

Still, scared even.

Her pink bottom lip jutting out into a frown, reminiscent of the ‘look’ his wife gives to him that renders him speechless and pliable to demands.

It was fascinating how you and him created such a perfect combination—a seven year old daughter who was into reading, as he was, and confident, as you were.

“Daddy, what happens next?”

The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. The look of exasperation on her tiny face was adorable.

Everything about her was captivating.

“Well, sweet pea,” he began to close the book. “That would be a story for another night.”

“But—”

“Remember what we promised?”

She sighed, gripping her white bunny—a gift from Aunt Penelope, closer. “One chapter only.”

“That’s right,” tucking the stray tendrils away from her angelic face.

As he started to stand up from his precarious lying position on her gingham patterned bed, Aurora’s tiny warm hands gave his sleeves a double tug.

“You’re forgetting something, Daddy.”

He leaned in to give her forehead a kiss.

“Is that it?” He teased.

She giggled, her feet kicking under the covers. “No!”

Brushing his fingers behind her neck—her tickle spot that matched yours. “What about this one?”

Aurora squealed, her infectious happy energy warming his heart. She was a treasure and he felt blessed to be considered her father.

“Stop Daddy, stop!” She sat up, hands crossing over her chest to state she meant business.

Spencer conceded, showing his hands in front of him—a sign of surrender. If she was standing, he could just imagine her little foot stomping on the ground and taking in a wide stance she learned from observing Uncle Morgan.

“Mommy always said you never forget anything,” she argued. “She said you have an ei-eid—perfect memory.”

“Eidetic memory, Aurora, and yes, mommy is right.”

She tilted her head then, her wavy hazel hair swaying behind her. “Then how come you don’t remember?”

“How about giving me a clue then?”

She huffed. “Best part, worst part, Daddy! You forgot to ask me!”

Oh.

That was another ritual he added when Aurora started to learn how to string words along. Although there were nights away from a case that he could not read to her, he always made it a point to ask her via call the best and worst part of her day. It made him feel connected with her even though he was miles away.

“Oh how could I forget, sweet pea,” Spencer sat back on the bed, tucking her back as he went. “Now, can I know what your worst part is?”

She went silent for a moment. Deep in thought, brows scrunching together.

“When Mommy didn’t allow me to wear my new rain boots to school. She said it’s because it wasn’t raining but I really wanted to wear them.”

He laughed, having heard of the small disagreement you had which made you late for work. “We only wear rain boots when the weather is sad, remember?”

Aurora nodded.

“And what about the best part?”

She smiled, the answer quickly spilling out of her. “This is, Daddy.”

Spencer could feel the effect her simple words had to his system. It warmed his heart that expanded for two when she came into the world. It put a halt to any train of thought in his brain.

“Want to know a secret?” He whispered. “This is mine too.”

Tiny hands rubbed her drooping eyes before further nestling in her bed. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”

He slowly crept out of the room.

“I love you too,” he flicked the light off and closed the door behind him.

Spencer found himself repeating those words and slowly lamenting over missed milestones in her burgeoning life.

Her first steps.

Her first tooth falling out.

Her latest family presentation in school in which you recorded her explaining where he was and what he does for a living—catching bad guys.

In his focused dedication in trying to make the country a better place for her future, Spencer had forgotten to appreciate the present, her growth, and the very notion that time could not be reversed to live the mundane things that make everyday worth living.

Aristotle once said ‘time crumbles things; everything grows old under the power of time and is forgotten through the lapse of time.’

It was a concept he was familiar with by the ripe age of nine, having spent his early youth in isolation and soaking up every thinking thought from the great minds that had roamed this planet before him.

He never forgot the words—not that his memory would allow him to.

And yet, as he found himself sitting on his desk, a cup of fresh tea in front of him, the phrase came to surface like a forgotten pair of lucky socks hidden within the depths of a cabinet.

Perhaps it was his heart that kept it hidden or better yet forgotten, a feat on its own. Perhaps during his tender age, he had yet sculpted the capacity to digest what it meant to his very soul.

Or perhaps, it was a sign from the unknown to focus and live in the present.

She was growing and becoming her very own person right before his unfocused eyes.

Spencer sighed, feeling a pair of arms glide to wrap around his shoulders.

“What’s got you so down, handsome?” You left a kiss on his cheek.

He intertwined your hands together. “It’s just—I missed out on so many milestones. Does that make me an absentee father?”

You walked around him before propping yourself on his lap. “I don’t think so, Spence. Why? What brought this on?”

“I found myself thinking about work when I should be focused on spending time—reading to Aurora. It made me feel sad that she was looking forward to our nightly routine and there I was, thinking about paperwork.”

