#I took liberties with the story to make the joke work better

[polyamorousmood]

[discussing partners]: yeah they get me so many gifts! Haha, sometimes I can't eat the candy quick enough boomer boss: singular "they" is incorrect. I try to be respectful but it just hurts my brain. It was drilled into me in school My polyam ass: yes! Singular they! That is what I was using just now.

[unlosts]

Late Spring

Summary: In an Italian restaurant somewhere in Nebraska you and the BAU decompress after non stop cases. And like a magic trick SSA Aaron Hotchner goes back to being Aaron

Word count: 1.8k

After a serial arsonist in North Hempstead, New York; a serial killer in Chandler, Arizona and an amber alert taking you to Lincoln, Nebraska back to back the entire team was running on fumes. Actually fumes were what you were running after the second week, right now it was just coffee and the thought of eventually getting to sleep in your own beds.

It’s not easy being in close quarters with the same group of people for so long, especially when you’ve had to share bedrooms for most of it. First a week with JJ, then three days with Emily and even one night with Spence after both Derek and Rossi refused to bunk with him citing intense sleep talking - which was, in fact, confirmed by you.

Eventually all the rooms started to blur together in your head, from the ugly pink explosion that was the bed and breakfast (which by the way had none), to the motel 6 in Nebraska that seemed straight out of a horror story, complete with an extremely creepy caretaker. Or future unsub Mike as Emily dubbed him.

Tonight was the last night before you could get home and you guys were celebrating big time, which at your current combined energy level meant an actual sit down meal where you didn’t have to look at a dismembered torso while trying to keep down some soggy fries and an under cooked burger.

You all ate in relative silence, brains too fried to talk about anything anymore, the rundown “italian” restaurant - yes Italian in air quotes just like Rossi insisted on doing every time he mentioned the place. The buzzing of the fluorescent light and the scraping of cutlery against plates being the only backdrop to your collective exhaustion.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that, finally, after close to three weeks Hotch could ditch the BAU Unit Chief SSA Hotchner and for once just be Aaron. And oh how you missed Aaron.

Despite having spent the better part of each day right next to him it felt like the chasm between you was larger than ever. It was what you had both agreed to; at work pretend like he’s just your unit chief and you’re just the media liaison. No room sharing, no public displays of affection.

Sometimes the affection bleed through the contours of professionalism he insisted on keeping well defined. Something as simple as him pressing his big palm in the middle of your back right between your shoulder blades as you spoke to him; heads a smidge closer together than strictly necessary.

Right now, though, he was just Aaron. Your Aaron. Sitting right next to you, chairs pushed together. Shirt sleeves rolled over his forearms, tie discarded in the hotel room along with his jacket and the last vestiges of whatever sense of professionalism he was still clinging to. His arm around the back of your chair as you leaned into it, head tilted back looking at him as he drank a beer.

He looks back at you and gives you a brief smile, the fondness in his eyes lingering, leg nudging yours underneath the table.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” He says. “Me? Are you kidding?” You yawned “Send us off to the next case I’m ready” Although it wasn’t the cold the sleepiness was making the air conditioned room feel ten times colder so you shivered and took the liberty to lean even closer to him. His hand went to rub your arm trying to warm you back up.

“Do not” Derek chimed in “even joke about that, pretty boy said the same thing after Lincoln and look at us now”

“Yeah, look at us now, in Lincoln” Said Emily with a straight face before drowning the remainder of her beer and snatching JJs before she could realize what had happened.

“I’m too tired for this, you know what I meant.”

“mhhh, sooryy” You replied, not looking very sorry as you closed your eyes and rested your head on the crook of Aarons neck. Breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and him, more present than ever after day three in the Nebraska summer. His hand is still trailing a path up and down your side, wrinkling your already very wrinkled green shirt and lulling you to sleep.

You felt Aarons lips nudge your temple talking to your in low gentle tones, his breath tickling the baby hairs in your forehead “Do no fall asleep on me or I’ll have to carry you back to the hotel”

“And you’re afraid that if people saw I would lose all of my hard earned Lincoln Nebraska street cred?”

He huffed a laugh before planting a whisper of a kiss on your temple “No, I’m afraid I’m going to throw my back and then you’ll be stuck taking care of me for two weeks”

“If it gets you to rest for two entire weeks I might just consider it”

“Jack would probably help”

“It’s good that you know us so well, and besides I saw you yesterday you still got it” You smiled against his neck remembering the brief but very interesting fight against the unsub before he could be apprehended. “Remind me to ask Penny if she has a copy of the surveillance tape, I’m planning on making the showing it at your birthday dinner next year”

“Look forward to it”

Suddenly you felt a small object hit your chest, looking down to see a crumpled napkin on your lap.

“Can you please get a room? This is the first decent meal I’ve had in weeks and I would hate to throw it back up” Said Emily with a mocking smile, her pearly white teeth contrasting with her faded, barely there plum lipstick.

“I’ve been trying to find a room for days now but none of you know how to cooperate” You reply with a huff.

“Saying please repeatedly until I tell you to shut up is not a good persuasion strategy” Said JJ frowning after getting her beer back from Emily and realizing it was almost empty.

“I don’t see why not, it’s never failed before” You said with a smug smile.

“Besides if we suffer, you suffer” Derek interjects.

“Aww just like a real family”

After a couple of minutes Spencer piped up next to Derek “I would have traded rooms with you”

“Don’t encourage her” Said JJ in her patented and perfected disgruntled mom voice

“I’m going to keep this in mind next time you ask us to babysit Henry so you can have alone time, Jareau”

“Okay, okay” Emily interrupted “Let’s all change subjects, the last thing I want is to talk more about Hotch’s sex life; no offense but in order for this to work I have to think of you like a Ken Doll”

You let out a startled laugh, properly awake now “oh I can assure you my friend-”

“Okay, that’s enough” Said Hotch trying to invoke his authoritative former prosecutor, current FBI unit chief voice. Which was, of course, completely useless when he was blushing so hard.

You just laughed once more, leaning over to briefly kiss his cheek in apology as your friends heckled you both.

What was meant to be a quick dinner before hitting the hay, although in this case the hay was actually a very thin and lumpy hotel mattress, turned into a couple more beers. And yes there were times this week when going to sleep and waking up to Emily's snoring face made you want to quit and move to the seaside but there was truly no other group of people that could make an “Italian” dinner this fun.

Afterwards you all headed you, the brief rise in energy quickly waning at the prospect of more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Aaron held you back towards the rear of the group, his arm around you possibly the only thing keeping you upright. The dusk settling over the skyline painted the city pink and gold, you looked back at him standing next to each other on the sidewalk. His eyes a syrupy sweet caramel brown in the golden hour.

“Apparently there’s an ice cream place a couple of blocks from here, it’s supposed to be very good actually” He said looking down for a minute. It took you back to your first date, him asking to take you to a jazz bar which was more so Dave's plan than his, only to end up at a taco truck talking until three am. It amazed you then just as it did now how he could go from stern FBI agent, commanding a room without raising his voice to, well, Aaron.

You smiled up at him, the others long gone leaving you two enveloped in the last rays of sunlight.

“I’d love to, you might actually have to carry me back though, I don’t think this second wind is gonna carry me more than an hour”

“That’s alright, I heard that if I throw my back I get a couple of weeks”

“Whoever told you that was so smart”

“And beautiful”

“Can’t forget that part”

“Well I might not be able to swing two whole weeks but I did arrange to have three days off for everyone” Aaron said, hands in his pocket walking by leisurely next to you as passersby carved a path around you both, a hurried businessman bumping into your back made Hotch pull you closer still, once more enveloping your back.

“Are you serious?” At his assenting nod you couldn't help but smile “and you kept that all to yourself?”

“Mhm”

“Anything else up your sleeve Hotchner?”

“Aaron”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard the name Hotch so often these last couple of weeks I almost forgot what my actual name sounded like” He said with a small smile, but you also knew by the way he melted when you said it that he was particularly fond of how it sounded coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, anything else up your sleeve, Aaron?” You asked fondly, unable to resist any longer and stealing a quick kiss before resuming your walk.

“No, nothing else”

“Okay”

“Oh I did convince Dave to share a room with Derek tonight which would indicate that I’m on my own tonight”

“No way, did I miss an anniversary or something?” You asked looking up at him

“No, I just missed you lately”

“Me too but no one else would budge on the room thing, how did you do it?”

“It only cost me forty bucks and promising to take over both Morgans and Rossi's reports for the last case”

“Ah bribery, should have done that sooner”

“You can’t blame yourself honey, I was a prosecutor after all”

You laughed once more, giddiness dispersing your exhaustion, making you feel like you could stay up until next morning, without trouble.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, the ice cream shop just right around the corner, you drew him towards you, leaning up to kiss him slowly and unhurried. Savoring the feeling of coming home after three weeks and not being able to wait a moment more.

[takamimami]

(Angst for the 100 follower event)

Eustass Kidd having a massive argument with us over his temper and how he's too loud and then when we try and get some fresh air we accidentally fall off the ship 🙏 (The last part is a joke-- I was thinking actually like him being in denial about him being too much sometimes which causes him to say shit he did not mean to say!! And then Quincy advises us to dump his ass which we do and then we're both just sad and lonely, then the entire crew goes out drinking completely unaware of what has happened and we get drunk and end up kissing some random guy in front of Kidd and he gets angry then hate sex then apologies then reconciliation!!!)

Yes I am rather drunk whilst I am writing this.

Hello, hello, I have finally shut off my video games long enough to finish this prompt, lol! I giggled out loud when your request came in, just so you know. Additionally, I struggled to combine all three of the prompts you suggested - so I took some creative liberties and split the last two prompts between Kidd and Law. I hope that is alright :3 As promised, this is the smutty pt. 2 to THIS request - still a bit angsty but mostly hurt/comfort with some makeup sex :3 I hope I did your idea justice!!

Kidd/Law x F!Reader - NSFW - "Don't touch me!" (Kidd) and "Please, tell me you're okay." (Law)

STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞

CW: SMUT; dub-con (kidd), possessive and dom kidd vibes, hand necklace (kidd) both of them are meanies :3, spanking (law), law fucks you on his desk, kidd calls you 'princess', crew mate!reader ---word count ~1.8k each

You had managed to avoid your captain for three days, and the crew finally had enough of your moping around the ship on the fourth day when you finally docked at your new destination. They forced convinced to you to get dressed up and come into town with all of them, shoving drink after drink in your face as everyone tries to get you to let loose and enjoy your night. It works for most of the night until you get a little too drunk and end up kissing a random stranger in the middle of the bar, your captain’s eyes angrily watching the entire occurrence and storming off immediately after.

You regret the entire situation the moment you see the hurt in your captain’s eyes, and the alcohol in your veins clouds your better judgment as you take off after him, following after him and his vice-captain as they make their way back to the ship. You sober up slightly on the walk back, and as you approach the gangway you can hear your captain’s angry voice echoing into the night.

🌷

His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard it, enough to make you falter a step as you heard him arguing back and forth with Killer as you walked up onto the deck.

“I don’t give a damn how drunk she was,” he seethes, his back facing you as he continues yelling. “She’s fucking delusional if she thinks I want anything to do with a skank like her! She can go whore herself to the whole fucking island, for all I care!”

Your stomach turned at the malice in his tone, and Killer puts his arms up over his head as he sees you watching and listening from the edge of the deck. 

“Kidd,” he says soothingly, trying to calm him down, “You’re just upset. Don’t say things you’ll regret later.”

Kidd notices Killer’s gaze looking over his shoulder and he turns around to meet your bleary eyes, his own amber eyes softening as he takes in the expression on your face.

You’d already beat yourself up about the kiss on the walk back to the ship, but hearing those harsh words leave Kidd’s lips felt like a knife to your gut. The tears that burned your eyes caused you to turn your face from him, wiping them away before they could fall as Kidd moved in your direction.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out to you as he approaches. “I didn’t…”

“Cause you’re some fucking saint, right Kidd?” you retort back at him, masking the hurt you were feeling with anger nearly matching the intensity of his own moments ago.

You see his eye twitch and his lip curl at your accusation, his step faltering slightly before he continues approaching you, slowing down ever so slightly.

“Never claimed to be a saint, princess,” he growls, “But I’m not the one running around kissing strangers after telling someone they love them.”

You feel the burning in your eyes rise again, his smug tone making your lip quiver as you try to keep the angry ember burning inside of you.

“You didn’t ask me to love you, remember? Maybe I’m trying not to anymore.”

Kidd’s hand reaches out to you and yanks you towards him by your forearm, his grip rough as he leans down so his face is a mere inch from yours.

“And how is that working for you?”

You tug your arm away from his grip, and he lets you go with an evil grin, eyes ablaze as he watches you back away from him. He stalks towards you again and reaches like he’s going to grab you again, but you swat at his hand defiantly.

“Don’t touch me!”

Kidd’s hand flinches back at the tone in your voice, stopping mid-stride he stares at you intently, gauging your reaction as your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing.

After a few moments, Kidd resumes his steps, closing enough of the distance between the two of you to where you can feel his shallow breaths ghosting over your collarbone.

His smirk returns as he hears the slight hitch in your breathing, noting the twinkle of desire in your eye as he hovers over you.

“You sure you don’t want me to touch you, princess,” he croons, his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your arm as he defies your earlier command.

You shudder at the feeling, your throat going dry as his fingers send a shiver down your back. He traces his fingers up your arm and down the front of you, stopping to toy with the waistband of your skirt as he drops his eyes to where his hand is. 

