#anyway I'm thinking of what to watch next

[gloomwitchwrites]

Good evening to you. I thought about writing you many times but never had the courage to do so 😅 I saw a TikTok Trend some time ago and thought about the Reaction from our beloved task Force 141. How would they react when you "accidentally" sent them the message "He just left our house, you can come now. He'll be gone for some time". Basically pranking them by implying something shady. You can ignore this if it's weird of course. Thank you for your time and amazing writing 🙏😊

I'm so glad you finally got the courage to send in a request because I had so much fun with this one! Many many thanks because I pretty much cackled and giggled the whole time I wrote this. I'm not exaggerating. I adored this prompt. It not only gave me room for a little humor, but it also gave me the opportunity to be a little naughty!

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Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & shenanigans, suggestive themes, mild sexual content, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, swearing, possessive behavior

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Five minutes.

Five. Minutes.

Five minutes and you're already causing problems.

John isn't surprised. Not in the least. Sometimes, you enjoy being on your worst behavior just because it stirs him into a frenzy.

John is sitting at a stoplight, staring down at his phone screen. A car honks but he ignores it.

He's gone. Come over.

There isn't anyone else. John knows this explicitly. Not because he completely trusts you—which he does—but because he knows your exact location at all times. He knows what you search on your phone and what things you look at on the internet. And because he knows that, he knows you're just trying to take the piss.

Locking his phone screen, John turns on his blinker. A few turns later and he's back home, marching through the door. He's not mad. Far from it. You just need a good lesson—a good spanking. Over his knee with a bare ass. That way he can watch it bounce, watch as you wiggle and squirm, hear you whimper, and watch as your arousal grows with each strike.

Then, and only then, will he keep you under him. Which is what you want anyway.

John walks silently and with purpose, approaching you as you casually lounge on the couch.

"You're home early."

John ignores the jab. "You're on one today, cabbage."

"Whatever do you mean?"

John holds up his phone. "Think I'm going to believe this?"

Your eyes widen but John can see the bluff. "I meant to send that to—"

"To me," interrupts John. “You meant to send it to me.”

"To a friend,” you correct, but John notices the smile you attempt to hide. “I meant to send it to a friend.”

No. You wanted John to come home—to be a bit neurotic, even a little possessive.

"Fine," growls John. "I'll bite."

He places one hand on the top of the back cushion while the other rests above your head. He leans in, lowering his voice.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"Show me you mean it."

You tuck your knees in, drawing back your top and removing your lounge pants. When they're gone, you spread wide, revealing your glistening pussy. Your arousal is clear, and John cannot wait to sink inside.

"That's my good girl."

John "Soap" MacTavish

You sent the texts not long after Johnny left for work.

He’s gone. Won’t be home for hours. Come over.

At first, you believed that Johnny would get those texts and immediately turn around, to head home and bust down the door. He did no such thing. He didn’t even respond. Not a peep from him. You spent the rest of the day in limbo, unsure if Johnny received the texts at all.

So, when he does come home, you expect him to say something.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, going in for a kiss.

“How was work?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “Had a briefing. We’ll be heading out for a mission next week.”

“Do you know when exactly?” you ask.

“Tuesday!” he calls back.

Nothing. This man is completely glossing over the fact that you sent those texts to him. When he reappears in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, you nearly swoon at his bare chest and stomach.

“What did you get up to today?” he asks, sauntering over to grasp your hips and pull you close.

“Nothing much,” you reply, and Johnny hums in reply, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know,” he says after a beat, fishing out his phone from his pocket. “You did send me a few odd texts earlier.” He taps away at the screen at turns it around to show you.

The texts you sent are right there, glowing brightly.

“Oh, those—”

“I checked the cameras.”

“Cameras?” you choke. “What cameras?”

Johnny grins and then he’s tapping away at his phone again. When he shifts the screen around, you see yourself and him in real time. You turn to the corner of the room from where the feed is coming from.

“I never saw anyone come over. But I did see this.”

Tapping again, he changes to an earlier time during the day. It’s a feed of the bedroom, and you’re masturbating. Johnny ups the volume and you hear yourself moan.

“There’s this, too,” he says, switching to the night before when he had you on all fours, ass in the air.

“Johnny!”

He tightens his hand on your hip, keeping you close. Lowering his voice, Johnny grins. “Try again, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You watch from the window as Simon’s car pulls out of the drive. You wait until he turns the corner before unlocking your phone and selecting his name.

He’s just left. Come over.

With a wicked grin, you hit send, knowing that the texts will reach Simon any second. Leaning against the window, you wait, and then smile wider as Simon’s car sharply turns the corner and speeds down the street back to the house.

He’s hardly parked the car before he’s exiting the vehicle, storming toward the house, malicious intent clear with every step. With a triumphant giggle, you rush to the bedroom and flop onto the bed, pretending that you’re up to nothing at all.

You hear the front door slam, then Simon’s thunderous footsteps followed by doors opening and closing. Sprawling out across the bed, you tap away at your phone, acting like you're not bothered at all.

When he appears in the doorway, you deliberately ignore him for five long seconds before you casually turn your head and smile.

"You're home early," you observe.

Simon looms in the doorway. "What the bloody hell was that text about?"

"What text?" you shrug, all innocence.

Simon, deadpan, replies "He's just left. Come over."

"Oh. That was for a friend."

"Which friend?"

"A friend."

Simon slowly walks up to the side of the bed. "You're fucking with me."

"Don't know what you're on about, Simon."

The murderous demeanor you saw earlier melts away, leaving behind a mischievous glint that you know all too well. With a viper-like quickness, Simon grasps your ankle and yanks you to the end of the bed.

"Simon!" you shriek, but he's already flipping you over onto your stomach.

He plants both knees on either side of you, keeping you trapped beneath him, his large hands coming down on your wrists to pin them above your head.

"Was last night not enough?" he asks, voice a gruff whisper. "Or do you need another lesson?"

You lift your head as Simon transfers both wrists beneath one hand. He has his phone, tapping away at the screen.

'What are you doing?"

"Telling Price I'm not coming in."

"But you're scheduled."

Simon locks the phone and then tosses it to the side. "He'll understand." Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice drops to a breathy whisper. "I have a woman to breed."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It's cruel, perhaps. Even mean. But getting Kyle worked up is so goddamn sweet.

He’s protective, sometimes even a bit possessive, and nothing is hotter to you than watching him stake his claim.

Which is why you sent those texts in the first place—a way to make his heartrate spike.

He just left. He'll be gone for hours.

Kyle bursts through the bedroom door, his chest heaving as if he just ran several miles.

“Where are they?” he asks, voice a growl.

Kyle heads for the bathroom. Throwing open the door, he storms inside, but finding nothing, retreats back into the bedroom.

"Where's who?" you ask in mock innocence as Kyle opens the closet, pushing aside clothes as if he’ll find someone hiding there.

Kyle exits the closet, hands on his hips. “I saw the texts.”

“What texts?” You casually retrieve your phone, already knowing what you’ll find there. Opening up the messaging app, you click on Kyle’s name, and laugh.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “I meant to send that to a friend.”

Kyle’s eyes shut, and the sigh he makes is so loud you laugh harder. Clutching his own phone in his hand, Kyle shakes it in his fist.

“You’re having a laugh,” he says.

"No," you giggle. "Just a mistake."

That thin line becomes a smirk. Kyle tosses his phone onto the bed and you immediately know you’re done for.

“I know you, love. Think you’re clever, yeah?”

He saunters forward, and you push up onto your hands, sliding back along the bed.

“Kyle,” you warn.

“Tricking me just to get me home. For what? Think I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I think.

You scoot away, sinking into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Kyle matches your movements until he’s nearly horizontal over you.

“You’re right,” he continues. “I will.” His gaze roams over your body and then returns to your face. “But first, I’m going to train you into never making a silly mistake like that ever again.”

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[leighsartworks216]

His Beautiful Nose

Sylus x gn!Reader

This is all I think about when I see him sometimes, genuinely. I just see his nose and I go a little insane

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, biting, teasing, silly

Word Count: 1,001 (all my fics lately have had such satisfying word counts ough so good)

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"Sweetie, what are you doing?"

You shush him, focused on whatever the hell you were up to right now. Sylus quirks a brow at you.

"I think I have a right to know, since you're holding my face hostage," he teases, speaking in a languid murmur, raspy.

