#FELLOW MANGO APPRECIATORS WE FUCKING DID IT!!!

[whathasangramainyudonewrong]

Wrong #365

I gave him another grail and I think the amount I’ve given him has gone to his head

Sir where did you get the throne you’re sitting on?

And what is flowing out of the grail????

[muddyorbsblr]

thots & theories :: loki season 2 episode 1

This post will contain spoilers for the first episode of Loki Season 2 under the cut so please if you haven't watched yet, then press Keep Reading at your own risk.

What you will find under the cut: Whoring out and the return of a side of me that I never actually thought would ever come out again…"Theorist Ally" 🥴🫡

Thots

Please tell me I wasn't the only one at risk of heading to the ER from choking after seeing that first shot of TVA agents chasing Loki down the hallway like besties & fellow whores I did not have "Marvel mercifully decides to leave the mango untouched" in my 2023 bingo card. But we actually got that shot in HD now and it's blowing my tiny whoring mind 🥵😮‍💨

And all the hair flips we got once he lands from a time slip with the tense jaw and neck muscles like Sir we're trying to feel for you and feel the urge to wrap you in a blanket and give you cuddles, but you're making it really hard not to think about [redacted]

Lemme just give y'all some shots that had me feeling all kinds of ways throughout this episode:

Thoughts

Something I really appreciated in this was that while Loki was concerned about how the time slipping looked to people witnessing it, Mobius was more concerned about how Loki felt experiencing it. Precious beb deserves to have someone that actually cares to that level and that bit just warmed my cold dead heart 🥹

In the same vein as above, Mobius' refusal to give up on Loki coming back until the last possible second and even begging OB to hold off a little longer really struck a chord with me because again, he now has someone that isn't just concerned about his well-being but also will believe in him even if everyone's going to tell them to give up 💖

The scene where OB was remembering new memories from his past in realtime during his conversation with Mobius in the present was something that I found insanely clever like let me tell you I was geeking out about it on my couch at 9am on a Friday morning

The sequences where Loki begins to realize in seconds where he's been yoinked off to in the timeline was a really good showcase of how smart our stabby boi is because he was using elements in his surroundings to form a timeline in his head to estimate where he was and he's doing all this under the pressure of not knowing when he's going to disappear again and under visibly excruciating pain 🥺💖

I'm living for the fact that B-15's part of the main group of characters and she really served that look of "are you fucking kidding me and right in front of my salad" when General Dox and X-5 were having their little moment.

Speaking of Dox and X-5…something's going on with those two and if y'all are thinking "mother/son" then lemme just nudge you in the direction of Oedipus Complex because…something about those two don't sit right with me 😖😖

The whole profound emotional moment with Sylvie finally feeling like she can breathe and not have to worry about running anymore and actually eat something that isn't something she hunted would have had the teeniest bit more impact if it didn't take place in a McDonald's but I gotta admit I too have once considered trying the entire menu 😂

Theories

Let's start off with my theories surrounding the scene where they fix the Temporal Loom because I have a feeling that we're going to be returning to that sequence and that setting quite a few times towards the end of the season. And with that sequence alone I have so many questions.

Like how did Sylvie get stuck in the elevator? Who pruned Loki that allowed him to return to his present timeline and also save Mobius in the process? Who's on the other end of the line on that ringing phone in the future? Why is General Dox sending troops upon troops of Minutemen to Sylvie's location and how is she even certain that where they're all headed off to is the location they're after?

So here's a few of my theories/predictions for what we're about to see as Season 2 plays out:

Loki prunes himself – I think we're going to revisit that scene where Loki gets pruned only from a more future Loki's point of view where we see that he's the one that prunes Episode 1 Loki so that he could be extracted and returned to his present timeline. He's the one holding the time stick.

General Dox is a tertiary antagonist – in the grand scheme of the season I think she and X-5 will probably at most be a nuisance with some firepower, but they're not the biggest threat after Kang, which leads me to…

OB is a secondary antagonist – I know I know we love him right now because he's fun and quite matter of fact, but hear me out. I think that his priority will be fixing the Temporal Loom which goes against what at least B-15 stands for because each branched timeline has countless lives living in them. He knows how the loom works and he knows how to repair it, so he puts that above all else to the extent where he could try and reconcile them all once again into a Sacred Timeline. Point is, he won't want the Loom to break.

Rennslayer and Kang are the primary antagonists…and maybe also Minutes? – that casual hard launch in the beginning scenes where Loki's in the past TVA hasn't left my mind and I think this is where we're headed

And now here's where I go tin foil hat and give my most out there theory that I hope won't happen but something tells me that it will.

So…y'all know how in Doctor Who, Clara Oswald sacrifices herself into the Doctor's timeline and splits herself into thousands (maybe even millions) of iterations of herself with the singular goal of saving the Doctor? She becomes a being that is destined to make that decision again and again because the Clara that jumped into the timeline was a life that's probably already been created as a result of that very sacrifice?

That type of circular infinite path of life is like the snake that's forever doomed to eat its own tail in a circle until the end of time. That concept and that symbol is called an Ouroboros.

And now that I've given that long winded intro here's the part where some of you are about to click off and call me delulu and you know what valid but if you're still here and you wanna see the clown show here we go:

Loki will become an Ouroboros

I don't think this episode was just titled "Ouroboros" because we're being introduced to OB. I think there was a more profound meaning to the episode title, that meaning being that this is the path that Loki's headed down. I think he sacrifices himself in the scene where he faces the Temporal Loom without a protective suit on and this will cause him to split into infinite versions of himself throughout the timelines. And one of these infinite versions will find himself in the Future TVA where he sees the Loki from Episode 1 running in search of a time stick.

Now I can already hear some of you going "But Ally why would he do that?" And I'm going to pull from Loki's words directly to explain what his motive could be to do such a thing:

"I want to save my friends"

Now with all that being said, I'm totally open to other theories and I genuinely hope that my big theory is not correct because I really don't like that that's the route my brain went when trying to connect the pieces.