There was a flash of sadness in your eyes as you caressed his cheek. “That’s alright. We all have our moments, Spence. You just got caught up with life and the responsibilities it has given you,” a lithe finger twisted a loose tendril blocking hos vision. “I know—we know, Aurora and I, that you being busy doesn’t mean you love us any less.”

“I just wish I wouldn’t miss anymore, love.”

You trailed kisses all over his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, before landing perfectly on his awaiting lips. “And I know you’d try your best moving forward.”

“Have I told you I love you?” He teased, arms securely on your waist. “Because I do and I feel lucky to have an understanding partner as you.”

“I love you too, Spence, and Aurora loves you too,” you giggled. “And between you and me, I think you’re still her favorite parent.”

Head thrown back, he laughed, thighs shaking from your admission. “It’s because I cave more to her whims more than you do.”

“Well, there’s that too.”

You gave him another kiss.

“We can try to be more present next time—together. I won’t let you doubt yourself. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[tysonrooney06]

How To Commerce The Inverse Head-and-shoulders Sample

With the investor loosing interest in investing in shares, the volume drops and the inventory worth starts to decline. The heart trough is the deepest and the opposite two are of roughly the same depth. An inverted Head and shoulders pattern occurs when the price of a security drops marking the bearish pattern and reaches the bottom level. Then the bullish development kicks back in and pushes the worth upwards.

In this case, the inventory's price reaches three consecutive lows, separated by momentary rallies.

This breakdown ought to be convincing, occurring on robust volume and coinciding with momentum indicators pointing towards sturdy bearish momentum.

If the value advance preceding the top and shoulders top is not long, the following worth fall after its completion may be small as nicely.

All expressions of opinion are subject to vary without discover in response to shifting market circumstances.

Some progress on the US debt ceiling talks is lifting the general market mood. The Relative Strength Index indicator turned bearish, warranting that additional downside is expected, whereas the 3-day Rate of Change , continues to slide beneath its neutral level. Futures and futures choices buying and selling includes substantial risk and isn't appropriate for all investors. Please read theRisk Disclosure Statementprior to buying and selling futures merchandise.

Figuring Out The Pinnacle And Shoulders Trading Pattern

The neckline can additionally be an essential part of the pinnacle and shoulders sample as it is the stage of resistance that merchants use in order to set up the world vary to put orders. So, to find the neckline, first, find the left shoulder, head, and proper shoulder. Then connect the low factors after the left shoulder with the low after the head, which creates the neckline.

It can be difficult for newbies to determine the altering developments.

Is Your Risk/reward Enough?

Chart patterns Understand the method to learn the charts like a professional trader. Live streams Tune into day by day live streams with expert merchants and transform your buying and selling abilities. A catalyst is something that can move traders or buyers to buy or promote a stock. That’s as a outcome of you must use this sample to discover out a significant change in development. Ascending triangle pattern need a lot of traders to see the sample, so they act accordingly and the price sample plays out.

[rafes-slut]

"Say You Forgive Me"

Summary: after Rafe yelled at you earlier, you’re giving him the silent treatment, determined to stay mad. But Rafe is relentless, trying everything to get you to forgive him. He slowly breaks down your walls with soft apologies and teasing touches, but when that doesn’t work, he takes things further, using pleasure to get through to you.

The tension between you and Rafe had been thick ever since this morning when he had yelled at you—angry, frustrated, his voice sharp and cutting in a way that left an ache in your chest. He had been impatient over something insignificant, but his tone had struck a nerve, and you hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, you sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes locked on the screen in front of you. You weren’t even paying attention to the movie, but you refused to let him know that. Rafe sat beside you, restless, sighing every few minutes, shifting in his seat, trying to get you to acknowledge him.

“Baby…” he finally broke the silence, his voice softer now, laced with guilt. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. “Come on, you’re really gonna ignore me all night?”

You didn’t move, didn’t spare him even the slightest glance.

Rafe groaned under his breath, running a hand through his hair before scooting closer, his thigh pressing against yours. Still, you refused to react.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over your arm, but you pulled it away as if his touch burned. His lips pressed together in frustration. “Okay, okay, I deserved that.”

A heavy silence filled the room again. The movie’s background noise was the only sound between you, but Rafe wasn’t giving up.

His hand found its way onto your thigh, his fingertips tracing slow, delicate patterns over your bare skin. You tensed at the touch but kept your face neutral, pretending not to notice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice dipping lower, laced with something almost pleading. His fingers trailed higher, warm against your skin. “Didn’t mean to snap at you. I was being an asshole.”

You still didn’t answer.

