#can do maths... slowly

[wornkindness]

currently contemplating having avery and his father die when they are the same age, because reasons

[elprupneerg]

ok actually thinking about it a bit more, i'm probably desensitized to this stuff. tried explaining it to a buddy the other day and they looked vaguely ill. which is unfortunate because wastewater treatment is actually super super cool and i wish i felt more comfy with talking about special interest stuff and that other people were ok with hearing about it more so that i could talk about it more. if anyone wants a big rant about how wastewater treatment works (or a smaller rant about how drinking water treatment works, i'm also interested in that but i don't feel like i know as much about it) please please please ask cuz i will gladly talk about it. please <3 🥺

[chickenshitcowboy]

thinking about angel guzman/victor parks….

[shrimp-milf]

👀 you're also a math srimp

math shrimp!! 🤝🤝

[titan-god-helios]

I AM A GOD SUCK MY ASS ALGEBRA

[freakalot]

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

part 2

[denizenhardwick]

i am so deeply charmed by that scene in tkm when the rest of the foxes are out so it's just neil and andrew in the dorm and andrew comes over and knocks on the door and neil lets him in and he says kevin cancelled night practice and neil's first thought it "oh that's perfect i can do my homework!" and then andrew throws a beer tab at his face and neil slowly realizes that ohhhh andrew is in his dorm. and they are the only ones home rn. and they haven't kissed in a week. and then they make eye contact and andrew puts the beer down without drinking it so they can make out. it's so cute. making out with andrew is not something that immediately comes to his mind but the moment he realizes it's a possibility he gets so happy, just. all plans cancelled screw my math test actually this is what i want to be doing :D :D :D

[gallusrostromegalus]

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

[lizardho]

One of the weird things about growing up me is just the increased lack of social awareness sort of slowly reaching a crescendo in junior high. I remember getting picked on a lot more as I got older and older in elementary school, and the bullying started hitting in a weird way in Jr. High. Like, my knowledge of age-appropriate things had finally capped out and I was just entirely oblivious to the fact I was being picked on. Sometimes people made it easy, like the kid who told me my mom made me wrong, but sometimes it was harder. I do have some interesting memories from that time, though, and a lot of them are centered around a very small group of people who were willing to explain things to me. I remember in 7th grade I met a girl in a math class who was incomprehensibly kind to me. She wanted to be a special ed teacher, her older and younger brothers were both on the autism spectrum, and she was friends with all the emo and goth kids, so she was like the perfect storm of patient kindness and anti-establishment knowledge I needed. I remember one day walking out of math class after a fairly hard quiz, and she said,

“Oh man, that quiz was hard. I could really use a hug.”

An I responded with, “Oh, yeah, a hug would be awesome.” And then we just kinda sat there until I saw the light flick on in her brain, like “Oooh, that’s what her deal is!” and she said “Hey, can I have a hug from you?” and I said, “Yeah!” And gave her a hug, and like, even if I didn’t know what my deal was, she sure as hell did.

In addition to being absurdly kind, she was also EXTREMELY conventionally attractive, good at makeup, funny, and had an insatiable bloodlust for bullies, so she drew a lot of a certain type of people in. I always kinda felt lucky just being her friend because God only knows how I would have lived otherwise. One day we were walking to an assembly and she did a little jog to catch up to me because my confused gay ass always walked SUPER fast, and she got me to slow down so we could talk and that was VERY kind. And because of that, one of the kids in our class who had a HUGE crush on her and didn’t know the next thing about her thought that if he made me look mad enough or dumb enough or something that she’d stop talking to me and start talking to him. So he starts by coming up to me and saying,

“Hey dude, I fucking fingered your sister last night.”

And I am a bonafide grade-a dumbass who Does Not Know What Sex Is so I thought he meant he fingered her for a crime. But my sister was like 5 so I was like “What crime could a 5 year old commit?” so I was like “What do you mean? Like, shoplifting?”

And to his credit, he kinda stopped for a second. Not because he wanted to, but because with all his experience as a bully he had yet to encounter someone quite as earnestly confused as me. After he recovered from what, to him, was a bizarre crazy-person non-sequitur, he said,

“No, dude, I mean I fingered your sister last night.”

And I said, “Dude, she’s like…5, what could you have fingered her for?” And he was doubling down so he goes “Because I fucking wanted to,” with a big cocky smile on his face, which was NOT an answer to my question because I NEEDED to know what crime this dick thought a 5 year old could commit between 6:00 dinner and 8:30 bed time. So I kept asking, “But like, what was the crime? Like what did you finger her for?” and he kept being like “Because I want to” or “Because your sister’s nasty like that,” both of which were wholly insufficient answers. He thought I was ignoring him or stupid, and I thought he was a total moron, and realistically both of us were right.

And the whole time we’re talking about this, she is glaring daggers at him and telling him to Shut The Entire Fuck Up because she knows what he’s saying and she knows I do not and she doesn’t want me to learn like this. And finally, because he thinks she’s doing that thing that girls don’t actually do but that boys THINK they do of feigning being mad to play along and egg me on, he starts looking at her like they’re in cahoots, and she says “Oh my God you sick jerk just leave us ALONE!” and that gets a teacher’s attention. And suddenly he’s red-faced and confused because he thought he was looking like Chad Thundercock the top king stud of all time and realistically he’s looking more like the comedy relief pseudo-bully from an 80s film. And because she yelled at him to leave us alone, a teacher almost immediately comes over to check on what’s going on, and she explains it all in graphic detail and that kid got detention and probably a tension headache from trying to make his brain think good enough to figure out how all this happened. And once it was done she just grabbed my arm by the elbow and said “I’m so sorry about that, come on, let’s just go,” and I said, “Idk why you’re sorry, I don’t even know what’s going on.” And she said, “I know, sweetie, I know. Do me a favor and don’t look it up.” And because I promised her I didn’t end up knowing what fingering was until I was a Sophomore in high school when someone in theater explained it to me and I was retroactively so mad at this kid I almost went blind.

I actually have a LOT of stories about this kind of stuff so if y’all like this I will post more.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when rafe finally let’s his friend have a taste..

warnings: dealer!rafe, heavy teasing, both rafe and barry are bullies in this, threesome, oral (f. receiving), praise, groping

a/n: i know the celebration req says topper and barry, but i want to slowly start introducing barry to this blog so i excluded topper in this one.. don’t worry though, topper will be in another fic this week ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

“we won’t be here for long, alright? i don’t wanna hear you whining while i’m doing business, got it?” you hummed, rafe’s words going in through one ear and right out the other as you followed him up the steps to barry’s trailer. despite having been here plenty of times already, you couldn’t help but get shy and hold onto rafe’s arm whenever barry opened the door and flashed you a wink while giving you a full view of that gold-glinted smile of his as you brushed past him to get inside the cluttered living room. “lookin’ pretty as always..” he drawled, motioning for you to take a seat on the dingy sofa.

glancing at rafe, he gave you a nod before him and barry walked into the kitchen and started discussing their profits. you already knew the drill at this point; sit pretty and watch whatever old movie barry’s shitbox of a tv currently played until you grew bored and bothered rafe to take you home. losing count of the minutes you had been in the same spot, you sighed out loud in hopes of rafe hearing you. barry caught it first, his eyes flickering up to where you rested your cheek on the armrest of the couch. you looked heavenly just lying there, your babydoll dress fanning out around your thighs.