Gonna go and tag some usual suspect besties in this (and not gonna put this into the series tag because self preservation): @gigglingtiggerv2 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @coldnique @peachyjinx @gruftiela @lokisgoodgirl @loopsisloops @give-me-a-moose @lokischambermaid @tallseaweed @mischief2sarawr @maple-seed @joyful-enchantress @november-rayne @ladyofthestayingpower @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @liminalpebble @simplyholl +++

[peachyunjinnie]

any blogs you wanna send love to? they don't have to be writers— i'm trying to prove a point here!❤️️❤️️

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@ammuqwer Alice, i love you and your lovely compliments you give me all the time to hype me up :’). you are so talented and such an amazing writer and friend. i could not tell you how fUNNY YOU ARE ecila sotl uoy evol i ;)💗

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@channiesmixtape woody :( ugh where the actual heck should i start? you are for real the biggest and coolest writer that i know one here and with the amazing jungwoo content you give us is just-😞 you are one of the big writers that inspired me to write as well and that was one of the best decisions i could have made on here, to switch from reader to writer! i love you and your selcas! (forreal you is a goddess)💗

@chanonymous s n e h a  m y  p u p p y  m o m  i am your problematic cutie and i love it! we don’t interact as much as we could but the times we do i really have such an amazing time to talk to you and talk about stuff that are just often talked about! i seriously learned some physics for you and i cannot believe that i did but i would do it again for you💗

@cherryeol04 CHERRY! okay, you are so cute and so adorable idK WHY BUT YOU ARE!!! you deserve so much and nothing but the absolute best! your fics are really so well written and you are one of the most underrated artists on here. you really create art on here and that’s nothing but the truth. i love you and i wish to reach your level of writing one day!💗

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@kinkywoojins SAMMY SAM! okay okay, the moment i realized that i know you hoe i was 😦 like just 😦. DESTINY IS SUCH AN AMAZING THING HAHAHA i love you mom and i love your posts! if you post again i can bet my left eyebrow i will be the first one to read the masterpiece. AND YOU ARE SO SO GORGEOUS LIKE WOW- THE DOUBLE KNOT PHOTOSHOOT WAS A WHOLE AESTHETIC- i love you so sooooo much!!💗

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@lixieslexie LEXIE! okay okay okay. you made me nearly cry when you said that you watched Ghibli movies and I COULD NOT PUT IN WORDS HOW PROUD I AM you are really so pure and such a sweetheart and you have found my softspot some way and now you are my C U T I E. i love u💗

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@mikoto-ica-fics m i c a  okay so, YOUR DEMON EYE PIC WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I AM NOT KIDDING YOU ARE SO SO SO SO PRETTY!! I COULD NOT BELIEVE TO SEE THE EVERY SINGLE ONE ON HERE IS SO GORGEOUS AND THEN THERE’S ME LIKE WOW JUST WOW UNFAIRNESS AT AN ENTIRE DIFFERENT LEVEL- but you are such a pure person and your writing skill is another level of genius. love yuuuu💗

@mini-meanhoe summi🥺 i can’t believe that you are FINALLY my friend and now that we are and the pics you send me of bald stray kids i really do not regret it a SINGLE bit. BUT YOUR FLIRTY ASS NEEDS TO STOP like i kinda just have a constant bellyache from laughing because you of your flirty actions- you are the death of me and i am really not minding it at all hshshhah. also your writing is so good and you have to continue cuz nabi needs more to read! i LOVE you💗

@nightshade-minho miKA i love you and you are so hardworking and i really admire you on another level. i wish i could maintain such a huge blog like yours! you are really a mAgIcAL person cuz no way a normal human being is so cute and talented. when i saw that you’re following me i shit you not i had a 20 minute happydance in my room- imma end this before i expose my cringy ass too much, i luv u💗

@particularemu nicole! we haven’t interacted really but i really had to say this if you see this or something! you are awesome! you are great! you are incredible, you are wonderful! i love you and your sometimes random hyunjin reblogs and i could not get enough of them! i love you lots💗

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@seungmins-sunshine ANNA I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU  I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU nothing else to say than that💗

@shari-skz shari! a fellow hyunjin stan and basically my sister...? anna’s family is complicated and i am so confused with who i am related to on here bUT what was about to say is that you brighten up everyone on here so much through the many hateful and irrelevant anons! i love your child ass and i hope we can talk more in the future!💗

@thevampywarlock aShY AsH I LOVE YOU. I SEE YOU AND I INSTANTLY UWU HARD IDK WHY BUT THE ENERGY YOU GIVE OFF IS SO CUTE I CAN’T EVEN STAY NORMAL AND I HOPE YOU CAN ALWAY COME TO ME WHEN YOU NEED TO AND WHEN YOU FEEL SAD OR SOMETHING CUZ I WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY AGAIN💗

@vocalyunhoamelie!!!! the way we first interacted was so weird and so cool at the same time! and the anonie you gave me on your blog really just hits different🥺 and it will stay our little secret hehee i love you and i hope i can get into more of your ateez work!!!💗

@yangomangos MANGOS! mh where to start, you are so adorable and so...idk just give me cute vibes? i was the most nervous little shit to text you because you kinda seemed like a celebrity to me JHGSJHGJASHHI with all of your work being out there and just thriving! you are such a baby and i will not argue over you being a baby! i love you and i really hope we can have better days in the future!💗

@yoyo-mans haya! i really don’t even know where to start with you! you are really such a huge huge friend for me and i couldn't tell you if i would be still here without you by my side. i want you to know that you are absolutely amazing and beautiful! i love you so much and i hope we can make many memories together!💗

[fortitude-sakura]

Noir [11/?]