Rafe huffed softly, but instead of pulling away, he doubled down. His palm pressed more firmly against your thigh, his fingers teasing just under the hem of your shorts. His touch was featherlight, teasing, skating dangerously close to where he knew you were most sensitive.

You swallowed, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, determined not to react.

But then his hand slipped further between your legs, his knuckles brushing over the thin fabric of your shorts. His fingers pressed gently, cupping you, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent heat rushing through your body.

“Baby, don’t do this,” he murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Don’t ignore me like this. Let me make it up to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you clenched your jaw, refusing to give in so easily.

Rafe, though, wasn’t one to back down. His other hand found your chin, gently turning your face toward him. His blue eyes were heavy with sincerity—and something darker, something hungry.

“I hate when you ignore me,” he admitted, voice rough with frustration and desperation all at once. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, eyes flickering down to your mouth. “Let me fix it.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, but before you could pull away, his fingers slipped beneath your waistband. The first brush of his fingertips against your bare skin sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re mad at me,” Rafe whispered, dragging his fingers lower. “I get it. But you’re wet, baby.”

Your stomach clenched at his words, at the teasing smirk pulling at his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly how to unravel you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles, each stroke sending heat curling in your belly. His other hand wrapped around your thigh, spreading you open just a little more.

“Still mad at me?” he asked, his tone cocky now, but still dripping with that soft, apologetic sweetness. His lips ghosted over your jaw, trailing soft kisses down your neck. “Or are you gonna let me make it up to you properly?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, torn between holding onto your stubbornness and giving in to the way his touch made your body melt.

His fingers slid lower, teasing at your entrance before pressing in just slightly, just enough to make you suck in a sharp breath.

“Rafe—”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he murmured, swallowing your words with his mouth against yours, kissing you slow and deep as his fingers pushed inside, curling just right.

His kiss was slow and deep, yet dripping with desperation—like he was trying to steal your breath, like he needed you to forgive him in the only way he knew how. His fingers moved inside you, curling just right, dragging along that sensitive spot that made your thighs twitch.

You gasped against his lips, your body betraying you as your hips arched slightly, pressing into his touch. Rafe groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were blown out, dark with lust, but there was something else too—something softer.

"That's it, baby," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then another to the spot just beneath your ear. "Knew you couldn’t stay mad at me forever."

You wanted to say something, to remind him that you were still mad, that just because your body was weak for him didn’t mean you forgave him. But then he pushed his fingers deeper, his thumb rubbing firm, slow circles over your clit, and the words died in your throat.

Rafe smirked, leaning in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Still ignoring me?" he taunted, his voice a low rasp.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to answer, but your body was telling him everything he needed to know. Your thighs squeezed around his hand, your breaths were coming faster, your nails digging into the couch cushion.

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was a rough edge to it. His fingers pulled out of you, leaving you empty for a second before he slipped them beneath the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down in one swift motion.

"Lift your hips, baby," he murmured, and you hated how quickly you obeyed, lifting just enough for him to slide them off.

"Good girl," he praised, running his hands up your bare thighs, spreading them apart just enough to fit himself between them. He shifted, kneeling on the couch beside you, his hands gripping your hips as he leaned over you.

Your breath hitched as he slid his other hand back between your legs, his fingers teasing, dipping between your folds before pressing against your clit again, rubbing slow, teasing circles that had your stomach tightening.

His free hand traced up your side, pushing your shirt up, his fingers brushing over your bare skin before finding your breast, cupping it, squeezing just enough to make you arch into him.

"Rafe—"

"Say you forgive me," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. His fingers moved faster, rubbing tight circles that made your body burn. "Say it, baby."

You clenched your teeth, determined not to give in so easily, but then he slipped two fingers inside you again, curling them just right, and your resolve shattered.

"Rafe—"

"Say it," he demanded, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking a mark into your skin as his fingers fucked into you, slow and deep.

Your breath came in short, shaky pants, your body trembling beneath him. You could feel the heat coiling tighter in your stomach, could feel yourself getting closer.

"Say it, and I'll make you come," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "C'mon, baby, tell me you forgive me."

You clenched your jaw, trying to hold on just a little longer, but then his thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in fast, tight circles, and you broke.

"I— I forgive you," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your back arching as pleasure crashed through you.

Rafe groaned, his lips crashing against yours as you trembled beneath him, his fingers never stopping, dragging out every last wave of pleasure until you were a mess beneath him.

When you finally caught your breath, he pulled back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at his lips. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you were too blissed out to be mad.

Rafe chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whispering, "Now, be a good girl and take off my pants."

[thirteenheavens]

Wonwoo, "ride my face baby"

Notes: ugh it’s good to be back honestly hehe so happy that I’m writing

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

Wonwoo had you pinned down on the bed, his body hovering over yours as he looked down at you with a hungry gaze.