“i think someone’s ready to go home.” he laughed, drawing rafe’s attention away from the scale in front of him. “ignore her, she’s only going to keep on with her shit—” rafe didn’t even get to finish his sentence before he felt the sheer material of your dress brush against his arm. “can i sit here, please?” he hated how sweet you sounded asking him, an annoyed huff leaving his lips as he hastily brought you down onto his lap. “don’t go touching nothing.” he scolded just as you had reached for the journal they were doing their math and inventory in.

barry snorted, shaking his head as you retracted your hand, pursing your lips together before leaning back against rafe’s chest. sitting on the couch wasn’t any different, considering rafe still acted like you weren’t in the same room with him while you fiddled with a loose thread on the collar of his shirt. you only took five minutes of his negligence before wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering a small ‘please touch me, ray..’ as barry’s heated gaze raked down your figure. “what did i tell you?” rafe said through gritted teeth, shrugging you off of him.

“you see what i have to deal with all fucking day? she could never keep her hands to herself.” rafe cursed. barry laughed, both of them finding amusement in your needy tendencies. you shrunk in on yourself, feeling your cheeks heat as they continued teasing you, each insult topping the other until you couldn’t take it anymore, your eyes brimming with tears as you got up and ran away to barry’s room in the back. “aww, where are you going?!” rafe called out, rolling his eyes as you shouted back at him. “leave me alone!” you plopped down on the mattress, bringing your knees up to your chest.

barry cleared his throat as their laughter eventually died down, both of them sitting in silence with nothing but your sniffling sounding from the other room. rafe sighed, now feeling a little bit bad for making you cry. “what do you say we give her all the attention we could spare right now?” at this, barry’s head shot up in his direction. “we?” he repeated, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion. with a curt nod, rafe leaned forward. “you’re always saying how bad you wanna know how she tastes like, right?” barry waited for the man in front of him to say he was kidding but it never came.

“let’s go make her feel better.”

the last thing you expected was barry and rafe to walk into the room, both of them circling you as if you were caught prey. within minutes, rafe had you seated between his legs, your back resting against his chest as barry looked up at you from your inner thighs. “look at him, baby, he’s wanted to do this to you for so long..” rafe whispered, hiking your dress up around your hips so barry could get a clear view of your bare cunt. you swallowed nervously, having never been touched by anyone else except rafe. “don’t be scared, sweetheart, i’ll take such good care of you.” barry pressed a soft kiss to your folds before locking your thighs in over his shoulders.

rafe watched his business partner carefully, his cock growing hard at the sight. finally running his tongue up and down your slit, you gasped when you felt barry flick the muscle over your sensitive bud. “shit—” he laughed, his stubble tickling your skin, “you taste so fucking sweet, doll, me and your boyfriend here might have to fight over you.” rafe smiled before cupping your tits through your lacey bra, a small sting of pain making you whine as he roughly groped the flesh. “nah, we won’t have to fight. she can take us both.” you moaned, your hips instinctively moving away from barry’s mouth.

“don’t try to run from this, sheep, i’m gonna have you screaming for more in no time.” you squirmed, hiding your face in rafe’s shirt as barry worked skillful circles around your clit. squeezing your cheeks together, rafe forced you to look down as barry continued making you whimper. you felt yourself wanting to reach down and pull barry’s hair, the pure unadulterated pleasure making you dig your nails into your skin. barry saw you making crescents in your flesh from how hard you were clawing at yourself, his hands coming up to place yours on his head. “you could pull, ‘pretty, you won’t hurt me.”

threading your fingers through his hair, you let out a cry once he slipped his tongue inside your entrance, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit. rafe rolled your nipples between his fingers, his jaw falling slack as you trembled from barry’s ministrations. “i want you to cum and think about us sharing you,” rafe groaned, “..think about us both filling you up.” you breathed in, feeling yourself fall over the edge as rafe praised you for being so good for them. you nearly shrieked when the band in your tummy snapped and barry did nothing to slow down on your poor cunt.

“bear!” you squealed, pulling his head away before overstimulation can set in. looking down at him did nothing but turn you on even more, the sight of the pussy drunk expression on his face making you whine. barry couldn’t get enough, and now that he had a taste of you, there was no going back. rafe shifted his weight behind you, his cock poking your back as you leaned against him in defeat. “why don’t you return the favor, baby? you suck him off while i pound you in for whining when i told you not to.”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[azulpitlane]

crush l ih6

summary: in which comments isack made on lewis hamilton’s daughter’s old instagram posts resurface

masterlist

yourusername march 2020 montauk, ny

liked by lewishamilton, isackhadjar and 8,739 others

yourusername officially licensed and two weeks off of school...life is good

view all comments

user imagine being lewis hamiltons daughter and being able to just drive around the hamptons for fun😔😔😔😔

user omg we got off school too!!

yourbff shoutout to covid🙏

yourusername fr!! i lowkey didnt study for that math test we were supposed to have on thursday

lewishamilton be careful driving!! especially in downtown

yourusername yes father, you only told me a million times already

user i want her life so bad

isackhadjar are you doing anything fun in these two weeks?

user please tell me im not the only one stalking her account after that twitter thread showing isacks comments on her old posts went viral

user YES!! i thought it was fake but hes really here😭😭

user omg i am too and im getting second hand embarrassment… this boy has NO game

yourusername march 2021 new york, new york

liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg, and 8,128 others

yourusername quarantined birthday this year

view all comments

user nico still likes her pics💔💔💔

user im pretty sure he's her godfather so it makes sense

user the twilight cake is so real

isackhadjar happy birthday!! hopefully you still had fun even at home

user this is giving lando tweeting at carlos back in 2012

user he was crushing soo bad😭

user bro took being team lh too seriously and was literally trying to be a part of the family

user LMFAO his comments are so sweet and innocent though🥲 its kinda cute

yourusername december 2021 abu dhabi, uae

liked isackhadjar, lewishamilton and 10,739 others

yourusername its okay guys, hes still the father of two of the coolest kids so hes a winner forever

view all comments

yourbff are you implying roscoe is your brother?