WARNING: NSFW

AO3

previous

From: Takaya Ito (itotakaya@uchihaenterprises.com) To: Sakura Haruno (harunosakura@uchihaenterprises.com) Subject: Internship Program - 3rd Quarter Placements

Hi Sakura,

I hope you’re enjoying your internship thus far. You will be remaining as Director Uchiha’s  executive assistant for your 3rd and 4th quarter placements.

If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask.

Kind Regards,

Ito Takaya

黑

What. Both third and fourth quarters?!

It was the only thing that runs through her mind as she rereads the email over and over again.

It isn’t that she didn’t enjoy being executive assistant to the Director - far from it. She’s  privy to a lot of things that others would die to know. She gets to witness decision making at the highest level and how it creates a ripple effect throughout the entire company. She knows things weeks before her fellow interns catch wind of it. But she can’t help but feel that she’s merely a witness to these happenings. She wants to be in the thick of it, making the decisions herself and having a say on how a project is developed.

She knew she wasn’t doing poorly. Surely her performance had been good enough to-

And she suddenly remembers that careers article she read.

Don’t be so good at your job that you’re irreplaceable. You’ll lock yourself into your position and close any doors of opportunities for promotion.

Had she done her job too well? Was this the position that they had deemed to be the best fit for her? Surely not, right?

Shannaro! This isn’t what I wanted out of an internship!

But is it really that bad? She could have had it much worse. Other interns at other companies simply made photocopies, fetched coffee and  squabbled over staplers and hole punches and the lack of stationery. Sasuke is a surprisingly kind employer and it made all the easier that he was nice to look at.

Bad! No! We’re not going there again.

She decides to find Takaya-san anyway.

黑

“Hi Takaya-san, can I talk to you for a second? Are you busy?” Sakura asks, poking her head into Takaya-san’s office.

“Oh Sakura! I was just about to look for you! Have a seat.” Takaya-san gives her a warm smile. “I have some great news for you.”

What, that I’ll be the Director’s executive assistant permanently?

“A spot opened up in the Employee Housing Program. You’re still interested in the program right?”

“O-oh.” Sakura stutters, having been caught off guard. “Yes definitely.”

Takaya-san smiles once again. She puts a few papers into a thick envelope and hands it to her.

“These are the details of the apartment - it’s a one bedroom, 10 minute walk from the office. There’s a security office at the entrance. There’s also an underground carpark if you have a car. The floor plan is in the packet. It’s unoccupied at the moment so you can move in straight away.”

It means she has to move out of her apartment with Tenten.

“I currently live with a roommate. I’d like to make sure that she has someone to take over my half of the lease before I move in, if that’s okay? It might take a week or so.”

“Of course. The key is with the security office so collect it when you have a chance. The rent is deducted from your pay automatically so I’ll need you to sign this. It won’t come out of your pay until the start of next month.”

Sakura signs the papers offered by Takaya-san.  

“You wanted to ask me something as well, right?” Takaya-san asks as she files the signed document.

“Yes, it’s about my placements.”

“I had a feeling you’d ask me about that. There were multiple factors that influenced the decision. We weren’t able to find a suitable candidate for the position. Of course, you remember his opinion of Keiko and we’d like to avoid another situation like that. You don’t mind right?”

But.. you had three months to find a ‘suitable candidate’.

“The Director has been really pleased with you so far. You’ve been a great help to him and I know he appreciates your efforts. He was happy to keep you on as his executive assistant.”

She must have seen the worried look on Sakura’s face, because Takaya smiles softly like a mother would when explaining something to a child.

“It’s an excellent opportunity, Sakura. No other intern has ever had the chance to observe the Director and learn from him directly. If you’re worried that this is a permanent arrangement, I can assure you it’s not. I will make sure that it isn’t.

“You’re doing a really good job and I believe that employees should be rewarded when they do well. Both the Director and I are of the opinion that you stand to benefit much more as his executive assistant than shuffling papers in the Finance department.” Takaya-san says.

Takaya-san is genuine, Sakura knows this. Takaya-san helped develop the intern program so she had little motivation to see the interns she hired do poorly. She had spoken so earnestly at the intern orientation without bullshit embellishment. There’s no excessive praise and Sakura feels that she can trust her.

“Thank you, Takaya-san. I really appreciate your faith in me.”

黑

“An apartment in the city? That’s amazing! How much is the rent?”

Tenten’s reaction isn’t one that she had expected. She didn’t seem at all fazed that she’d be without her roommate - she’s just happy for her friend.

“Really low for a place in that location. Here.” Sakura says, handing Tenten the envelope that Takaya had given to her earlier. “I’ll help you look for a new roommate.”

“Thanks.” Tenten says, flipping through the papers. “Woah, there’s even a balcony! Is there a policy on visitors?”

“I don’t think so, not from what I could see. You can come up for drinks and dinner or stay over when we go out.”

“Thank fuck. I hate paying for ubers. They’re so expensive on Fridays and Saturdays. Anyway, I’m going to have dinner with Neji and Lee. How to I look?” Tenten asks, her hands smoothing over her skirt. Her red turtleneck is tucked into the black mini skirt and she has sheer black stockings underneath, modestly covering her legs.

Tenten holds out a simple pair of black suede pumps. “I was thinking of wearing these shoes.”

“They’re perfect” Sakura laughs. “Where are you going for dinner?”

“Lin Tai Fung.”

“Fancy! I hear they have black truffle xiaolongbao. Let me know if you get them!”

黑

Lee chatters away and Neji is grateful he had the sense to take his tie off and leave it in the car. There’s a palpable tension and he probably would have felt even more strangled by the tie that his work requires. He isn’t sure if it’s a fabrication of his head because Tenten looks composed and calm, listening to Lee as he chats animatedly.

Tenten had been the last to arrive and his mouth had gone so dry he had chugged down his glass of water so quickly he had almost choked.

Does she really have to provoke him like that?

He’s sure that her attire has less to do with him than it being what she just likes wearing. However it doesn’t mean that it didn’t illicit certain thoughts about her. Thoughts that he had long since given up on.

