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igotanidea · 2 months ago

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Bumpy road: Jason Todd x reader

Aka: the one with the first fight.

***

They were warning her.

*They* as in pretty much everyone – family, friends, even strangers on the street.

They were warning her that every relationship hits a rough path sooner or later. That the honeymoon phase cannot last forever. That arguments, fights, misunderstandings and other rocks on the yellow road of Oz are about to happen.

Like she was a kid, not knowing that already.

Of course she was aware of all that! Hell – her parents had enough of a clash of characters and silent days to somehow immunize her against it.

She thought herself ready for the stormy days, making a bucket list of things she wouldn’t do with Jason.

Like *not going to bed angry* or *talking through things* or other silly and completely immature naïve things.

Well – having a plan and putting it into action turned out to be two completely different things.

***

The shy sun on the sky, gentle wind and little white fluffy clouds were nothing of a sign of an impending torment.

Y/N was walking back home from work, having taken a few hours for a personal leave with a set date of working it off. Though if it meant spending 10 hours in the office on Thursday to have some more time with Jay on Friday, so be it.

Absolutely worth it.

Not even fighting the happy smile forming on her face, thinking about the little surprise she had planned for him, she rode along the streets humming the songs coming from the car radio.

Even their shabby apartment in the shitty district of Gotham seemed more vibrant for no reason.

“Jay? Jay, I’m home!” her bag landed on the rack, shoes on the shelf, coat in the wardrobe. “babe? You’re here? Oh – oh, Jay, what happened?”

Jason was sitting on the couch, staring blankly into the space, fidgeting with his phone, but not paying any attention to whatever might have flashed on the screen. Anyone else might have been fooled, after all Jason always seemed a little detached and immersed in his own thoughts, especially when he was alone. Y/N was not one of those people, seeing through him almost instantly.

“Hey?” The soft sound of bare feet on the floor approaching him from the side finally threw him off and back into reality.

“Hey.” No smile, no sparkles in the eyes, no sign of acknowledgment. Only a slight flinch as if he was trying to pull back and away from her.

Y/N frowned.

“Jace-“

“I’m busy.” His gaze immediately fell back onto the screen, scrolling mindlessly, finding himself a substitute occupation.

“With what?”

“God, why are you being so nosy?” Jason rolled his eyes, not stopping whatever was so interesting.

“Nosy?”

“Yes, nosy. I’m browsing, ok? How do you think I get the fucking intel for patrolling?”

“Through a Facebook page?” she tried to crack the joke.

“Yeah. That too. Do you want to go through my texts now? Is this what this is about?”

“What? No, of course no. What’s with the hostility?”

“I’m not fucking hostile.”

“Right… Not at all.”

“I just need some freaking silence, is that too hard to understand?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” It was shockingly difficult to say those words, considering the fact she made quite different plans for the afternoon, but apparently the relationship also required compromising. Even if the meaning of the word was forgetting about oneself all together, all for the benefit of the other half of the duet. “I’ll go get us some snacks, hm? And maybe I could help you with – “

“Whatever.”

Oh, okay. He wasn’t hostile, he was indifferent.

Or maybe just busy.

Right, right, of course, just busy, it was okay. First time for everything, even ignoring her.

She could understand it, obviously, being understanding and giving him necessary space like any considerate girlfriend would.

***

Shit broke free three days later.

Any target group asked would unanimously agree that Monday mornings were absolutely the worst, and external circumstances had nothing to do with it. The loads of easy work from Friday that could be left and handled on Monday suddenly became increasingly difficult and seemed to multiply.

99% of people liked that.

Y/N was no exception.

Good humor? Gone.

Optimistic attitude? Lost.

Exhaustion? Skyrocketing.

Sudden thirst for blood and unparalleled rage? Present.

Incoming storm in her relationship….?

Yeah… Inevitable.

***

It was like the entertainment replay.

Jason was sitting on the couch, staring blankly into space, fidgeting with his phone… yadda, yadda, yadda.

Only this time she had zero patience and zero strength to handle it, heading straight to the bathroom, wiping her makeup, cleaning her face.

Standing in front of the mirror, removing the mascara, the foundation, putting her hair in a messy bun, slowly transforming back into her domestic version.

Just. Wanting. Some. Rest.

Meeting with an angered, almost reproachful look on her boyfriend’s face.

Once again, trying to be sympathetic.

“Hi.”

Jason grunted.

“What’s going on?” she tried again.

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh for crying out loud!”

“Stop being a bitch.”

“a – a bitch? I’m sorry, what the-“

“Yes, bitch. You heard me right. You’ve barely been giving me attention lately!”

“Attention!? What the hell, Jason!? You’ve been AWOL!”

“I’ve been here all the time!”

“In body! But sure as hell not in mind! You spend eight hours in front of the phone and computer on Saturday!”

“Did you go through my PC?” he took a step back, fury in his eyes taking her by surprise.

“What? No! What is this about!?”

“Did you go through-“

“Jason!”

“Did you!?” he half-yelled and all her resolutions about being an understanding, caring partner, showing respect and love for the other one went through the window.

“Are you accusing me of spying on you!?”

“Maybe I am! Answer the fucking question!”

“You’re paranoid!” she yelled. “Yes!” though it wasn’t true at all. “Yes, I did. Happy now!?” she hissed with a vindictive smirk, suddenly wanting to enrage him further for no reason in particular. Maybe for the sheer satisfaction of giving him the same shit he was giving her.

“Brat!”

“Asshole!”

“Idiot!”

“Jerk!”

“I hate you!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t; have gotten into a relationship with me in the first place!”

“You know what?” he hissed, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have because-“

“Because you’re an asshole-!”

“Because you’re completely immature!”

“Oh, I’m immature!” Y/N cried out, throwing her hands in the air “hypocrite! You’re always go about work and job and crime rate and vigilantism and crime lords and-“

“You fucking knew it! You fucking knew who I was when we started – “

“You have changed!” her words came without any thinking and Jason felt like it was a slap. For a moment eerie silence, electrified with tension fell between them.