“I bet that sweet little cunt of yours will tell me a different story,” he murmurs, dropping his head down and connecting his lips to your neck, placing wet kisses along your jaw as he slips his fingers down into your panties.

He hisses at the feeling of you, and you flush at just how easy it is for him to slip a finger inside of you, a feeble moan falling from your lips as he begins pumping it in and out of you. 

You’re grateful Killer had taken his leave once he felt the shift in the conversation, biting down on your lip as you try to stifle the moans Kidd is so effortlessly pulling from you. You feel your body arch into his touch as he slips in another finger, your hips bucking as he presses his thumb to your throbbing clit.

Just when you feel the pressure begin to build in your core, Kidd pulls away from you entirely, holding your angry gaze as he brings his fingers to his lips.

“Too bad you don’t want me to touch you,” he purrs, turning and walking away from your panting form. 

You snap out of the shock after he gets a few steps away, your own lip curling into a wicked grin as you call out after him.

“Maybe I’ll go have the guy at the bar touch me. His kiss was decent enough.”

Kidd’s hands are on you in an instant, pressing you down by your neck against a nearby table as he looms over you, eyes blazing.

“I fucking dare you.”

You feel the damp heat pooling in your legs as he stands between them, Kidd’s free hand tugging at his pants as he pulls out his cock and teases the head of it against your clothed cunt - pulling the fabric to the side an teasing your entrance a moment later. You both hiss at the sensation, and Kidd’s hips snap into you hastily, a strangled cry escaping your throat as he bullies himself into your warmth and immediately sets a punishing pace.

Your back scraps against the wood of the table as Kidd fucks into you, hand still holding you in place by the throat as he growls from above you. The sudden sting of his intrusion quickly melts into pleasure as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you.

“You think his cock would’ve felt as good as mine, hm? You think he would’ve been able to make you scream like I can?”

Your only reply is a throaty moan as Kidd pumps his hips into yours, your vision going blurry as the pressure in your core begins to intensify. Kidd’s hand tightens around your throat as you close your eyes, causing them to snap back open and meet his amber orbs.

“Answer me.”

You shiver as he growls out his command, his metal hand reaching down to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“No!” you shutter, the volume of your voice rising with each hard thrust of Kidd’s hips.

Kidd’s response is a grunted laugh, his pace slowing as he feels your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he commands, his slow and deliberate thrusts punctuating his words.

You roll your eyes and bark out a laugh. “Fuck you,” you grit out between your teeth.

Kidd barks a laugh back, his mocking tone riling you up even more as he presses his hips to yours. 

“Isn’t that what we're doing, princess?” A quick snap of his hips and you hear the table creak from the pressure. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself involuntarily clamp down around Kidd’s length, his hand tightening in reaction as he stops his movements altogether and ruts his hips against yours, the movement not nearly enough to satiate you. 

You whine desperately as you try to buck your hips against him, his torturous stare boring into you as he holds you still. 

“It’s yours,” you gasp out, exasperated and desperate to feel him moving inside you again. 

“Hmm?” He croons, and your cheeks flush as you meet his heated gaze.

“It’s yours,” you say louder, more conviction in your voice as you see the triumphant grin curl onto Kidd’s lips.

He pulls himself out of you, nearly leaving you completely, before slamming himself back into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he pulls you to the edge of the table and pistons in and out of you. His metal finger returns to your clit and your moans vibrate through your chest as the cord in your abdomen tightens.

“Come for me, princess,” he hums from above you, losing himself in your grip as he feels his own orgasm rear its head. 

You do as he commands, your orgasm washing over you as your eyes screw shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you feel your voice go hoarse from calling out for him. You claw at the edge of the table as Kidd rocks into you, each wave of your orgasm causing your cunt to grip him tighter and tighter as his thrusts grow slower and sloppier, finally coming to a halt after he’s spent. Your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard as soft waves rock against the ship until you slowly start to hear voices approaching in the distance - signaling the return of your crew.

Kidd wordlessly scoops you up into his arms, whisking you away to his quarters below the deck before anyone has a chance to see the two of you. Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed, leaning over you and keeping his head nuzzled in your neck as he contemplates the next thing to say to you.

“I’m sorry.”

The last two words you were expecting leave his mouth, and you feel a lump form in your throat as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“For everything.”

Your mind flashes back to the heated words you two had exchanged over the past week, the tenderness in Kidd’s voice a soothing balm over the wounds that had been opened up in the process. You bring a hand to his face and stroke the soft skin of his cheek, his face leaning into your touch as your eyes haze over with sleep.

“You can continue apologizing in the morning,” you muse, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle down into his blanket, feeling him crawl into the bed behind you and pull you towards his chest.

“Does that mean I’m not forgiven yet?”

You chuckle lightly, rolling around to face him and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Nope,” you say with a wink, smiling at him teasingly. “You’re gunna have to do better than that.”

He blinks down at you unexpectedly, your challenge settling into his mind as his devilish grin returns. He flips you onto your back and tugs at your clothes, no longer willing to let you sleep until he proves to you just how sorry he really was.

🐯

“I’m fine, Bepo,” Law growls, dismissing him with a wave of his hand as he continues further into the ship. “I don’t care what she does, she’s the last of my concerns right now.”

Bepo waddles behind him wearily as he stomps towards his office, your quiet footsteps following them from a distance as you try to muster up the courage to face Law in his current state.

“Are you sure about that… Captain?” 

You hear Bepo’s weary voice as you approach the door, your footsteps coming to a halt just outside the office. You barely hear the grumbled response from Law as your heart begins thundering in your chest, swallowing hard as you will your legs to move you forward, stopping in the doorway as your heavy eyes look across the room to your captain.

His eyes take you in, and you try to mask the weariness on your face as he finally meets your gaze. He only holds it for a moment, before a scowl curls up onto his lips and he looks away, pulling his hat from his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m gunna go…” Bepo stutters, and you glance at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him not to abandon you. But he’s gone an instant later - leaving you in an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air.

Neither of you speak for a long while, neither of you able to find the right thing to address first. 

Law huffs out a deep sigh as he collapses into his chair, resting his elbows on his desk and clawing at his hair again.

“Did you need something, Y/N?” was all he could think to say, the edge in his voice teetering on annoyance as he struggled to grapple with the chaos of emotions in his head.

You clenched your fists tighter to your sides as you struggled to breathe, words escaping you as you searched your brain for something to say that wasn’t laced with the venom you wanted to spew back at him. You wanted to scream at him - wanted to make him realize the hurt he’d caused you to feel the last few days. You supposed the kiss with a random stranger had succeeded in that partially, but now he had the audacity to be the one acting upset?

Your mind raced a mile a minute as Law sat staring at you, his brows furrowed as he watched your gaze turn from sorrowful to… angry? There was something sparking through the haze in your eyes that he couldn’t put his finger on, and he braced himself as your chest rose with a deep inhale.

But instead of a snide comment, a feeble laugh was all you could muster as you loosed the breath you held, feeling your shoulders relax as you shut your eyes and turned on your heels. 

“Y/N,” Law’s voice held a commanding tone as he called out to you, and you paused mid-stride to glance over your shoulder at him.

To your surprise he had began to rise from his seat, and as you turned to face him once more he crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping less than a foot away from you. He reaches out an arm to you and you flinch away from him, his hand dropping when he sees your reaction.

“Are you… alright?”

You huff out another laugh at the question, and you swear Law flinches at your reaction. His brows furrow in irritation momentarily before softening again, and he puffs out a sigh before speaking again.

“I… I realize I may have been a bit… harsh with you the other day,” he says through gritted teeth, as if it pained him to admit he may have been in the wrong. “And I realize that you only pushed as hard as you did because you care.” He raises a hand to the back of his head and casts his gaze around the room, avoiding eye contact as he tries to find any words to ease the pain still lingering in your expression.

Still you remained silent, sensing how every non-response sent his pulse sky rocketing. You were unsure why, but something about the way you were effortlessly able to get under his skin had a smirk threatening to curl onto your lips as he leaned closer, eyes softening even more as he reaches a hand toward your chin.

You don’t flinch away from him this time, allowing him to pull your chin closer to his with his index finger, the touch gentle as his breath tickles the side of your neck. 

“Say something,” he pleads, his voice barely more than a whisper now, “Please. Tell me you’re alright, tell me you hate me - say anything, Y/N-ya.” His voice trembles a bit as he says your name, and any smugness you had felt dissipates at the sound.

You feel your lip quiver as you try to figure out what to say - what you want to say - and the two of you remain that way for a few more heartbeats before you finally break the silence.

“You… are a real asshole when you’re angry… you know that?” You drawl, sensing Law relax a bit at the smirk you offer him for a quick moment before your lips fall back into a harsh line. 

Law huffs out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating in your chest as he leans his head down towards your ear, kicking the door shut behind him before leading you further into the office.

“Says the girl who just threw herself at a stranger after making sure I was watching her every move.”

Your back stiffened as you felt the edge of Law’s desk press into the back of your legs, papers rustling behind you from the slight disturbance you’d caused.

“I did no such thing,” you said defiantly, though your voice came out less convincing than you had wanted it to. You swallowed hard as Law pulled his head back to look at you, his eyes a shade darker than they had been a moment ago as they watch the bob of your throat. 

“Keep lying to me, and I’ll have to punish you, Y/N-ya.”

Your thighs squeezed together at the threat, and you curse whatever broken part of you causes you to melt at the sight of your captain like this - at the condescending tone in his voice.

“I’m not,” you whisper, pressing your body against his as he watches you through heavy lids, “But I’ll gladly take whatever punishment you deem necessary, Captain.”

He hisses as you reach down and palm him through his pants, his considerable length pressing against his pants painfully. He grabs your wrist to halt your movements and your eyes fly up to meet his heated glare and biting your lip as a growl escapes his lips.

“Turn around.”

The command in his voice has heat pooling in your core as you turn and bend over the edge of his desk, not caring what papers you scatter to the floor in the process. Law silently lurks behind you, running a hand over your ass tenderly before pulling the waistband of your bottoms down, exposing yourself to him. He growls again, this time rubbing the flesh of your ass harshly before lifting his hand and bringing it down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap.

“That,” he groans, and you hear him fidget with the buttons on his pants, “Is for disobeying your captain’s orders in the first place.”

Another slap to your opposite ass cheek has you crying out at the sensation, the sting of his hand immediately being soothed by his fingers as he kneads the swollen area.

“That… is for arguing with me and then avoiding me for three days.”

You wince as his hand raises again, a whine escaping his lips as he tears the underwear from your legs and pulls your back up and flush to his chest, his erection pressing between your ass cheeks as he breathes harshly along the shell of your ear.

“You’re too loud,” he groans, balling your underwear up and shoving it into your mouth as a make-shift gag. “Keep quiet or I’ll cut this punishment short.”

You nod your head as he leans you back over the desk, tracing your entrance with the tip of his cock as you bite back a moan. Law grabs your forearms and crosses them over your back, gripping both of them in one hand as he presses himself into your warmth, a muffled moan escaping your lips despite your best efforts.

“Quiet,” Law snaps, pulling himself from you and laying another smack to your ass as you feel tears begin to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is labored as he presses back into you, this time sinking into your walls completely, the stretch of him inside you causing your eyes to water further as the slight pain melts into pleasure as he sets a punishing pace as he moves in and out of you.

The sound of your skin slapping together fills the office, the sound accompanied by Law’s husky grunts and your muffled moans. You really did try to contain them, but the feeling of him moving inside you was too overwhelming for you to care about the sounds coming out of you.

Law yanks your arms back, causing your back to arch up off the desk as he leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. The new angle has you leaning back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“You never know when to shut the hell up, do you?”

Your defiant response is to let out an even louder cry as he releases the hand around your arms and wraps it around you to thumb at your clit, chasing after his own release as you tumble into your orgasm. You feel yourself clamp around him tightly as the waves of pleasure have your vision blurring, your mouth going dry as you try to cry out his name. Law hears your attempts and pulls the underwear from your mouth, his cock twitching when he’s finally able to hear his name fall from your lips. You feel his body tenses and his legs begin to shake as Law drags his cock hastily through your walls, until finally his thrusts grow sloppy and his own orgasm washes over him. Each grunt of your name sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin as he comes to a still behind you, peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses as he lifts his hand and the two of your bodies are replaced by pillows inside his office.

Back in Law’s quarters, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you needily, trying to convey all the emotions he’s wrestled with over the past few days with the action.

“Just so you know,” he says when he finally pulls away, his eyes falling to your puffy and swollen lips as he licks his own, “I do want you here. I always want you here, Y/N-ya.”

You feel your chest tighten as you think back to the heated words the two of you had exchanged days prior, letting out a small sigh of relief at the reassuring words you’d been waiting to hear. “Even if I don’t know how to shut the hell up?”

Law grins, a devilish twinkle sparkling in his eye as he dips his head back down to yours.

“Especially because of that.”

100 Follower Event Masterlist ✨come say hai :3✨

[ejzah]

A/N: Thanks so much for your lovely response to this story! It’s been a little while since I’ve really whumped Deeks. I’m trying to keep the medical and concussion/TBI parts fairly accurate, but I will take some liberties.