You'd found him asleep in one of his many lounge chairs; legs out, arms crossed, head back. It was impossible to ignore the desire to sneak around behind the chair and hold his face. Of course, doing so woke him up, which led you here.

"I'm just appreciating how pretty you are," you tell him. And it's not technically a lie. You are appreciating his beauty. Just, a specific part of his beauty.

"And you can't sit in my lap and do that?" He reaches back behind the chair. His large hand finds your back easily and begins tracing light shapes into your sides, your spine - wherever he could reach.

You giggle and squirm away from his ticklish touch. "No, now stay still and hush."

He huffs with exasperation, but he does as you ask. His hand settles on your lower back, loosely holding you close. He appreciates you in turn with his crimson eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

You run your thumbs along his cheeks. His skin is smooth, pliant beneath your fingers. He seems so untouchable - and he is. To everyone that isn't you. The fact you're this close means more than you'll ever be able to fully grasp.

You lean down and press a delicate kiss between his eyebrows. His fingers twitch against your back. You trace under his eyes, coaxing him into closing them and putting his full trust in your hands. You kiss the spot again.

The next spot your lips find is perhaps half an inch down, at the point where his nose begins protruding from his face. It's an odd place for a kiss, he thinks. You must be up to something, yet he allows it anyway.

Kisses are slowly peppered down his nose. Each one takes its time, each following the strong line of his nose, over the bump and the wide bridge, down to the tip. Each one pours into the lazy smile tugging at his lips. You really woke him up just to "appreciate" his nose?

The kisses retreat towards his brow, but never reach it. One kiss, then two placed at the most prominent part of his nose's definition, and then-

He cracks an eye open. "Did you just bite my nose?"

You hum with a slight nod, kissing over the spot again. "I've been wanting to bite it for weeks now. This seemed like the perfect opportunity." Despite the nonchalant way you say it, he can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and onto his.

He chuckles softly and draws you closer by your back. "Do it again."

Truly, you didn't expect for that to be his response. You anticipated this being the one and only time you'd ever be allowed to do this. But he's encouraging it, with clear amusement.

Your teeth settle on either side of the bridge of his nose and not very far down, not even as far back as your canines, and gently bite down. It's not a lot of pressure, either. Realistically, it's more of a light nip, but he hums his approval. When you pull away, your lips catch on his skin, just as his do when he bites your hand. It's perfect.

His eyes watch now with unreserved affection. His hand trails up your back, reaches to cradle the back of your neck and the base of your skull. "Come here," he murmurs lowly. You're guided forward, drawn down as he tilts his head further back to meet his lips.

Your mouths move together in languid, drowsy kisses. The faint wet sound of your lips parting and shared, soft breaths fill the room. His nose presses against your chin, and yours in his, but neither of you move from the awkward angle except to deepen the kiss.

You feel the smirk on his lips before you see it. He pulls away and your body is suddenly weightless, floating through the air, carried by playful tendrils of energy.

"Sylus! What're you doing?!" You're flipped over him, slow enough you don't get lightheaded, to the front of the chair and directly into his lap. His arms wrap powerfully around your waist to draw you against his chest. Light kisses trail along your neck.

"You woke me from my nap. It only seems fair to keep you here," he says against your skin.

There's no point trying to push his arms away or wriggling free. He's much too strong for that. So, you give in. You sigh with a playful roll of your eyes and lean back into him, trying to find some comfortable position. Once you're settled, one of his arms slips from around you, and gently fingers turn you by your chin to face him.

"I also need to return the favor, don't I?"

He takes his sweet time doing so. A trail of kisses, all light pecks, winds from your jaw to your chin to your cheek. They finally come to your forehead, where he places one between your brows. Down to where your nose begins. Down over the bridge, to the tip, and back up.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts his head and carefully lines his teeth up in just the same way you did. He bites down, gentle in a way that seems unfathomable to anyone else who knew him. After a second, he pulls away, lips catching on your skin.

He leans back into the chair and guides your head to his shoulder before wrapping his arm around you once more. He sighs, long and low, with content. "Wake me up in four hours," he murmurs.

"And what am I supposed to do until then?"

"You should have thought about that before you snuck in, sweetie."

---

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[littelovelunette]

Sevika with reader who like talks back too much or maybe wears a dress she told you not to cause it’s too showy so she drags them home and bends her over her knee cane makes the reader count them 💕💕😩 (I let ovulation day me write this my bad)

I get you baby I get you I feel like I'm ovulating 24/7 haha that's why I'm writing so much smut, check out the pinned post and touch yourself mwah thank me later

Red Handprints

Content warning: Mild smut (?), spanking, brat tamer Sevika

Today morning when you finished shower and was picking out some clothes to wear, you started holding up all your cute little dainty dresses to see which one seemed better for the day. But just as you held up a mini dress, Sevika let out a quiet, "Nuh-uh."

She grabbed the hanger of the dress, taking it out of your hands and putting it back into the closet. "You wanna get harassed by goons or something?" She raised a brow, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette before she exhaled it through her nose. "Just looking out for ya'."

"Thanks, but I'm not a kid," you retorted with a fuckass grin and that made Sevika's jaw tighten, you could see the veins of her neck rise a little but she bit back her mean words, swallowing down her anger.

"Don't let me catch you wearing that. You might as well go outside naked," Sevika rolled her eyes mumbling as she walked out, probably for work.

She didn't appreciate you mouthing her off so she didn't bother even saying a simple goodbye.

You smirked a little, "Mission accomplished," you hummed to yourself and giggled before you walked back to the closet, taking the small dress out anyway.

You'd wear it, not just to show off your curves but to ruffle Sevika's feather. And you'd make sure you go into Last Drop so you don't show off too much or seem disloyal, just messing with her a bit.

The bar was a little crowded as you walked inside, you could see her playing poker with the other henchmen.

Her eyes immediately locked onto yours as she gave you a once over, her lips pursing in disappointment.

She got up, throwing some cash onto the table and walked upto you, grabbing your neck, "What do you think you're doing?" Sevika whisper-yelled at you, the scene rof tobacco and alcohol filling your nostrils.

"What?" You feigned innocence.

Sevika, not wanting to cause a scene, picked you up, wrapping you with her poncho, "You're basically in a bikini," she whispered again, as she led you out of the bar.

"Geez, okay, mother," you replied in a taunting tone which Sevika didn't take lightly.

"Apologise," she said, her voice had a final tone but you held your tongue this time before an idea sparked in your brain.

"Make me!" You said, knowing she'd fuck some sense into you.

Well, that's how you ended up over her lap, crying. Sevika smacked a big hand over your ass again.

"I'm starting over. You messed up your counting," Sevika said, pausing before smacking your ass again.

You howled in pain, burying your face in the sheets, red ass perched up by a pillow over her lap, "O-one..."

Sevika slapped your ass again, the smack echoing in your shared bedroom, "Two.."

Sevika continued spanking your ass, each slap harder than the other and she didn't seem like she'd stop anytime soon, not even when you were gasping for air, sobbing loudly.

She seemed to enjoy it, even taunting you through it. Sevika's hand came down in a harsh slap again, "T-t-... Twenty," you croaked and she positioned you on the bed, ass hovering in the air.

"Stay like that, reflect," She walked off to sit down at the edge of the bed as she watched your red ass pushed up, head in the pillows as you cried in pain quietly.

Seviak took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a good inhale, "Think next time before you decide to be a brat."

[peacheeeliz]

030. my wife! (wc: 960)

“Okay, Sera, Jake, you'll stay in that little bunker over there,” Heeseung explains, referencing the small bunker built in the middle of the desert. “Roz and I will stay out here to keep Voodoo and Quix away, but if they get at least five blocks away, there's a level for you to pull that'll set off a good amount of TNT I set up.”

“A good amount of TNT?” You question, staring at the sandy bunker. “And we'll be safe from the TNT in there, right?” Heeseung's character stares at you without a word, his lack of answer leaving you on edge. “Your bunker isn't going to kill us, right?”

“Nooooo,” he says, voice pitchy as his character turns away slowly. “It'll be fine, I promise. There's nothing safer.”

“I highly doubt that,” you whisper to yourself as he goes on to continue more of the plan.

As Heeseung yaps away, Sunghoon's character turns to you. “Hey, I wasn't lying earlier. I'm here to protect you,” he says softly.