The only sounds being the heavy beating of their hearts, ragged breaths and unbearable weight of both spoken and unspoken words.

“Maybe I did.” He said coldly.

“Yeah, maybe you did. But maybe it’s my fault.”

“Maybe I fucked up your life.”

“Maybe.”

“And maybe you fucked up mine.”

“Right.”

The screaming match turned into an exchange of icy cold gazes and sharp as knives words.

First fight and they were already pulling out the arguments that their relationship might have been a mistake.

Y/N flinched internally realizing she was acting exactly like her parents after 15 years of marriage.

Though clearly the generational trauma poured on her, resulted in an accelerated speed and she was becoming a hag after 15 months.

Fucking great. If anyone was a hypocrite, she just scored a gold star in the category.

Not that she was going to admit it, since he started it.

Besides he was a man, and she was a woman so it was his responsibility to resolve –

God! She was having every little hated characteristic of her mother.

“Do we break up?” he asked and her eyes grew wider.

So easily?

Giving up without fighting or trying to fix things?

Seriously?!

Did he even love her at all or was it all just a game?

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do we break up?”

“You know what, let’s finish this. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“You didn’t answer the –“

“Just leave me alone!”

So much for *not going to bed angry*.

***

In the back of his head, Jason turned into a little kid.

It wasn’t like he enjoyed this stupid fight and the amount of harsh words and malignancy terrified him.

Truly.

Just like back in the days when he had to stand up for his mother when she was fighting with another pathetic counterfeit of a man.

It was hard to grow up without any male role model, but even if he didn’t know who he wanted to be as a partner, he had a clear idea of who he didn’t want to be.

He hated the concept, the sheer possibility of becoming suspicious, violent, aggressive in words, crude and rude. The exact image of what he had just displayed towards her.

The woman he loved.

The woman he wanted to be protective and supportive of.

“Great fucking job, Jason.” He hissed to himself and even though his body was aching to rush to the bedroom, wrap arms around her and silently apologize with hugs and warmth stupid pride prevented him.

She started this after all.

And in the back of his mind he was a five year old, starving for affection and validation, feeling like there was no one who loved him.

Like maybe he was doomed and destined to be alone.

Thinking depressing thoughts to the sound of Y/N’s breaking heart behind the thin wall.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd angst #red hood angst

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abirddogmoment · 3 months ago

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You’ve probably heard it before: “Working dogs need working homes.”

It’s a phrase that gets repeated a lot, especially when a dog is struggling in a pet home. But it ignores the reality that not every dog bred for work is suited to it. Some are too anxious. Some don’t have the drive. Some are injured, aging, or simply not a good fit for the pressures of a working environment. And the truth is, there just aren’t enough working homes for all the dogs who need them.

Right now [in the USA], there are over 8,000 Australian Cattle Dogs and mixes listed on Petfinder. There are 4,500 border collies. Not all of them are cut out for working homes. Not all of them need one. Not all of them would fail in pet homes. And there likely aren't enough working homes for all of them.

If it were true that all working dogs had to be in working homes, how is it that so many are thriving in pet homes right now? Not just surviving. Thriving. Doing scentwork in the city, hiking local trails, learning tricks, competing in sports, building relationships with the people who adopted them. Pet homes aren’t always the problem. Sometimes they’re exactly what the dog needed.

I've said it recently in other posts, but we also see gatekeeping around these breeds. There's a certain appeal, for some people, in owning a dog that’s seen as tough, intense, and too much for the average person to handle. But that kind of thinking doesn’t help the dogs. It creates unrealistic expectations and pushes away the very people who might be willing to learn and do the work.

We also tend to blame pet homes when don’t go perfectly. They’re told they didn’t do enough research, or that they don’t have the right lifestyle. But many of those same homes are the ones stepping up and taking in the dogs who weren’t placed by breeders, who aged out of working roles, or who were surrendered when things got hard. They’re filling the gap in a system that isn’t working well for anyone, least of all the dogs.

That doesn’t mean every pet home is a match for every working dog. Some dogs simply aren’t a fit for certain homes. But that also doesn’t mean there isn’t one of the 8,000-plus heelers and mixes out there who would be a match. With the right support, the right expectations, and a little honesty, a lot of these dogs could succeed.

Dogs bred for work don’t necessarily need a job in the traditional sense. What they do need is engagement. They need outlets for their brains and bodies. They need to move, sniff, solve problems, and learn new things. That might be scent work, trick training, hiking, food puzzles, or play that taps into their instincts in a safe and healthy way.

That kind of engagement can happen on a farm. But it can also happen in a backyard, a townhouse, or a city apartment with someone who’s paying attention and putting in the effort.

Let’s stop saying all working dogs need one specific kind of home. Let’s start asking what the individual dog actually needs and who’s in a position to meet that.

A repost from a suggested page that popped up on Facebook, Wild at Heart Dog Training and Behavior Consulting (x)

#dogblr #dog training #dog sports #dog enrichment #i liked this one #normally i dont bother to read rants on dogbook but this one stuck with me #ive been having a lot of guilt lately about having a quote unquote working breed in my pet home

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sturnswiftie · 6 months ago

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'tis the damn season — m.s.

pairing ⟶ matthew sturniolo x !fem reader genre ⟶ angst, pining. word count ⟶ 4.3k

warnings ⟶ smut, unprotected sex, p in v, cheating.

snow blankets the small new england town, turning every road, roof, and branch into a picture-perfect image of the season. it’s the kind of stillness you can only find in winter—the muffled quiet that settles deep in your chest and makes you nostalgic for things you haven’t thought about in years.