yourusername well yes my dad birthed him

yourbff im-

user its still fuck the fia and verstappen though liked by author

lewishamilton true❤️ liked by author

user she was probably in attendance to see her dad win😭😭😭 this race was so rigged and unfair!!

yourusername straightened my hair for it and everything💔💔💔 (still very proud of my dad tho)

isackhadjar the final few laps were insane! can't imagine what it was like to be there

user LMFAOOO

user another one, thank you

user im gonna let these slide cause he was only like 17 when he wrote these

yourusername september 2022 new york, new york

liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton, and 19,402 others

yourusername proud to admit that my dad chose my outfit

view all comments

user using her nepotism to get into ny fashion week...honestly i respect it

user omg she's slowly becoming a fashion icon like lewis, name a more iconic duo!!!

user imagine being styled by THEE lewis hamilton

user the way the older drivers are always in her likes is so cute! i know they don't play about her

isackhadjar amazing🤩

user this might be the worst one...he wanted the effin cookie so bad...

user its also the last comment he made😞 he got tired of the no response LOL

user he still likes all of her photos to this day though!

-

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isackhadjar

liked by liamlawson, yourusername and 153,425 others

isackhadjar miami weekend🇺🇸

view all comments

liamlawson was the first picture taken before or after you face planted?

isackhadjar can we please move on from that? PLEASE

user liam should not be making me laugh this hard😔 im a fake lawson hater i fear

user thanks for falling🙏 its now one of the most iconic f1 moments on history

user HADJOINTS!! I THINK IT WAS BECAUSE OF THE GREAT FALL OF 2025

user Y/N IS IN THE LIKES

user SHE FOLLOWED HIM BACK TOO

yourusername amazing🤩

user OH MY GOD IS SHE QUOTING ONE OF HIS OLD COMMENTS FROM HER POSTS LMFAO

user SHES SEEN THE THREAD😭

user this is hilarious, i know he's probably freaking out

-

-

yourusername

liked by isackhadjar, danielricciardo and 382,492 others

yourusername miami weekend

view all comments

user i was so happy to see you back in a race😭 we missed u

user the caption is the same as isacks ajskhasjd is she soft launching or just fucking with him ?!?

user need the wag detectives to find out if thats isack on the last slide NOW

user does she know team lh and hadjar fans have come together on twitter to investigate if they're possibly together?

lewishamilton 🖤 liked by author

user okay drama aside, where the hell have you been and why is this your first race appearance in almost three years?

yourusername babes i have a job now🥲

user so you're capable of responding to this comment but not the other ones🤨

yourusername 🤐

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isackhadjar

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda and 292,038 others

isackhadjar thanks twitter for exposing me twice in a row. it really paid off.

view all comments

yukitsunoda there's no way.

user I WANNA KNOW WHAT LEWIS' REACTION WAS

user he actually did it...he has joined the hamilton family...

user this is inspirational af. never give up on the girl of your dreams guys😭😭

user youre telling me she saw him fall flat on his face and thought yeah thats my man🩷

user this actually frying me cause what if they get in a fight then he has to race against her DAD

user are you going to take her last name when you get married?

user when their kids ask how they met they're gonna have to say through instagram comments😊

yukitsunoda how???

liamlawson bro im asking myself the same thing. it might be ai...

isackhadjar ITS NOT ?!? @:yourusername BACK ME UP

yukitsunoda its been thirty minutes and she hasn't responded...mate this isn't looking good for you

isackhadjar SHES LITERALLY RIGHT NEXT TO ME

user the way she liked the photo too but is ignoring his cries for help in the comments😭

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yourusername

liked isackhadjar, pepemarti, and 937,184 others

yourusername his boba eyes and obsession with me have captured me

view all comments

user THE LAST PHOTO LMFAO

user hello isack and miss hamilton, i am coming forward to say that i was the one that posted that twitter thread😀 i personally would like an invitation to the wedding

yourusername noted📝

user OMG

user wow she actually makes him look tall

user obsession is definitely the right choice of words

user WAIT I LOVE THIS SM

user he's a lot bolder than i thought, dating his idol's daughter is crazy

user no cause how did he manage to do that😭

isackhadjar @:yukitsunoda @:liamlawson

yukitsunoda it took you five years, don't try to flex right now🙄

user IM DEAD HE CLOCKED HIM

isackhadjar i told you to delete the last photo😣

yourusername YOU LOOK SO CUTE THO

nicorosberg when's he coming over for dinner?

yourusername next weekend??

danielricciardo im coming too

sebastianvettel ill bring the wine

yukitsunoda can i come too and bring liam?

lewishamilton yes! we'll all be there saturday night!

yourusername YAY IM SO EXCITED

isackhadjar hah...me too...

user OH MY GOD ISACK IS PROBABLY SHITTING HIMSELF RN

user y/n and isack being the reason for a brocedes reunion is sending me

user oh to be a fly on the wall for that dinner😔

-

[luna-azzurra]

Ways I Show a Character Who Believes They’re the Villain in Everyone Else’s Story

╰ Behavioral Red Flags

They assume the worst intentions in themselves, even when they act out of love. They brought you coffee? Probably just guilt. They helped you move? Must be manipulating you so you "owe" them later. (They just care. But they can't believe that's true.)

They over-apologize for existing. You bump into them and somehow they’re the ones apologizing, looking like they've personally inconvenienced your entire bloodline.

They self-monitor everything. Every joke they make. Every word they say. Every look they give. Constant little glances at people's faces, desperate for signs that they’ve messed up again.

They let people treat them badly because they think they deserve it. Rudeness? Sure. Being overlooked? Of course. Public humiliation? Absolutely par for the course. Standing up for themselves feels wrong, like a thief demanding a refund.

They preemptively distance themselves when things get good. Got a close friendship brewing? Time to pull away before they find out I'm terrible. New romance? Better end it now before they hate me.

They assume jokes about "bad people" are secretly about them. "You know those selfish jerks who never change?" someone says. Their inner monologue: That’s me. They mean me.

They play up their flaws. Self-deprecating humor, but not cute self-roasting, deep, almost aggressive, like they’re trying to hand you the knife before you even think about stabbing.

They struggle to accept forgiveness. Apologizing feels natural. Being forgiven feels alien. Like wearing shoes on the wrong feet.

╰ Thought Patterns That Wreck Them

"Even when I try to do the right thing, I mess it up." Trying doesn't absolve them. Trying just delays the inevitable hurt they’ll cause someone else."People are nice to me because they don't know who I really am." Kindness isn't acceptance to them — it's a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode when the "truth" comes out.

"If someone is angry at me, they must be right." They don't even question it. Anger directed at them must be justified. They deserve it.