***

Blunt Force, Part 2

Kensi sat there for however long it took for the tears to subside and some of the immediate grief to dampen. She felt completely rung out; exhausted in a way that went beyond the physical.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, unsurprised to see a text from Callen, asking for an update. Pushing herself up with a wince, Kensi went over to the single sink, cupping handfuls of cool water over her face. A quick check in the mirror confirmed her cheeks were blotchy and her eyes red. No one would miss that she’d been crying.

With a sigh, she dried her hands and face, finally leaving the relative privacy of the restroom to find a secluded waiting room to call Callen back.

“Kensi, how’s Deeks?” Callen answered her, not wasting time on greetings.

“He’s awake.”

“Good.”

“Deeks has amnesia,” she blurted out, relieved to tell someone else.

“You’re joking,” Callen responded, and she snapped back,

“Would I make something like this up?”

“You wouldn’t,” he said carefully. “Are you sure this isn’t one of Deeks’ games though? You know he is.”

“I thought he might have been messing with me too at first, but it’s legitimate. He thinks he’s still a public defender.” She paused. “Callen, he didn’t recognize me.”

Callen paused for several seconds, then spoke in a softer, slightly uncomfortable tone. “Did the doctor give a prognosis?”

“She’s seeing him now. I mean, he’s alert and still Deeks…just from six years ago.”

“Well that’s not great,” Callen sighed after another long pause. “I need to go update Hetty.”

Kensi felt a surge of fury at both him and Callen. It was senseless; of course Hetty would need to know, but it seemed so callous with Deeks barely conscious.

“Let us know what the doctor says.”

“Right.” She started to hang up, but Callen asked,

“Hey, do you think he’d like any visitors?”

“I’ll ask, but it might be too overwhelming right now since he probably won’t remember any of you either.”

“Right. That’s going to be weird,” Callen mused. He sighed loudly enough it sent a blast of static in her ear. “Ok, let us know when you need a break.”

“I will,” Kensi said, knowing that she wouldn’t.

***

The doctor was still in with Deeks when she made it back to his floor. With nothing else to do, she grabbed a cup of coffee and sat on the bench at the end of the hall, sipping on the bitter drink. She kept going back to Callen’s mention of Hetty.

The implications of Deeks’ amnesia went so much further than just him not remembering the team. Assuming his memory loss didn’t resolve quickly, he wouldn’t be able to work with NCIS, or LAPD for that matter.

“Agent Blye?”

Her head snapped up, and she almost knocked her coffee from between her knees. She caught it at the last second, her hand shaking a little as she looked up into the kind, but vaguely concerned face of Dr. Lesley.

“Sorry. Hi. Is Deeks alright?”

“I just finished his exam. Mr. Deeks gave consent for me to go over the results with you,” she explained. “Would you like to come to one of the conference rooms with me? The chairs are more comfortable and the coffee’s better.”

“Uh, sure. But don’t you think Deeks should hear this too?” Kensi asked.

“I already filled him in. He was concerned he might not recall some of the details and figured you should know too.”

“Oh, ok.” Kensi nodded. At any other time, she would have been flattered that Deeks trusted he so quickly, but her brain had picked up on another indicator of memory loss.

She followed Dr. Lesley to a small conference room, which looked more equipped for staff meetings than patient debriefings. Dr. Lesley brought Kensi a fresh mug of coffee and a pastry from a white box before taking a seat across from Kensi.

“Alright. Based on the screenings I administered, Mr. Deeks doesn’t appear to have significant cognitive deficits aside from the amnesia,” Lesley explained.

“Amnesia seems pretty significant to me,” Kensi observed, methodically shredding her danish into minute pieces.

“It is. It would be worse though if he was showing signs of short term memory loss or trouble with executive function for example, which can be present with a traumatic brain injury and concussion. He answered all of the orientation questions correctly, aside from the date. Which makes sense since memory loss of the traumatic event is extremely common and he believes it’s 2006.”

“What about a brain bleed or swelling? I know you said the last scans didn’t show minimal damage, but could it get worse again?”

“It’s a possibility,” Dr. Lesley confirmed slowly. “I’ll order follow up tests to confirm there haven’t been any changes, but I’m not overly worried about it.”

Kensi nodded, worried enough for both of them. When had anything ever followed the normal path for their team?

When she didn’t say anything else, Lesley continued.

“I didn’t assess his overall motor function yet since Mr. Deeks said he was experiencing some dizziness and disorientation.”

“That’s not surprising,” Kensi muttered. It was more surprising that Deeks had been so alert. From her own injuries, she knew how debilitating a minor concussion could be.

“Do you have any questions? I know I just gave you a lot of information during an overwhelming time.”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…he’s my partner.” To her horror, Kensi’s eyes welled up again before she could even think of controlling her response. Looking down, she tried to force the tears back before it turned into full-on crying again.

She froze when Dr. Lesley laid a hand over hers, her touch cool, yet oddly comforting.

“It’s alright to not be ok,” she told Kensi. “You’re probably used to being strong all the time, but you don’t have to do this alone. Marty’s in the very best of hands right now.”

“Thank you,” Kensi whispered. “I appreciate that.”

“Of course.” With a final squeeze of her hand, Dr. Lesley retreated, gathering up Deeks’ file.

“Can I see Deeks now?”

“Yes, but I should warn you that he was pretty exhausted by the time I finished with him. He may be sleeping or irritable. I also ordered a liquid diet for his first meal, so if you can convince him to drink some, that would be good,” Dr. Lesley said.

“I’ll try, but he’s pretty stubborn. I guess it’s part of the reason we worked together so well,” Kensi joked.

“Good. Most of my stubborn patients have something to prove. And he’ll need your support to get through this.”

Kensi smiled faintly, not overly reassured by the sentiment. She didn’t know if Deeks would want her around once he r got to know her again.

***

In contrast to earlier in the day, Deeks room was as dark as it could get, his bed lowered almost completely. He lay on his side, face buried in his pillow. She closed the door quietly in case he was sleeping, moving silently to the chair by his bed.

“Who’s there,” he muttered, making Kensi jump a little in surprise.

“It’s Kensi,” she whispered back. He turned his head, the slit of one eye visible in the dim light. “Go back to sleep.”

“Wish I could.” He sounded miserable, and as she sat down, she saw the faint lines of pain creasing his forehead. “What time is it?”

“A little after one,” she answered. “Dr. Lesley said lunch should be coming soon. Maybe there’ll be some lime jello.”

“Oh god no,” he groaned, swallowing convulsively. “I don’t even wanna think of how awful it would feel to throw up right now.”

“Is there anything I can do? Do you need more pain medication?” She’d already half-risen from her seat, but he waved her back down with a limp hand.

“I just had some. Doctor’s ordering Zofran.” He tensed suddenly, and Kensi grabbed the plastic basin nearby, ready to hand it to him. Clenching his fists, he inhaled through his nose several times, his lips tightly clamped together before he finally relaxed again, his head falling back on the pillow. “God, this sucks,” he sighed.

She hated seeing him in so much pain and discomfort. Kensi didn’t know what possessed her, but before she’d fully registered the action, she’d reached out and brushed his hair back from his temple. Deeks tensed at her touch, and she started to pull back, completely embarrassed.

“Don’t stop,” he begged. “‘S only thing that doesn’t hurt right now.”

Kensi stayed frozen for a few seconds while she process the revelation that Deeks found her comforting. Slowly she slid her fingers back into his hair, carefully drawing the tips through his curls, working through the knots and tangles.

Deeks made a small sound of relief, leaning into her touch. After a few minutes, his breathing evened out as he fell asleep. She ran her knuckles across his cheek in a soft caress.

Studying his now peaceful features, she knew this was something she could and would do for him. She would be here as long as he let her. Even if he wasn’t her Deeks anymore.

***

A/N: You didn’t think I was going to let Deeks off quite that easy did you? At least he has Kensi to take care of him.

[inchidentally]

U wanna analyse this? The words kinda made me sad: https://www.planetf1.com/news/peter-windsor-oscar-piastri-negative-impact-lando-norris

oh babe that one's easy bc not only did Lando have his best season yet by a long shot, he has many many times publicly credited it to Oscar pushing him and giving him the kind of competition that he's needed. as in he's said it so many times it would take me hours to screenshot all of them. Andrea and Zak have said it too, and actually the article itself even admits it. at the very last race Lando said how much Oscar has brought and that Lando himself has learned from him.

so big shock, "planetf1" faked a headline for clicks lol.

just to get ahead of the inevitable doom and gloom that sports media posts for engagement, let me pass on what I learned while in hockey fandom:

if the headline is dramatic, it's fake and don't give it clicks and ad rev. if it's not something like "grosjean leaps through fireball" which is easily verifiable then trust me, they won't be able to back it up in the article. remember when Lando did the landolog of him and Oscar karting in Italy and how much fun they had? at the beginning, he joked that Oscar had been a "little snake" for getting there early and practicing. he literally laughed while he said it. but sure enough, headlines on sites w names like F1dotcomBizFunHorny4U had "McLaren's Norris calls teammate Piastri a snake".

negative stories get engagement and melodrama gets even more. they'll worry about fixing it to not get sued way down in the article under the tenth video ad.

if the article was cribbed/didn't get a direct interview with a named source with an actual role within a team then it's either fake or stretched beyond reality for engagement.

even quotations can get chopped to hell and misplaced to fake a story - like people seeing Pierre explain his lack of relationship with Esteban by saying that other drivers might not be close friends either and to not make assumptions. despite quotes from those other drivers that they do in fact like their teammate (Carlos actually said this about him and Charles to Esteban and Pierre on the fanstage at Vegas). if people want to go hogwild with a quote to fit their negative personal narrative then they will. sites that exist solely for ad revenue and sponsorships will do everything to draw those fans in.

if DTS ever lands on the truth it's because that storyline wasn't worth the time in post twisting it into lies. so the fact that Oscar and Lando haven't had melodrama between them and keep saying how well they work together and like each other could mean that we get some unedited actual decent content! but since the 2023 season was so boring it might mean that the editors decide to do a hatchet job and bring in the usual talking heads to fabricate a drama between them. it ultimately doesn't matter bc DTS is only good for f1blr so that we can pull stuff for memes and gifs etc. when Lando recorded his viewing of some of the seasons he spent most of it laughing.

also this isn't the 80s or 90s or even early 00s Formula 1. the drivers are expected to stay much more even keeled out of respect for their teams and even the Pierre/Esteban situation (jsyk I do know their childhood history) isn't like they're out for each other's throats. they have a solely professional relationship now and they'd both agree that being civil is much better than not having an F1 seat. drivers are also way too busy nowadays with their own sponsorships and work outside racing to sit and fester these crazy rivalries in bars and pubs - as well as the media duties for their team that are way more since Liberty Media took over.

every set of teammates will experience ups and downs and tensions but they also have every incentive to get over it and not fuck up their work environment. especially at McLaren where Andrea and Zak now take a hard line about the drivers cooperating at all times for the sake of the team, that's never going to spiral into the kind of drama that media want. Lando beating himself up this season is because he's 5 years in and dying for that win, it's his mentality and it clearly didn't stop him from snatching podiums and points anyway. does he envy Oscar's sprint win, of course!! but if he hated or even resented Oscar for that Sprint win then he wouldn't keep bringing it up on Oscar's behalf all the time. he would do like other resentful teammates have done and simply avoid talking about it at all.

tl;dr anon, for your own sake please customize your F1 media experience or it'll drive you crazy <3 and just to say, I don't look at anything but F1.com or AP news to get updates on anything and I don't pay attention to anything else.

[starilicious]

mere haath mein (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader and echo's love story from strangers to friends to lovers throughout the clone wars (a 4+1 type of story)

》 series masterlist: (please read the masterlist before continuing on!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 📍 (you are here!) | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 | part +1

click here to read on AO3

》 part 3 word count: ~2k

》 part 3 warnings: none

》 part 3 spoilers: none

》 a/n: a bit of a longer part! reader and echo meet again and reader is a lil bit confused, poor thing.

i really took some creative liberty with this chapter and it probably (definitely) does not really reflect what it's like to be fighting in a war in any manner but oh well!!!!! that's the fun of fiction, you get to make up your own world <33

hope u folks like the chapter!

३ (3)

The third time you see him, you’re back on Coruscant, and technically supposed to be on leave. You requested a few days off, much to Fives’ delight and Anakin’s dismay. (“Aw, come on Astro! Your opinion is the only one I can trust on this entire ship when it comes to engineering.” “Oh please Anakin, spare me your whining. You know just as well as I do that you’ll be perfectly fine. But I’ll miss you too.”)

Despite both being part of the 501st, Fives and Echo had very different schedules, and more often than not, Fives’ rotations lined up with yours, leaving you to suffer through his insufferable pick-up lines. You have no idea how you haven’t smacked the banthashit out of him yet. (Fives’ knowing smile always ends up stopping you)

In all seriousness though, he had been pestering you to take a break from your work after quickly seeing the toll it began to take on you. The responsibilities kept piling up and more and more often, you were sacrificing sleep in order to continue making improvements, even despite having your team’s help. In your mind, time couldn’t be wasted when good soldiers were losing their lives, and you would be damned if you didn’t take every opportunity to make sure they lived another day.

But Fives eventually wore you down. (You have a sneaking suspicion he was relaying everything to Echo who then in turn made sure Fives turned his “charm” up to the highest notch to get you to take a break.)

(It worked.)

If anything, you were shocked when you received the message that not only was your leave accepted, but you were encouraged to take a sabbatical for a few weeks.