you tighten your grip on the handle of your suitcase, gaze locked on the sturniolo household still standing tall before you. it looks the same as it always has with its weathered shutters and the christmas lights strung haphazardly along the gutters. the same inflatable santa bobs in the front yard, defying the frigid wind. it’s all so achingly familiar, and yet you know you’re only paying this much attention to avoid walking up those cement steps and facing the inevitable.

it's a strange feeling being here again, but you don’t have much of a choice. your parents had moved away after you left for college, uprooting the life they’d built here for a quieter one halfway across the country. visiting them for the holidays would have meant burning up the little vacation time you had left from school.

the sturniolos had offered without hesitation. they’d been like a second family to you growing up, and their door was always open. it was a comforting thought—or it would be if it didn’t mean facing the one thing you have to force yourself to stop thinking about.

before you can knock, the door swings open.

matt leans casually against the doorframe, hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy jeans. his hair is slightly mussed, like he’d just rolled out of bed, but he still looks good. he’d never really had a baby face in his teenage years, but somehow the cut of his jaw seems to get sharper every time you see him, the shadow of stubble decorating his pale skin in a way that nearly has you clenching your thighs. what remains almost always the same, however, are his eyes; bright and steady, holding an unreadable expression that flickers briefly only when landing on you.

“you’re early,” he says, voice low and even.

“you’re predictable,” you counter, lips twitching into a half-smile despite the way your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice.

he raises an eyebrow, but you don't miss the subtle twitch of his mouth, like he's trying not to smile back at you. when you think he's going to respond, a light and airy voice cuts in before he can.

“matt? who’s at the door?”

your stomach tightens. you don’t have to see her to know who it is. the cheerful lilt in her voice is unmistakable, and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t spent an embarrassing amount of time looking through photos of her and matt on his mother’s facebook page. try as you might, that whole “forcing yourself to stop thinking about him” thing doesn’t always work.

“i’ll get your bag,” matt says quickly, stepping aside and avoiding your eyes entirely as you step into the painful world of complete nostalgia.

matt’s fiancé, willow, is everything you aren’t. she’s the type of girl that’s effortlessly kind, her smile bright enough to light up a room—forget needing a christmas tree. she reminds you of the kind of girl your mother used to beg for you to be, but she could never quite smooth out your rough edges, much to her dismay. you can’t help but think about how much she would love matt’s soon-to-be-wife, the thought making your gut coil painfully.

willow doesn’t seem to notice. she’s all too warm in the way she greets you, pulling you into a hug like you’d known each other for years.

“it’s so nice to finally meet you!” she breathes into your ear, her enthusiasm genuine. “matt’s told me so much about you.”

“has he?” you question, forcing a smile. but your curiosity is genuine, and you find yourself turning to chris just in time to catch sight of his shit-eating grin.

“you serious? kid couldn’t stop asking about how long you’d be here, when you’d be here. ‘s like havin’ to calm down a kid waitin’ to see santa,” he teases. you know he’s probably exaggerating, especially when matt mutters an obscenity while punching his brother’s shoulder, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads through your body anyway.

in all her perfectness, willow doesn’t seem to think twice about chris’s teasing. a laugh falls from her mouth instead, the pretty girl still beaming as she turns to you and nods.

“he really does talk about you all the time—about growing up here and all the memories you guys share. it’s sweet,” she admits, gaze full of nothing but adoration as her hand finds matt’s once he’s close enough to her, his usually pale cheeks harboring a bit of a pink flush to them now and his smile somewhat uncomfortable.

your heart twists painfully at her words, but your face remains neutral, only mustering up the smallest upturn to the corners of your mouth in response. you’re sure there’s truth to matt talking about you, but it mostly serves to remind you that he’s so curious because outside of these little trips home—which are few and far between—the two of you don’t talk.

you could say it’s because you’re both just so busy, that it’s hard to maintain a friendship with so much distance between the two of you, that your lives are just going in such different directions. but deep down, without a smoke screen and the fear of wearing your heart on your sleeve the way matt always has, you know unanswered texts and missed calls from the boy you’ve always considered to be home has truly driven a wedge—one you feel you can’t dig out anymore.

while matt says nothing about everyone basically speaking for him, you can tell he’s avoiding your gaze entirely, and guilt swirls in your chest even as mary lou and the rest of the sturniolos parade you around the house, showering you with the kind of attention you’ve never been fond of simply because it puts you in the spotlight.

but you let them because you return the love these people have always had for you, a genuine smile resting on your mouth when mary lou finally ushers you to the couch with a warm cup of hot chocolate tucked between your icy hands.

“sweetheart, it’s been too long!” she exclaims, shaking her head. “how’s life treating you? are you eating enough? you’re staying through new year’s, right?” she asks, kind eyes expectant. you can’t help but laugh softly at her string of questions.

“just through christmas,” you correct her, but the words feel hollow in your mouth and guilt comes with the delivery. it never fails to feel as though you’re running every time these trips come to an end.

“you should stay longer,” the older woman immediately responds, undeterred. “it’s not the holidays without you here.”

you breathe out an awkward laugh at that, the rest of the family beginning to chime in about the fact that you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you want, memories of past holidays soon being brought up. it’s all nice, and it makes you feel all the warm fuzzies that you don’t normally allow for yourself, but it doesn’t change your mind.

staying here any longer is dangerous, and you know it. for as long as you can remember, you’d ached to get out of here. growing up in a small town, surrounded by the same people and the same days, drove you absolutely crazy. you’d had big dreams from a young age, and you knew you’d do nothing about them if you stayed here.

as the family chatters around you, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you. you don’t have to look at him to know it’s matt, but you do anyway. he’s leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a quiet intensity. he hasn’t said much since you’d arrived, but then, he’s never been all that talkative. your mouth twitches at the corners, a soft, almost sad smile threatening your visage. you think he might return the sentiment, but you watch with disappointment as he pushes himself from the granite countertop supporting his rigid spine.