“Ew, can we keep the flirting to a minimum today?” Jake questions, rolling his eyes behind his camera. “This is a life or death situation. Now is not the time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sunghoon lets out, huffing. “You're just jealous.”

“Yeah, I'm so jealous,” Jake continues. “So jealous that we're in the middle of a war and our allies are too busy flirting to listen to the plan.”

“The plan that will most likely kill us?” You say, laughing when he doesn't respond. “Yeah, something tells me being inside that bunker will be more dangerous than out here.”

“You guys have no faith in me,” Heeseung huffs, after finally realizing no one was listening to his explanation. “Maybe if you actually listened to me, you'd feel more confident staying in the bunker.”

“I really don't think it will,” you answer, shrugging – despite the fact he can't see it. Before he can retort, an arrow flies straight past your screen. “Oh fuck.”

Just over in the next biome, Sunoo and Taeyoung are standing in the tree line with their bows drawn. Sunghoon immediately turns back to you, “Go. We'll hold them back, alright?” He starts, ushering you towards the bunker. “And remember, if they get too close, pull that lever.”

“But we don't even know if it's safe for us,” you retort, but you still make your way towards the bunker with Jake.

“You'll be okay, baby, I promise,” he tells you. “Now go. Stay safe in there, okay?”

Your smile brightens at his comforting voice, but Jake is quick to pull you out of your trance as he calls you from across the desert. The two of you take your place in the bunker, watching as the chaos unfolds in front of you. Many shots fly across through the air, but the battle takes a while to get close and personal; and eventually, swords are drawn.

“Red Winter is coming!” Taeyoung calls out, targeting Heeseung and slashing his sword towards the older boy.

Jake's character slowly turns toward you, “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks quietly, and you can barely hold back your laugh. “This is a Minecraft series… What does that mean?”

“It means we're at war with theater kids,” you answer, laughing with the man. Your eyes find their way back to the fight outside, landing on Sunghoon as he crosses swords with Sunoo. The two draw closer and closer to the bunker, Sunghoon backtracking when he realizes just how low his health has gotten.

“Wait, wait, wait, Sera, look,” Jake exclaims, trying to show you just how close Sunoo was getting to the bunker. “You gotta pull the lever!”

“Me? Why do I have to pull the lever?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows. “Why can't you?”

“Because I don't wanna,” he says sheepishly, showcasing a nice toothy grin towards his screen. “Come on, if they get too close, they could kill us! You have to pull it.”

“Whatever, whatever,” you say, but you make your way towards the lever anyway. “If we die, I'm blaming you.”

“I can accept that,” he answers, making his character nod quickly. “Now go! He's right there with Roz” He pauses. “Wait, don't pull it. Roz is too close. It might get him, too.”

“I,” you take a deep breath. “Do you want me to pull it or not?”

“Don't pull it,” he says. Just then, an arrow is shot right into the bunker, flying right between your two characters. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. “Okay, pull it.”

You roll your eyes and move your mouse to hover over the lever. Taking in another deep breath, you click, and everything happens in a flash. TNT explodes all around the bunker, and your hearts drop faster than you can even count, until YOU DIED is written across your screen. Your mouth falls wide open, eyes wide in disbelief as you stare at your screen in silence.

Meanwhile, Jake has a similar reaction, watching your character disappear as sand falls all around him. He lost a few hearts, but not nearly enough to kill him off. He's brought out of his trance when he hears Sunghoon scream, “My wife!”

At Sunghoon's outburst and the crash of thunder that rings through the sky, the four out in the desert to the giant hole in the sand. “No, no, no, no,” the man babbles, eyes wide as he reads the chat over and over again. How could he have let you die? He was standing there with all three lives left, and you were gone. In his state of shock, left unaware of his surroundings, Taeyoung takes his chance to attack.

Within seconds, the same YOU DIED screen shines across Sunghoon's face.

synopsis ⤏ popular youtubers team up on all new minecraft smp, quick to name themselves the "newly weds" after sunghoon gifts y/n a poppy. but will these romantic endeavors between the two just be "for the lore," or will feelings blossom?

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[gf2bellamy]

Hi hi hi!

I just want to say that I love your writing so much. The way you write Spencer is just so cozy and feels like a warm hug, if you get what I'm saying?

Anyways I'm wondering if you could write Spencer reacting to his non-bau/fbi girlfriend sending him handwritten love letters to his cubicle at work? With something extra like a bouquet of flowers or little care packages? And Derek being all 'the two of you are completely whipped' but is so happy for the both of you.

I just love it when boys are the ones being dotted on because yes - boys love getting flowers too and they should because they deserve them!

presents — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: thank you so much that's so so so sweet <33 that means alot to me !!! <3 i hope you like this ( i'm craving cookies now )

The BAU bullpen was unusually quiet for a Thursday afternoon. The team was scattered—some at their desks, others in the briefing room—but Spencer Reid was buried in a mountain of paperwork.

His desk was a chaotic mess of case files, books, and scribbled notes, his mind fully engrossed in the task at hand. He barely noticed the soft hum of conversation around him or the occasional footsteps echoing through the room. 

Derek Morgan leaned against his own desk, sipping coffee and glancing over at Spencer with an amused smirk. “You know, Pretty Boy, if you keep staring at those files like that, they might just combust,” he teased, breaking the silence. 

Spencer didn’t look up, his pen still scratching across the page. “That’s highly unlikely,” he replied absently. Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

Just then, Anderson walked into the bullpen, holding a small bundle of items. He made a beeline for Spencer’s desk, his expression neutral but he still looked slightly curious.

Without a word, he dropped the items onto the corner of Spencer’s desk, right next to a stacked pile of books. 

“This is for you,” Anderson said simply before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Spencer blinking in confusion. 

Spencer finally looked up, his brows furrowing as he took in the items now sitting in front of him. There was a small, neatly folded letter sealed with a sticker, a single flower tied with a delicate ribbon, and a tiny care package wrapped in brown paper.

His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the handwriting on the envelope.

Derek pushed off his desk and sauntered over, his smirk widening. “What’s this? Secret admirer, Reid?” he asked, his tone playful. 

Spencer ignored him for a moment as he picked up the letter. He carefully peeled back the sticker and unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the words written.

The letter was filled with warmth and affection, each word carefully chosen to make him smile. You had written about how proud you were of him, how much you had missed him during his long hours at work, and how you couldn’t wait to see him again. At the end, you'd included a little doodle of the two of you holding hands, complete with a heart around it. 

Spencer’s cheeks flushed as he read, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He set the letter down gently and reached for the care package, unwrapping it to reveal a small box of his favorite tea, a bag of homemade cookies, and a tiny note that read, “For when you need a break.”

His heart swelled with gratitude and affection. You always knew exactly what he needed, even when he didn’t. 

Derek, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, let out a low whistle. “Man, you’ve got it bad,” he said, shaking his head but grinning. “The two of you are completely whipped, you know that?” 

Spencer looked up, his smile widening despite himself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, though his tone betrayed him. He couldn’t help the way his chest warmed at the thought of you, the way your gestures always made him feel seen and appreciated in a way no one else ever had. 

Derek clapped him on the shoulder, his grin softening into something more genuine. “I’m happy for you, man. She’s good for you. And hey, if she ever wants to send some of those cookies my way, I wouldn’t say no.” 

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, though he had no intention of sharing. These were his cookies, a gift from you, and he planned to savor every last one. 

As Derek walked back to his desk, still teasing him, Spencer carefully arranged the items on his desk. He placed the rose in a small vase he kept in his drawer (a gift from you, of course), set the tea and cookies within easy reach, and tucked the letter into his bag to read again later.

For the rest of the day, every time he glanced at them, he felt a little lighter.