"You look so beautiful like this," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "I could look at you all day." He leaned down to kiss you, his lips moving slowly and sensually against yours. His tongue teased your bottom lip, begging for entrance, which you granted without hesitation.

As the kiss deepened, his hands began to roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip with a possessive touch. He took his time, savoring the feel of your skin against his fingers. Eventually, he pulled away from the kiss and moved down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. He stopped at your hips, looking up at you with a devilish grin.

"Ride my face baby," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want to taste you." You looked at him with a mix of surprise and excitement, your heart racing in your chest.

"Are you sure?" you asked, biting your lip nervously. Wonwoo nodded, his eyes darkening with desire. "I've been wanting to taste you all day," he said, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. "Now come here."

He laid down on his back, gesturing for you to straddle his face. You complied, feeling a rush of heat as you positioned yourself over him. Wonwoo wasted no time, his tongue immediately finding your clit and beginning to tease it. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. As Wonwoo continued to devour you, his glasses began to steam up from the heat of his breath. He didn't seem to care, his focus entirely on pleasuring you.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he ate you out with a fervor. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, occasionally dipping lower to tease your entrance. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, his groans of pleasure sending shivers down your spine. He was completely lost in the moment, his entire being focused on bringing you pleasure.

Your moans grew louder and louder as Wonwoo continued to work his magic. He could feel your thighs trembling around his head, a sign that you were getting close to your climax. He doubled his efforts, sucking on your clit and sliding a finger inside you, curling it up to hit your g-spot. He looked up at you through his steamy glasses, his eyes dark with lust.

"Cum for me," he growled, his voice muffled against your skin. "I want to taste every drop." Wonwoo couldn't see anything with his glasses steaming up, so he quickly ripped them off and tossed them aside. He didn't care where they landed, his focus entirely on you now.

"Much better," he said, his voice clearer now that he could see you properly. "I want to watch you fall apart." He continued to work you with his mouth and finger, his eyes locked on yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Wonwoo groaned as you began to grind on his face, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He loved it when you took control like this, showing him just how much you were enjoying his touch. He moved his tongue faster, his finger working in and out of you at a relentless pace. He could feel your thighs clenching around his head, a sign that you were getting close to your orgasm.

"That's it," he murmured against your skin. "Use me to get yourself off. I want to make you feel good. Wonwoo could tell that you were getting closer to your climax, your moans getting higher and louder with each passing second. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue and finger working in perfect harmony to bring you to the edge.

"I can feel you trembling," he said, his voice strained with desire. "You're so close, baby. Just let go." He moved his free hand up to your stomach, pressing down lightly as he continued to eat you out. He wanted to feel you shatter beneath him, to see the look on your face as you came undone.

As you came, your body tensed up and you let out a loud moan. Wonwoo continued to work you through your orgasm, his tongue and finger never stopping until you were completely spent. He lapped up every drop of your juices, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. Once you were done, he gently removed his finger and pulled back, taking a deep breath as he looked up at you with a satisfied smile.

"You taste amazing," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I could do that all day."

[solarismoons]

Astronomy (Pt 1.)

 ‘It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart’

Wally Clark x fem!reader

Summary: You grapple with the aftermath of your fall while trying to avoid a persistent ghost and intrusive questions from your friends.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, angst, addiction, slighttt emetophobia, careful reading.

prev. chap. next chap.

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It was another bad day for your Dad. The second you stepped further into your house, a nasty smell of vomit engulfed the air. With each breath, the ache in your skull sent ripples of pain shooting through your entire body.

Pulling your shirt over your nose, you stumbled further into the house and grabbed your keys off the kitchen counter. The pain in your head and the building pain in your left arm signaled something was wrong. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline or the pure shock of what you witnessed, but by some miracle, you were able to pull out of your driveway and drive to the hospital. As soon as you stepped into the emergency room, the nurses looked at you, concern and pity etched into their features. 

The harsh glare of the artificial lights bathed the waiting room in a piercing brightness that once again made you squirm. Sat around the room were strange people decked out in outdated clothing. Brightly colored bell bottoms grazed the floor, while patterned shirts with oversized collars clashed against the pale walls. You were far too fucked up to care.

You were swiftly guided through heavy double doors, the faint sound of muffled voices fading behind you. As you sat on the doctor's table, crinkly paper crunched beneath your legs, a sterile scent filling the air. You tried to sit comfortably, but your senses were overwhelmed. Each movement hurt, and each breath in brought a new wave of nausea pulsing through you.

After a few brief moments, a tall woman in clean, navy scrubs walked in, her steps purposeful yet unhurried. Her hair was pulled back into a neat, tight bun. Her expression was calm and professional. The woman’s deep brown eyes calmed you down, ever so slightly.