"If I succeed, it's by accident. If I fail, it's because I suck." Zero credit for wins. Full credit for losses. The math of their self-esteem is so rigged it should be illegal.

"If I ask for help, I'm manipulating people." Needing something feels like emotional blackmail in their mind. Better to suffer in silence than risk "forcing" someone to care.

╰ The Tiny Physical Tells

Laughing after their own serious statements, as if to soften the blow of speaking honestly.

Keeping their hands visible when talking (subconscious "I'm not a threat" behavior).

Flinching when someone raises their voice, even if it’s not directed at them.

Making themselves physically smaller—shoulders hunched, arms crossed, shrinking into themselves like they can disappear if they just try hard enough.

Dropping eye contact when complimented.

Holding their breath without realizing it when waiting for someone's reaction.

╰The Relationships They Gravitate Toward (And Why):

Fixer-Upper Friendships: They think they have to earn affection by being useful, by helping, by being "the strong one."

Unbalanced Dynamics: They let people use them because "at least I'm being helpful, even if they don't actually care about me."

Romantic Partners Who Validate Their Worst Fears: They often fall for people who treat them like they’re a burden—because it matches the script in their head.

Or... Relationships That Terrify Them: Because if someone genuinely loves them, they’re always waiting for the moment that person "wakes up" and sees the "monster" they believe themselves to be.

╰ How They Might Heal (If They’re Lucky)

(And if the author isn’t an emotional sadist. 👀)

A relationship where mistakes are allowed, not punished.

Someone calling them out, not for being bad, but for being unkind to themselves.

Tiny acts of trust that stick over time, slowly poisoning the idea that they’re inherently toxic.

Learning that being flawed and being villainous are not the same damn thing.

Being told, over and over, "You don't have to earn love by being perfect."

[achilles-rage]

Is She Mine?

summary: when buck left pennsylvania, he unknowingly left you there, pregnant with his child. four years later he runs into you and your daughter at the grocery store.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: another buck with a kid fic, another baby name from my baby name list used<3 if you don't like the name argue with the wall. someone gave me this idea months ago, but i can't find the ask, and i know birthmarks like that aren't hereditary or anything, but just pretend lol. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: barely edited (sorry), reader has a daughter (obviously lol), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Delia, come back here right now!” you whisper-yell down the grocery aisle, looking up right as you see your daughter disappear around the corner.

You’ve always been against kids on leashes, but lately, your three-year-old daughter has been single-handedly changing your opinion on them. You can’t take your eyes off of her for more than a couple of seconds before she’s gone; chasing after nothing in particular and probably talking to a random stranger or two along the way, if you know her at all.

You see flickers of her father in her; not merely in her appearance, but in who she is on the inside as well, and she’s never even met him. She’s extremely outgoing and talkative, and stubborn, and has a heart of gold. As much as you hate to see the painful glimmer of her father within her, it also makes you happy to think of your time with him.

You haven’t seen him since shortly after you realized you were pregnant. You were both in college in your home state, and when you took the pregnancy test, you couldn’t figure out how to tell him. You had ended up waiting too long, and when he told you that he was leaving to travel the world, you couldn’t stop him, as much as you wanted to.

You knew how miserable he was with his parents, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ruin his dreams. You knew all he wanted to do was get out of Pennsylvania, and you didn’t want to force him to stay with you just because you had done something stupid. 

You abandon your cart in the middle of the aisle and race after her, haphazardly pulling your purse up your arm as your eyes frantically look around you for a glimpse of her hair, or her light blue shirt. Or was it purple? God, you really need to start taking pictures of her before you go out with her, you think to yourself as your heart hammers in your chest.

Finally, you hear her loud giggle, and you let out a relieved sigh, following the noise and finally setting your sight on her curly hair and her blue shirt. Good to know you were right about that, at least.

“De, what are you doing? You can’t run away from m-” your words catch in your throat as you see that she’s talking to a man who’s bent down to her level and smiling fondly at her. 

When he turns and locks eyes with you, the smile drops from his face, and he stands up straight as his eyes travel down your body. His breath has been ripped from his lungs as he watches you pick up the little girl and set her on your hip, but before either of you can speak, your daughter squeals excitedly in your ear.

“Mommy, he’s got dots, too!” Her tiny hand shoots out toward his eyebrow, pointing at the birthmark above his eye, and you nod slowly, eyes still focused on Buck. Your sweet girl is completely oblivious to the tension between you and Buck; all she can focus on is that this random man at the grocery store has the exact same birthmark as her.

“Buck,” you breathe in disbelief, watching as the realization dawns on him. He knows exactly what he just heard. Mommy. And unless he’s suddenly extremely bad at math, he knows exactly what this means.

His eyes dart between you and your daughter, now seeing the mix of your features on her face. She has your eyes, and her hair is the exact same, but she also has his bright smile, and his nose, and of course, the same birthmark above her eye.

“Is she-” he begins, trailing off as he shakes his head. He’s trying hard to wrap his head around this situation, and the only thought running through his mind is why the hell didn’t she tell me?

“She’s three,” you reply softly, unable to bring yourself to say the real truth. He’s not stupid; you know you shouldn’t need to, and you don’t want to say a thing around Delia, anyway. 

“Why didn’t you-?” he begins again, but you cut him off, keeping a firm grip on your daughter as she wiggles around in your arms.

“You were miserable in Pennsylvania, I couldn’t make you stay,” you explain, your throat feeling tight as you feel all the emotions you’ve been shoving deep down for the past four years fighting their way to the surface again.

“You wouldn’t be making me stay, if I knew, I would’ve wanted to stay. You know that,” he tells you, brows furrowed. 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you since he left. Leaving you in Pennsylvania was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but he knew how important it was for you to graduate, and he couldn’t ask you to leave with him and throw away your own dreams for his. 

Now, looking at you, and the little girl in your arms, his heart feels heavy. He feels guilty for not being there for you for four years. He wishes that he never left.

“And I wasn’t miserable. I had you,” he continues, his fists clenching at his sides as he watches his daughter wrap her arms around your neck and rest her little head on your shoulder. He wants more than anything to hold her, but she has no idea who he is, and that causes a pain in his chest.

“I’m sorry. We were young, and I didn’t know what to do,” you explain, guilt filling your belly. In hindsight, you know you should’ve told Buck; he had a right to know, but you didn’t know what to say.

“Well, I can’t just forget about this now. I can’t just go back to not seeing you, not seeing her,” he says, his tone pleading as he looks down at your daughter again, his eyes soft as he takes in her drowsy eyes.

“Delia,” you tell him with a small smile, tilting your head to the side and resting your cheek against the top of her head.