“you know where the guest room is,” he finally says, his voice cutting through the chatter.

all you can do is nod as you watch him disappear, your timid smile now disappearing all together, nothing but a quiet “thanks” falling from your lips that he doesn’t acknowledge.

the first night back was always the hardest. the familiarity of everything—the creak of the stairs, the hum of the heater kicking on—is both comforting and suffocating. it should be of no surprise to you when you find yourself waking up in the middle of the night in need of a distraction, but you quietly curse yourself anyway as you pad down the creaky stairs as carefully as you can.

when you turn the corner, you’re surprised to find matt already in the kitchen, his back turned to you as the soft refrigerator light pours over the otherwise dark room. you’re silent for a moment as you stand in the open frame, arms crossed over your chest while you just watch him, relishing in the fact that he’s not staring at you with those longing blue eyes—the ones that seem to be constantly trying to figure you out while simultaneously reading you like a book.

after another few seconds, you finally build enough courage to speak. “couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

when the brunette turns, he doesn’t seem all that surprised that it’s you standing there, but you suppose it isn’t odd. you’d know the sound of his voice anywhere, and apparently it’s the same for him. still, it doesn’t calm the rapid pace of your heart inside your chest when he looks at you.

“usually up around this time anyway,” he admits with a shake of his head. you watch as he reaches for another glass from the cupboard, and then sets it next to his before filling them with water. “willow isn’t great at sharing the bed.” a roll of his eyes accompanies the confession, but you don’t miss the fondness to his voice, and though you laugh quietly in response, it comes out painfully forced.

“you’re, um... you’re really happy, huh?” you find yourself asking, voice barely above a whisper.

a beat passes. matt’s gaze flickers from you to the glass of water his fingers occupy the rim of before finally answering, “yeah. willow’s... she’s great.”

the words hang in the air, their weight pressing down on both of you. you nod, forcing a smile. “she is.”

there’s another few seconds of awkward, tense silence, the only sound heard being the contact of glass against granite as matt slides one of the cups towards you carefully until you can reach it for yourself. you offer a polite smile as you step closer to him, fingers wrapping around the coolness of the glass. you want the uncomfortable weight settling around the two of you to go away, but you don’t know how.

finally, the brunette clears his throat. “you leaving after christmas?” he asks, his voice steady but quiet. you figure it’s just a way to change the subject, but your gaze narrows slightly with curiosity as you look at him, nodding your head once.

“that’s the plan,” you admit, though it feels sour on your tongue.

you watch as he nods, his jaw tightening. “figures.”

your fingers tighten around the glass, eyebrows furrowing. the only light coming through the kitchen window casts shadows across his face, making him look a bit older, more tired.

“matt...”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “don’t. it’s fine.”

you want to tell him that it’s not, that you’re sorry, but you can’t get a word in when a humorless chuckle leaves his mouth, and he begins to shake his head slowly now.

“’m used to you runnin’. it’s been radio silence for years.”

this time it’s you who laughs, lacking the same humor he couldn’t muster seconds ago. “what am i supposed to say to you, matt? ‘congratulations on your engagement?’ ‘happy holidays?’ ‘thanks for letting me crash here while i pretend everything’s fine?’” you ask incredulously, watching as his own gaze hardens.

with his jaw tight, matt sets his glass down on the counter with a little too much force behind it. “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

“don’t i?” you shoot back, the words sharper than you intended.

the air is thick with tension between you, crackling with electricity. it’s almost suffocating as the brunette steps closer, his gaze locked on yours and his large hands anchoring themselves on the granite countertop on either side of you, caging you in. your breath hitches in your throat, and you can only hope that he can’t hear the ridiculous pounding of your heart inside your chest, your mouth pressed into a firm line as you look up at him with curious—yet knowing—eyes.

“this was a lot easier when you weren’t here,” he finally says, his voice low and strained as he studies you.

you swallow hard, knowing you shouldn’t answer him nor entertain this pull between the two of you, but you feel like you’re being tossed out at sea where it’s inevitable to crash into the ocean rocks.

“i know,” you finally answer quietly, but your voice betrays you, shaking ever so slightly, and you know it’s all he needs.

for a moment, neither of you move. then, like magnets, you find yourselves drawn together, his mouth inching closer to yours while you press up on the tips of your toes to meet him there, until finally, you’re kissing him.

it’s heated once the two of you actually connect, matt’s strong hands finding your waist immediately. he uses the grip to pull you against him as if he can keep you there, tethered to this moment despite the truth lying just beneath the surface. you tangle your fingers in his hair, tongue greedy and imploring as years of unspoken feelings spill out in every touch, every breath shared.

as the kiss grows hungrier, sloppier, both of you pouring everything into it—love, anger, regret—his hands roam your back before sliding under the hem of your sweatshirt, his touch searing against your skin.

“tell me to stop,” the brunette breathes into your mouth, his voice breaking. it sends a pang of guilt through your abdomen, but you don’t listen to him. instead, you pull him closer, your hands clutching at his hoodie as though letting go would shatter you completely.

as if frustrated by the fact that you’re letting this happen, matt presses your spine into the counter behind you, his hands sliding from beneath your sweatshirt down to the backs of your thighs where he digs his fingers into your skin for a better grip and lifts you onto the counter, his desperate mouth never leaving yours. the kitchen is freezing, but your body feels like it’s on fire, the heat and frustration between the two of you melting away every last thread of restraint.

clothes fall away in a blur, your breaths mingling in the cold air as his hands explore every inch of you, like he’s trying to memorize what he can never have again—what he knows will be gone soon. you’re still trying to adjust to every sense being so overwhelmed with matt’s presence that you hardly notice the fact that he’s already working on dragging your panties down your thighs, your hips and legs thrashing around on autopilot to help him out.

when his fingers make contact with your sopping pussy, your head almost immediately falls back, a breathy moan leaving your mouth. “fuck, matt. need you so bad,” you admit to him, the groan that leaves his throat causing your pussy to throb with desperation, walls fluttering when the rough pad of his thumb presses down on your clit.