“So, what’s going on, hun?” She snapped tight blue gloves over her hands. As the gloves clicked into place, she chewed on a piece of gum, the sound of her lips popping softly echoing in the quiet room. 

“I… Fell. Off a roof.” The woman pulled up a chair, momentarily blinding you as she flashed a light into your eyes.

“You fell, huh?” She asked quizzically, a hint of concern evident in her tone. “What were you doing on a roof at 2 am, sweets?” Her tone was soft but accusatory. You sunk back into yourself.

“Drinking,” You falsely confessed, your eyes darting away. It was a half-hearted lie that hung in the air like a bad smell. The woman shook her head, unable to hide her judgment. She stayed silent as her fingers lightly prodded the back of your head.

You sucked in a harsh breath, fingers gripping the table. “Am I okay?” You slowly asked. 

“Well, it’s just a cut… It’s better than it looks. I can’t say the same about this arm.” Her fingers lightly picked up your wrist, rotating it slowly. A deep, angry bruise slowly spread across your skin, a constellation of reds and purples swirling at the surface.

“We’re going to have to run x-rays, ’kay?” You nodded.

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Your stay at the hospital was longer than you had liked. You arrived home sporting a sling and a concussion. The doctor ordered you to stay home for a few days and avoid bright lights. Yeah, right. You couldn’t miss a day of school. Spending more than a few hours at home was already too much for you. The stench of alcohol and vomit hung heavily in the air, clinging to every surface. As used to it as you should’ve been, it was a haunting presence that tore you apart. It was a constant reminder of the shell of a human your dad had become. 

A pair of sunglasses and a doctor's note would suffice. 

You crept past your still-passed-out father, who was drooling all over the couch cushions. At last, you reached the sanctuary of your bedroom. As you sank into your bed, the familiar embrace of the sheets enveloped you, offering a comforting escape from the chaos you experienced. You’d only have a few hours to rest before school, but no part of you had enough energy to care.

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Just as you predicted, the second you stepped into school, confused stares burned into the back of your head. The sunglasses did little to protect you from the blinding fluorescents, but it was better than the alternative of rotting at home. 

Your fingers fumbled with your locker, finding it harder than you had thought to open it one-handed. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors behind you. Arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace.

“Holy shit! Are you okay? I got your text!” You winced and squirmed out of Nicole's grasp, your arm exploding with pain. Apologies quickly spilled out of her mouth in rushed succession.

“I’m okay,” You assured her. Past her shoulder stood Maddie, Simon, and Xavier. They all crowded around you, asking you to elaborate further on your cryptic text:

“Might not be at school tomorrow- In the hospital.”

It was sent at 5 in the morning when you barely had any sanity to wake up, let alone send a text. Out of seemingly nowhere, a chill crept up your spine. Your heart began to beat against your ribs, and sweat broke out on your forehead.

“That must hurt,” A deep, unfamiliar voice whispered above you. You slowly slid your eyes over to the voice, eyes focusing on a too-familiar face. Wally smiled down at you, his frame towering over you. He raised an eyebrow at you as you started to shake.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Simon's hand gripped your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. You almost jumped out of your skin as you whipped your head around towards him.

“I- I’m… I’ll tell you guys at lunch. I’m going to the nurse,” You stuttered out. Fully abandoning all your books in your locker, you sped walk away. Your friends stood in the middle of the hall, completely dumbfounded. 

You knew they would interrogate you at lunch–beg you for answers. But you couldn’t care less at that moment. You needed to get away from whatever fucked-up things your brain started projecting in front of you. Feet skidding around a corner, you found an empty classroom. The blinds were pulled down, the only light being a small lamp on the center desk. You slid your sunglasses off your head, put them into your bag, and welcomed the darkness.

You held your head in your hands, your breathing becoming rapid. What the fuck was happening? Maybe you should’ve told the doctor you were hallucinating. Maybe they would’ve locked you up, would’ve filled you with pills, and sent you on your merry way. You would’ve done anything to stop whatever you were seeing.

You tried to reason with yourself–tried to make sense of why you were hallucinating him. A million thoughts raced through your head at once. You always had some weird attraction towards him, but it always made you feel guilty. Was that why? Was your subconscious torturing you for finding a dead guy sexy?

The door swung open, closing shut with a slam. The last person you wanted to see walked right up to you. You looked up at him, anger searing through you.