He smiles too, and you think you see tears forming in his eyes as he nods, then clears his throat.

“Delia,” he whispers. “She looks just like you,” he continues, louder this time. 

You laugh softly, shrugging as you squeeze Delia tighter to you. You’re thankful that she’s been quiet while you talk, clearly tired after a long day at the park, and then running errands.

“I think she looks like you,” you reply, and he chuckles softly, feeling a sense of pride fill his chest. He can’t believe he hasn’t been there to see his little girl grow up, and that you’ve had to do this all alone.

“Please let me see you again. Please.” You smile at his words; you knew Buck would want to help out as much as he could if he ever found out. You feel guilt eating at you as you see the longing in his expression, but this feels like a second chance, and you don’t want to cut him off again.

“Okay. But, can I call you later? I should get her home and ready for daycare tomorrow. We shouldn’t really talk about this here, anyway,” you say quietly, gesturing down to Delia. She may only be three, but she understands a lot, even in her sleepy state, and you don’t want to confuse her before you know what this is.

He nods quickly, then gives you his phone to get your number, and when he has it, you say goodbye before you go your separate ways. 

Your daughter waves haphazardly at Buck as you walk away, and you can’t help the grin that makes its way onto your face. She’s asked about her father before, and you never quite knew what to say. Maybe now she’ll actually be able to have the father she’s always asked about. The one that you’ve longed for for the last four years.

Later that night, when Delia’s in bed, you call Buck and set up a day for him to come over to spend the day with you two. You both agree not to tell Delia who he really is, at least not right away. First, you’ll just get her used to him, and then you’ll cross the next bridge when you get to it.

You weren’t at all surprised when the first time Buck showed up on your doorstep, Delia welcomed him in with a bright smile, grabbing his hand and bringing him into the living room where all her toys were scattered around. You weren’t surprised when Buck sat right down with her and played with her all day, either, only stopping for snack breaks.

Anything she would ask for, he would do, whether it was playing hide and seek, or painting with her, or throwing her up in the air as many times as she wanted while playing what she calls “rocket ship.”

Eventually, his afternoon visits ended up ending later and later, and you’d sit on the couch and talk long after Delia went to bed. You missed hanging out with him, and seeing him being so good with Delia had you falling for him all over again. 

It wasn’t hard to see that he felt the same; you could see the way his eyes wandered down your body, or down to your lips when you were speaking, but you never did anything about it. Your number one priority is Delia, and you don’t want to do anything too early and confuse her. 

One day, a few months after you had run into Buck, he’s sitting on the carpet with your daughter, holding two of her Barbie’s in his hands with furrowed brows as she explains to him who they are. You’re sitting with them, watching with a fond smile, when Delia stops, looking up at Buck quizzically.

“Are you my daddy?” she asks softly, her brows knit together in confusion as she eyes him.

Both you and Buck’s eyes widen, and your lips part as you try to figure out what to say. You knew this was coming, but you couldn’t figure out how to go about it.

“Why do you ask, sweetheart?” Buck finally says, tilting his head to the side as you watch them.

“Everyone at school has daddies. And, you love my mommy,” she explains, looking between the two of you. You tilt your head to the side and steal a glance at Buck, seeing the smile growing on his face. He meets your gaze for a second, raising a brow, and you nod once. You don’t know how this is going to go, but you want to try.

“Of course, I love your mommy. And I love you, too,” he assures her with a smile, bringing a hand up and tracing her chubby cheek with his fingers.

She smiles bashfully, tilting her head to the side, then stops for a moment, thinking. You can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she looks at the space between the two of you, spaced out, and then she looks back up at Buck.

“Will you be my daddy?” she asks, and your heart shatters when you see the nervousness in her eyes. Buck can feel tears forming in his eyes as he looks back into her eyes, and his heart somehow feels both full and empty at her words. He’s been hoping to eventually become Delia’s father for real, but hearing the uncertainty in her voice makes him want to hold her close and never leave her again.

“Yeah, baby, I’ll be your daddy,” he says after a moment, not wanting her to wait a second longer. He lets out a huff as Delia suddenly shoots up and launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling into his lap with an elated giggle.

“I love you, daddy,” she says breathlessly, nuzzling into his neck and squeezing him hard. You watch with a smile, tears forming in your own eyes as you see a tear slip down Buck’s cheek.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice shaky as he hugs her close to his chest.

He’s always wanted a family, and now that he has this one, he never wants to let it go. He just can’t believe he missed out on the first three years. He’ll have to make it up to his girls, he thinks to himself.

“I’m gonna go talk to your mommy for a second. We’ll be right back, okay?” he tells your daughter when she finally gets off his lap and goes back to playing with her Barbie’s.

When you’re both in the kitchen, and sure Delia’s distracted, Buck closes the space between you two, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. You hold his wrists as you kiss him back, caught slightly off guard but quickly regaining your composure as you move your lips in time with his.

When you finally pull back, you’re both out of breath, and he looks down at you with sparkling eyes, studying your face for a moment before bringing your foreheads together. 

“I want to be a real family. I don’t just want her, I want you, too.” he whispers, letting his thumb trace along your skin as he holds your face in his hands. You laugh in slight disbelief, then nod, letting a tear finally fall down your cheek. The last four years without him have been exhausting, and all you wanted was this, but you never thought you could have it. Except now Buck is standing right in front of you, telling you that he wants exactly what you want.

“I want that, too.” you tell him softly, then bring your lips up to his again, kissing him with newfound fervour. 

Your hands go to his chest, bunching up the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer as you part your lips and let his tongue slip into your mouth, searching. He keeps one hand on your face as the other goes down to your hip, holding you flush against him as he tilts your head further up into the kiss, and a low groan escapes his throat as he feels your plush middle pressed against him. 

You finally have to pull away when you hear your daughter’s squeal from the other room; yelling a high pitched “daddy!” 

You both race to the living room, letting out sighs of relief when you see her sitting in the same spot on the carpet that you’d left her, with a cheeky smile on her face.

“Can we have ice cream for dinner?” You scoff, laughing softly as you shake your head. You’ve seen that sweet little expression before; she knows exactly how to ask for what she wants, but unlike Buck, you’re more used to having to say no.

“Yeah, we can have ice cream for dinner, baby,” Buck replies before you can, and your head snaps in his direction, your eyes narrowed. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, however, as he’s smiling fondly at Delia as she squeals excitedly and makes her way to him.

When Buck picks your daughter up in his arms and finally turns to face you, you can feel the sliver of anger slip away, seeing how Delia is looking up at Buck with a dazed smile; clearly happy about finally having her daddy. 

“You’re already wrapped around her finger.” you tease, and all he does is shrug, a smile plastered to his face.