he plays with you for a few seconds, giving into the way your hips buck forward in search of more friction, more attention, but eventually the brunette must decide enough is enough. you watch as he takes his hand from between your glistening inner thighs in favor of pushing his sweats down from their place on his hips, the fabric of his boxers following suit. you’re almost amazed at the sight of him already so hard for you, but you can’t say you’re surprised. being in matt’s vicinity is enough to fill you with the need to ease some of the tension between your legs, so you can understand how the dam of years’ worth of need for one another finally breaking could get him to this point so quickly.

after stroking himself a few times, you watch with hungry eyes as matt pulls you to the edge of the counter, a whine escaping your lips when the tip of his hard cock brushes against your clit. you can tell by the subtle smirk on his mouth that he knows how badly you want it, but you’re too eager to care that he can see right through you in the moment.

“matt,” you say again, his name falling from your mouth this time as a warning not to tease, but he cuts you off with a quick, hungry kiss to your mouth before parting once more.

“say it again.”

you blink at him, breathing heavily as your brow furrows in confusion. “what?” you breathe out.

“that you need me—say it again,” he elaborates, and while sirens immediately go off in your head, your heart aching at the desperate gleam in his pretty blue eyes, you find yourself swallowing thickly before nodding slightly.

“i...” you trail off, watching his eager expression carefully, knowing you shouldn’t.

but you’re selfish.

“i do. i need you, matt.”

you don’t have time to feel guilty. your mind goes completely blank when he finally pushes into you, it not being gentle, but not completely careless either. it’s everything—raw and frantic, but deeply, heartbreakingly intimate. you cling to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

it doesn’t feel like just sex, but a confession. a plea. a goodbye.

as if reading your mind, matt’s voice breaks through the haze of your chaotic mind. “why do you always leave?” he asks, his voice rough and barely audible as he moves inside of you.

tears sting your eyes, but you don’t answer. you can’t. instead, you pull his face from your neck and kiss him, swallowing the words you can’t bring yourself to say.

i have to.

if i stay, it’ll ruin you.

it’ll ruin me.

when he finally pulls away from your mouth, you bite down on your lower lip to stifle a cry as he fucks into you deeper, his movements desperate, like he’s trying to convince you to stay with his body since words are failing him at the moment. you can feel in his movements that he blames himself for this, and it breaks your heart. you don’t understand how he can believe this has to do with anything other than the fact that you’re entirely a coward. that allowing yourself to feel what you feel for him scares you. that it could make you stay.

“i hate this,” matt whispers to you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“i know,” you choke out, tears slipping down your cheeks. “i do too.”

his rhythm slows with the moment, his hands moving to cup your face as he kisses you softly now, the intensity giving way to something tender, almost reverent. it’s like he’s trying to say everything he never had the courage to despite knowing it’s too late—that nothing could have changed the outcome of this.

and then, with the realization, his hips are moving again, picking up in pace, and your head feels fuzzy. he’s fucking you like he hates you—like he loves you—and your heart clenches in your chest at the same time that the walls of your pussy begin to flutter around his relentless cock.

“matt, oh my god—i’m coming!” you cry out to him, one hand digging into the middle of his spine while the other cradles the back of his sweaty head, pressing his face further into the crook of your neck where his hot, labored breath hitches against your damp skin.

each slow, deliberate movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, but it's the intimacy of it—the way he holds you as though you might vanish—that makes it almost unbearable.

you come with a string of cries, some jumbled and indecipherable, and some of his name, your body jerking with the ripples of your orgasm that he works you through with his fingers against your puffy clit. your nails rake across his back as you listen to him murmur your name like it's the only word he knows, his breath hitching as he buries himself deeper inside of you. his previously perfect movements falter with his orgasm, fingers tightening on your hips like he’s afraid you’ll slip away as soon as the moment is gone.

he doesn’t move when it’s over, instead pressing his forehead into your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut while soft shutters wrack his body. you can feel just how tense every muscle is, his hands clinging to you with a desperation that mirrors the one buried in the depths of your being. but it's still not enough. it still doesn't change anything.

“you’re still leaving,” he says after a long silence, his voice breaking. your lower lip trembles, and you’re glad he can’t see you just yet.

“i have to.” you nod, your fingers brushing through his short hair.

you watch as matt pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dull and glassy. “you’re gonna ruin me,” he breathes out, his voice cracking at the end. “y’know that, right?”

again, you nod, your chest tightening painfully.

you don't have the heart to tell him you already have.

morning light streams through the window, golden and soft, but it only makes the heaviness in your chest worse. your bag sits by the door, packed hastily in the early hours of dawn while the house was still quiet, the weight of everything practically crushing you.

matt hadn’t spoken to you after last night. you hadn’t expected him to. after sneaking back upstairs, the realization had hit you like a tidal wave: nothing had changed. what you and the brunette shared in the kitchen—desperate kisses, the raw and aching connection, the unspoken words in every touch—hadn’t erased the fact that he’s engaged, and you don’t belong here anymore.

when you finally build the courage to head downstairs, nobody is awake, and you’re grateful. and you’re painfully aware of how incredibly cowardly it is, but running without the offer of closure has always been the more appealing option for you. it leaves no room for confrontation and hurt, or at least none that you have to face until you’re all alone again with regret and hatred swirling deep within your aching core.

you’re already thinking of what you’re going to say later when you inevitably receive a few confused and probably hurt messages about the fact that you’re leaving unannounced when matt finds you by the front door. the same hoodie he wore last night hangs loose around him, his face unreadable, though his eyes carry the storm you’ve come to know too well.