“You’re not real,” You muttered, more so to yourself, as you hopped off the desk and grabbed your bag with one hand. You tried to step around him, but he maneuvered in front of you.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” He laughed, far too amused at the situation. He was unsure of how you knew him. But he could see it in your eyes–you recognized him. Maybe you’d seen his memorial in an old yearbook? Whatever it was, you intrigued him. He also felt drawn to you. Every time you were near, the hair stood up on his arms, and his breath stopped in his throat.

“You’re dead,” You argued, trying to sidestep him. Annoyingly, he blocked your path again. Hands clenching at your sides, you huffed.

“Then why are you talking to me?” Wally laughed again, the sweet sound cutting through the silence of the classroom. It sent another shiver shooting up your spine. Despite your protests, a warm feeling filled your chest.

“I’m going crazy. You’re not real,” You grumbled to yourself. That’s it; you’ve officially gone mad. You had brain damage. That was the only possible explanation. You quickly stepped forward, knowing you’d step right through him, and he’d vanish into thin air just like that.

Except you didn’t walk through him. Instead, your body slammed into his, your face connecting with his chest. Wally grunted at the impact, his strong hands steadying on your back. You flinched back, looking up into his eyes. The look on his face would stay with you forever.

He looked aghast– like he was the one seeing a ghost. His hands glided down the curve of your body. His large brown eyes, filled with shock and intensity, traced their path, taking in every square inch they touched. Your body went rigid as you dug your fingernails into his arm.

He could touch you. As if you were dead, as if you were just another ghost, he could touch you. It was an experience unlike anything he had ever encountered; a whirlwind of emotions surged through him, leaving him utterly dumbfounded. Never in his 40 years of being dead had he ever been able to touch, let alone talk to someone alive.

He wasn’t just something you could see. You could feel the warmth of his skin. Fuck, you could smell him. The intoxicating smell of his cologne engulfed you, Igniting sparks in your stomach. His breath fanned over your face, the coolness of it laced with a sharp scent of mint that seemed to linger in the air. 

Wally slid his hands up to your jaw, holding it delicately. A part of him was worried you’d vanish right before his eyes. He handled you with a sort of gentleness you had never experienced before. He delicately grazed the pad of his thumb across your cheek as if you were made of porcelain.

The door slammed open again, this time, a less pretty face on the other side. Mr. Anderson walked in, an annoyed look on his face. “Go to class! You’re 10 minutes late,” he yelled. Had it really been that long? Wally abruptly released you, and an immediate chill enveloped you. How was your body already aching for his warmth?

Mr. Anderson sat behind his desk and called your name with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Instinctively, your head jerked over to him. “What’re you deaf? Go!” 

You uttered a half-assed apology and ran out the door, not bothering to glance back at Wally. The football player leaned against a desk, a disbelieving smile crawling onto his face. He shook his head, laughing. He didn’t understand how any of this was possible. He couldn’t comprehend what forces could be at play. The gods must’ve been fucking with him.

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For the next two periods–up until lunch–your search history was concerning, to say the least.

‘Is it possible to see ghosts?’

‘Ghost encounters’

‘Wally Clark Split River accident’

‘Split river ghosts?’

Even scouring the deepest parts of the internet didn’t give you clarity. Countless blogs, theorems, and shady articles still couldn’t give you an answer to your question: Why? As you ran through the hallway, shoulder-checking people to get to the cafeteria, the question rang through your head. 

While you ran, you started noticing things you hadn’t before. You saw the girl with wide eyes and a dazed expression sitting on the book return cabinet. You saw the boy with frosted tips and the Canadian tuxedo. Hell, you almost ran headfirst into the girl with a black newsboy cap and an angry look on her face.

You’ve never seen them before. If they were ghosts like you suspected, Wally wasn’t a hallucination. Despite your groping in the middle of Mr. Anderson's classroom, you still couldn’t accept the truth. But, if you were seeing other ghosts? He couldn’t have been a delusion. It made sense for him to be a figment of your imagination–You saw his face every damn time you walked into your living room. It could’ve easily been your subconscious projecting a familiar face right in front of your eyes.

But, you could smell him. And, fuck, he smelled good.

“Hello?!” Nicole waved her hand in front of your face, snapping a few times. Flinching back immediately, you looked around. When the fuck did you buy lunch? When did you sit down at a table?

“Hey!” She shook you gently, her eyes wide with concern as her voice trembled with worry. Maddie and Simon exchanged a sideways glance. You quickly shook your head, trying to shift out of autopilot.

“Sorry- I was just thinking,” You whispered, rubbing your temples. 

Maddie snickered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she whispered to Simon. Simon, unable to contain his amusement, joined in, muttering something under his breath. Nicole shot them a dirty look, quickly shutting them up. Her hand glided gently up and down your back, a comforting gesture that kept you grounded. 