“Happily.” he replies, then leans down and gives you a gentle kiss. You both laugh when you hear Delia’s fake sounds of disgust, and when you pull back, Buck throws her up in the air, then catches her.

“Hey, if I’m gonna be your daddy, you’re gonna have to let me kiss your mommy, that’s part of the deal.” he teases as he throws her up in the air, eliciting a high-pitched giggle from her lips. 

“Okay, okay, okay!” she gets out through breathless gasps, and when Buck hums in victory and lowers her back into his arms, he gives her a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek.

You watch with a grin, and you can’t believe that you lived for four years without Buck. But now that he’s back, you never want to leave him again.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[ihatefrvits]

aced it

tutor!jisung x reader

genre: smut (minors dni 18+), college au, fingering, reader is bad at math but not that dumb, jisung is a bit manipulative.

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: since your finals were coming up, you desperately needed a tutor. so doing what every normal person would do, you asked the top student for help, but his idea of studying under pressure was far from what you had imagined.

authors note: tysm for over 1k notes on practice makes perfect!!! i never expected to get this amount on my first post, i couldn’t be more grateful…🥹 i’ll try my best to post more!! i hope you like this too hehe

➶ ｡˚ 　° ──────────────────

you tried your best to keep up in lectures, finish assignments on time, bullshit your way through the discussion boards, but when it came to exams, you were a lost cause.

"ugh, i don't get it at all!" you groan and drop your pen onto the notebook while pressing a hand to your forehead out of frustration. all the formulas you went over are slipping from your mind, no matter how hard you try to focus.

jisung exhales and shakes his head as he's closing his laptop that’s decorated in space and alien stickers. "no, this isn't working out." he says and leans back against the wall. "we need to try a different method."

as he opens the textbook which replaces the laptop and starts flipping through the pages, you flop backward onto his bed and sigh so loudly that the vibrations shake the empty glass of water on the table.

the noise makes his head turn towards you. at first, it’s like as if he’s studying you; his eyes on you, scanning, thinking, calculating.

you can feel the piercing gaze burning holes in your skin. you suddenly think of searching study methods online, but before you grab your phone, you feel the mattress dip under his weight.

he moves closer to you, so close that his thigh is pressed against yours and you can feel his warmth seep through your shorts. you almost freeze for a second. “jisung—“

he cuts you off with a “shh.” he’s acting like this between you is completely normal, like you two were always used to sharing such intimate contact.

while you’re confused, embarrassed and don’t know what’s going on, he’s focused, unbothered and calm. it’s like as if he has something figured out.

as you were staring into his eyes, you felt his hand move to your thigh, slowly, as if he was testing how far he could go. just below the hem of your shorts, his warm fingers press against your skin.

“…what are you doing?” you manage to blubber out, because you didn’t trust yourself to speak.

“trying something else,” he says and his thumb brushes, which makes you shiver.

this is new, dangerous and completely out of your comfort zone, but you make no effort to move away.

jisung is still studying your face, searching for any sign of resistance, and then he tilts his head. “i thought you said you needed motivation.” your heart skips a beat as you feel his thumb stroke your thigh again, “maybe this will help.”

your mind urges you to say something, ask what the fuck is he doing, tell him to stop, maybe laugh it off… but that would make you dishonest with yourself.

his fingers are still tracing circles slowly against you, still drifting almost beneath the hem of your shorts, never going too far, but never stopping either.

your pulse is pounding in your ears. you swear you can feel your heartbeat everywhere.

“you’re messing with me.” you say with your voice light, almost like you’re expecting him to deny.

he hums and slightly tightens his fingers. “am i?”

you turn your gaze from his hand to his face, but he’s already looking at you. he’s not grinning, not laughing, just watching, like he’s silently asking you, how far can i take this?

your thighs twitch at the sight of him. as your heart won over the small battle with your brain, you exhale and part your legs just enough to give his fingers more access.

jisung notices immediately and his lips curl into something that’s barely a smile. he doesn’t say a word, but his fingers trail further up your inner thigh, in such a measured way that’s enough to make you tremble. “still think i’m messing with you?” he murmurs.

“…no,” you swallow.

“good,” he leans in closer to you and turns your head to the laptop screen, “now focus.” he must’ve turned it on while i wasn’t paying attention, you think to yourself.

a new equation is in front of you, something basic, it’s something you’d usually solve in seconds. but your brain is empty.

“if you get it right,” he whispers, his fingers still massaging your thigh, “i’ll reward you.” his other hand slides across the sheets, pulling the laptop a bit closer.

“but if you get it wrong…” he hums and tilts his head slightly. you can feel his fingers pressing little bit harder. “then we try something else, okay?”

your legs shift as the heat is pooling in your lower stomach, you’re not sure whether you want to get the answers right or wrong.

you try to focus, but all you can think about is the way he’s pressing his fingertips into your skin. the question is simple, you just have to say what’s the derivative of 5x², but your mouth is dry.

you know the answer to it, you two have gone over this theme hundreds of times, but you can’t open your mouth, your mind is completely blank.

“uh—“ your voice is trembling. you need to answer. “ten x?” you finally breathe out.

for a second, there’s silence. you start to think this is some sort of joke, that he was gonna laugh it off any second.

but inside your shorts, his hand slides higher, his palm presses right over your panties, and he hums, “correct.”

before you reach out to the laptop to read the next question, you feel your underwear get pushed to the side. you don’t have enough time to react as he slides his ring finger inside, which makes your breath catch and your thighs clench.

his finger presses in deeper and your hips instinctively roll forward, chasing more friction, he chuckles at that and his other hand slides up to press against your thigh to keep you still.

“we…we’re supposed to be studying,” you blurt out. he tilts his head and slips his finger in fully, “should we stop then?” you try to reply, but the only thing that’s close to a response from you is the way your hips keep twitching, almost begging him to move his finger, and he curls his finger inside, touching your sweet spot, which makes you let out a small whimper. jisung hums, “thought so.”

you dig your nails into the sheets. yes—it feels good, but it’s not enough. “jisung…” you whisper.

“hmm?” he answers in a mocking tone as his other hand grips your thigh tighter so he keeps you spread for him.

his finger starts moving inside you, but it’s so slow it’s like he’s not completely giving you what you want. though, you can’t bring yourself to protest.

“now, next question,” his voice is low. your eyes are locked on the laptop screen, but your brain is too fuzzy to register any number. you can barely breathe, let alone think.

he must know the effect he has on you as he reads the equation out loud, “derivative of three x squared?” he asks and presses his finger again.

you tremble from the touch, “fuck—“

“that’s not an answer, y/n.” his voice is so calm, not like he’s fingering you, more like he’s genuinely waiting for you to answer him. like you’re actually supposed to focus on fucking math.

it’s not like you’re not trying. you are trying to answer, but the way his finger is pumping inside you so slowly, curving it slightly with each thrust makes you on the edge of craving more.