“leaving already?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

you inhale shakily, but nod, fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. “yeah. figured it was time.” figured it was easier like this, is what you don’t say, but you don’t have to. he knows. and you know he hates you for it.

you watch as he steps closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. there’s a pause, and then, “last night—”

“don’t,” you cut him off softly, shaking your head. “please, just... don’t make this harder than it already is.” your voice is quiet, and it breaks at the end, but otherwise your expression remains neutral.

the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything you refuse to say. the words press against the back of your throat, tears threatening the corners of your eyes, but you know better than to ever let any of it escape. words won’t fix this. they won’t undo the lines that have already been crossed or change the fact that you’re leaving. again.

“i mean it, you know,” matt says suddenly, his voice breaking, “that you’re taking a piece of me with you. that you’re ruining me.”

your eyes burn, but somehow you force a wavering smile. you want to tell him that you’re leaving a piece of yourself behind, but you don’t.

“isn’t that the way it’s always been?”

he doesn’t answer, but the look on his face says enough. his jaw is tight and his fingers twitch inside his pockets, flexing and unflexing. he hates you.

but his chest heaves, quickening with the beat of his aching heart, and his eyes are shiny with emotion you always seem to elicit. he loves you.

as you step outside, the cold air bites at your skin, but it feels like a relief compared to the suffocating weight of the house, of what waits inside for you. every day. every year. you don’t look back, but mostly because you can’t.

as you drive away, the road stretches out before you, empty and endless, but your heart stays behind—a piece of it, anyway. a piece you know you’ll never get back.

you’ll come back to this town some day—maybe next christmas or the one after that. but you know it won’t matter. the hurt will still be there, lingering like the ghost of what could have been.

matt, however, you know you’ve lost. and you can’t help the shaky smile on your lips as you leave yet again because you absolutely deserve it.

©sturnswiftie

divider credit; @issysh3ll.

#©sturnswiftie #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo one shot

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onlyonewoman · 2 years ago

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Current AO3 news from Facebook group:

ADMIN: “Just a few things. Yes, the attacks are still happening so site availability will be spotty at best. This is NOT an attack on the actual content. All stories, user data, etc are safe. DDOS attacks basically overwhelm the servers with requests to the point they cannot handle the load and failover. DDOS attacks last until one of two things happens, either the person/group gets bored and moves on to a new target. Or the site owner finds a way to fortify the servers against the attack. That means this could last for a while. With that in mind, let's all try to keep the panic, humorous or otherwise to a minimum. It's annoying and frustrating, certainly, but it's not the end of the world. The site will eventually be back, it's just going to take time and patience.” In short: - Our content is safe. - Our user data, stories etc are safe. - It’s a DDOS attack meaning it’s basically an attempt at overwhelming the servers, meaning: - DON’T KEEP REFRESHING THE AO3 PAGE!!! - It will last for a while, but there is no need to panic. Copied from one of the reblogs: “To simplify:A DoS or DDoS attack is analogous to a group of people crowding the entry door of a shop, making it hard for legitimate customers to enter, thus disrupting trade and losing the business money.” Also, YES, KEEP REBLOGGING to let people know! The less of us trying to reload the page the better! In the meantime, this is basically me:

Edit again, because this little post got a life of its own and now I feel like Pippin lighting the beacon of Minas Tirith :D

UPDATE AROUND 18:30~ish CET:

YAY!

#ao3 #ao3 hacker attack #don't refresh the page #content is safe #just don't overload the system

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chasingstardustandmoonbeams · 5 months ago

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Backwards Walk

Summary: Trevor tries to help Ghost!Reader find a little closure.

Pairing: Trevor Lefkowitz x Ghost!Reader (eventual)

Words: 890

Trevor x Photographer Ghost!Reader Masterlist

“You can’t be serious,” you said, your expression a cross between amused and agitated.

“Oh, dead serious,” Trevor grinned at you, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“You’ve been hanging around Pete too much,” you sighed, turning to walk away. Your hands clutched firmly to your bag. Trevor was trying, you couldn’t fault him for it. You’d been a bit off the whole week and oddly enough Trevor of all people had been the one to notice - to actually say something about it.

Flower had tried, you thought - for about five minutes before she rambled on about her bank robbery.

“Come on, aren’t you just the least bit curious?” He prodded, his brown eyes locked on yours. Trevor looked almost like an excited puppy, nearly bouncing in anticipation as he stood in front of you.

“Maybe,” you replied, watching as his expression morphed into one of pure glee, “But,” you added, “I don’t know if I have the patience to wait five hours while you try and look everything up.”

“I don’t take that long!” He argued, “let’s see you try and do it faster,” he grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” You said, challenging him. There was a faint smile on your face as you watched him. Trevor was…Trevor, but he was trying. You could count the number of people on one hand who had bothered to try so hard for you - at least while you were alive.

“Are you in or not?” Trevor raised his eyebrows at you, a mock serious expression on his face. He began rubbing his hands together, his eagerness on full display.

“Fine, fine,” you acquiesced.

Trevor, gave a triumphant fist pump and set to work opening the web browser. You stood next to him as he painstakingly looked you up on Facebook. Trevor had had the bright idea to look you and your friends up to see what everyone was up to now. You, of course, had been hesitant about it. You were dead. You’d been dead for over ten years and the thought of seeing everyone move on without you, well, it felt pretty shitty. But, he wasn’t wrong, at least not completely. Maybe seeing everyone would help you move on. At the very least, stop making your after life feel like an eternal hell of reminiscing.

It was almost an hour later when he finally got to your old Facebook page. The layout was completely different - you didn’t like it. You should have just stuck it out with MySpace, you thought, was that even still a thing?

“Wow,” Trevor said softly. His eyes focused on the computer screen before looking at you.

“What?” You asked a bit more nervously than you would have liked. He was giving you that look again. The glimpse of something soft around the edges before the smirk came back.

“Nothing, it’s just sometimes I forget you’re actually just capable of a real smile.” He was giving you a toothy grin as he pointed to your profile picture.

“Oh, shut up,” you playfully shoved his shoulder. “I smile and laugh. Pete just told me a dad joke earlier.”