You weren’t planning on doing so, but after Fives, Prauf, Sonia, and even Rex of all people ganged up on you, you didn’t think you had a choice.

Even now, you’re still not sure what to make of it. Granted, the extra time means you can reach out to family and dust off former projects, but you kind of miss the hustle and bustle of your job. It simply isn’t the same without your friends always nagging you and cracking jokes. You would never tell Fives, but you even miss his terribly endearing flirting.

After the glamour of the sabbatical wore off, you decided to dive headlong into the numerous ideas collected in your engineering notebook over the years. It’s an old gift given to you by your parents, made out of paper and bound by string, encased in a decorated hard-shell cover to protect the inside. Such rarities are difficult to come by these days since datapads are so prevalent, but you always liked the smooth glide of an inkpen against scratchy paper better.

You turn to a new, precious page and meticulously begin fleshing out a prototype. Each line is drawn precisely, every mark exact. As you design, you keep a datapad open with the list of items you need to get. You have a makerspace where you can engineer to your heart’s desire, but there are some select objects you require you doubt you’ll be able to find in the marketplace.

So you head for the makerspace in the engineering garage in the basement of the Senate building on Coruscant. Your office is still there, and you still have your holoid with you–you’ll be in and out in no time.

Or so you thought.

“Astro! It’s good to see you,” a voice calls out. You turn around to find both Ahsoka and Padme side by side, R2-D2 trailing behind Padme’s lovely gown.

“Padme! Ahsoka! I haven’t seen you both in so long,” you greet kindly, eyes curving into crescent moons. R2-D2 beeps indignantly as they stop in front of you and you laugh, bending down to pet the droid’s head affectionately.

“And hello to you too, R2. Anakin making sure that capacitor is working smoothly?” R2 whumps and warbles and you nod in satisfaction.

“For once, he’s actually taking my advice.”

All of you laugh, knowing just how headstrong Anakin is when it comes to technology–or anything, really.

“Why are you here? I thought you were taking some time off?” Ahsoka pipes up, her confusion as clear as day. You shrug in slight embarrassment at getting caught so quickly.

“I wanted to pick up a few things from my office downstairs. Thought I could do something useful to help the war effort even though I’m not here,” you explain and Padme raises an eyebrow.

“Astro, I believe the point of taking leave is to not do work?” she points out and you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Yes, well, this...this is more of a personal project than a work project. I like to keep busy,” you say, hands gripping your bag tightly.

Ahsoka opens her mouth to speak, but Padme places a hand on the Padawan’s shoulder. “In that case, we won’t stop you. But please do take some time for yourself, hm? And you’re always free to stop by anytime,” she says instead, and you nod in agreement, not sure what else to say.

“Take care Astro! See you later!” Ahsoka fills the silence as the three of them begin walking away and you wave back in response.

Once they turn the corner, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, too focused on not slipping up in the conversation. At least that’s over.

You make your way to the makerspace swiftly, not keen on meeting anyone else. You love your friends, but you doubt you can handle any more guilt-tripping. Besides, you’re still taking a break–you don’t really see what the problem is here.

The sharp scent of oil and grease fills your nostrils as you step into the engineering garage, saws and cutters whirring throughout the spacious area. Lights spark here and there and you relax, feeling at home. Before you can make it any farther, your best friend seemingly materializes out of nowhere.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home,” Prauf exclaims, already trying to push you back out the door. You roll your eyes as you easily duck under his outstretched arm.

“I am, I am! I just came by to pick up a few things–please, for the love of the Maker above, do not tell Sonia. She’s going to rip me apart to shreds if she finds out,” you please, clasping your hands in front of you as Prauf folds his arms over his chest.

He relents, though, sighing out your name in resignation, and you whoop in joy.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say as you throw your arms around him and he pats your back gently.

“Yeah, yeah, you owe me,” Prauf agrees. “You should use your time to go on a date with your boyfriend though.”

He darts away back to his work before you can smack his forearm in retaliation because you do not have a boyfriend, thank you very much. Your heart beats faster at the thought anyway.

Instead of following him, you accept defeat retreat to your office to grab the materials you need. You end up needing a cart to tow everything back to your makerspace back home. Realizing you can’t walk back without the high chance of one of your parts being stolen, you opt for grabbing a speeder taxi up at the ship docking bay.

You make your way back upstairs, dodging busygoers this way and that before finally making it to the bay. So close…

But of course, the universe is against you when you see his telltale armor standing near a ship. Oh kriff.

You saw both Ahsoka and R2-D2 today, meaning Anakin and the 501st were probably here too. You can’t believe it didn’t connect the dots in your head sooner. For someone whose life's work is putting things together, it’s ironic you didn’t realize.

In an attempt to make sure he can’t see you, you turn at an angle and try heading for the far end of the hanger as fast as possible, pulling your hat down lower over your eyes to obscure your face.

It doesn’t work.

“Astro?” Echo’s voice calls. You close your eyes in defeat, posture softening into a sag. Damnit. But despite your reluctance at being caught, you can’t help the spark of warmth that shoots through your body at the sound of his warm acknowledgment.

“In the flesh.”

You turn around and Echo jogs up to you, a look on his face you can’t quite decipher. He gazes at you when he ends up in front of you, a small, disarming smile. It seems as if he knows something you don’t.

“Need help?” he gestures to your heavy cart and you look down, momentarily forgetting about it. You don’t comment on your surprise.

“Oh, uh–yeah. Thanks,” you say instead. You step back, but it’s not far enough. Echo bumps into you when he tries sliding into your space to take over. It knocks a breathless laugh out of him and your stomach flips. Whether it’s out of embarrassment or something else entirely, you don’t know.

“I–sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Echo waves you off nonchalantly. “Don’t apologize, happens all the time. You should have seen Fives yesterday at 79’s. Tup accidentally tripped him and he went careening straight into a commander. And boy did they give him a piece of their mind. All of us were losing it when he came back to our table,” he laughs effortlessly.

You’re suddenly jealous of how natural he is, how easily he smooths over awkward bumps and cumbersome smalltalk. Your hands curl at your sides, unsure of where to place them.

Echo guides you both across the large docking bay, filling the silence gracefully with one story after another, each as funny as the last. You stay quiet most of the time, appropriately laughing at this point and that, inserting a comment here or there. He doesn’t seem to mind though, instead building off of your reactions. It’s almost… relieving.

“And we’re here!” You’re shaken out of your reverie by the exclamation, and you look around to confirm that you indeed have arrived. Wait… how did he even know this is where I wanted to go?

You choose not to dwell too long on the thought.

Echo lets go of his grip on the cart, making space for you to push it. He waves down a driver and instructs them to load your parts into a crate to take on the back of a speeder before turning to you.

“Thanks, Echo. It was nice to see you again,” you remark, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. He smiles in acknowledgment and something about him pushes you to continue.

You hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth again. “Would… would you like to accompany me back? I’m working on a prototype and I wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands…” you trail off. The offer hangs in the air, uncertain–a lingering question.

Echo’s comm answers for him. He steps back and you feel the same urge as you felt in the cantina all those days ago to pull him back to you, pull him close to you. You stay stuck by the cart.

“As much as I would like to, duty calls,” he says apologetically, echoing your statement from when you first met him. As he walks backwards, he gives you a lazy salute accompanied with a lopsided smile.

“Until we meet again, Astro!”

And with that, he runs off, leaving you alone with the grouchy driver, mumbling about how he doesn’t get paid enough.

It’s only until you get home and unload the equipment that you realize Echo was the only one who didn’t ask why you were there.

---

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 📍 (you are here!) | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 | part +1

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[thesinglesjukebox]

KENDRICK LAMAR - "NOT LIKE US"

From “fucking Drake” to “fuck you, Drake”…

[6.73]

Katherine St. Asaph: "Meet the Grahams" was more vicious, but this has schadenfreude off the charts: one-upping "Family Matters" with something even more engineered as a crossover bop and succeeding at that crossover, thus depriving Drake of his one argument in the court of public opinion; the simultaneous coinage of many new memes dunking on Fucking Drake; the various streams of Drake stans squirming in anguish trying to suppress the urge to dance; clubs playing it almost immediately; the NBA playoff broadcasters adding it to rotation almost immediately (especially considering OKC is in them); the sheer fact that there is an enormously popular track that calls Drake a predator for his publicly predatory behavior. [10]

Will Adams: i ain't reading all that. i'm happy for u tho. or sorry that happened. [3]

Alex Clifton: “Meet the Grahams” was one of the darkest songs I have ever heard and took the Kendrick-Drake beef to an entirely new level. But while “Meet the Grahams” has more damning accusations, “Not Like Us” acts as a real sucker punch because it’s so catchy and funny. Why not beat Drake at his own game by rapping about how he sucks over a dance beat? A jab about Drake’s predilection for younger girls turned into the most quotable line of the summer—honestly a genius move. People will be yelling “it’s probably A minorrrrrrrrrrr” whenever it comes up. The rest is fun, too; the colonizer line in particular makes me snicker. The fact that it was written so quickly with such smart lyrics leaves me in awe. Do I feel good about watching all this unfold? Not exactly; if any of the accusations these men hurl at one another end up being true, I don’t think anyone “wins.” But I am a messy bitch who loves drama, and this is drama to the highest fucking degree. If it sounds this good, all the better.  [7]

Nortey Dowuona: The most seething, unflattering portrait of a theater kid raging that their talent and charm has not gained them the unflinching loyalty of their audience (and by extension their partner), and we will either have to hastily disavow this in four months/four years/tomorrow. That said, incredible, so full points! [10]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: All moral and ethical concerns aside, I celebrate this as the triumphant return of the most notable figure in West Coast rap over the past decade: DJ Mustard! And thank god for it, too — before this, the aftershocks of "Like That" were mostly caught up in boring video essay-type beats (Jack Antonoff was involved) that existed merely so that these guys didn't have to just do spoken-word poetry. (I refrain here from talking too much about "BBL Drizzy," maybe the most interesting work in all of this scuffling.) It's not just that this is a fun beat; it's a beat composed with such obvious glee that it forced Kendrick into doing his best Drakeo (RIP) impression, taunting and generating quotables like he'll never need to rap again. Even when he comes back to his senses and executes a rigorous and serious cultural critique of Drake's extractive practices with regard to the Atlanta rap ecosystem, he gets some good jokes in – if some told me that 2 Chainz had LIED when he said I was good, I would retire immediately. [8]

Jackie Powell: I compare this titular moment in music, the now very public feud between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, to a sports rivalry I follow quite closely. Kelsey Plum of the Las Vegas Aces told reporters during the 2023 WNBA Finals that her rival team, the New York Liberty, didn’t really “care about each other” in tough moments as teammates. She compared them to her Aces, a group of players who show on the internet and on television how close they are. In other words: For Plum, they (the Liberty) aren’t like us (her Aces). This rivalry was built from a couple of ideas: 1) these are the two teams with the most talent in the league, and 2) rivalries are hot-button stories that elevate and bring more eyes to the product. That second idea is where I land when it comes to our hip-hop feud at hand -- and hey, the WNBA is super in style now, so hip-hop should be honored that I’m making this comparison. Reanna Cruz remarked on "Switched On Pop" that this beef is “getting played up to get people to pay attention to rap music again.” She’s not wrong. A huge difference between these two conflicts, of course, is that Drake and Kendrick Lamar are taking cheap shots at each other that make the trauma and pain of many women public. This beef is becoming too personal, rather than just a promotional catalyst for the genre. The synth strings that accompany Lamar’s flow do make this a worthwhile listen without soaking in the numerous disses on the track, and I always enjoy when Lamar adds jazz elements. But the compelling and catchy arrangement aside, I was disappointed in the hook. Saying someone isn’t up to par is a weighted statement, and repeating the title of the track six times isn’t an innovative way to hammer that point home.  [5]

Alfred Soto: I acknowledge the anguish of many writers deploring the unfounded accusations here and in "Meet the Grahams." Exploiting the misery of the victims for the sake of a diss track is gross. Maybe Nas vs. Jay-Z spats no longer suit our times -- I grew up with them and loved them. But I'd be lying if I denied the motherfuckin' catchiness of Mustard-on-the-beat and Kendrick Lamar's arsenal of whines, repetitions, and biographical data. I also remember: art and journalism intersect but have divergent responsibilities.  [8]

Julian Axelrod: If there are any winners in the great Graham-Lamar Beef of 2024, it's the cadre of Genius-pilled rap fans who scour over every stray Kendrick line like it's holy scripture, teasing out assumed allusions and nebulous entendres. Now Kendrick's footnoting with purpose, each toss-away reference loaded with subtext about Drake's personal (and potentially criminal) misdoings. But the most shocking thing Kendrick did -- the thing that probably made Drake madder than any other slight in this saga -- was make a good old fashioned rap radio banger, the kind he hasn't attempted since SZA dropped Ctrl. And even more thrillingly, it's an obsessively reverent LA rap resurrection that nobody does better than Kendrick at his loosest and best, alternating between Drakeo yammers and E-40 yowls over a Mustard beat that sounds like congested traffic on a hot day. (What's crazier, the fact that two of Kendrick's diss tracks are produced by Mustard and Jack Antonoff? Or the fact that the likely chart-topper is produced by one Dijon McFarlane?) If anything, the diss/bop duality is a disadvantage; there's too much weight for the song to feel truly breezy, and it's hard to turn up to direct accusations of sex trafficking and pedophilia. But casual menace is the defining trait of a West Coast diss track, and it's satisfying to hear Kendrick returning to his home turf.  [7]