“come on, baby,” jisung coos and his lips brush your temple, “i know you know this one.”

your hands curl into fists, “i—six x?” you gasp.

he hums in approval and adds another finger, causing your back to arch. given how large his hands are, the stretch is perfect.

before you control yourself, your thighs snap shut against his wrist, your whole body is trembling and you’re completely overwhelmed.

he sighs like he’s disappointed in you. “don’t do that,” he says before using his other hand to pry your legs apart again.

his fingers push deeper and suddenly his thumb brushes over your clit. it’s barely there, enough to tease you, but not enough to satisfy you. it still draws noises from you.

“better,” he whispers and asks a question you don’t even bother registering. you blurt out a random number, hoping you’re right, gasping as you gave him the answer.

he’s silent for a second, until he answers, “wrong,” and presses his thumb down on your clit, hard.

your whole body jerks. a broken moan spills from your lips and your legs almost start closing on him again, but his grip tightens and locks you in place. “you’re gonna have to do better than that, baby.”

his fingers slam into you faster, more deeper. the slow pace he’d set earlier is gone. your body is reacting on it’s own, your hips rolling into his hand, your mouth letting small whimpers every time his fingers thrust in you. you can feel how wet you are based off the slick sounds and how easily he’s moving inside you.

“look at you,” he whispers as he’s watching the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part, the way your nails dig into the sheets, “you’re not paying attention at all, is this how you’re going to pass exams?”

you can’t even hear him. physically yes, but your mind is drowning under the pressure of his fingers curling inside you and his thumb massaging circles onto your clit.

it’s so perfect, so precise that you could almost believe he’s playing with your body like he’s been waiting to do this.

but how could that be? jisung, the top student who barely speaks to anyone, who hid his face in glasses when you practically begged him to tutor you for finals.

jisung, who side-eyed you every time you spaced out in lectures, who rolled his eyes when you’d rather scroll on your phone than take notes.

jisung, who sighed dramatically when you showed up to your first tutoring session completely unprepared, who scoffed when you whined about how you’d never pass if he didn’t help you.

jisung, who agreed anyway, who sat beside you for hours, patiently going over problems, reminding you of formulas, watching you struggle.

jisung, who smirked slightly every time you leaned in closer, every time your knee bumped his under the table, every time you chewed on your lip and complained that math was ‘so hard’.

jisung, who was always so calm, so unbothered, so normal.

jisung, who’s completely unraveling you now.

like he’s been waiting to do this, like he’s thought about it, like you didn’t catch up with it.

your thoughts quickly get cut off from the knot in your stomach coiling tighter. “jisung,” you gasp, your words barely audible, “i—i’m gonna—“

he presses harder, his fingers hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over. “you’re gonna cum all over my fingers?”

you nod quickly and desperately. your body is trembling, your stomach is coiling tighter, tighter, tighter—

until he pulls his fingers out. completely.

the loss causes your body to tense, a sharp gasp breaks from your lips and your hips roll down against nothing, chasing friction that’s no longer there. “what the fuck.” you cry out in desperation.

jisung leans back against the headboard like he didn’t just ruin you in the span of five seconds. his fingers, soaked, still dripping with you, lift lazily to his lips.

you stare at him as he licks them clean. you can’t even process the fact that he just left you so empty, so fucking desperate, so completely on edge.

“you wanna cum?” he asks while smirking, it’s not a question, he knows the answer.

your whole body trembles, thighs still spread for him, pussy throbbing, breath uneven.

“yes,” you say instantly, “yes, yes, yes, please, i need—“

“then ace your exams.”

your brain stalls.

your jaw drops.

“…you’re joking.”

jisung shakes his head, like this is just another normal conversation, like he didn’t just lick your arousal off his fingers.

“you don’t get to finish,” he says simply, “not until you earn it.”

your nails dig into the sheets, “you’re insane.”

“i said i’d help you,” he answers, “but i never said i’d make it easy.”

you shudder. you’re still clenched tight, still throbbing, still sitting at the edge of your orgasm, still waiting for him to slam his fingers back inside you.

he knows. he’s still sitting there, fully clothed, perfectly composed, like he didn’t just completely fuck you over and left you aching for him.

you can’t even say anything.

“better start focusing more,” he hums, stretches and goes back to his phone, completely unbothered.

➶ ｡˚ 　° ──────────────────

part 2 can be found here!!

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #17

One week. One fucking week. That’s how long it took before the universe’s reality collapsed in on itself like a toddler knocking over a block tower made of cosmic rules, and Danny Fenton—sorry, High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, Keeper of Balance, Ghost King of All Dimensions, Supreme Bureaucratic Overlord of Death and Souls, or whatever other bullshit title Clockwork slapped on him—was done. He was so done. With everything. With life. With afterlife. With bureaucracy. With math. Goddamn, he hated math.

He phased through the ceiling of what was left of the Avengers compound without so much as a knock because, frankly, he didn’t care anymore. People were dead. Everyone was dead. Half a fucking universe. And universes are fucking infinite. Literally. He’d been counting. Or trying to. But the math broke somewhere around “nine trillion decillion” and his brain short-circuited.

Inside, the Avengers were scattered around like bad leftovers. Steve was slouched in a chair like someone told him America lost the war. Thor was cradling a bottle like it was the last warmth in the world. Natasha looked like she hadn’t blinked in hours. Banner was trying to fix a coffee machine that had already given up on life. Tony—oh, Tony—Tony looked like he’d been held together with duct tape and sarcasm, and not the good kind.

“Yo,” Danny said, arms folded, crown floating behind him, cape swishing dramatically like it had beef with gravity. “Which one of you assholes thought wiping out half an entire goddamn universe was a great idea?”

They blinked. Steve slowly got to his feet. “Uh… who—?”

“No. Shut up. Don’t talk. I’m not in the mood. I haven’t slept in a week. Time doesn’t even exist in the Infinite Realms, and I somehow managed to be late to ten meetings that haven’t happened yet. Do you know what kind of eldritch administrative nightmare I’m dealing with? Do you?”

Tony blinked. “Not really, no.”

Danny whipped around to face him, pointing a glowing finger. “I don’t care, Stark. I don’t care that your kid sidekick is dead. I don’t care that half your team is sad. I don’t care that your billionaire ass is depressed and growing a sad beard like you’re auditioning for ‘Survivor: Superhero Edition’. I have literal oceans of paperwork made out of the screams of the damned piling up in my inbox because some purple California Raisin thought committing universal homicide was a vibe.”

“Hold on,” Natasha said, standing now, brows furrowed. “Who even are you?”