[chimerafeathers]

the concept of intentional boredom/tedium in video games is very much a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing and i go back and forth about it in different situations. where does it work? where does it feel earned/worth the mental toll? why am i gonna play a game that is trying to make me miserable?

i can understand this not being the case for everyone (ymmv, after all) but for ISaT i was so fucking fully on board with the repetitive tedium of it all. rubbing my grubby little hands together and going yesssss, yesssssss, make my immersive gameplay experience directly emulate the exact frustrations and anxieties and mind-numbing breakdowns of the player character. remind me, at every turn, the toll this would take on the person living it. make me live their inner monologue before it's ever verbalized on screen.

how strong you feel, compared to the party you're inevitably leaving behind, how weak they seem now. how annoying it is to cut down these same enemies again and again, always pointlessly getting in your way (oh, how convenient that Siffrin feels the same way so intensely that you can get an item that lets him scare them off by sheer force of will before they attack you!). since when was the King's battle--so terrifying, so impossible before--so easy? can't this go faster? you've heard this all before.

let me skip ahead, loop around, treat my character my body Siffrin as disposable, take the fast and easy way to reach the next goal when you're on the verge of an exciting breakthrough, this loop doesn't matter anyway. but ohh, this next loop might be The One, better do this one right and follow the script to perfection. make all the jokes and say all the right things to get the lovely bonding dialogue so you can carry the Best Version of Everyone through to the end. that'll give you the Good Ending, right? can't hurt to try, right? you don't really believe it but this time will fix everything, right?

how generous and wonderful to have so many shortcuts at hand! dissociating zoning out to skip repetitive dialogue, splitting your head open on a rock slipping on a banana peel in the town to loop right to the floor you need, suuuuurely all of this stuff is purely for the Player's Convenience and won't have any psychological impact on our dear protagonist such that it gets slammed back into the player's face as a stomach-dropping reminder that someone's moment-to-moment experience in this time loop still matters, still carries over, still gets riddled with scars even if they can't be seen!

i've played & watched enough games that trivialize/hand-wave game mechanics that it's pretty easy to detach myself from the minutiae of video game decision-making. "this input gets the Good Response" -> "i will continue doing this input." "this option will be more efficient" -> "might as well save some time then." but this game would not let me stop thinking about consequence.

picking Siffrin's favorite food makes them happy! :) it's also the option that makes Bonnie the happiest! yay! -> i keep picking their favorite food -> Siffrin gradually grows sick of something that once brought him joy -> oh. right. that...makes sense, huh.

okay i asked the King what i needed, mann there won't be any tears after the fight is over so i'll have to do the whole ending scene again and that takes a while and i reeeeally wanna talk to Loop, maybe i'll just lose on purpose this time -> OH. RIGHT. THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST PAINFUL WAY FOR SIFFRIN TO DIE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY HUH. -> never gonna do that again actually!!!!! the ending isn't that long!!!!

banana peel time! we've got places to be and mysteries to solve! -> (you're a living comedy sketch.) (you wonder if you'll ever be able to smell bananas again without wanting to vomit.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

it's always cute to see Isabeau's reactions! pick the options that make him blush :3 -> (disgusting. manipulative. it's no wonder he thinks he likes you, you made him feel that way.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry siffrin NO he liked you before any of this happened please don't think of yourself that way--

maybe it won't hit the same for every player (what game can expect to do that?) but holy fuck it hit for me. the way the mechanics let you fall into familiar gamey rhythms but constantly, constantly remind you that this is Siffrin's life you're playing with. the way you end up perfectly in step in the worst ways. muscle memory and habit built up so well that you both stumble when something changes. devastating and delicious

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sparkle in my Eye 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Syverson and Gem.

Summary: there's more growing in the garden than flowers.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Oh, I’m just getting ready—yeah, yeah, we can go tonight.” Her voice trickles down from the open doors of her balcony. 

Sy wipes a sheet of sweat from his brow and snips another thick stem with the pruners. He nearly catches the fingertips of his thick gloves. He’s working off of instinct rather than focus. He’s entwined in her conversation, though the other side he only catches pieces. 

“Ew, Margo, please, you know I'm not doing that. The kind of guys that take you home aren’t what I’m looking for,” Gem scoffs and sets something down. “Oof, I cannot get my hair to behave!” 

“You look fine,” the muffled response comes from her phone speaker. 

He knows she does. She always looks perfect. He pulls away a dried out stem and drops it in the clutter. It’s a nice day out but the sun is burning through his shirt. It’s like fire on the back of his neck. He pauses to adjust his hat and looks up. 

He sees her shadow looking off the balcony. The house is just as immense as the yard. His work takes at least a day but he can’t complain; her father overpays him for what he does. Who wouldn’t? With a house like this? A family? You’d want it all to be kept just so. 

“Ugh, don’t be a bitch,” Gem sneers. “It’s my car, I can take it when I want--” 

“Yeah, but daddy--” 

“Do you even want me to come over?” She snips. 

He laughs but not loud enough to be heard. She has some fire and her friends deserve that. They're all spoiled. She is too but she’s not like them. 

She closes the doors. Good. She forgets to do that sometimes and from the right angle, anyone could see in. If they knew the gate code, they could even get in. 

He shoves the snipped ends and dead bits in a compost bag. As he rolls the edge, she comes out. He keeps her in his peripheral but doesn’t look directly at her. She waves. 

“Is my dad gone?” She asks. 

“Em, yeah, think he left a while ago,” he peeks over at her. He takes off his cap and wipes his face on his arm. 

“Oh, it’s very hot. I should’ve brought you some water,” she tuts. “Anyhow, I’m on my way out. Looks nice out here.” 

“Thanks, miss,” he says. 

She smiles at him, “Sy?” She asks, hands on her hips. 

“Yes, miss?” 

“How does my hair look?” She turns to show him all of it. His eyes dart down to her checkered skirt. Quickly, he lifts them back to her face. 

“It looks very nice,” he assures her. It always does.  

“Aw, thanks, Sy,” she shimmies. “Well, have a good day. I’ll see ya next week.” 

She dances off in her platform heels and digs in her purse to find her keys. The white mercedes beeps and unlocks and she takes her time getting everything sorted. Purse in the passenger, pink leather knapsack in the back.  

She’s finally in. She backs up and the gates open at the push of her button. She swerves around and drives through. He watches until she’s gone. He just needs to clean up anyway. 

He leaves an hour later. He leaves his truck at home. It’s too obvious. He takes the pontiac in his garage instead. The pet project put together from his fruitful business and scavenging in junk yards. He drives past Margot’s and parks a block down. 

There’s a place around here where he does the hedges. They have a nice tree in the back too. It’s not exactly cozy and a bit of an effort but he gets to the top and perches between the branches. He’s been trying to cut weight but he’s always been on the thicker side. 

He can see almost right into Margot’s room. Gem is there. She has a glass bottle with bright pink liquid inside. He doesn’t think she should drink so much or so early but that’s why he keeps an eye on her. 

The girls eventually head out. He follows them to the mall. He eats while they waste time at that makeup shop. They come out and he gives them a bit to get ahead of him. He’s tired but he doesn’t have any other jobs to do. 

Dinner at a fancy place that demands ties and jackets sees him scrolling on the Discord. A few of the other men say they made progress, whatever that means. Some of those guys are a bit off. Especially that Cole fellow. Clumsy, to boot. 

After, the girls go down the street to a flashing marquee. They head into the bar without being stopped. The pretty ones never have trouble. He waits an hour, restless, then goes in after them. 

He trawls the place. He finds her. She’s got another drink. A bad habit. He nearly drowned in the stuff after he got back from serving. She’s young, she’ll learn. 

A man approaches her and Margot. He’s up on Gem before she even notices. She grabs his hand and moves it away from her hip. The other girl giggles. It’s obvious her friend is uncomfortable but she just thinks it’s amusing. 

Gem deserves better. She deserves people who care about more than labels and credit cards. She just needs that bubble popped. One day she’ll see.  

[aangelinakii]

THE TEDDY THAT NEEDS TWO PARENTS.