Hannah Jocelyn: I've seen criticisms for the mix, and anyone who's followed my blurbs during my eight years (!) writing for TSJ knows I'm all for that; believe me when I say that for once, it actually is nitpicking. All that matters for a song like this is that the vocals are intelligible but not too far above the beat. And these vocals are very intelligible, with every syllable as enunciated as Pusha T's "you are HIDING a CHILD" for three minutes straight. The verse calling Drake out for his genre-hopping is as insightful and intense as anything Kendrick’s ever written. But this is obviously most famous for the "A minorrrrr" joke, mocking both Drake's "Dave Freeeeeee" delivery on "Family Matters" and Nicki Minaj's eccentric drawn-out deliveries. (Never mind that the line isn't that strong -- it's the same pun Bo Burnham used over a decade ago.) Even as things get dark, it's an incredibly fun listen; I enjoyed the showmanship of the beef, culminating in Kendrick beating his sworn enemy at his own game. But everyone who hates what it's become is right. Do we really want jokes about these topics? If any of it is true, does that even change anything? Drake's not too famous to get caught, despite what he said; he's just too famous to face any meaningful consequences. The humiliation in "Not Like Us" might be the best we can do about alleged predators on this scale, in place of anything resembling justice. [7]

Oliver Maier: It should be valid -- encouraged, even -- to admit that Kendrick Lamar is at his most annoying when he makes chart music. We are all losers in this godforsaken beef. [2]

Taylor Alatorre: It doesn't live up to the promise contained in that heart-resuscitating DJ Mustard tag, but I don't know if any song could. The song that could live up to that DJ Mustard tag exists only in the realm of pure forms, alongside the band that could live up to the name Libertines and the album that could live up to the title ARTPOP. The actually existing "Not Like Us" lives down here in the muck with us fallen people, in a place of impermanence and unsettledness and compromise. A place where productive collaborations from a decade ago can be recast as colonial thievery in an instant; where populist pandering comes in the strategic use of the words "pedophiles" and "minor"; where sex offender registries are of dubious criminological impact; where my YouTube homepage just looks like this now; where apps are now battlefields and "post-truth" is a casus belli; where the bloodied gears of History churn on in the background, or foreground; where the Macklemore apology form exists; where in some arcane yet deeply intuitive way this all prefigures another Trump electoral victory. And yet, for all of Kendrick’s “me against the industry” posturing, only by climbing on the shoulders of its fraught context is “Not Like Us” able to claw its way into the halls of pop immortality. From "euphoria" onward, this has been the diss track as alternate reality game, roping in everyone from confused Chinese restaurant patrons to the luminaries named in Kendrick's Real Atlanta Roll Call. We bob our heads to the lines about statutory offenses not because the bars are the hardest-hitting ever, or because we particularly care about the legal fate of Baka Not Nice, but because we imagine the thousands of other people bobbing their heads at that exact moment, astounded that (or wondering whether) we're allowed to do so. Because the floodgates have been opened, Carnival is upon us, and for a few charged weeks even a beat that Stay Dangerous-era YG would have left alone can become a defining document of its time. Monoculture status: alive, in Serbia.  [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[karlkapri]

Top 5 hockey poetry posts

You're having me grade my own work?

As a general rule, my favourite edits are the ones where I tried something new & didn't think it would really work but then it DID.

Regarding the Pain of Others, Susanne Sontag This one isn't based on a poem at all. I just took a bunch of quotes I liked out of context and tried to fit them together in a way that made sense. I didn't really plan on posting it, but it turned out much better than expected so I did. The Sontag essay is awesome, but I will admit that I took Some Liberties w the text.

October, Louise Glück This was supposed to be 4 separate poems, but I discovered I had enough photos to make it into one long one. Again, didn't think it would work but it did. Probably the poem I feel most strongly about because it's the players I feel most strongly about.

Faithful and Virtuous Night, Louise Glück My first hockey poem and coincidentally a poem about the player who turned me into a hockey fan in the first place. If I could do this one again I would do it differently, but it's still cool to see how the style (& quality) of my edits has developed since this first one.

Landscape, Louise Glück Okay so now that I'm listing them out like this there really are a disproportionate nr of Glück poems.. But ok. This one was fun because I tried to tell the story of Claude both through the poem and through the journey from darkness to light (and back to darkness) in pictures. There's so many good Claude photos and edits available that I needed an additional challenge to make it worth my while.

The Mourning Star, Scott-Patrick Mitchell I like this one because I made it for a friend. There are quite a lot of high res. pictures of Bruins boys in suits, but in order to make it work for a mafia au I had to figure out a way to add in the other elements of the story. I almost went with a shot from Batman instead of the city skyline (which is London, not Boston. I cropped out st. Pauls). Started out as a joke and then it took over my entire life for a bit. I still like the poem though.

[jacobsneed]

For Cricket, Rizpah, and Skunk! 🖤

I just want to know them better okay 👉🏻👈🏻

My clipboard saved things odd and if they're in a wacky order apologies!

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

○ ○ ○

A) Why are you excited about this character?

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

H) What trait do you admire most?

aaaaaa I am screeching and flapping autistically :D No need to apologize :))

okay putting this under a read more since I'll be gushing about all these gremlins :)

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators

Cricket Rook

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

I imagine Cricket would lie to their dad, claiming they were cutting down on their smoking near daily before he died. Boy do they feel haunted by that

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Will probably ponder in their head for a bit before politely asking for clarification

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

Oh very, Cricket is the type of person to lay awake at night haunted by something cringe they may have done as a child. They hold on to their guilt a lot :(

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

Going to church with their family growing up. They loved getting together with everyone, and it was the one time they would wear a dress their Grandmother gifted them

A) Why are you excited about this character?

I was in an awful depression/ptsd spiral before I started playing and after I got into it and started creating Cricket in my head I just went full hyperfixation mode and really helped pull me out of the nasty brains :'))) so I have a big ole soft spot in my heart for Cricks

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

A little bit, it took me a few weeks to figure out what exactly their deal was, I'm still working on plotting out the lore of the Rook family at the moment :D

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

I would absolutely love to have Cricks as a bible study buddy or have them take me out shooting. I just know they would badger me to quit smoking though as they should

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Ugh, Cricket is just too damn forgiving. They should also try being more aggressive in their assertion once in a while

H) What trait do you admire most?

How even when it seems like everything is shit, and all the cards are stacked against them, Cricket still manages to maintain their faith

Rizpah Mags

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Oh lord, I see Maggie as the type to lie without even realizing it, it's just something that is so common to her. Unfortunately doesn't feel bad about it when she catches herself lying

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Will very bluntly and sternly just ask for clarification

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

Not that hard at all, just confesses her sins and believes herself to be absolved of any perceived wrong doings

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

Her first time in the bliss, or alternatively the first proper meeting between her and Cricket

A) Why are you excited about this character?

I originally made her as a joke because I wanted to make a cultist oc, but also thought it'd be funny to make an oc specifically to annoy Cricket. She kinda snowballed from that into an 'actual' character, and I'm just jazzed to write out her full lore :D

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

A bit, I took a couple artistic liberties making her little world. Mainly about inner cult workings and whatnot. I'm still doing so much work with her sdfghjkl trying so hard to not spoil anything in her story >_&lt;

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Hm, I probably wouldn't. I don't quite know why, but I just feel like we would be nowhere near the same wavelengths. I'm also not a fan of her because she's kinda mean and I'm sensitive, she would totally lightly bully me lmao

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

How easily she just shrugs off any guilt and tries to justify every morally questionable thing she does

H) What trait do you admire most?

If anything, she's incredible tenacious and self assured

Matthew "Skunk" Dennis

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

He's the type of dad that tells his daughter harmless lies all the time (the tooth fairy, easter bunny, you know the drill) he doesn't find himself haunted by these lies much at all

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

He's an utter idiot and will just kinda act like he knows what's up or what to until someone asks him just what the hell he's doing and helps him out LMAO

 How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 

I see him as being the type to hold on to guilt when he screws up, usually trying to smoke it away at first before coming to the realization that it's better to try to make amends and just going above and beyond to make it up to anyone he feels he's wronged

What memory do they revisit the most often? 

Arriving in Hope and the feeling of love he felt being accepted into the community, knowing that he found a place to set roots

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Another character started as a joke, based off a black&white mullet I had once, lmao. He's also got me super jazzed because he's kinda like an autism creature my sister and I made after binging trailer park boys a few times in a row, which was a lovely bonding experience lol

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

Not really, I figured since there is "oregano" throughout the map, someone had to have been growing, right? In my universe, he just kinda vibes in the trailer park with his daughter

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

He's definitely in my dream blunt rotation, I'll say that. I feel like out of all my fc5 characters, he's the one I would get along with the most, but I know he'd clown on me for my inability to roll a joint but would love my idiotic jokes

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

His utter recklessness, like sir please make a plan before doing something stupid. This man needs to learn to think first then act

H) What trait do you admire most?

His dedication to being a single dad and his ability to improvise

[melodylnoelle]

Wakanda Sunset

The Cards Have Spoken - Week 11 (My cards)

Here we are being a week late again because I have hit a major life roadblock... but I still hope that you enjoy this piece!

I also referenced @brightsun-and-darkmidnight​ ‘s piece called Punk from one of the earlier card draws in this one. Please give it a read for context, it’s a very lovely work!

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe   Characters: Shuri (Additional - Bucky Barnes) Category: Fluff - Picnic in the park (with park being a loose translation on this one) Timeline: Post- The Dark World (took the liberty of making it wayyyy past TDW) Setting: Wakanda Warnings/Notes: This is my first time writing Shuri in any way, so I stuck to making it so something was a little familiar. I hope this is in character enough, but if not, please let me know how I can make it better! // We are trying to keep these all to a minimum of 500 words. You can use these same cards for your own story if you like, but please tag me and @brightsun-and-darkmidnight so that we can see what you do! Please enjoy   Words:  1283 Summary: Shuri takes Bucky for a much-needed break from his goats Masterlist

           Shuri moved quickly over the uneven grass. It had been a while since she had been out of the lab to enjoy the lush land of Wakanda. She was in need of a change of pace, and this was a perfect opportunity for a certain broken white boy to get a breather, too.

           She found him as she expected to as she halted on the top of the hill – tending to his goats not far from his hut. He always seemed to be busying himself while he was here. He had told her once he felt like he owed it to them to get things done, as a thank you for removing the Winter Soldier from his mind. He worked twice as hard as most of the people in the country, only stopping to rest.

           Well, she would make sure he rested his mind extra today.

           “Good afternoon, Sargent Barnes.” She called when she thought she was close enough for him to hear.

           He shook his head, moving his gaze from off into space and turning, focusing on her. “I thought I told you to call me Bucky!”

           She smiled at the way they started all their conversations. It was a fun little quip, and she hoped he didn’t mind too much. She jogged down the hill, careful not to jostle the basket on her arm too much, and approached him before speaking again. “How are the goats today?”

           He let out a sigh, looking to them. “Well, Punk didn’t get himself hurt today, so that’s always a good start.” A half-smile crossed his face as he looked to his favorite goat, which was bouncing around all of the other ones at a break-neck pace. His eyes looked as though they were looking to something far away, and she couldn’t help but wonder what they were seeing.

           “Maybe because he has a good handler to keep him in line,” she bumped his shoulder, and waited for him to shake himself out of wherever he had just been. “I think they will be alright for the rest of the afternoon. If you keep spending all of your time with the goats, we might have to rename you the White Goat.” His head dipped with quiet laughter, and she felt her own smile widen. “You could use a break.”

           “Oh, well you don’t know Punk. He gets into trouble pretty easily.” The smile was back, at least.

           “Stop putting the weight of his choices on your shoulders for a moment,” she joked back, raising the basket on his arm. “Besides, this food is not going to eat itself.”

           He eyed it in question. “You brought food all the way out here to little old me?”

           “And for me! And I’m hungry, so come on, would you?”

           “If you’re that hungry, we could just eat here. Then I can keep an eye on-“

           “That is precisely why we are not eating here.” She insisted, pulling lightly on his arm. “Come, we are on a timeline.”

           His brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

           “You will see.” She let go of his arm and turned, sure he would follow without turning to look. Soon enough, she heard his footfalls in the grass behind her. She let her stride slow to give him time to catch up.

           She tried asking him how he was doing as they walked, but he didn’t say much. He just started talking about the work that he had done, and the goats. He was supposed to be resting more than this, and she mentally chastised him for not doing so. She didn’t want to upset him further, though, so she kept that to herself. Instead, she launched into a story about the work that she was doing in her lab. He had a fascination with technology, she had realized, and she found it enjoyable to talk to someone about her work that for once had a very interested ear. He listened intently as she spoke about the new version of the Black Panther suit she made for T’Challa, and her recent improvement to the kimoyo beads. She answered his questions, which came as many that he seemed to want answered all at once. His eyes lit up with wonder at every answer, and as she used the holographic projector on the beads to show him schematics. It was a refreshing change in him, and she smiled, satisfied that this was now going as she planned.

           It was almost an hour when they reached their destination – a grass-covered outcropping on one of the nearby mountains that overlooked much of the land in Wakanda. Hills rolled in waves of green at varying heights below, dotted with trees and splashes of color from wildflowers. Her timing had been perfect, it turned out, as the landscape was washed in the light orange of the just-setting sun, and the city in the background glinted with gold.