“So when I was working at Every Fitness and I met Gai-sensei again. Remember him, Neji?”

“The teacher who tortured us every week with dodgeball and pushups?”

“You make it sound like it was a bad thing.” Tenten recalls. “Gai-sensei is over the top sometimes but at least it was fun.”

“You were good at it. Every time you’d get the ball you’d get someone out.” he muses. “You were always first pick.”

“You just didn’t like playing dodgeball.”

That wasn’t true. He just didn’t like playing dodgeball when Tenten wasn’t on his team.

Lee went on to tell him about opening a gym with Gai-sensei. Not a commercial gym, a more specialised gym tucked away just outside the city which apparently is very popular with the powerlifting crowd. Lee beams when he talks about the latest powerlift meet and all the personal bests his clients have achieved and how proud he was of them. Neji chuckles inwardly, happy that his old friend never lost his extravagant enthusiasm that endeared him to many.

Before long, their dishes had arrived. He had taken the liberty on ordering on their behalf, taking care to order their favourite dishes (or at least the dishes he remembers to be their favourites). Golden Lava buns for Tenten, Drunken Chicken for Lee as well as the traditional siumai and hargao and of course a dozen of their signature Pork and Black Truffle xiaolongbao. Pumpkin cakes and mango pudding for dessert.

“Here.” he says, placing one of the pork and truffle xiaolongbao on Tenten’s porcelain spoon as Lee tucks into the chicken. “Be careful it’s hot.”

“Thanks.” she says and for a moment he feels dazzled by the smile she flashes him. Carefully, she nibbles into the side of the dumpling (and Neji has to stop thinking about the way her lips are pursed and cradling the dumpling just so). She takes a taste of the rich broth and hums in appreciation.

“Oh that’s so good.”

He takes another gulp of his water.

“Oh yes! I wanted to let you know that your suit is ready for you to try on. So is Sasuke’s. Naruto’s isn’t ready just yet, we’re almost done. Did you want to come in altogether?”

“I can come in tomorrow if that suits you.” Neji says.

“S-sure. I can make some time for you.”

“Is this for Hinata-san’s wedding?” Lee asks.

“Yes. Actually I had meant to bring this up earlier, but Hinata wants to invite the both of you to the wedding as well.”

He had mentioned to his cousin in passing over lunch earlier this week that he was seeing Lee and Tenten. Hinata had looked rather delighted, recalling the times that Lee and Tenten were over at their large house, playing.

They usually role played. Lee was a Kung Fu master, Tenten was a pretty dancer who was also an assassin and he was an army general. They spent countless afternoons, play fighting in wars against the evil Emperor. They sometimes enlisted Hinata to play the kidnapped princess.

Hinata told him to invite both Lee and Tenten and who was he to refuse the request of the bride?

They spent a good few hours sitting around and talking, reminiscing about their younger days. Lee and Tenten also filled him in on the years that he was absent for and he could only feel an odd sense of happiness, regret and guilt.

He probably should have found a way to contact them after high school. Perhaps if he had, then he would have never gone out with his ex (because Lee and Tenten would have had his back and told him not to trust the conniving, controlling, crazy bitch). Perhaps, if he hadn’t gone out with his ex, he might have been with Tenten.

A small voice in his head asks, why not now?

And he has no answer to refute.

黑

They fight over the bill when it arrives and on his insistence he pays for the meal, refusing to let either Tenten or Lee to pay for their share, shoving his credit card at the confused waitress. He knows he’s trying to make up for lost time and it’s a poor way of compensating of years of absent friendship but it’s a start. .

Both Lee and Tenten were planning on take the train out of the city but he offers to drive them both home.

“Are you sure?” Lee asks, clearly not wanting to inconvenience his friend. “I live 45 minutes away from here.”

“It would take you an hour to get home. It’s fine.”

And that was the end of that.

Tenten and Lee chat animatedly in the car and Neji participates in the conversation when either of them address him directly. There’s an ease about them that inspires jealousy - an emotion rarely felt by him. They had been playful during dinner with each other and Neji can’t help but wonder if there was something between them.

“I was thinking, we should do something else soon. We still have so many things to catch up on!” Lee says. “There’s great weather next weekend. We could go on a hike!”

“I’m not doing the Thousand Steps hike. I almost died last time.” Tenten says, irritably.

Lee laughs. “Tenten almost slipped a few times on that hike.” he explains. “Well there are other trails we can go on. Willowbark has a great view and it’s not too far.”

“Sounds good.” he says as he pulls up in front of Tenten’s apartment. “Next weekend then?”

“Yep! Thanks for the lift, Neji.” Tenten says as she gets out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

He waits until Tenten retreats into the building before setting off towards Lee’s home.

“So it must be weird seeing us again.” Lee comments. “Especially Tenten. But it feels like old times, right?”

“Yeah.” he says, pausing for a few seconds before continuing, “Listen, I’m sorry for not keeping in contact. I should have reached out to you when I came back to Konoha.”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s like fate brought us all together again, right?”

Fate. If he hadn’t come back to Konoha. If he hadn’t taken his acquaintance’s recommendation to check out Yoshikawa & Sons for suits for the wedding. If he had been able to save just one letter of hers he might have been able to write to her (unfortunately he wasn’t able to remember her address). If he had been able to read those last few letters of hers then perhaps things may have been different. Fate hadn’t been kind to him then.  

“So you and Tenten.” he says finally, the curiosity getting the better of him.

“Hmm?”

“Are you two…?”

Lee lets out a howl of laughter. “No! I love Tenten but she’s always been like a sister to me.”

“Oh.”

“I also don't bat for the same team as you.” Lee continues, in a matter of factly manner.

“Oh.”

“Besides, even if I did, I know how you felt about her.”

Feel. Feel about her, says the small voice.