“What happened, girl?” Nicole inquired, voice soft. You knew telling them the truth was out of the question. The words snuck to the tip of your tongue, begging to be spilled. Your problems weighed heavily on your shoulders, a crushing burden constantly holding you down. Still, they were yours. Not your friends to deal with.

“I fell down the stairs,” you said. Nicole’s hand halted its movements just for a second. The whole table shot you side-ways looks. You shoved a tater-tot into your mouth, hoping no one would ask any more intrusive questions. As if your prayers were answered, each person nodded, seemingly taking your word. Unfortunately for you, your friends were smarter than you anticipated. Nicole made a mental note to confront you later.

As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you booked it out of the cafeteria. Brown eyes followed your figure as you ran. Shamelessly, Wally had been following you the entire day. He watched from a distance, worried to scare you off. He just needed to know more. After his light stalking, he learned two things:

You were the complete opposite of him; Your schedule consisted of art classes and advanced courses he couldn’t get more than a C in. And more importantly, he learned your first name. It rang through his mind like a beautifully crafted symphony, each syllable twisting and turning in his stomach. He knew he was fucked.

Hours later, you trudged home on foot, the day weighing on you. You bombed your calc test and fell asleep in the middle of anatomy. Even in sleep, you couldn’t escape him. You needed to do something before going completely mad. You needed answers.

That night, you devised a plan. Sneak out the window, climb onto a tree, and slide down the trunk. Easy enough, right?

Although, having Wally’s lips connected to your neck was not a part of your plan.

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tags: @maggiecc @astoryworthoftelling @aliengirl99

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Three Effective Trading Strategies Using M and W Patterns

Let us have look at how we use the M and W patterns (also referred to as Double Top & Double Bottom Patterns) in trading. Here are some Trading Strategies. 1. Double Top (M Pattern) Strategy Description: The Double Top, or M pattern, is a bearish reversal pattern that forms after an uptrend. It consists of two peaks at roughly the same level, with a trough in between. This pattern indicates…

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Video Clips of Sweethearts Pregnancy - Second Trimester

First Trimester Video Clips

♡ ‘big momma don’t play’ - video length: 9 seconds

Chris’ face fills the frame, he had goofy smile plaster on his face as he pops another french fry in his mouth. He double taps his phone screen, turning the camera around to reveal a very pregnant Sweetheart biting down on a cheeseburger. His soft chuckle can be heard behind the camera as Sweetheart looks up, crunching her eyebrows as she makes eye contact with the bright flash right before the clip ends. He sends it to his snap group, captioning it; ‘big momma don’t play’

♡ ‘so fucking cool’ - video length: 27 seconds

Sweethearts baby bump takes over the screen, Chris’ large hand placed gently over the top of her stomach. He presses down on her belly, “c’mon,” his raspy voice echos out of frame, “don’t be camera shy kid,” he coos, his chest vibrating against Sweethearts thigh as he speaks. She lets out a soft giggle, her belly jump with each breath she lets out. Chris sucks his teeth, “he’s not gonna do it — little asshole.” His comment earns another giggle from Sweetheart before baby Bean presses his foot against the barrier of her stomach in one swift movement. Sweetheart gasps, Chris’ eyes widening, his hands trembling as a bright smile makes its way onto his lips. He focuses in on her belly, capturing another sharp kick from their unborn baby. It was a cute video to send to his friends and family. It was one of the few times the two had felt their baby kick.

♡ 'yes daddy' - video length: 15 seconds

Steady clicks of Chris computer mouse fill the, otherwise, silent bedroom, Sweetheart cuddles up with her body pillow on his bed, her phone pointed towards him as she holds down the record button. Chris looks over his shoulder for split second, speaking on cue, "y'wanna go get my mini pizzas from the microwave, baby? I made some extra for you," Sweetheart knew he wouldn't be able to pull himself away from his Fortnite session if he tried, especially considering the fact that the microwave alarm sounded minutes ago. Her pregnancy hormones were like a rollercoaster, already planted the idea in her head before she started recording, "yes daddy," she coos sweetly. The clip shows Chris' head snapping so fast it looks like it could twist around and roll right off his shoulders. Sweetheart lets out a giggle before ending the video and exiting the room to retrieve the mini pizzas.

♡ 'Its a boy!! 💙💙👶🏻' - video length: 42 seconds

Nick points his phone towards Chris and Sweetheart, focusing the camera on the expecting couple who stood at the end of the long dining table Family and friends filling each seat around the table, giving the pair their full attention. Sweetheart has her bottom lip pinned between her teeth, chewing on it nervously as Chris wraps an arm around her waist, lowering her head to whisper something in her ear. A small, toothless smile pulls at Sweethearts lips as Chris smiles at her, pressing a light kiss to her temple. Matt can be seen at the edge of the frame, "they're so cute, it makes me wanna puke. Nick nudges him with his elbow, making the camera fall out of focus and zoom in on Jimmy's face, "I'm recording, y'idiot." Nick quickly pans the camera back to Sweetheart and Chris, letting out a snort in the process at his fuck up, don't worry — I'll edit that out." Thankful he got it together before the group starts counting down in unison, "three ... two ... one!!"