           She looked at Bucky as he took in the scene, eyes wide and light. His mouth fell open slightly, and he halted in his steps.

           “I know your hut gives you a great view of the sunset, but I thought you might like to see it from a different angle.”

           “It’s beautiful here.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

           “This is one of my favorite places to come to take a break from the lab.” She sat down at the edge of the outcropping, letting her feet dangle. She set the basket down next to her as she pondered the ground far below. It always amazed her, the expanse of the forest and wildlife there.

           Bucky took another moment before he joined her, his steps muffled further by the grass and weeds. He braced himself with his arm as he mimicked her movements, swinging his legs under them. Seemingly mindlessly, he kicked his feet as he tore his vision from the scene in front of him. “So, you said you were hungry?”

           “Yes, here,” she reached in, grabbing the foods that she had packed and spreading them between them where the basket had been. “I thought you might have forgotten to eat again, what with only grass to graze on around you.”

           He chuckled as he took some of the food that she offered. “Thanks.”

           “You are welcome, Sargent.”

           He dead-panned a moment before ignoring it, taking a bite of his food and looking back into the sunset.

           She followed his gaze, admiring the scenery in front of them as they ate wordlessly.

           He was the first to break the silence. “I really appreciate everything your people have done for me.”

           “It was nothing,” Shuri shrugged. “You needed the help, and we could give it.”

           “But you didn’t have to.”

           “Just as you do not have to so endlessly help with work, but you do.”

           He shook his head, his food pausing halfway to his mouth. “That’s different, I-“

           “You do not owe us that much.” Shuri met his eyes with a steeled look of her own. “You need to rest your mind more than you need to repay us. Do not make my work be for nothing by working yourself to death.”

           She let that sit for a moment as he kept staring at her. She held his gaze, waiting for him to argue.

           She was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. He just nodded and looked back out at the deeper orange of the sky. When he spoke again, it was quieter this time.

           She let him think his thoughts. She focused hers on the sunset, too, settling back into eating her food. She would take this small victory, that she had gotten him to at least try to relax for just this moment.

[polyamorousmood]

[discussing partners]: yeah they get me so many gifts! Haha, sometimes I can't eat the candy quick enough boomer boss: singular "they" is incorrect. I try to be respectful but it just hurts my brain. It was drilled into me in school My polyam ass: yes! Singular they! That is what I was using just now.

[guildtree]

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

🍐 Is there anything in canon that you absolutely hate and love to fix in fics? A wrong choice made, a fuck-up in characterization, a misunderstanding never cleared up, a conversation never shown onscreen, etc…

🍇 Is there a particular scene/episode/book/etc that you want to just write a million fics about, over and over? Which one?

🍊: I've wanted to write something with Mai Trin since Season 1 re-released, but I've just never been able to figure out the exact plot or theme to tie a story with her in it together. I also need to make something with Braham in it because he gets too much hate, the poor guy :(

🍌: The quote, “Funny, it seemed like you were thinking about a very different type of Krytan-Canthan relations" from Business and Pleasure because I got a reader comment and tell me they almost choked on their food laughing. Close seconds would be Marjory drawing pink necromancy sigils all over Taimi's lab in Left Behind, and Shirley the bone minion.

🍐: Not too much in Guild Wars 2, thankfully! I've definitely been in fandoms where fix-it fics abound *cough* warrior cats *cough* and while running off spite for a while can be fun, I've never found it personally healthy to stay in those spaces for long. If I really hated a majority of the canon, I would just leave and find something I liked better.

That being said, we all know the end of Icebrood Saga was a train wreck and a half, so if I ever write something in that era of game time, you can trust I am taking liberties with the story, characters, and especially the timeline. Smodur got character assassinated in Drizzlewood and I would either make him be clearly influenced by Jormag or simply swap his role with Malice Swordshadow (who had no character to be assassinated before and would be more Jormag's type anyways). More time devoted to the norn and Primordus please, more character development for Jhavi. I completely screw with the timeline there because it is ridiculous that the Primordus/Jormag conflicts took like 3 years of in-game time when Champions feels so short and other dragons like Zhaitan and Mordremoth took a year or less. I generally condense that conflict and add additional months to years of peace between Dragonfall -> Grothmar and Champions -> EoD instead, to give the characters more room to breathe.

I also may wind up changing either Mordremoth's or Zhaitan's pronouns to it/its or they/them for the Aurene fic? Soo-Won refers to Mordremoth as 'him' at one point, and I think Zhaitan never gets a canon gender, but something about those dragons and their domains feel so big and conceptual that it feels weird to restrict them to a binary gender? Especially with the Mordie weapons talking about how the dragon felt like sylvari were inherently part of its body, like it extends to cover everything; and then Zhaitan just being death itself. Idk dragons are such weird creatures that it feels like they should play with gender more.

🍇: Anything Kasjory during End of Dragons or later. I love their dynamic there: it feels like they finally have their relationship figured out, they're working together and supporting each other, they're finally getting their happy ending after all that pain. You've got detective stuff with the Aetherblades and political stuff with Kas's ambassador job, plus some good battle couple stuff at the end with the Void fight. I love fluff, hurt/comfort, and the occasional mystery or drama plot, so EoD was a fanfic gold mine for me.

[humanmaybe]

Just from my own cursory knowledge, the library of Alexandria contained mostly knowledgeable texts, like things which contributed to learning about the world as people knew it then. This also included religious texts and such. Like just objectively and functionally, the library and AO3 are very different things. A better argument could be made for Wikipedia being the new Alexandria in my own opinion, in terms of being a vast center for information and learning (though Wikipedia also mainly serves as a jumping off point or a summary of certain topics).

Meanwhile AO3 is filled with. Ya know. Fanfiction. I know people post original projects on there too, but it’s just kinda false to say that it is a center for *knowledge.* Entertainment, sure! But I feel like the comparison stops at “place with a lot of [thing]”

And why myths are not fanfiction? Myths are people’s religion, and I say “are” and not “were” because these religions are still practiced today. What the modern world regards as “myth” is no more provably true or false than the Christian religion/mythos or any other major religions! People telling stories of things they believe happened as foundations for their religion is not making “religious fanfiction.” It’s like, actually insulting to compare people’s beliefs to. Writing fake stories about provably fake characters.

In summary: AO3 can be important to individuals, sure, but it is not a library in any traditional sense and the texts within are like. Flat out unequivocal to what was housed in the library of Alexandria. Or any library, tbh. And “Myths” are never comparable to Fanfiction bc they are Religions and religious texts. (This is also why people talk about the commodification of specifically the Greek gods, and how people treat them as funny little characters for them to puppet around instead of literally part of a whole religion which is still practiced today.) The most popular joke that Dante’s Inferno is just Bible fanfiction is a good example: bc sure, funny joke, but that’s just straight up religious text. Yes he took creative liberties; but it shaped the Christian religion in ways that still echo today. That’s why it is not considered fanfiction, and comparing it is funny but not accurate. Hope this helps, anyone else is also fully allowed to comment on this and explain better bc I’m at work and also not an expert on the library of Alexandria lol

People comparing ao3 and the library of alexandria are the same idiots who think religions and mythos and foundational literary texts are "fanfiction"

[nameless-shrimp]

𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — BONTEN

↳ PAIRING: Manjiro Sano + Haruchiyo Sanzu + Rindou Haitani + Ran Haitani + Hajime Kokonoi + Kakucho Hitto x F! Reader (she/her)

↳ TYPE: drabbles

↳ WARNINGS: light NSFW, suggestive, fluff/humor, heavy grammar errors

↳ SYNOPSIS: Your daughter walks in the bedroom late at night while you and your husband are trying to... get it on.

↳ AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is probably bad but i wanted to write this so yeah this was the outcome lmfao. also, this is for my darling may <3 i know you've been going through it honey, but i promise it gets better. so i hope the bonten weirdos make you smile.

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎

“Why’re you up, baby?”

Mikey’s voice echoed from the bedroom. His figure darkened in the low silhouette but the faint dim of the lamp was able to capture his tired glow. Sighing, he slowly slid off his pants cautiously, where you eyed his movements. His eyes portrayed nothing but empty hues—and you grabbed ahold of his wrist, pulling him on top of you in an instant.

Gasping, he furrowed his brows. “Ba—baby?!” He called out carefully, widening his eyes before you peppered lips across his jawline. He sighed in contentment, allowing the fulfillment to take in before your fingers trailed across his bare chest, swirling circles as he hummed in amusement. He grinned; mood shifting from nothing but a shock to a rise of pleasure from mere touches.

“I’ve been impatient,” you noted.

“I see,” Mikey chuckled, dipping his lips close to yours, and he shifted on the blanket, furiously pushing it to the side. His clothed erection met your sensitive spot, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow. “Waitin’ for me, pretty? Let me reward you for being so cute and sexy.”

“You flatter me,” you joked.

“Anything for my sweet, precious wife,” Mikey said, leaning back to bite on your bottom lip. “M’gon’ ruin you all fucking night, you—”

“Daddy!”

In an instant, Mikey rolled over to the edge of the bed, nearly tumbling down to the floor on his chest. Heaving, his eyes shifted to the bedroom door, where his child fumbled in with tear-stained eyes. Aggressively, he rummaged to his pants, shakily putting them on in hopes of quickly hiding his large bulge peeking from his underwear.

“What is it, baby girl?” Mikey cooed, voice brightening. “You should be sleeping at this hour.”

“Buuut,” his little girl whined, fighting back a cry. “I didn’t get to see Daddy before I went to bed and I got scared he was gone forever.”

“Oh, sweet dove,” Mikey pouted, quivering his bottom lip while shoving his pants further up his lap. Soon, he inched a hand to have his child run over to him, where he playfully bit her earlobe only to have her cry out nothing but enchanting giggles. “Daddies need to sleep too, and mama has to get her rest, yeah? But I’ll always come home to my girls. Especially for you—” Mikey poked his child’s nose; a giggle was returned. “—since I can’t survive without my sweet dove by my side!”

The young child grinned. “Bedtime story before I go back to Dreamland?”

Mikey smiled, closing his eyes. “One story, lovely. Then it’s off to bed, ‘kay? Daddy has work in the morning.”

“Okay!”

Your daughter ran away into the hallway, singing along a song about ice cream before you let out an exhausted sigh, running a hand across your forehead. Soon, your lips were met with Mikey’s, where he rubbed a hand against your clothed thighs, eventually teasing around your sensitive buds hidden beneath the pajama top as his fingers worked his way up. Groaning in dissatisfaction with his tease, Mikey smirked, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Wait for me, my love,” he whispered. “Won’t take long. I will be yours all night tonight.”

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔

Sanzu trailed in, tip-toeing across the floor so that the gentle creaks wouldn’t awaken his daughter in the next room. Sighing deeply, he walked into the shared bedroom where he took in the liberty of shaking his legs out of his pants. Groggily, he noticed your sleeping figure—only to smirk when your eyes fluttered open at his sight.

He stood out from the pale moonlight peeking in through the windows. “Couldn’t sleep without me, angel?” Sanzu noted with a grin. “Love that you wait for me but you need to rest too.”

“You take too long to undress,” you snarled playfully before grabbing ahold of his waist and his eyes widened, watching you nibble across the band of his underwear while rubbing your hand against his clothed erection. “Making me more impatient as the clock ticks.”

“Oh, dear,” Sanzu smirked cheekily, leaning in close to bite on your earlobe. “You’re eager for me, aren’t you?”

Slowly, he placed kisses along your jawline, causing you to giggle before his hands took note of your breasts, and he rubbed along the sensitive bud underneath the silky pajamas he bought you a week ago. Nothing satisfied him more than hearing your breathy moans—all from the gentle touch of his fingers, where they slowly trailed down to the hem of your panties before he eased you further into the bed.

“M’gonna ruin you tonight. Got the day off tomorrow, so,” Sanzu chuckled close to your ear, slowly grinding into you. “It’s only you and—”

“Daddy?”

The young feminine voice echoed throughout the hall, where Sanzu’s eyes enlarged before he quickly hopped off to grab ahold of his clothes. His legs shuffled through his pants right before the bedroom door slowly opened, where his eyes met with his younger daughter—wearing nothing but unicorn pajamas with wide-saddening eyes.

“Oh, princess!” Sanzu called out, running a hand through his hair. “It’s very late, you know? Daddy needs to get his sleep too. Why aren’t you being a good girl and staying in bed now?”

Your younger daughter whined with a pout. “Because Daddy didn’t get to sing me a lullaby before bed.”

Fighting back a snort, you turned away as Sanzu eyed you cautiously before standing up. He bent down, grabbing ahold of his daughter as she wailed out for mercy before he peppered kisses all over her forehead. Sanzu began singing a song about flying cars and how he was the toughest daddy in the world, only to hear nothing but happy giggles from his daughter’s lips.

“You better fight Uncle Mikey then, baby girl,” Sanzu pouted, furrowing his eyebrows. “Because he keeps me away from you and mama,” he placed a finger on his daughter’s nose before gasping. “How about I sing you two lullabies before bed? That way my baby can fall asleep and I can go off to bed with mommy, then?”

“Okay!” Your daughter cried out with a grin before Sanzu placed her down.

She scurried out of the room, nearly skipping out the door. Sanzu sighed, shaking his head tiredly before gazing back at you, smirking with a shrug. You watched him lean in to bite your neck harshly, soon to keep his hands on your breaths as he continued to rub your buds underneath the cloth—you groaned to his ears; he smirked at that, and Sanzu pulled away, whistling a cheeky tune.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, pretty,” his tongue stuck out. “I still have to eat my dessert before bed.”