— not his partner, not his lover.

summary : you're sick of this situationship you're in with tim drake. it's time for a change, and you're going to get it. one way or another.

note : mention of sexual occurances ? but it's not explicitly said it's more of like an alluded to sexual stuffs,, and also mentions of food issues and also tim is toxic !!!!!!

requested !

he's standing here, paid with his own money, throwing rubber balls at tin cans to win you a stupid teddy bear — but it's the biggest one on the shelf, so you're not too upset.

it's just... isn't this what boyfriends do? you know, for the people they're dating?

and, whatever this was between you and tim drake, it's not dating.

he throws his final ball, with a single tower of three cans left; he started with three balls, three towers, and managed to knock the first two down. if he misses this, you'll pretend to be upset, but then give him a kiss anyway as a thanks for participating.

you can't watch. your hands come to shield your eyes from the loss he's about to suffer.

ding! ding! ding!

from beside you, tim cheers and the attendant behind the stand gives a laugh. "nice one, what can i get for you?"

tim's voice grows farther away as he moves off to get the teddy bear, and you reluctantly move your hands away. he's probably just joking around to make you think he did it.

but when your eyes land on the table, which once owned three towers, you find it mostly empty, save for the few tin cans toppled to their sides. he... he did it?

you turn, and tim's coming back, his smile wide and shiny, the white stuffed teddy the same size as the length of his torso. "did you see?" he grins, holding out the bear for you, its head bobbing to the side, looking like its being held up by the scarlet red ribbon tied there. "three towers down just like that."

a surprised laugh huffs past your lips, and you have to try to pretend you're not surprised — not when it comes to tim, you shouldn't be surprised anymore.

"yeah, you were just great!" you reply, taking the bear beneath the shoulders and holding it to your side. he is really cute... or she. you should name it, but the only name you can think of is tim, and you're not sure you want to remember your new teddy by him.

seeming to mimic your action with the teddy bear, tim loops his arm around your back, pulling you snug into his side as you step away from the stand, the man stacking the towers back up again behind you. "where to next?" tim asks, squeezing the fabric of your clothes beneath his palm lightly. "i'm kind of hungry after all that throwing."

this time a real laugh comes out. "throwing? you barely threw them hard enough to kill a fly if it went past."

cheeky smile on his face, tim removes his arm to sling around your shoulders. "well, i saw a burger truck that smelled really good when we passed earlier. you up for burgers?"

"as long as you're paying." despite what could've sounded self-depricating, your tone told tim you were joking. he still squeezes your shoulder regardless.

"don't worry, i've got you tonight," he smiles, peering down at you beneath crescented eyes that come with his grin. it doesn't seem his lips are budging any time soon. "everything on me. gotham doesn't always have the carnival."

see? in this light, the purples and reds and greens flashing from the ferris wheel you tread beneath, he could be a boyfriend. the words he chooses, sure to melt your heart, if only you weren't thinking the entire time about how he could be the one to mend it.

yet he seems to break it every time.

every time he leaves your place, after spending the night in your arms, or you in his; every time he walks past you like he hasn't seen you most at your vulnerable, whether it be tears streaming down your face or stripped to your under garments. every time you're together with other people and he refers to you as his friend.

just his friend.

not his partner, not his lover. nothing of the sort.

and then he has the nerve to take you on a date to the fair like a good boyfriend would?

when you come back to your senses, you're standing next in line at the burger van tim said he wanted food from. to be honest, your appetite disappeared long ago; you can't seem to stomach food in his presence.

but he squeezes your shoulder again and smiles down at you and you think you'll ask him just to get you some fries. if you're hungry later you'll eat when you're alone.

finally the group in front moves away, and tim steps up to the cook leaning out the window, where delicious fumes of oil-soaked meats and spices of condiments are floating through. "hey! can i get a large cheeseburger, everything inside, and a pepsi max?" tim orders, and then looks down at you, the light from inside the van casting shadows on his face that make him look almost soft. almost. "you craving much?"

it takes you a minute, your mind too focused on how the light can change the way your heart beats for him; if you can't see the entire face that keeps letting you down, it seems to not think anything's wrong. "just some fries, please."

"great," tim smiles, turning back to nod at the man, and he reels his arm back from over your shoulders to dig into his pocket for his wallet. "you find somewhere while i pay, okay? i'll come with the food."

no need to tell you twice.

when you detach yourself from him, your entire side is burning with the remnants of tim drake, his casual kindness, lingering smiles, such a great contrast to how he sounded on the phone the other night when you asked him to hang out; deep sighs, long pauses. it's like he's an entirely different person.

your thoughts keep you occupied long enough to see tim return, balancing a cardboard box of loaded fries, his wrapped burger and his cup of pepsi in his arms. you found a picnic bench nearby, and purposely sat your new teddy in the space beside you so tim would have to sit opposite you instead.

maybe if you looked at him hard enough you could hate him.

tim sits down before you none the wiser. he places the food down and pokes the box of fries over to your section of the wooden table. you probably won't end up touching them, and he'll eat them all, which is fair, considering it's his money.

he begins to eat his burger like he can't read the room; not like he ever had that skill with you anyway.

still, you find it hard to believe he works alongside batman, once acting as his main sidekick — and he still can never pick up on your frustration towards him.

or maybe it's that he just chooses not to.

"tim," you say firmly, causing him to look up from his burger, but continue chewing all the while. "can we talk?"

"yeah, anything," you just about make out through his mouthful of beef and cheese and bap bun.

"can you stop eating for this?"

his chew pauses, and you can tell in the couple seconds he looks at you that he's weighing up the situation. he resumes crunching down his mouthful and places the burger down on its wrapping, swallowing his food.

now his attention is on you — fully, for what feels like the first time in months — the words feel like they're about to disappear, like you're going to back out and leave this unspoken.

no, you have to.

you have him now, you have to.

"i... guess i just want to say i'm not really sure this is," you finally say.

tim doesn't make an effort to respond, or even seem like he understands what you mean.

"like..." oh, god, here come the stupid words. "what are we?"

that seems to do it.

his lips part like he wants to say something but stopped quickly, and he flinches like you're holding your fists up at him, ready to strike, but you haven't moved, and he doesn't speak.

does he even know?

"like, i know we're friends, but it feels like we're on a date right now," you further explain, feelings hot and heavy in your chest. "and it's not like you asked me to go on a date with you, you just said let's go to the carnival, but i feel like you're treating me... i don't know. like we're actually together."

a pause.

"and you always treat me like that, except for when we're with other people, then you don't. then you act like you don't want anything to do with me at all."

his eyes have flitted down to stare at his burger, almost like he's expecting it to grow arms and legs and come to his aid.

"so i guess i just want an explanation."

seeing this as the end of your rant, tim lets out a great sigh.

he brings his hands up from beneath the table, resting his elbows on the wood and steepling his fingers, where his chin rests on the tips. he won't look at you, but he's incredibly silent, so much so that the screams and laughs of fairgoers around you seems to grow louder in the absence of his voice.

the silence alone urges you to reach out for the still-untouched box of fries, and you pull it towards yourself, reaching in for a salty chip, eager to pass the time until he dare speaks.

you've stopped counting how many chips you've eaten when you can make out his voice over the round of screams as the rollercoaster zooms past.

"i'm sorry," is all he says, but you push the box of fries a smidgen away, an instinctive reaction to him. you deserve to unlearn that.

your stare is hot on him, and even in the lack of daylight you can tell he's squirming under the pressure.

"i shouldn't be dragging you along," he continues sheepishly, avoiding your eyes like his life depends on it. "i... i suppose it's just easier to be like this than to man up and actually ask you. and you've shown me you'll just... god, this is horrible."

"no, tell me," you answer almost immediately. "tell me so i can do better. i don't want to be stupid."

"you're not—" the ghost of a smile dances along his lips. "you're not stupid. it's my fault, not yours at all in this. i was being selfish, taking advantage of what i could get. and what i could get was you, i suppose."

even though he's being honest, which you want, you can't help but feel a twang in the pit of your stomach.

"you do like me, though, right?" you ask him before you can stop yourself. you sound like a child, but you can justify it by reminding yourself of all the mixed signals he's been giving you the past few months.

this is what causes that small smile to widen, show the truth of his feelings, heart to spill out all over the table. he gives a small nod, like he can't believe he's doing it, and gingerly places a hand on the table, palm facing up.

he takes a small breath, words uncertain as he speaks next. "i totally understand if you get up right now and choose to never see me again — like, i really, really get it — but... i don't know, i really like you, i think i just need to unlearn some things about myself. would you, i don't know, stay around and teach me better?"

now is the time his eyes finally meet yours, and he's leaning ever so slightly across the table towards you. should you do it?

"i know i was stringing you along, but i don't think i waited for a minute to actually think about what i was doing."

even though every pang of sadness and ache from the past five months is telling you not to, something stronger behind your ribs is telling you to take his hand.

and so you take it.