“I’m the janitor,” Danny deadpanned. “Of death. And you—you are all on my shit list.”

Steve opened his mouth.

“NO. I said no talking. Do you know how many souls half a universe is? Do you? BECAUSE I DON’T. THAT NUMBER DOESN’T EXIST. That’s not even math anymore, that’s heresy. There are species no one even knows about! I had to learn seven extinct galactic dialects in five minutes just to sign their death certificates!”

“Wait—wait,” Bruce said, cautiously stepping in like someone trying to defuse a bomb made of feelings. “You’re… the King of the Afterlife?”

“Infinite Realms,” Danny corrected. “Afterlife implies one dimension. I’ve got infinite. One of them is just an endless IKEA. You think you’re in hell? Try getting lost in that one for eternity.”

Tony blinked. “That explains the floating crown.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Danny snapped, sarcasm thick. “Yeah, the crown’s real subtle. You know what else I’m wearing? These.”

He held up his fingers. On them gleamed the actual Infinity Stones. Not the ones Thanos used. No, these were the OG versions—before the universe dumbed them down for mortal brains.

“I’m wearing multiversal cosmic artifacts as fucking accessories, Stark. I clapped death back into submission on my way here. I threatened Time itself with a lawsuit. I am so tired.”

Everyone was staring now. Thor slowly lowered his bottle.

“I have one question,” Thor said, eyes narrowing. “Can you bring them back?”

Danny didn’t respond immediately. He paced, muttering under his breath about soul processing queues and spectral overflow reports and ghost union strikes.

Then he turned, threw up his hands, and shouted, “Fine! Fine! But only because if I see one more Ectoplasmic Reconciliation Form I’m going to scream my own name and rip reality in half!”

Tony raised a cautious hand. “Just to clarify… you’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

Danny glared at him. “I am doing this because your collective idiocy has backed up the Infinite Realms so badly, I have ancient god-beasts getting angry Yelp reviews for not guiding souls fast enough.”

Bruce choked. “You get… Yelp reviews?”

“Do not ask. Do not google ‘Spiritual Bureaucracy Yelp.’ You’re not ready. It’s worse than you can even imagine.”

He clapped his hands. The power reverberated like a sonic boom made of lightning and bass drops. Light cracked through the floor, time folded, and space rewrote itself. In an instant, everything was back. People. Planets. Souls. Loved ones. Unsnapped. Safely. No one reappeared in traffic or mid-air. They were all fine.

Everyone stared.

Tony gasped. “…Peter?”

Somewhere in the compound, Peter Parker screamed, “MR. STARK I THINK I DIED?!”

Danny muttered, “Yeah, well, get in line, kid.”

Tony looked like he might cry. Steve looked like he might cry. Even Thor blinked back tears.

Danny didn’t give them a second to bask.

“Listen to me and listen hard, because I am only going to say this once. The next time you idiots let some glorified space grape get his hands on cosmic power and kill half the universe, I’m not bringing anyone back.”

Natasha stepped forward. “Wait—what—?”

“I said,” Danny growled, eyes glowing green and crown sparking violently, “the next time this happens, I am going to let the universe rot. I don’t care if it’s your kid, or your moms, or your emotional support dog. You will live with it. You will suffer. Because I’m not spending another week cleaning up your mess like the goddamn galactic janitor!”

Tony muttered, “Kinda thought you said you were the janitor.”

“I will kick your kneecaps off.”

Tony shut up.

Danny took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m going home. Do not call me again unless the universe is actually ending. And even then, it better be certified by at least three gods and signed in triplicate.”

He started floating upward, preparing to phase out, when Steve blurted, “Wait, thank you. Really.”

Danny paused mid-air, sighed, and turned around. “You’re welcome. I guess. But seriously. If another genocidal space maniac so much as coughs on the timeline, I’m filing a restraining order on this entire dimension. Bye.”

And with that, he vanished in a swirl of ectoplasmic smoke, leaving the Avengers staring at each other in the awkward silence that followed a divine ass-whooping.

Thor finally muttered, “I liked him.”

Tony sat down, blinked a few times, then said, “He just wore the Infinity Stones as rings. Like mood jewelry.”

Bruce nodded solemnly. “He’s not paid enough.”

“Was he even paid at all?” Steve asked.

And somewhere in the realms between life and death, Danny Phantom screamed into his pillow made of souls: “I AM NOT GETTING PAID FOR THIS BULLSHIT!!!”

[ghostlycamil4]

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐷𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑂𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒

"Bakugo, I swear, not again..." you had said a few minutes ago, almost in a whisper, as you pushed away the cold plate you had prepared hours ago. The dinner was still there, untouched. The table set. Candles unlit. →⁠_⁠→ Part 2

He sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his messy blond hair. He made a small gesture of defeat, barely noticeable, almost like a nervous tic.

"You forgot again," you said without looking directly at him, your voice soft but firm, like a well-sharpened knife.

Bakugo closed his eyes for a second, swallowing hard. His jaw clenched.

"I didn't forget. I got held up." His voice was deep, a little hoarse from yelling orders during an operation. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, still buzzing with mission alerts, reports, and messages from heroes in the field. He tossed it on the table.

"You missed dinner, Katsuki. Our dinner. You said tonight would be different. You said you'd try."

"I am trying! Damn it!" Bakugo's voice rose without meaning to. He took a step toward you but froze when he saw the way your brows furrowed, hurt, though you were trying not to show it.

Silence fell for a few seconds.

"I'm not out there slacking off. The city needs me. My job needs me!" he said through gritted teeth, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

You stood up slowly, crossing your arms.

"And I don't need you? I don't count?"

"I didn't say that." Bakugo lowered his voice a bit, but it was still heavy with tension.

"Can we have a date later, okay?" he added, a desperate attempt to smooth things over.

"When?" you asked, not sarcastically, just with a painful sincerity.

He went still. For a second he looked like he was choking on the words. He furrowed his brows, doing mental math: patrols, training, a committee meeting, rotating night shifts...

"I don't know. I have to check… but we will, okay?"

You let out a humorless laugh, bitter enough to make his jaw tighten further.

"So now I gotta schedule a date with your secretary?"

"I didn’t mean it like that!" Bakugo snapped, his face flashing with instant regret—and helplessness.

Your shoulders dropped, like that was the final drop breaking the dam.

"There’s always a thousand things more important than us..."

Bakugo opened his mouth, but didn’t speak right away. His lips pressed into a thin line. He looked at the floor, then at you.

"Yeah... because that’s how it is," he finally let out. His voice wasn’t harsh anymore. It was honest. Raw. Painful.

And then there was silence. He stood in the middle of the room, you in front of him, just a meter apart—and yet, so far away.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.