When he drops Lee off, he finds that he has a lot to think about tonight.

He lies in his bed much later, unable to sleep. Lee's revelation was so casual, tossed aside by the admission of his dear friend that he knew about his feelings for Tenten. Had it been so obvious when they were children?

Sure, he had childish innocent dreams of calling Tenten his family. But he was five. He had boldly announced that he would marry her when they grew up and they'd live in a big house together and have all the pumpkin cake they wanted because they were adults. He had also said that Lee could live with them too. When they hit their teenage years, he and Lee shot up in height. Tenten would whine that the boys had eclipsed her in height but he had noticed that she did some growing of her own. Her hips and chest became fuller and he witnessed just how much the other night. He could never forget the image of Tenten in that dress.

He could only imagine how perfectly his hands would settle on her waist and he'd trace the curve of her hips before pulling her towards him and he'd feel her chest against his. All of a sudden he feels hot despite the cooling weather and the young autumn breeze fluttering in through his open window and he peels his tee off. His mind conjures up Tenten in his mind's eye, lying next to him. Her hair is down, out of her usual twin bun hairstyle and he wants to run his hands through it to massage her scalp. He imagines her hair to be soft and she'd let out a purr so soft. He strains against his sweat pants and he knows there's a part of him that is definitely not soft.

He has to push down his pants and briefs down and feels relief as his aching cock springs free of its confines. His hand reaches to grasp his cock and he lets out a sigh of relief. He imagines Tenten's soft lips on his, and she unzips that sinful dress of hers and his balls tighten at the mere thought of Tenten stripped down to nothing but her undergarments. What would she wear? Plain cotton? Lace? Satin? He doesn't care. She'd look gorgeous in all of it. He'd worship every inch of her in kisses- his lips would move across her cheeks, forehead, nose, ears, jaw and neck. He'd move down to her collarbones and kiss his way from shoulder to shoulder. He'd spend an inordinate amount of time on her breasts before kissing her stomach and down to the junction between her thighs. He'd want to make her feel so good. So good that all she can do is hold on for the ride. He wants to feel her hands in his hair and he'd suck and lick until she begs for him to stop because it's too much for her to handle.

He gripped himself harder, the strokes becoming longer and quicker. He wants to see her above him, impaled on him. His hips would drive upwards as hers would slam down and he wonders just how she'd react to it. He wants her to have her way with him in whatever way she wants until she shatters and he'd flip her over and throw her off that blissful cliff once more.

He can feel the pressure building in his balls and the image of Tenten lying beneath him, face flushed red, skin slick with sweat and her hair fanned on the pillow is too much and he explodes. He grunts her name into the darkness of his bedroom, wishing she were here.

[lillianfromaccounting]

Call Me Maybe

author: lillianfromaccounting characters: some cute guy named chris (who happens to look like evans) (au!chris if you will) x female reader, other characters word count: 1,467 warnings: none, fluff, talk of food

Summary: You’re recovering from a bad break up and your bff suggests an unconventional way to get over your funk.

A/N: The song is stuck in my head (thanks Sing). I don’t know what this fic is even.

Call Me Maybe

“This is stupid,” you said, taking the shiny penny from your bff Betty.

“It’s fun! C’mon, you gotta believe the cosmos have something bigger in mind for you,” she said. “Throw away the bad juju, and conjure up an image of...the perfect man.” She slowly swiped her hand out in front of you, as if the motion would unveil glitter and rainbows and a magical man behind the wishing fountain.

You laughed at her ridiculous gesture, but appreciated that she was doing this to make you feel better. “Ok,” you agreed. “I’m only doing this for you.” You closed your eyes, turned around, and threw the penny over your shoulder. You quickly turned around to see where it landed--

I threw a wish in the well. Don't ask me I'll never tell. I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way.

“OW!” a guy on the other side of the fountain yelled. “What the--?!” His hand rubbed the back of his head, which was where your penny had ricocheted off of before plopping into the fountain. He turned around and your eyes immediately locked.

Your hands flew to your mouth. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry.” You tried not to laugh, because injuring other people were no laughing matter, but you couldn’t help the smile forming across your face. The penny managed to land on the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life. Why the fuck was he shirtless in the middle of the mall?

“Hey Chris, we just need two more shots. Our shifts start in half an hour and if we don’t get back to our stations soon, Gordon’s gonna have our heads,” another guy on the other side of the fountain said.

“Oh, I think they’re taking pictures for that charity calendar dealie,” Betty said. “Remember, for that chef who was in that terrible accident?”

Betty’s words barely registered. You couldn’t take your eyes off this Chris fellow.

I'd trade my soul for a wish. Pennies and dimes for a kiss. I wasn't looking for this but now you're in my way. Your stare was holding, ripped jeans, skin was showin'. Hot night, wind was blowin', where you think you're going baby?

“CHRIS! Today, buddy!” his friend called out again.

“We should probably get going,” you nudged Betty down one of the vast corridors of the mall, towards the Godiva store where you worked. Betty worked at the GameStop across the way.

“Those guys looked familiar,” she said.

“Probably just mall rats,” you said. “C’mon, our break is almost over.”

Chris and his buddy, Mike, slid back into the kitchen of Gordon Ramsay’s newest chic gastropub meets suburbia fixture in the mall.

“Get to your stations! Dinner service starts in an hour! You better have those potatoes prepped!” Chef Ramsay yelled across the kitchen.

“Yes, chef!” both guys replied as they washed up and prepped their areas.

“Did you see that girl at the fountain?” Chris asked.

“Godiva girl? Yeah, how could I miss her? You were practically drooling,” Mike teased. “You gonna ask her out yet?”

“Naw, I think she’s got a boyfriend,” Chris replied, shaking his head. He put out several aluminum bowls on the counter and started measuring out spices.

“I heard from Tom at the bookstore, who heard from Robbie at Brooks Brothers, who heard from Bas at the theater, who’s seeing Betty at GameStop that they just broke up,” Mike offered.