"this bear is gonna need two parents," you muster up the courage to say, a bashful smile shining through.

tim even grins — something you're not used to being because of you — and he stands up slightly to lean into you, his hand still gripping yours, but the other comes to place lightly on the side of your head. a soft peck lands on your crown, possibly the softest tim has ever been with you.

when he sits back down, his free hand finds his burger again. "can i eat yet?"

"yes, you can eat," you chuckle in response.

although it's clear he's trying to hide it behind his big bite of burger, tim's grinning, and his eyes fold into soft crescents. "so, does this mean i'm your boyfriend?"

"it fucking better, you dick."

the words are harsh but your tone is sweet, spoken alongside a smile that causes your cheeks to hurt.

[chosaraki]

What would it be like if they took care of Jinrang's little daughter?

—————————————————————————

Baek Sang:

Baek was sitting in the main room of the Jinrang residence, reviewing some papers when a loud sound echoed through the mansion. He sighed heavily, already knowing exactly whose fault it was.

Jinrang's daughter.

He got up calmly and walked through the corridors, finding a trail of destruction. Torn cushions, misaligned paintings and a broken vase on the floor. In the middle of all this, there she was - neutral expression, hands in her pockets, staring at the wreckage as if nothing had happened.

- What happened here? - Baek Sang asked, his voice cold and controlled.

- The vase fell, - she replied, without emotion.

- Did it fall by itself?

- I played him.

He ran his hand over his face, exhaling patience. Despite the chaos she caused, the girl did not show any emotion. She wasn't angry, she didn't laud at her own mischief. He simply did what he wanted and continued with his monotonous expression.

- Your father left me in charge of taking care of you. That means you'll stop destroying the house, right?

She blinked slowly.

- Maybe.

Baek Sang laughed softly, a cruel and fun smile appearing on his face.

- You're definitely Jinrang's daughter.

She shrugged and walked out of the room, but he held her by the collar of her shirt.

- Where do you think you're going?

- I don't know. I'm just walking.

Baek Sang narrowed his eyes. He knew that "walking" meant more destruction.

- Listen here, plague. If it's going to cause chaos, at least do it right. Learn how to hide evidence. You are very direct, but you need to be more strategic.

The girl blinked again.

- Strategic?

- Yes. If you're going to destroy things, at least make it look like it was someone else.

She seemed to think for a moment.

- Like... make it look like it was you?

He stopped.

- Hah... So it's like that? You learn fast.

- That's what my father would do.

Baek Sang let out a low laugh. It was true.

- Okay, so, if you're going to make a mess, do it right. But if I have to clean up another of your dirt, it will be you who will help me.

She stared at him for a few seconds before giving a slight nod.

- Okay.

Baek Sang sighed and messed up his own hair, already preparing himself mentally for the next few days.

"This child-shaped demon will give me a headache..."

But, somehow, he felt... entertained.

———————————————————

Hwang Jungeak:

Hwang had already faced numerous battles, trained crew leaders, dealt with traitors and survived situations that few would achieve. However, nothing prepared him for that.

He was at the headquarters of the Jinrang Gang, finishing training some recruits, when one of the subordinates came in, pale.

- Boss... we need you in the main room.

Jungeak raised an eyebrow.

- What happened?

The subordinate hesitated before answering:

- Chief Jinrang's... daughter...

Jungeak sighed.

- What did she do now?

- Broke a table.

He snorted.

- Is that all?

- And two chairs.

He crossed his arms.

- Hm.

- And... the wall.

Silence.

Jungeak rubbed his face before going to the main room. When he arrived, he saw exactly what he expected: a scene of complete destruction and, in the center of it all, a girl of completely neutral expression, her hands in her pockets.

He crossed his arms.

- What happened?

She blinked slowly.

- I wanted to see if the wall could handle a kick.

- And?

- He couldn't stand it.

Jungeak ran his tongue through his teeth, trying to contain a smile. She was exactly like her father.

He walked up to her, placing a firm hand on her head.

- If you want to test your strength, at least do it in the right place.

She looked at him, without reaction.

- Where?

He pointed to the training yard.

- Outside. Instead of destroying furniture, destroy something useful, like recruits.

She blinked.

- Isn't this illegal?

Jungeak laughed low.

- They need to learn anyway.

The girl didn't say anything, she just nodded and started walking out of the room.

He watched her for a moment before muttering to himself:

- If this girl gets stronger, Busan won't survive.

He let out a heavy sigh and turned to the subordinates who looked at him, waiting for orders.

- You. Fix this mess.

And then, he went after her, knowing that Jinrang would not forgive him if he let his daughter cause a disaster without supervision.

——————————————————

Hyun Baekjin:

Hyun wasn't exactly the kind of person who liked to take care of children. But when Jinrang instructed him to supervise his daughter for a while, he had no choice.

He was sitting in the courtyard of the gang headquarters, sharpening his claws, when he heard a loud noise inside the building. He sighed and put away the blade, already knowing exactly what had happened.

When he entered, he saw one of the recruits lying on the floor, covered in dust, while Jinrang's daughter stood there, with her hands in her pockets, staring at the chaos around her with her monotonous expression.

- Did you throw him? - Baekjin asked, crossing his arms.

- Yes.

- Why?

- He was on the way.

Baekjin rubbed his temple.

- And did you think the best solution was to throw him around the room?

- Yes.

He looked at the recruit on the floor, who moaned in pain, and then at the girl.

- Damn... do you have a teacher or something like that?

She blinked slowly.

- My father.

Baekjin let out a short laugh.

- Yeah, it makes sense.

He approached and looked at her with a slight interest.

- Have you already learned how to use weapons?

- No.

He snapmed his fingers and pointed to one of the recruits who were watching from afar.

- Bring a training knife.

A few seconds later, a wooden knife was given to him. Baekjin held the blade and extended it to the girl.

- Let's see if you learn fast.

She took the knife without hesitation and held it in a simple but firm way.

- Now, try to hit me.

The girl didn't say anything. He just moved.

She advanced straight to him, without hesitation. His attack was raw and direct, but Baekjin deviated easily, turning to the side.

- Too direct. If one day you fight someone more experienced, it will be predictable.

She didn't react. He just adjusted his posture and attacked again.

Baekjin smiled slightly.

- Okay, maybe that's fun.

And then, he started training her. After all, if she was already causing damage now, he wanted to see what would happen when he was stronger.

————————————————

Jeagwang Do:

Jeagwang wasn't a babysitter. He was a fighter, a coach, a mentor for future warriors of the Jinrang Gang. But that day, for some reason he still didn't understand, he was in charge of taking care of the boss's daughter.

He was sitting in the training ring, watching the recruits sweating to improve their skills, when a thud echoed outside.

Silence.

The recruits looked at each other before looking at him.

Jeagwang Do let out a long sigh, already knowing who it was.

He got up and walked calmly outside, only to find a chaotic scenario: three recruits fallen to the ground, a broken door and, at the center of everything, Jinrang's daughter.

She was standing there, her hands in her pockets, staring at him with her neutral and monotonous expression.

- What happened? - he asked, crossing his arms.

- They annoyed me.

Jeagwang arched an eyebrow.

- You don't seem angry.

She blinked slowly.

- Because I'm not.

He analyzed the three men on the floor and sighed.

- Do you have any idea of the size of the mess you caused?

- Yes.

- Do you mind?

- No.

Jeagwang ran his hand over his face.

- If you're going to hit someone, at least do it right.

The girl tilted her head slightly.

- How?

He pointed to the ring.

- Go up there. I'll teach you.

She didn't hesitate. He calmly climbed the ring, still with that neutral face.

Jeagwang Do gave a slight smile, removing the bandages from his golden hand.

- Let's see what you're capable of.

He wasn't there to be a babysitter. But if it was to take care of the boss's daughter, I would do it the right way: teaching her to really fight.

—————————————————

Hashik Song:

Hashik didn't consider himself a patient person. As a mentor, he believed in discipline, focus and effort. But none of this seemed to work with Jinrang's daughter.

He looked at the gym floor. The mats were torn, the weights spread and some of the training bags were emptied. In the corner, one of the recruits was thrown on the ground, breathing heavily, clearly defeated.

And in the middle of the chaos, there she was.

With that neutral and monotonous expression, hands in their pockets, as if absolutely nothing had happened.

- ...What happened here? - He asked, his voice firm.

- He said I couldn't knock him down. So I knocked it down.

Hashik massaged his temples.

- And the rest of the mess?