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

Inching his way further into the bedroom, Rindou made his way to the shared bed before he could let out a tired exhale. Slowly, he undressed from unbuttoning his top to removing his pants, and your eyes opened at the sight of him. He watched you, hungrily, only to have him shake his head and sigh.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Rindou pouted. “Missed you—but aren’t you tired?”

“I am,” you responded. “I was waiting for you.”

“Angel, I love you, but you must be tired ‘cause our little princess can keep you up all day,” he chuckled with a nod. “I’ll get in bed with you then we can—”

You grabbed a hold of his wrist, where his top was only halfway buttoned. Rindou fought back a yelp of surprise and he tumbled on you, where you perked up to place your lips along his jaw, nibbling on his skin. Fighting back a quiet moan, his head shook to where his own lips can play along with your neck.

“Feisty, I see?” He chuckled deeply, placing his hand further down to meet with your panties. “Even wore my favorite color too—someone had been waiting for me.”

“Shut up.”

“Love you,” Rindou grinned, only to push a kiss onto your lips while he slowly rolled his hips into you, causing you to quietly moan against his mouth. His eyes widened as he started to push the top up so he could place kisses underneath your breasts. “Quiet now, baby. Don’t wanna wake the little one up now, do we?”

“Aah Rindou,” you let out a shaky breath, where his tongue trailed along your chest. “Please, touch—”

“Daddy! Are you there?”

“The hell?” He quipped, and in an instant, Rindou jumped off the bed immediately where he grabbed onto his crumbled pants on the floor as you shuffled beneath the blanket. The bedroom door widened, where your younger daughter stood there crying with her dog stuffed animal in her hands. During the bits of her cries, Rindou attempted to throw his pants on in the midst of the crisis.

“Baby girl, what is it?” Rindou asked; his voice reaching a high peak—only meant for you and his daughter to hear. “Bad dream? Did the scary monsters wake my little princess up on her way to Dreamland?”

“Daddy,” she cried out. “I missed you. You got eaten by the big wolf in my dream.”

Fighting back a laugh, you covered your mouth as Rindou blinked absentmindedly. He coughed into his fist, only to pout with large eyes. “Oh nooo, that’s so sad,” Rindou gritted his teeth, unsure of how to properly respond. “But I’m here now. Daddy’s alive and well.”

Your young daughter ran to throw her hands around Rindou’s neck, where she let out a muffled sob into his shoulder. “Daddy’s tough. He can fight anyone, can’t he?” She cried out, and Rindou bit his bottom lip from laughing. ‘If only you knew, sweetheart,’ he thought. “I want Daddy to be with me forever.”

“And I will always be with you and mama, ‘kay?” Rindou grinned, placing kisses on her forehead. “Let me read you a bedtime story and I promise that I will fight the big nasty wolf in your dream this time.”

“You will?”

“Anything to protect my little girl.”

“Yay!” She yelled out loud, clapping her hands before skipping out into the room. “Bedtime story with Daddy!”

Rindou’s eyes twitched once the bedroom door slammed shut. He turned to you, raising a brow. “M’not sure if she really had a nightmare, to begin with… or if she’s playing an act for a bedtime story, but…” his voice trailed off, where his smirk fell onto you.

“Don’t leave our daughter waiting,” you said.

Rindou grinned, where he threw his palm across your clothed clit and he nibbled along your shoulders. You watched him rub his clothed erection from his wrinkled pants with an undone belt. He laughed in amusement, clearly finding your reaction to be pleasurable to his ears as desperate moans quietly escaped your lips.

“Can’t keep my beautiful wife waiting either,” he winked. “Stay up for me, my angel. Won’t be long.”

𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

Watching your body snake underneath the covers, Ran chuckles while shaking his head, slowly removing his tie. He took note of your sleepy figure, with your dousy eyes and slight heavy breathing—only to be showered with his kisses all over your face which caused your eyes to wriggle open from Ran’s gentle acts of affection. He laughed, removing his blazer before tossing it to the black chair next to him.

“Go sleep, baby,” Ran stated, running a hand through his hair. “Our little one must’ve kept your cute ass up all morning, yeah?”

“She kept me up all day, actually,” you argued, shaking your head before dipping back into the comfy pillow.

Ran chuckled in amusement, following suit while he wriggled out of his pants. Your eyes scanned him; tender bruises ranging from small cuts as you recalled the moments he spoke to his younger daughter that he could fight a bear and was a tough man. Almost hilarious. Right when he leaned over the edge of the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Time for bed, hottie,” he joked.

Right before he tucked himself to the other side of the bed, you grabbed ahold of his neck and swung him around to where your body rested on top of him. He parted his lips, groggily raising his eyebrows only before he puckered his lips in suit, and he grinned cheekily, rubbing his hands against your sides.

“Oh?” Ran’s head tilted. “What a pleasant surprise, cutie. Didn’t think you had enough energy in you.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Your response caused him to push forward; lips smacking one another, and his hands slowly dipped down the crook of your back only to meet his palm near your hips. He tousled over the sheets, straightening his lips with your warmth sensitive spot hitting his growing erection.

Ran decided to cave in, kissing down your jawline only to rub his teeth against the sweet skin—with moans of delicacy barely fanning out from your lips. The sound he found entertainment in hearing—just right before he could pinch your skin with his fingers while he chuckled grimly beneath your grasp.

“Actin’ so sexy for me, yeah?” Ran noted. “Just all for—”

“Daddy… are you home?”

Ran’s eyes enlarged where he tossed you over the bed, causing you to yelp out in response, dragging the blanket down with you. He shuffled alongside the wrinkled covers, only to grab onto his pants and crinkled top. The bedroom door slowly creaked, where his youngest daughter peeked in to see her father’s pants undone and a hurriedly rushed-on white top.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ran chuckled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “What’re you doin’ up, love? It’s past bedtime for you! The bunnies are gonna miss having their queen in their dreams, aren’t they?”

Your younger daughter clutched onto her stuffed animal, running towards Ran as you managed to cover your body with the thin blanket.

“Daddy, I had a nightmare…” she pouted, staring down.

“Oh, no, baby!” Ran gasped playfully, picking up his daughter before placing her on his lap. He shook her around joyfully, humming a quiet tune. “My sweet girl, you must’ve been so scared. The bunnies didn’t protect you in your nightmare? I’ll have to teach them a lesson then!”

“Can you sleep with me, Daddy? I’m too scared…”

“Mama can’t be on her own either,” Ran laughed, only to ignore the pillow thrown at the back of his head from your mild protest behind him. “Say, let me read you a bedtime story, and I’ll stay in your room until you fall asleep. I’ll even turn the other nightlight on for you, sweetheart. How’s that sound?”

Your daughter sighed, covering her eyes. “You’ll stay with me forever, right?”

“Of course, my princess,” Ran kissed her forehead. “Run to your bedroom and I’ll be chasing right after you, okay?”

Slowly, the younger one kept a hold of her pout, where she dragged the stuffed animal onto the carpet to meet her exit to the bedroom door. Once the door closed, Ran exhaled deeply before shaking his head. He watched you struggle onto the bed, heaving out an annoyed breath while he giggled darkly, only to place a harsh push on your chest.

“Be a lil’ more patient for me, yeah?” Ran spoke close to your lips. “Then I’m gonna bite and love you all night, beautiful.”

𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐈

He tiptoed into the bedroom, darting his eyes back at his daughter’s bedroom door, which was closed shut and Kokonoi was able to peek out the small bits of illumination coming from her nightlight. Exhaling sharply, he closed the door behind him to see you glancing back at him; the lamp still dimly lit and he shot a puzzled look.

“You’re still up, baby?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Thought that you fell asleep already. Our little princess must’ve kept you up all night, hasn’t she?”

Your head shook, following a sigh. “She has. Talking about how she wants Daddy to buy her this new dollhouse and all that.”

“Oh, really?” He chuckled while undoing his belt. “You’ll get mad at me for spoiling her too much. M’gonna tone that down just a bit.”

“Really?”

“Don’t want you getting too feisty on me,” his eyes rolled.

Kokonoi gasped once you grabbed his wrist, pulling him close to where your lips barely fanned alongside the hem of his underwear. Starting to protest, but only to stop himself before running his hands along your side, where Kokonoi trailed the tips of his fingers around the curves of your breasts—a good show, only hidden beneath the sweet, expensive pajama top you bestowed in front of him.

“I take that back,” Kokonoi smirked. “Kind of want that feisty side of you right now, pretty.”

Kneeling up, his lips connected with yours, where his tongue begged for entrance in an instant once he swiped it across the plump lips. Hands tucked into your shorts, with his fingers toying with the top of the thin panties. Groaning once your palm pressed against his erection, he dipped his head down; mouth pressed against the neck.

“So perfect, beautiful, amazing...” Kokonoi whispered, voice carved to meet for your ears only. “And I get to have you all for—”

“Daddy! Dada!”

Without warning, Kokonoi pushed you into the bed and flipped the blankets over your body. “Shit,” he swore, rummaging through his pants, continuing to curse underneath his breath when the belt was sloppily unbuckled. With the bedroom door creaking open, he swept close to the floor, where he shot an innocent grin towards his younger daughter.

“Hi, my pretty lady,” he started. “Why are you up at this—”

“Daaaaddy!” She let out a howling sob. “A big green monster chased me in my dreams!”

“Oh, darling,” he pouted, holding his arms up for his daughter to sprint over immediately. She began to wail; his hands tucked close behind her neck as he softly sang a song about money falling from the trees—and Kokonoi ignored your glare at him for that. “I’ll always protect my girls. You and mama are everything to me, angel.”

“I can’t go to bed without Daddy!”

“You’re a big strong girl, sweetie,” Kokonoi shushed her carefully to where he poked her cheek. “Let me sing you a lullaby before you go to bed. How’s that sound, honey?”

She let out a quiet wail. “Please protect me, Dada.”

Kokonoi grinned, kissing her forehead. “Always, princess. I’ll be your knight in shining armor. Now, run off to your bed and I will follow you.”

In an instant, her cry died down, and your daughter nodded aggressively; Kokonoi took note of that, and she hopped from his lap, only to dart out of the bedroom—she casually sang along to a song about talking trees before her voice vanished from the end of the hall. He stood up, shaking his head before twirling around to cup his hands around your waist.

Kokonoi bit your neck sweetly, just before kissing along the growing bruise. “I’m all yours soon, baby. Just stay up for me a little while longer, then I can love you ‘til morning.”

𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎

Kakucho stomped on his cigarette right before walking into the door, only to dust off any bits of the tobacco that had fallen on his top. Fighting back yawns, he made his way into the house—watching every bit of his movement as he waltzed his way up the stairs to avoid the floor creaking its way to waking either you or his daughter up.

Much to his surprise, his eyes widened when you tousled on the bed, sharing glances where he sent off a genuine smile. Eyes glistening from the light peeking in through the curtains—portraying nothing but concern.

“Why are you up, love?” He asked, unbuttoning his top while wriggling out of his office pants. “What have I told you about getting some proper sleep? I worry for your health too.”

“Just c’mere,” you slurred, fighting back an eye roll. “Missed you all day.”

“I missed you too, gorgeous,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek, only to have him hold back a scowl once you pulled him closer into the bed, where his body slouched on top of you. “Ah, love. You don’t seem tired at all, yeah?”

“Not at all.”

“Damn you,” Kakucho grinned, allowing you to sprinkle kisses along his jaw. “Fuck. Had to be beautiful, amazing, breathtaking, and perfect for me. You know I just can’t resist—”

“Mommy, I think Daddy’s home!”

“She’s not in bed?” Kakucho whispered sharply, before he did a swift roll of the bed. His hands darted for his top while he fiddled with the belt buckle of his pants, attempting to cover the small bit of his underwear peeking out. “Shit, shit, what the hell—”

“Daddy! I’ve been waiting for you!”

Before you could sit up and protest at your daughter, Kakucho laughed wholeheartedly while he took a seat on the bed. With the little one running up to him, his arms held onto her tight; giggles arousing the air, nothing but sweetness to your ears, and he shook his head in displeasure. This earned a pout from your daughter.

“And tell me, why are you up, honey?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows. “Bedtime was a while ago for you. I don’t want you stayin’ up late for Daddy, now.”

“I wanted you to tell me the bedtime story of the Gingerbread Man, again,” she sighed, voice toning down. “It’s always the best when Daddy tells me bedtime stories before bed.”

Kakucho sighed, rubbing her head playfully. “You need to get some shut-eye too, sweetie. You’re gon’ make me worry for you and have me go bald.”

“You’d look funny.”

“Exactly,” he quipped before poking his nose with hers; a laugh followed suit from her lips. “Let’s get you to bed. And I’ll read you the story all over again but then it’s bedtime for you, alright?”

“Fine,” she exhaled while letting out a yawn right after.

Your daughter walked over to the door before hurriedly running down the hallway, already in the mind of picking up all her toys from the floor. And Kakucho shook his head while glancing towards you gazing at him with knitted brows. “Parenting’s no joke, huh?” You said, only before he leaned in to dust kisses along your neck.