“What?! That’s...you think? You trust those sources?” Chris asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Mike shrugged.

“Hey, you wanna go grab dinner tonight?” Betty asked while you cleaned off the counters. “Drinks? The new Gordon Ramsay restaurant is having a soft opening. I think there might be free drinks for mall employees.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. It sounded better than going home and staring at your walls.

You and Betty got to the restaurant just as a crowd was forming.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any tables right now,” the hostess said. “We could seat you at the back bar if you want.”

You took a quick glance into the restaurant and saw that the bar looked into the open kitchen. It was probably the closest thing you would ever get to sitting at a chef’s table, so you nodded.

After ordering your drinks and appetizers, you and Betty marveled at the decor and how busy the kitchen was. There were about a dozen people buzzing back there at any given time, and every now and then, you heard Gordon Ramsay barking something or other to the staff.

You watched the chef at the salad station, which was closest to you. Having a front row seat made you feel like you were a judge on Top Chef or one of the cooking shows. It was interesting to see how they had all the ingredients stored in square plastic containers and how this particular chef plated his salads. You had expected the dressing to be pre-mixed, but it looked like he was making it to order. As he was slicing the jalapenos, he stopped suddenly and walked away, cursing under his breath.

“Chris! I need you to take over my station,” the chef yelled. “I got pepper in my eyes.”

It was still early in the night and there weren’t too many dessert orders yet, so Chris wiped his station down and went over to cover salads. He finished plating the salad that Nick was working on and checked the order slip before placing it in front of Betty.

“Summer sal---ad,” Chris said as he caught your eyes. “Hey,” he greeted with a smile.

You returned the smile and nodded, taking a sip of your martini.

“Is that the guy from earlier?” Betty whispered.

“I think so,” you turned your head to reply, trying not to be obvious.

“Oh, that’s why he looked familiar. He works here,” she said. “I think Bas is friends with them.”

“Where is Bas tonight anyway?” you asked Betty, but turned your attention back to Chris in the kitchen.

“He has a mid-term tomorrow, so he’s studying,” Betty replied. “You should try this. The dressing is amazing.”

Chris was churning out salads at a quick pace. He wore a smirk on his face as he flipped bottles in the air before catching them to squeeze some sauce or other onto the plate. He was definitely putting a show on for you and Betty, bouncing back and forth between stations. He sure put a lot of flare into seasoning dishes. At one point, a familiar song came on and he sang and bopped along to it, making you chuckle.

Every so often, he’d sneak a glance at you and you’d look away, only to try to sneak a glance back at him.

The food was better than you had expected and the drinks were even better. You were glad Betty dragged you out. At the end of your meal, Chris placed two plates of desserts in front of you and Betty.

You looked at him confused, as you guys didn’t order any dessert.

“On the house,” he said. “They’re--uh, my recipes, so uh--let me know what you think.”

“Did he just wink at you?” Betty asked, reaching over for the chocolate cake. “This one smells like coconut, so all yours.” She slid the other plate over to you.

Your eyes closed when a spoonful of the coconut jelly thing touched your tongue. The mango and yuzu flavors were bold but not too sweet. It wasn’t too rich like most desserts, which was refreshing. You opened your eyes to catch Chris staring at you from the dessert station in the back of the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile and gave him a thumbs up.

Chris tried to focus on his orders but he kept wanting to look back at you at the counter. Your meal was over and one of the waiters just handed you the tab. Chris placed three orders of the coconut panna cotta onto the counter and rang the bell to signal that they were ready. When he returned to the dessert station, you and your friend were gone. He was a little disappointed he never got your name, but hoped that you would visit the restaurant again.

“I think this is for you,” one of the waiters handed Chris a napkin. On it was your name, number, and a note. He smiled at the way you wrote your Ys, how you hooked the bottom part of the letter. He tucked the napkin into his back pocket and counted down the hours when his shifted ended so he could text you.

Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe.

[brishu]

Everybody’s Heart’s in the Same Fucking Place

My shift at the Park Slope Food Coop is usually the first Saturday of the month (A Week). I am the squad leader for the 8:30 PM Food Processing shift and, for the past 9 years, I have amassed a spotless record of showing up drunk. Sometimes I wonder if a non-shift encounter with any of my squadmates would make them think, “There’s something different about you right now.” Under my drunken helm, nobody’s cut themselves on a cheese slicer or box cutter or tape roll blade. And for the most part nobody’s emerged from the coop’s basement after two and a half hours getting bossed around by a booze-soaked contrarian nursing any grievous emotional injuries. Actually, more often than not, somebody doing a make-up or holding up their end of a shift swap enjoys their time so much that they try to join our squad. 

But this is the Park Slope Food Coop and the self-righteousness is as abundant as the kale. I am not the first grump to notice that some people base their most cherished beliefs on whose approval they gain. Why would you want to brutalize the planet to access natural gas when you can oppose it and feel like you’re marching right alongside Mark Ruffalo? Would you rather your foreign policy views align with the sneering, bomb-happy conservatism of Norman Podhoretz or the serene brilliance of Noam Chomsky? These are obtuse dichotomies, to be sure. So here’s a specific one: I am skeptical of the gun control movement. Less than 10 minutes of research can tell anybody who wants to know that more than 1 million AR-15s get sold each year. For those who might stagger in horror at a number that high, I’d ask you to take a moment and consider some other information that sales figure connotes. Personally, I’m extremely reluctant to demonize that many people I don’t know. Setting aside the implicit interpersonal dynamics lecture and moving from cursory research to wonkier statistics, we can learn that mass shootings account for less than 1% of gun deaths in a given year. In 2017, 39,773 people were killed by guns in America. 23,854 or 60% were suicides, and of the 14,542 or 37% that were homicides, 117 fatalities fit the legal definition of “mass shooting.” If this sounds like I’m trying to minimize the horror inspired by mass shootings in America, it’s because I am. Does this mean I side with gun owners over victims of these atrocities? No, it does not. It means I reject the notion that those are the two sides pitted against each other. And I will assert that fear of losing a loved one in a mass shooting is about as mathematically sound as treating a lottery ticket like a reliable path to wealth. But there’s actual likelihood, and then there’s media-spurred terror. So I’m not exactly raring to see a penstroke turn several million law-abiding citizens into criminals just because an incident I heard about in the news upset me.