She looked at the damage around.

- I don't remember.

He took a deep breath.

- You can't just go out hitting people and destroying things.

- Why?

- Because that's how it works.

She blinked slowly.

- Is that a rule?

- Yes.

- Who made this rule?

- I'm doing it now.

She was silent for a moment, then just shrugged.

Hashik Song crossed his arms.

- If you want to go out knocking people down, then at least learn to do it right.

She looked at him, expressionless.

- Will you teach me?

- Get in the ring.

She obeyed without hesitation.

Hashik Song snacked his neck, flexing his steel joint hand.

- Focus. Eyes on me.

The girl stood still, staring at him, expressionless as always.

He sighed.

- ... This will be a problem.

But if I had to take care of her, I would do it the only way I knew: turning her into an even more dangerous fighter.

———————————————

Jinrang:

Jinrang was not a man who showed concern easily. He trusted his subordinates, he knew they were strong and loyal. But when it came to your daughter... things were different.

He had left her with the best fighters in his gang - Baek Sang, Hwang Jungeak, Hyun Baekjin, Jeagwang Do and Hashik Song. Men who could crush anyone.

And even so...

When he entered the room, he saw Baek Sang sitting on the floor, massaging his temples with an angry expression. Hwang Jungeak crossed his arms, staring at a destroyed punching bag. Hyun Baekjin looked exhausted, leaning against the wall, while Jeagwang Do and Hashik Song discussed "adequate training for destruction".

In the center of all this, her daughter was sitting on a pile of dropped weights, with the same neutral expression as always, holding a glass of juice.

Jinrang raised an eyebrow.

— ...What happened here?

Baek Sang snorted.

- This girl happened.

Hwang Jungeak sighed.

- She knocked down half of the recruits.

Hyun Baekjin grumbled.

- She's like a natural disaster with a monotonous expression.

Jeagwang Do crossed his arms.

- At the very least, she has potential.

Hashik Song just looked at her, shaking his head.

Jinrang let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

- As problematic as I imagined.

He walked up to his daughter and messed up her hair.

- Did you have fun?

She blinked slowly.

- Maybe.

Jinrang smiled.

- Let's go home.

Without hesitation, she got up and followed him, without looking back.

The subordinates were silent, watching the two leave.

Baek Sang sighed.

- Next time, it's better to leave her with Jinrang himself.

Hwang Jungeak agreed.

- I agree.

Hyun Baekjin grumbled.

- My body also agrees.

Jeagwang Do just laughed.

Hashik Song crossed his arms.

- I'm still going to turn her into a decent fighter.

They didn't know if this was a promise or a threat.

——————————————

The personalities and

information of each of them came:

@immortalityforthegoddess

………………………………………………………..

[mywomankatarina]

"𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭"

Katarina x f! civilian reader - 𝗔𝗿𝗰���𝗻𝗲

𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 -

You never thought an assassin like Katarina would take interest in a simple civilian like you. But somehow, she keeps showing up—whether it's at your shop, your home, or in the middle of the night, bleeding on your doorstep. And somehow, against all odds, you find yourself falling for the deadly woman who claims she doesn’t need love.

The first time you meet her, she nearly gives you a heart attack.

It’s late. The shop is closed. You’re sweeping the floors when the front door creaks open, despite the locked sign hanging on the handle.

You whirl around, heart pounding. "We’re closed—"

And then you see her.

She’s leaning against the doorframe, breathing heavily, red hair clinging to her face. There’s a gash on her arm, blood soaking into the dark leather of her outfit.

"Gods," you breathe, dropping the broom and rushing toward her. "You’re hurt—"

"It’s nothing," she grunts, but the way her legs wobble tells you otherwise.

You barely manage to catch her before she collapses.

You don’t ask questions that night. You just do what needs to be done—clean the wound, stitch her up, offer her a drink of water.

She watches you the entire time, her sharp green eyes tracking every movement.

"You’re awfully calm for someone who just found an assassin bleeding in their shop," she murmurs.

You glance up at her. "You don’t seem like you’re here to kill me."

A smirk tugs at her lips. "Not tonight."

You roll your eyes and go back to wrapping the bandage around her arm. "Lucky me."

The second time she shows up, she’s perfectly fine. No wounds. No blood. Just an assassin standing in your shop like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

"Why are you here?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Katarina shrugs. "You fixed me up. I figured I owed you."

You blink. "You’re here to repay me?"

"Something like that." She glances over the shelves of herbs, trinkets, and handmade goods. "What do you sell here, anyway?"

"Potions, tonics, some enchanted charms."

"Huh." She picks up a small amulet, examining it between her fingers. "Anything to ward off assassins?"

"Not yet," you say dryly.

She smirks. "Shame."

After that, she keeps coming back.

Sometimes she buys things. Sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she just leans against the counter, watching you work, like she finds amusement in your mundane life.

You don’t know why she keeps coming back, and you don’t ask. Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s boredom. Or maybe—just maybe—she’s just as drawn to you as you are to her.

But you’re careful. You don’t let yourself fall. She’s dangerous. You know better.

Or at least—you thought you did.

The night she kisses you, you realize you were doomed from the start.

It happens so fast, you barely register it—one moment, she’s standing in front of you, arguing about something, and the next, her lips are on yours, warm and insistent, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You freeze. Then melt.

Her hands cup your face, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss. She kisses like she fights—intense, unrelenting, deadly. And you—foolish, foolish you—kiss her right back.

When she finally pulls away, her breath is uneven, her forehead resting against yours.

"I shouldn’t be here," she mutters.

"Then why are you?" you whisper.

"Because I can’t seem to stay away from you."

She exhales. Then, with a soft, almost reluctant chuckle, she presses a final kiss against your lips.

Author's note - Sorry this was so short, I couldn't think of anything. Btw, thanks who send this request, I really wait for you guys to request something. I'm glad you like my stories. And request was still open.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

love the idea of being a controversially young gf for roy 🤭

Omg YES this is one of my favorites for him (even though I'm coming up on 30 and am officially out of the controversial range 😭)

Spotting Roy at a bar and having your girlfriends egg you on to go say hi to the man you all grew up watching on the telly (and, admittedly, your first crush ever).

Flirting with Roy heavily, watching him slowly let his guard down until he finally blurts out the one thing he'd been thinking since you approached him "How old are you anyway?"

Batting your eyes at him innocently and purring, "Old enough for you to buy me a drink."

One drink turning into two turning into him bringing you home for what he chalks up to a hookup, something for you to brag about to your friends.

But fuck it, he decides as he watches you get dressed the next morning. He likes you. He surprises himself and asks to see you again. And- another surprise- you smile and say yes.

When he picks you up for your date, you're surprised to find him at your front door, not texting you from the car like most of the guys you go out with; it's sweet. Roy Kent is sweet.

It goes well. Really well, actually. Roy finds himself laughing at your jokes and smiling at your pretty face and having a damn good time. Hell, at the end of the night he brings you home, again. And asks you out, again.

But then, the next day, he sees the photos some papps had snapped of the date. And sees the comments people made, calling you a golddigger, calling him a creep. And it's almost enough to stop him from going out with you anymore.

Almost.

Because every time he thinks he needs to break things off, you surprise him. You buy him that book he'd been looking at weeks ago. You make him his favorite meal after a bad match. You don't muss at all when he needs to cancel plans to take care of Phoebe. You're good to him.

And you don't let the press bug you either. You roll your eyes when they call him old enough to be your dad, joking "Guess you don't have to be a father to be a DILF, babe." When they call you Roy's "little plaything" you smirk and tell him "How do they know what you call me in bed?"

Your nonchalance has Roy feeling better, relieved that you keep your chin up, encouraging him to do the same.

And oh, don't get Roy started on the bedroom. Even with those million one night stands, he's working his ass off to keep up with you. He finds himself in the weight room more often, wanting to get back the physique he had while he was still playing, plus wanting to make sure he's got the stamina for you.

Of course, all Roy's training does is make him more irresistible to you, creating a cycle neither of you minds too much.

The only thing Roy actually minds about the whole thing is when you go out with the team and you get misidentified as one of the player's girlfriends. (It's even worse if it's Jamie.)

Of course, when people see the way you dance close to Roy and the way you just can't keep your hands off him, there's no question whose girl you are 💙

[ami666]

summary: female reader is struggling with mental health and she can't sleep at school night so JJ comforts her.