Kakucho sprinkled his kisses down to your collarbone, nearly nibbling on the skin while his fingers ghostly tickle your jawline. “And my love for you is no joke, either,” he cooed. “Now wait for me until I get back, gorgeous. Then I’m all yours for the night.”

tags: @spoofybun @sonder-paradise @duckiichan @nullified-kiss @ravenina14 @3-am-depression @manjirose @feralfordazai

[siempre-bucky]

I love Rory & Orla! They are the best made up kids I will ever have! My idea is silly. One or both of them are home from college and they go out with their friends & return home drunk. What shenanigans happen? Who's powers go off strangely? Who gets caught trying to make a weird sandwich? Or which parent takes turns babysitting? Just silly chaos...

Dad!Druig x Reader

I'm so glad you like them my love! I really enjoyed writing these :') i like exploring these fictional kids! I took a little creative liberty here!

being an Eternal made it more difficult to become drunk

Orla had never been blackout drunk before

until Phastos' family decided to visit

and she showed Jack one of the best pubs in Dublin

they were having a good time

a few beers in

and then a few of the lads from the university approached her

"A lady like yer self can't handle all that," one of them taunted, pointing to her empty glass

Jack's eyes went a little wider as he saw his friend smirk

"Orla, don't," he pleaded

"Oh yeah? I can out drink all of you," she responded with an overly sweet tone, batting her eyelashes

all Jack could do was watch as Orla drank the lads under the table

he politely smiled whenever she'd look back at him with a wide proud grin

"Jack," Orla whined as they walked home from the bar, carrying her high heels in her hand

Jack has his hands in his jacket pockets, walking a few steps ahead of her

"You did this to yourself," he smirked

"I can't go home," she started to cry, stomping her foot on the pavement

Jack stopped and turned around

Orla's makeup running from all the tears

"My dad's gonna kill me!"

"Uncle Druig won't kill you, Orla."

"Yes he will, you don't know him!" she sobbed

Jack rolled his eyes and held her by the wrist to drag her home

"Why is she crying?" you asked as he dragged your daughter into the living room

"She's... lack of a better word, shitfaced, Aunt Y/N."

you started to laugh as Orla collided with your chest

turning up your nose at the overwhelming smell of beer

"Oh, honey...let's get you to bed. Thank you for watching over her, Jack."

"Where's dad?" she asked as she got into bed

you covered her in her blanket as she started to cry again

"Out with Phastos?"

"Good. He's gonna be so mad at me."

You started to cackle, "Oh baby no. You should've seen him one night in Babylon. Reminds me of you now, tears and all."

Rory wasn't the kind of college kid who liked to go to parties

sure he had a drink here and there

but he'd much rather work on one of his paintings

"Let's go, kid," Kingo cheered as he ripped off Rory's headphones

"What the hell?" Rory gasped

Kingo held up a large jug of Asgardian beer

Rory looked at his door

Phastos and Gilgamesh had encouraging smiles

Gil even gave him a thumbs up

"Campus parties were always my favorite to crash," Kingo admitted as he pried the small paintbrushes from the young Eternals' hands, placing them in the dirty paint water

the men dragged him down the stairs

Druig pulled on his leather jacket, smirking as they descended the stairs

"Not you too," Rory whined

Druig leaned in and adjusted the bracelet on his wrist

"Your mom's making me go to watch over you. I know these guys too well."

who knew Rory would be the chatty drunk

he stood with some of the other kids in the corner

beer bottles in hand as they swapped stories

laughing and pushing each other around playfully

"I think you gave him too much, Kingo. He never talks this much," Gil joked

Druig stood in the corner, avoiding the stares of the girls making eyes at him

he watched Rory carefully from afar

things were fine until he stood up on one of the crates

"Do the lot of ya wanna see something?" Rory shouted with a slurred voice

"Shit." Druig lurched forward as he saw the start of cosmic lines of energy form around Rory's forearm

the crowed of young adults' eyes turned gold

Kingo and Gil quickly grabbed Rory by the arms, dragging him out of the party

"I see why he doesn't go out," Phastos chuckled as he nudged Druig's shoulder

Druig nudged him back as they walked out, trying to conceal his laugh

[xocasper]

Blame It on the Heat

Pairing: Kobra Kid x Reader Summary: It's an unbearably hot day in the Zones, but there's something hotter right outside the diner - your best friend, Kobra. Warnings: NSFW content Tags: fingering, semi-public sex, friends to lovers Word Count: 2155 A/N: There isn't enough Kobra Kid smut, so I took it upon myself to write some. Write the smut you want to see in the world.

“Why is it so damn hot out?” Ghoul groaned, stretching out on a seat in the diner. You had just gotten back from a supply run, and you were more than grateful to be in the cool confinements of the diner.

“Because we live in the desert, dumbass,” Party responded, who was sick of listening to his friend complain about the heat all day. Ghoul pouted at his response and prepared to start a squabble.

“At least I don’t cosplay as the American flag.”

“I do not look like the American flag!” Party, ever the anarchist, took his words personally and looked to Jet for support, who just shook his head and continued to tinker with the radio.

“C’mon, you see it too, don’t you?” Ghoul giggled, glancing at you as if you would give in. Like Jet, you knew better to feed into their petty arguments. With your arms raised in surrender, you swung your legs over the worn cushions and left in search of Kobra.

Kobra was your favorite. You had met him after saving his ass from a group of Draculoids, and after getting over the initial shock of the situation, he asked you to join his gang. He had always been very sweet to you, making sure to retell the whole story to his friends that night so you could get the recognition you deserve. That was months ago though, and your bond had only strengthened over time.

You pushed through the metal doors, burning your hands slightly and feeling a wave of heat as you stepped out of the diner. The sound of your boots scuffing against the dusty ground made Kobra lift his head to see you, and the view before you had your head spinning.

There he was, and god was he a sight for sore eyes. His t-shirt lay discarded next to him, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his lean figure. His bleached hair was unkempt, loose strands sticking to his forehead, and his hands were stained with oil from his motorcycle. The scene definitely stirred something inside of you, causing several vulgar thoughts to plague your mind.

Kobra’s eyes softened upon seeing you, beckoning you over while still crouched next to his motorcycle. When you didn’t say anything, he took the liberty of speaking first.

“Did you come out here for something or were you just planning on ogling at me all day?” he joked, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Nah, Party and Ghoul are bickering again and I didn’t feel like getting in the middle of it.”

He offered you a sympathetic smile and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, him fixing up his bike, and you admiring him. Maybe you shouldn’t stare so blatantly, but if he had an issue with it he’d probably let you know.

As the minutes passed, it only seemed to get hotter, the California sun beating down on you and undoubtedly leaving burns for you to treat later. You couldn’t help but complain about it, and Kobra promised that he would finish up soon and you could go sit in the shade.

The next few minutes were spent watching the man, how he’d furrow his brow as he rifled through his tools or the way he’d bite his lip while he surveyed his work. A sense of guilt swirled in your stomach with each passing thought. Obviously, you didn’t want to make your friend uncomfortable, but that was the problem.

You had never just been friends with Kobra. Sure, you had always found him attractive but you were typically able to push it down. Perhaps it was the heat getting to you, but you could hardly find the decency to suppress your desires.

Kobra finished up while you were spacing out, standing up tall and staring back down at you. Somehow he looked even more attractive from this angle, fogging up your mind for a moment as you met his gaze. It may have been a blossoming sunburn, but you could’ve sworn he was blushing.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, hauling yourself up via his arms, and pulled him into the shade on the side of the diner. He still hadn’t said anything, seemingly caught up in his own thoughts. Once you were tucked away under the shadow of the carport, you turned to face him, planting your hands on either side of his face so you were directly in his line of sight. Your eyes squinted in question, and he stood stiff as you observed him.

“What’s wrong?” A frown found its way onto your face as you asked him, and he appeared to be equally confused. He let out a breath and shook his head before answering.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You’re especially... distant today.”

He chuckled a bit at that, as you had also been acting odd.

“You’re one to talk.” You smiled at how stubborn he was, giving up on your interrogation and deciding that it was probably best to blame it on the heat. He slid down to the ground, tugging you with him, and together you sat in the shade, cooling down from the torrid temperature.

Despite feeling his stare, you continued to watch the clouds move, figuring if you looked back at him you’d jump his bones right there. You didn’t pay him any attention until you felt him take hold of your hand, and at that point, he was back to studying the sky with you.

Kobra could absolutely tell you were watching him, but he was too anxious to say anything, so he was incredibly relieved when you made the first move.

You twisted your body just enough to face him, one hand still in his, while the other brushed along his jawline. He tilted his head to the side, settling it in your cupped hand as you leaned in to kiss him. It was sweet and tender, and he brought his hand up to rest under your chin, pulling you closer.

You reluctantly pulled away to catch your breath, resting your forehead against his. With stupid smiles slapped across your faces, you refilled your lungs to dive back in again, and it was even better than the last.

There was no hesitance this time, allowing you to truly experience the kiss. His lips were soft, moving in time with yours. He let go of your hand to pull you into his lap, keeping a firm grip on your hips, while yours hung around his neck. Upon moving them, you realized that he had left his shirt on his bike, sending a flood of salacious thoughts through your head.

A surge of adrenaline ran through you as he parted your lips with the tip of his tongue, effortlessly taking your breath away. Kobra’s mouth was warm and wet, and the way he flicked his tongue against yours sent you spiraling. He caressed your waist as the kiss deepened, refusing to move his hands from their current position.

You ground your hips against his in an attempt to relieve the discomfort between your legs, triggering a moan from him. It was like music to your fucking ears.

He groaned softly as you pulled away, tucking yourself into the side of his neck and leaving marks that the guys would tease him for later. You inhaled his aroma, feeling fuzzy as it flooded your sinuses. Kobra always smelled nice; it was one of your favorite things about him. You always felt a sense of comfort when he would lend you his jacket, or on sleepless nights when the only thing to tranquilize you was your best friend’s embrace. Now having your lips pressed to his skin and feeling the same warmth was almost dizzying.

You ran your hands down his chest as you left gentle bites across his collarbones, scratching softly and earning small noises from him. Growing restless yourself, you leaned back up to whisper some direction.

“Touch me, Kobra.”

His head lolled back as you traced the shell of his ear with your tongue, placing your hands over his to slide them up to your chest. Kobra made quick work of your top and bra, tossing them to the side and stroking the sensitive skin. The sight of him lowering his head to your chest combined with how his mouth felt made a warm feeling flood your abdomen.

He kissed and bit your skin the way you had done to him, breath fanning across your nipples, making you writhe beneath him. You whined high in your throat as he flattened his tongue against one, and rolled the other between his fingers. He had grown painfully hard, his erection poking at your thigh while you rubbed yourself against him, desperate for any kind of friction.

Eventually, you both grew impatient, and he decided to initiate things this time. He moved his hands down to your jeans, tugging lightly and the waistband as if waiting for permission, and only slipped his hand down after you mumbled your consent.

His fingers swept over your wet folds, gathering up your slick before pushing inside. The fact that it was  him  that made you this wet ignited something in him, and he was struck with a need to make you feel good.

You had always really loved his hands, so having his fingers buried inside you was something out of a wet dream. Your breath caught in your throat as he continued to pump in and out of you, gasping when his thumb brushed against your clit. A small cry fell past your lips as he curled his fingers inside of you, making him repeat the action a few more times before pulling his hand away.

He brought them to his mouth next, sucking them clean and pulling you in for a messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. As erotic as it all was, your need to have him back inside you was growing stronger by the second, and you knew his pants were uncomfortably tight.

“I want you to fuck me,” you told him breathlessly.

The sound he made was nothing but carnal desire, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He pulled you up with him as he got to his feet, arm still wrapped around you as he helped you out of your jeans. You unbuckled his belt as he watched with rapt attention, mouth falling slightly open when you took him out of his boxers. His breath shuddered as you stroked him gently, but he soon lifted you up and pressed you against the wall.

A small hiss escaped you as he thrust inside, and though it hurt, you wanted nothing more than for him to move. He held you for a moment before he pushed in completely, allowing you to adjust. As the pain blurred into pleasure, you let go of your inhibitions, letting a lust-filled haze take over your mind.

Kobra set a steady rhythm, focusing on going deep rather than fast. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him impossibly close. Lewd noises flowed freely from both of you, only elevating the experience.

A familiar feeling began to build in your abdomen as time went on, and you noticed how Kobra’s thrusts grew sloppier and his breathing became more erratic. Nothing you said was coherent anymore, simply an indecipherable mix of curses and your lover’s name.

You just about sobbed into his shoulder as you hit your orgasm, and the whole world stopped for a second. He fucked you through it, and quickly pulled out to release. Everything faded to black and you clung to him out of exhaustion. He helped you lean against the wall while he cleaned you both up because you were out of it.

After getting dressed and sharing many kisses, the two of you headed back inside, fully prepared for an excessive amount of mocking.

Which is exactly what you received.

Upon entering the diner, you and Kobra were met with very mixed reactions. Party was revolted, Ghoul was grinning maliciously, and Jet just wanted to be left alone.

“Can you not fuck within earshot next time?” Party asked with a scowl, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Before either of you could respond, Ghoul jumped in with an over-the-top impression of you and Kobra, filling the diner with high-pitched moans and effectively embarrassing the two of you.

Kobra dragged you away to the other room before you could castrate your friend, where he kissed you again and then sprung the question that was on both of your minds.

“So what does this make us?”

“Well, I think we’ve wasted enough time beating around the bush, so I vote that we just date already.”

A small smile made its way onto his face and he looked into your eyes, sparkling with newfound passion.

“I think that’s perfect.”