Trevor gave you a look of disbelief.

“What? Okay, it was a lame dad joke, but he’s funnier than you.”

Trevor gasped, “You take that back.”

You let out a warm laugh, you closed your eyes and shook your head. “Sorry you can’t handle the truth.”

“Careful there Pinocchio,” he pointed his finger at you before getting back to work on the computer.

It was painstaking, but Trevor took the time to try and go through as many of your friends' profiles as he could.

Most of your friends were in relationships. Some were married, others had kids, everyone had moved on. Everyone but you.

Trevor circled back to your profile, he was going through some of your photos now. He was silent now, something that got your attention more than anything else.

“I didn’t think you were capable of being quiet,” you said, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Trevor ignored your comment and pointed at a picture on the screen. “Did you take these?”

You glanced at the screen, your smile growing smaller. “Yeah, I had a thing for old historical buildings,” you shrugged, “look where that got me.” You let out a humorless laugh, “I should have stuck with my candids.”

“You were good,” Trevor turned to really look at you now, “really good.”

You felt your throat get tight, your hand gripping onto your bag strap once more. Your camera and earthly life were all in that bag. A stark reminder everyday of what you no longer had.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” you said softly. Your eyes looked from Trevor to the computer screen.

“Trevor?”

“Yeah?”

You turned to look at him fully now. You’d never seen Trevor so…defenseless before.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him.

“Anytime,” he grinned at you, “Another success story in the bag thanks to T-Money.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away.

“Oh, come on! It was a T-Money win!”

You kept walking up the stairs, but the smile never left your face. You’d never tell him, but Trevor really did have a way of making you feel a little less alone. There were worse ways to spend forever. At least T-Money was entertaining.

---------------------------------------

Taglist:

@the-and-sign-anon @kibblesnackz

#trevor lefkowitz #trevor lefkowitx x reader #trevor lefkowitz imagine #ghosts us #ghosts us x reader #ghosts us imagine #ghosts cbs

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shuxiii · 4 months ago

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cat page— 11.

previous : masterlist : next

SYNOPSIS : your disdain for cats reached its peak by constantly hating on a cat fan page in facebook without knowing the person handling the account was actually your crush.

#newjeans fanfic #newjeans #newjeans imagines #kpop idol x reader #idol x reader #newjeans x reader #hanni #hanni pham x reader #newjeans fic #kang haerin x reader #haerin x reader

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felidae-sims · 3 months ago

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Resources for Creating: My Go-To things.

Update: I’ll be updating the list on this page from now on, since Tumblr can’t handle so many hyper-links in one post, on Dreamwidth - right here, so I won't have to update it multiple times. Please note: I keep updating this list, and updates aren't showing up on reblogs. Please check the original post for the most up to date list.

Sooo this is going to be a long comprehensive list. I got back to this game after a long time and with a different computer, with a dedicated graphics card, hurray! It made me want to return to making things, so while gathering back all the necessary stuff, I've complied this list. It might be is updated as I go along, but these are the main things I use. Maby one day i'll even finish something. So here are my go-to resources & tutorials; I'm posting it here for safekeeping, and hopefully others will find it helpful. Everything that's listed is here free. So many wonderful things for free under the cut.

Programs – General:

Creating: Blender. Blender Addons: 3D Print Toolbox – comes with blender, enable it from within the program. Originally for 3d printing. Good for fixing flipped normals, and some quick general repairs. Source Tools And source tools wiki – for exporting as SMD!!!! (SimPe: to enable bump maps for the mesh on import). GMDC Addon for Blender 4.0+ by Nopke.

GIMP. GIMP Addons: G'MIC-Qt. Resynthesizer. Nvidia dds?. Doesn’t it come with Gimp?

Other: Nvidia Texture Tools Exporter (iirc it works with all graphic cards that are compatible, doesn’t require Nvidia). For making Normal / Bump / Cube Maps. For high quality compression.

NormalMaps - Online, For making all types of maps, has good setting menus. A very cool tool.

Converting: Umodel, for Unreal Engine (Static meshes: export as gtlf.2. Animated meshes: export as psk. Requires Add-on). AssetStudio, for Unity. AC Viewer, self implied (+ USD Addon for blender). QuickBMS* and support forum, for basically everything else. (don't forget the required scrips, down the same page). *I haven’t tested it fully yet, but it was recommended here. A tutorial for it is listed further down. Works like a charm.

UV Mapping: UV Mapper, Classic (free) and the most recent Demo (for visualization).

Programs – Sims:

Never Mind the Bollox, Here's Osab and MAGIkarp to the rescue!

Latest version of SimPe, works with a non-default installation path. Chris Hatch's updates.

Home Crafter installation, Post by Huge Lunatic at Sims2Artists.

Repository Wizard, by Pick'N'Mix Mods. A game changer.

DBPF Compare, by Pick'N'Mix Mods.

Object Relocator, also by Pick'N'Mix Mods.

SMD Tools, by Lazy Duchess.

The Compressorizer, by JFade – Lazy Duchess's edit.

Bulk Rename Utility, to change file names in well, bulk. As explained by io here.

Lot Adjustor, by Mootilda at MTS.

Tutorials:

Override the game's graphic settings via Nvidia, as explained by iCad. The settings to Nvidia Profile Inspector she linked to at MTS have been deleted for some reason, here they are via WebArchive.

Meshing in Blender:

Mesh Optimization Info (and links), by Crisps&Kerosene.

Additional - Reducing Polycount:

Tutorial, by Flaming-Chickens (another username on other sites perhaps?)

Edge – Un-subdivide, a quick one by CG Link.

Transfer high poly details to low poly object in Blender, by 3Dnot2D.

Shrinkwrap Modifier - Blender Tutorial for Beginners - Basics, by in2vert.

Placeholder for this Addon that I want to try but haven't found, something for AR that was on facebook's defunct AR.