Their heads turned away and their eyes clamped shut as they press their wine glasses down into the neatly decorated cake that Mary Lou ordered specifically for the gender reveal. They crowd cheers as Chris and Sweetheart turn to look at the cake, lifting their wine glasses at the same time to reveal a white and blue striped pattern. Sweetheart slaps a hand over her mouth, taking a step back in shock as the room combusts into a symphony of cheers. The clip catches Chris dropping his wine glass, thrusting a fist into the air, and shouting, "I fucking knew it! I'm having a son!" He wraps an around Sweetheart once again, pulling her in for a bear hug, rocking their bodies from side to side before Nick ends the video.

♡ 'half way done🥹🤰🏻' - video length: 18 seconds

Sweetheart stand in front of the bathroom mirror, phone in hand as she shows off the front view of her growing bump. Chris towering over her from behind, his hands resting on her waist and his chin resting on top her head. He loved the glow that pregnancy induced on her, it was like she swam in the fountain of youth the way she woke up glowing every morning. Chris smooths a hand over her bump and Sweetheart turns to flaunt her bumps side profile, a bright smile etched across Chris' face as he admires her in the mirror.

♡ 'she thinks I'm funny 🥰' - Video Length: 6 seconds

The clips starts out black, Sweetheart voice sounding through the screen, "s'not funny — Chris stop!" You can hear her trying to contain her laughs as Chris pulls the camera back, zooming in on the grey leggings she wore, a dark wet stop stained between her legs and down the inside of her thighs. Chris wheezes from behind the camera, completely hysterical over Sweetheart peeing her pants right in front of him. In her defense, her son had been pushing her bladder a lot more the past week, and Chris couldn't set up a baby car seat if his life depended on it.

♡ ‘I feel so bad’ - video length: 8 seconds

Sweetheart sits on the floor of the kitchen; tears stain her cheeks as she sobs over the last bowl of Mary Lou's chili she so clumsily spilled. Her belly bump getting in the way, making her stumble and lose her balance, ending with her collapsing on the floor in tears over the last bowl of sacred beans. Chris clears his throat, "its okay, babe. We can get some more," he attempts to soothe her, lowkey trying to hold back the laughter in his voice because he knew it'd send her into a rage. They both knew it was silly for her to be bawling her eyes out over a lost bowl of soup, but her pregnancy hormones had her in a chokehold lately. Sweetheart looks up at him, her eyes puffy from crying, "it's not the same, Chris!" she whines before dropping her hands to her lap, letting out sobs as she looks back down at the mess in front of her

♡ 'pregnancy comes with perks 😋' - Video Length: 4 Seconds

Sweetheart is reclined back in the corner of the sectional, a box of Mcdonald's chicken nuggets in her lap. Her feet rest on Chris' thighs, his hands gently massaging circles into the bottoms of her swollen pads. She dips a nugget in the opened sweet n sour cup that sits in the cardboard box before zooming in on her babydaddy, Chris looks over to her and giving her a cheesy koolaid smile as she ends the clip.

♡ 'and you guys wonder why she's pregnant' - Video Length: 17 Seconds

Matt sits at the kitchen island, a bag of Doritos and a pink lemonade placed halfway out of frame as he points the camera to the living room; showing Sweetheart sitting on Chris' lap as they share a intimate, steamy kiss. His hand pressed to the back of her neck to keep her close while her hands ball fists into his shirt. Matt double taps the camera, revealing his signature mean mug before ending the clip and sending it to his close circle - including the Chris and Sweetheart.

♡ 'nesting or whatever the pregnant ladies call it 💪🏻' - Video Length: 12 Seconds

Chris pans the camera to Sweetheart; laundry baskets boxing her in as she folds each piece of baby clothing. A gasp leaves her lips, "awee, Chris!" she coos, holding up a small onesie, "look at his one!" She lips curling into a sympathetic frown at how adorable the newborn sized onesie was.

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Happy Friday 🥳 We ready for today's video?!! Sorry I've been a bit inactive this last week. I'm currently dealing with the flu and my period at the same time, so I feel like death tbh. I figured I'd do video clips again since the last one did so good <3 Emotional support should be out soon, sorry for the delay 😭

Masterlist

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Send me asks and suggestions about babydaddy!Chris & sweetheart <3

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