Anyway, I only mention this because one time a young guy doing a make-up on my Food Processing shift started lecturing me about the correlation between Scandinavian rights to bear arms (according to him, they have none) and the number of gun-related deaths they suffer there. And yes alcohol was a factor but I got really pissed off at this guy. In retrospect, I should have been patient and respectful as he regurgitated his boilerplate arguments. But I guess I was too busy getting rankled by his presumption that only cretins unworthy of respect could harbor views as indifferent to human suffering as mine, instead of thinking, “Hmm, this guy seems pretty smart and he’s rocking a terrific playlist and everyone on his squad seems to like him a lot so maybe there’s more to his viewpoint than my kneejerk assumptions have led me to believe.” So I unleashed a bunch of other data and upbraided him for being so obtuse that he presumed my suspicions about anti-gun rhetoric amounted to my being a MAGA-head. The basement got tense and I apologized for making things awkward for everyone and changed subjects to talk about movies (whereupon our anti-gun crusading dried mango bagger announced that he was boycotting Miramax’s ouevre. Good for him.). 

For years, our shift occurred the night before the Superbowl and the night before the Oscars and we worked hard to stock the shelves upstairs with enough cheeses, olives, nuts, dried fruits, teas and spices to sate the frenzied consumption that is de rigueur on these particular Sundays. Eventually, A-Week Saturday rotated away and it was up to some other squad to work like Santa’s unpaid elves to meet the demands on Pepper Jack and Brie. But somehow our shift remains on the one Saturday night when I refuse to exert myself (or get shitfaced): Marathon Eve. 

So last year I swapped shifts with someone who liked our squad so much that she joined. My policy is that as long as you show up with some regularity, you’re welcomed warmly on our shift. We care about each other’s families and careers, opinions on matters political and artistic, and general well-being. This is less some sort of management strategy enacted to optimize productivity than a simple extension of the good will I feel toward nearly all people and certainly all Food Processors (even the Pulp Fiction boycotter who pronounces Weinstein incorrectly). Now. At our shift in August, the subject of the coop’s long, tortured debate on carrying Israeli products came up. I love this subject, even though I disagree with almost every other view anybody has on it. I don’t agree with ardent supporters of Boycott, Divestments and Sanctions, and I certainly don’t agree with the ultra-orthodox Jews who consider all criticism of Israel tantamount to Naziism.

My first exposure to this debate was at a General Meeting in the summer of 2012. The meeting was held in the ballroom of Congregation Beth Elohim, of which we are members. People I expected to shoot down anything anti-Israel (because they looked like elderly Jews) stood up passionately decrying coop complicity in Israeli policies they already unwillingly supported by paying taxes. And then some younger people with tattoos and gender fluidity vibes stood up in defense of selling Israeli products. The debate was passionate but civil. I found all arguments convincing and simply loved being in a room among people who cared so deeply about doing the right thing. Ultimately the boycotters advanced their initiative one more rung along the coop’s bureaucracy, and the next General Meeting would include a vote on whether to have a coop-wide referendum to BDS or not to BDS. 

This meeting got so much publicity that the coop needed to rent a larger space, so 1,600 or 10% of all Park Slope Food Coop members filed into the auditorium at Brooklyn Tech. BDS advocates who were not coop members stood outside leafleting attendees, while school buses ferried several minyanim of ultra-orthodox Jews. Unlike this meeting’s predecessor, the tone was not civil and the arguments were not convincing. They were hystrionic pleas that transparently appealed to each speaker’s own moral vanity. Lost in the debate was any consideration for practical details like how much it would cost to stage a coop-wide referendum, or have the BDSers found alternative, morally acceptable sources for vegan marshmallows? And meanwhile, it became very clear, very quickly that the measure to hold a referendum was going to get voted down. So the series of speakers dabbling in petty-demagoguery was a depressing waste of time. 

Two months later, at a meeting I did not attend, the issue came up again, and aroused such anger that a physical altercation occurred. After that, the subject was banned from future General Meetings. While appreciating the moral passion on all sides, my personal view was that people who wanted to boycott should, but they had to acknowledge that other coop members wanted to buy these supposedly blood-soaked products and depriving them of that right felt like some kind of tyranny too. 

Anyway, the tortured history of the debate comes up every now and then and I always love hearing what other people think, and also amplifying my own view that the passions that made the debate inflammatory are part of what makes the coop so special to me. So during our August shift, the woman who had swapped with me on the first Saturday of November, 2018, said with no compunction whatsoever that Israel was guilty of genocide. And despite my inebriation (that night I had done most of my drinking at a dear friend’s surprise 60th birthday party), I was able to express disagreement with this term, and assurance that, whereas many people would hear that and go through a series of internal reactions that would result in antipathy toward the issuer of such a serious charge, I understood that her beliefs were motivated by a desire to do the right thing, whatever that may be. Now she may have thought that I was just another Jew defending the indefensible. And I may have thought she was just another self-righteous ignoramus who prizes wokeness over common sense. But speaking for myself, nobody’s just another anything. In my consumption of online commentary, I see a lot of “[that] tells you all you need to know about her.” And it amazes me that this is an acceptable way to rest your personal case against a person who is always more complex, and usually well-meaning, than you presume when you decide that one view, or one errant phrase is a full representation of another person’s soul. That the practice of basing a holistic view of another person on one political position is so blithely unexamined suggests to me that anxieties underlying our need to close our minds are the real problem. 