Scaling tips, by Blender Secrets.

How to fix inverted/ flipped normals, by ipaintsmallthings.

Converting: How to Extract 3D Models, Textures, Music from Unreal Engine Games, by iwanMods.

Extract 2D/3D/SFX Unity Assets fast & easy from your Unity Game, by iwanMods as well.

How to use QuickBMS, by darkhorse.

Guide to Converting 3t2 and 4t2 Part 01 and Part 02, by Chiaroscuro/tenlittlepandas.

Converting TS4 Windows and Doors, by Crisps&Kerosene.

Using Different Material Maps as Shading/Details for Base Texture, in Gimp or Blender, by Pineapple Forest & Crisps&Kerosene: https://www.tumblr.com/crispsandkerosene/764893644571525120/great-info-thats-the-reason-some-conversions?source=share

Texture Editing in GIMP:

Using Gimp Add-ons: G'MicQT. Resynthesizer. Both by Davies Media Design. This guy's channel for Gimp in general – here's a good one to begin with. And another one about layer masks.

Making a texture Tile Seamless: 1. My favorite - How to Make Seamless Textures for Cinema 4D - 3 Levels of Photoshop Wizardry using iPhone Photos, by School of Motion.

2. Simple Trick for More Realistic Texture Patterns in GIMP, by Davies Media Design – Quick and simple, using the Resynthesizer plugin. Good for patterns.

Making walls in SimPe out of a square texture, with minimal quality loss. To be written.

SimPe: Cloneable Objects: A List of Good Objects for Cloning, by IgnorantBliss at MTS.

Huge Lunatic's Tutorials, Her website.

Object Creation for Absolute Beginners, by Moune.

Sims 2 start to finish Object Creation Tutorial, by JWoods, Numenor, Lethe_s & IgnorantBliss.

The Material Definition (TXMT) Guide, by PixelHate – very comprehensive. Part 5 is about Bump/ Normal maps.

Null (Texture-less) Groups, by Skell. For bodyshop, for Objects see an elaboration by Midge the Tree below.

Crisps&Kerosene discovered how to add specular maps to objects! It's incredible there are still new things to discover in this ancient game.

More on Specular Maps, by Pineapple Forest.

Making new flooring & walls with SimPE, by Charisa. Includes adding Bump/Normal maps. She added a file to clone from in the comments below. It works for normal maps as well. Here's cool discovery in the game files.

Expanding footprint: a mini tutorial, by Deedee.

How to add correct drop shadows to objects, by Yuxi, via Wayback Machine.

Making Objects Viewable in Neighborhood View, by iCad.

Making Objects Visible In Build/Buy Mode, Invisible In Live Mode, by Midge the Tree.

Making Seasons-Friendly Trees, by Echo.

Io/ Serabiet's resources list, mainly for Bodyshop but not just.

Pineapple Forest's Tutorials, useful tips for efficiency and optimization.

MTS modding forum in General.

The Sims 2 Tutorials, on Tumblr. A database, is more updated.

Sims2Artists tutorials section.

LeeFish modding forum.

Garden of Shadows, Tree of Knowledge section.

Troubleshooting: What to do if you get a System.OutOfMemoryException Error, SimPe Forum, via WayBack Machine. Thank you @fanseelamb for the find.

How to read object error logs: I just want to know what causes it!!, by Episims.

Common TS2 errors, by Midge the Tree.

General game fuckery: How to Stop Sims 2 Crashing (Memory Allocation Fix and 4GB Patch Repair), by Jessa.

Graphics card problems, LeeFish forum.

Graphics help - DIY, by Kiri. How to fix faulty Texture Memory allocation, and the problems that stem from it. Tumblr can't handle anymore hyper links so here it is: https://celebkiriedhel.tumblr.com/post/189431721483/graphics-help-diy

General: Switching between save folders without renaming them, by Nopke.

Resources:

3D Models Online*: Various furniture designers' websites: Porada, Zanotta, Muuto, Hay, Poltrona Frau, many luxury furniture designer basically.

3D Warehouse, belongs to Sketchfab (get the Collada files).

Scan the World.

Wikimedia Commons. And more.

*(NOT OPTIMIZED).

Textures: Architextures.

Fabrics & Wallpapers: Natural Stones: Wall Plasters:

iCad's Woods. Shastakiss's Cluedo Metals, Yeti Metals, Pirate Woods. Goat's Woods.

Textures from other games: Dishonored, Thieve and much more, by Saricoya at GoS. Dreamfell by io.

Resource sharing threads at Garden of Shadows.

SimPe - General: CEP Extras list, HugeLunatic at Sims2Artists.

TXMT settings for different materials, by Hafiseazale.

Extended SimStandardMaterial Shader for the Sims 2 + Optionally Brighter Sims, by Crisps&Kerosene.

Custom CubeMaps, by Crisps&Kerosene.

Shiny TXMT Settings & Cube Maps Packs, by Pineapple Forest.

Build/ Buy: Templates for Recoloring Maxis items; MTS Templates sction, Hafiseazale (+cc), ZeroDark.

Template for Seasonal Trees, Gwenke at Sims2Artists.

Making Roof Recolors, Tutorial & template by Numenor, great template by iCad.

Pack for making food clutter usable, by DeeDee.

CAS: Default Makeup Packages - BYO Packages, by Huge Lunatic.

Body shape, Io/Serabiet on Tumblr.

Skin template, Io/Serabiet on Tumblr.

Hair texture, iCad.

Color Actions, Pooklet on Tumblr.

That's it for now.

Edit: forgot about CEP extras. Added more links. Edit 02: Added Troubleshooting section under tutorials.

#ts2 #ts2 resources #ts2 creation resources #ts2 resources for creators #the sims 2 #sims 2 #resources #ts2 cc #sims 2 cc #the sims 2 cc #well its cc related #sims 2 resources #the sims 2 resources

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