I got annoyed with my fellow squad member. In truth I’m still kind of annoyed, both with her, and with the consortium of opinion that sent her forth believing that accusing Israel of genocide is the right thing to do. And it would be more comfortable for me to let my annoyance snowball into full-blown contempt (spurred at some level by the same anxieties which lead to over-eager mind-closing), to tie her incorrect view of my people’s national homeland to the neuroses her parenting has visited on her daughter, even to her insufficient appreciation of my marathon running, all of which are trumped up charges to be sure. Plenty of people would do exactly this, with no real consequence. They’d condemn this person because her version of doing the right thing is in opposition to theirs. Where is the conscience that holds condemnation at bay? 

Either way, while I feel alright about being able to see the light in this person despite my ethyl-clouded mindframe augmenting the shadows cast by her risible political views, I still struggle to find the balance between advancing views I know to be correct with being more of a conduit than a catalyst. And it also feels unfair that I agonize over this stuff only to see significantly less introspective people exert greater influence. But none of that will stop me from getting rip-roaring drunk before my next coop shift.

[crimeshowtrash]

Attraction

Spencer Reid x Reader

For anon who requested - “ I loved the perfect two and if you would make another one with insecure/nervous reid crushing on reader with whatever other things that you want i would read the hell out of that, I just really enjoy those first stages of falling in love yknow”

Spencer POV

It had been over a year since Y/N had joined the BAU. As hard as I tried I could not for the life of me get her out of mind. I couldn’t read with her lingering in my mind constantly. I would start reading a book but when I saw the words “man goes…”, my mind couldn’t help but wander to mangoes which happened to be Y/N’s favorite fruit. I would go to the coffee shop a block away from my apartment and my eyes would wander to the words “bagel” because they were her favorite breakfast food. She was the one thought that got me through jail. This unattainable woman’s likes and dislikes were etched into my mind and for one of the first times in my life, I hated my eidetic memory.

3rd person POV

Spencer Reid had never been the most confident person in the world, especially when it came to women. He had no clue how to even begin to comprehend his feelings towards Y/N. She was a fellow Doctor of the BAU. After Alex Blake had left she became the new resident linguist. She fit in with the team easily. Penelope adored Y/N for her obsession with colorful pens and highlighters. JJ embraced how Y/N would, regardless of how often JJ told her not to, constantly spoil Henry and Michael. Derek enjoyed Y/N’s love for working out and they often hit the gym together. Rossi gleefully accepted another member at the BAU who carried his love for cooking. Hotch appreciated how Y/N was the team’s resident therapist. She would come over regardless of what hour of the day it was to talk to someone who needed it. She helped the team talk through their feelings which helped everyone put their best foot forward every day. And Spencer, he just loved Y/N. She was there for him on odd nights where nightmares of Hankle would plague him. She was there when he found out his mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She was even there when he simply couldn’t get out of bed due to being petrified from the vivid nightmares that brought him back to prison. Y/N was everything to him and he thought he was nothing to her.

While Spencer had been in jail, all he could do was think of Y/N. He thought about the fruity smell of her shampoo. He thought about the floral scent of her perfume. He couldn’t stop thinking about those long nights where he would lay down with his head in her lap. She would comb through his hair while reading a book of his choosing. Although often times he chose her favorite books, simply to see Y/N smile.

Spencer never realized that while he dreamed of her she also pined after him. To Y/N, Spencer was the ultimate man. He was kind, caring, intelligent, loving, and selfless. He was the best human being that Y/N had met. To Y/N, Spencer was a hot cup of tea on a rainy evening. A bubble bath after a cruddy day.

One night, after a pretty horrid child abduction case, Spencer and Y/N were performing their night routine. They were both over at his place and drinking some coffee in a peaceful silence.

Spencer looked over at Y/N. She was wearing her glasses and her hair was in a messy bun. She only had on a massively oversized sweatshirt teasing Spencer with her toned legs. Y/N’s foot fell asleep and as she went to move it she accidentally kicked Spencer causing his coffee to spill on his shirt.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Spence” said Y/N before rushing to his kitchen to grab a towel.

On her way back she saw that Spencer had taken off his shirt and she just gaped at him. She knew that he worked out every now and then but she was in awe of how muscular he was. His defined biceps and back muscles tempting her. She handed Spencer the towel before continuing to gape at him, this time at his abdominal muscles.

“Y/N, what are you looking at?” asked Spencer.

“Uh, nothing. I was just um upset about spilling your coffee” mumbled out Y/N.

“Wait, Y/N. Were you looking at me?” questioned Spencer with a grin plastering his face.

“No. I definitely was not” spitted out Y/N.

“Come on Y/N, don’t lie to me. I’m a certified genius” said Spencer grinning.

“Well, it’s not my fault. You’re fucking gorgeous!” exclaimed Y/N.

“Wait, you’re attracted to me?” asked Spencer.

“So what? You’re attracted to me!” defended Y/N.

“Wha- How. How did you know?” stuttered out Spencer.

“It was obvious Spencer. You would smell me when we hugged. You actually hugged me. You would come up with excuses to see me. I just wanted you to build up the courage to tell me yourself. You’re so amazing and I wanted you to see how amazing you are” said Y/N, before leaning up to press a chaste kiss against Spencer’s lips. She looked up at Spencer who had a broad smile on his lips.

Spencer, gaining the confidence he hadn’t realized he needed, grabbed Y/N’s face, pulling her closer with his other arm. He leaned down while his fingers combed through the hair falling out of her bun. He gently pressed his lips down to her coffee stained lips. Y/N eagerly responded allowing his lips to caress hers. Out of breath, the two separated before wasting away the evening with chaste kisses, occasional cuddling, and intimate conversation.

A/N I am so busy with finals and a shit ton of papers coming up! I hope you guys enjoy this and I’ll try to get up my other request this coming week! I love you guys and hope you enjoy!