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, crying, mental health, depression, sleepless night.

that's my situation right now (ofc without JJ so I decided to write this)

You were diagnosed with depression at the age of fifteen years old. You've been taking medication since then but it feels like they don't help you anyway.

Right now you are laying on your bed facing the ceiling. There's a boy next to you who is also laying on his back but with his eyes closed calmly breathing in and out.

Your chest is pounding and you trying to ignore that feeling but it gets so bad to the point where this pounding fills your ears and your head is starting to hurt extremely bad.

You are starting to breath very quickly and it's getting you even more stressed because you haven't felt this way for a really long time.

You tried to calm yourself down but you couldn't manage to control your breathing so you turn to the side. Face directly looking at the blond boy.

Waking him up wasn't in your business but you thought that's the only way to settle down.

You delicately put your head on his chest. More specific at his heart. You are starting to listen to the biting.

Suddenly you felt his big hand stroking your hair.

"What happened baby? Bad dreams?". He asked in whisper.

"I can't sleep." You are starting to sob feeling overstimulated with your emotions. "I-I don't know why I'm just anxious about everything and..."

"Shh... That's okay Sunny." He didn't stop stroking your hair. "Think about something nice". His lips at your temple. "Like maybe our surf trip after graduation."

"Please tell me about it" You said clinging to his shirt.

"Alright baby. We are going to be in every country we want. Italy, Spain, France, Croatia and even more. We are going to send postcards to our friends from every place we visit. I'm going to take you on real dates. But not that expensive shit. We are going to be on the beach. I will catch a fish for dinner and pick a mango for dessert. Oh, and we are going to drink the coconut water. At the night when the moon is going to be full we will be watching the stars while cuddling with each other. Maybe we will even spot a shooting star. If it's even possible I know what I would wish for. I know my wish. I already got it. It's laying just beside me."

At the sign of his last sentence you finally fell asleep still holding tight into JJ's body dreaming of your surf trip that you couldn't wait for.

JJ was watching and making sure that you were completely relaxed in your dream. He kissed your jaw and whispered to your ear. "I love you".

You said "I love you" as well but to the JJ you were dreaming of.

[ilikebigshipsandicannotlie]

Hello People of Tumblr

I have returned from my fire fighting retreat. I think it's a good job, because it looks like one of my family has nearly been kidnapped by the Hood, one has created a whole scrapyard parking his rocket, and one has had a minor encounter with a monochromatic furry creature that has now become a GDF worthy incident.

Now you know why we weren't on social media before! I've been watching them for things like this for years.

Anyway, I'm quite looking forward to watching what they do next so I'm just going to sit down with some popcorn and watch events unfold.

More on my fire fighting retreat and things I learned later. 💚💚💚

[saoirseyun]

⸝⸝ x fem reader

‹‘ 🎑 ’›— festivals

—A messy draft of hues splashed the black canvas of night into full color. Loud bangs igniting off the packs of fireworks with an uncontrollable frenzy almost, just as carefree it presents to really be as it sets off. You closely held on the slim fabric of Dazai's yukata, relaxing against the support of his shoulder—with the other lightly grasping on a simple stick of dango. Lost amidst the ray of beautiful colors, a darling reverie. "Amazing," Dazai muses. Eyeing the stunning arrange of fireworks blasting one over more then after impatiently. "We picked the bestest spot out here, [name]. I'm quite proud of ourselves." Payed no attention, with you lost in the show and only now mindlessly biting the dango in hand. If anything, it was almost like all movement were involuntary now. Dazai himself couldn't help but be the more amused. Brushing aside some baby hairs and calling out your name in a trance, "[name]? Can you hear me?" He asks. Dazai held a tighter touch to soft petite-like hands of your own. Having to now blinks a few times to catch his voice.

But if anything, it were less than a bother if there had to be one to say. Watching your eyes feast away to beholding sights of stunning, charming fireworks similarly to a few others by stand. As if moths to a flame, blush colors your cheeks adorably with a slight moment of realization. Snapping awake, kind of. "What—?"

"I was asking you something." The sleeves of his loosely folded yukata falls, "Seems like you're more into viewing fireworks, though. I'll leave you be." You blink, him turning back to the show in full focus at the boundless sparks of colors fading into the night. Its light reflect to Dazai's fair skin, having that alone to bring out his smile the best. You sigh—deciding to reciprocate such manner. How lovely...

...For once, it was nice for you and Dazai to share a quiet moment spent together. Nothing but between the enjoyment of fleeting fireworks, akin to the pace of life itself. You desperately needed one of these.

‹‘ 🎟️ ’›— dates

—It's either that he goes all out or have no plans attached throughout the whole day; only in hopes of anything interesting happens. Nevertheless, Dazai just knows how to spoil his sweet girl dearly right to the moment often. You weren't able to come into terms into telling praises so directly—despite of how the brunet might as well deservingly need to hear them at least someday. You plan to anyway. Await for the time to slip in those words through a crack of vulnerability, humming to yourself lost midst thoughts and Dazai who wonders about what was going on your head. "Someone's busy." Heartfelt touch of his finger to your forehead and you immediate to compose yourself for him.

A stutter exits your lips, desperate to not give Dazai a baffled look. "My bad, just thought about some things." The exact minute where Dazai sneaks into your apartment before Kunikida forces the man to get up on time—just to slip by watching sunrise close to the ports. Next to rushing towards an open seaside attraction nearby and hit the sweets for breakfast... The lovely, rather pleasant arrange of events. "You're always thinking, aren't you?" Dazai points out: then playfully pokes at your forehead, a snark grin.

He wasn't entirely wrong for sure yet somehow it felt more annoying than it should. Teasingly (with affection and adore) mock you about potentially pondering about himself when he's literally next to you! One bad habit, for sure. Your grip to Dazai's palm tightens.

"It's difficult enough especially with what you've done earlier at the jewelry shop."

He blinks at you, innocently, a glare to the exquisite necklace piece Dazai bought on his own spare money (from the past) before to your eyes. If not for the gift, then... "Was it wrong for me to openly say that I'd marry you?"

"...On god, let's focus on our date."

10/18 for my valentine's special masterlist -— daily clicks

@emyyy007, @emmzai, @adventurinea, @moomuzan, @skibididazai, @iams0up

[tribow]

So I watched Natsume Yuujinchou

or "Natsume's Book of Friends" for the English title.

I was pleasantly surprised by this one. It's a real nice slice of life anime. I'm writing this as of watching season 1 and I'm absolutely going to continue watching this one.

Anyway what's it about? Youkai! Easy way to hook me in immediately. If you involve youkai (or similar folklore creatures) in a story I'm immediately interested. Even so, despite my strong bias on the subject matter, I promise it's done very well.

The titular character, Natsume, is a highschooler born with the ability to see and interact with youkai. Growing up while being able to see supernatural phenomena while everyone else can't was rough for him. (If you don't know what youkai are, think of Natsume's situation like being able to see ghosts.) His parent's weren't even sure how to deal with him and sent him off to their relatives instead of raising the child themselves.

Natsume's character is defined by his isolation, but also by the few people he has met that has shown him real kindness. His current family earnestly cares about him, but he hides the fact that he can see youkai from them, as he does with everyone. He has learned that doing so will lead to isolation, but ironically hiding what he can see isolates him from other people as well.

However, Natsume's ability isn't unique to himself. His grandmother could also see youkai, and she's infamous for creating the "Book of Friends." This book contains the names of tons of youkai, and with that book, you can essentially control any youkai whose name is written in it. For a long time Natsume would have to deal with some youkai targeting him, and this was why. Having now learned that he has his grandmother's book, Natsume resolves to return the names of youkai.

Why?

Well watch the show. I could sit here and summarize it, but that doesn't make for a good review. The story....or at least season one of the story....focuses on that theme: isolation. It's not just Natsume, but many of the youkai he encounters that deal with it in their own ways. As a result, each episode ends on a pretty bittersweet note.

Isolation comes in many forms; loss, rejection, protection, selfishness, resentment, and much more. People, and in this case, youkai experience it in many ways, but instead of wallowing in its own despair, this anime focuses heavily dealing with it positively.

I appreciate this anime's willingness to show very sad situations and the characters involved are pretty mature about it. I can imagine this anime helping actual people deal with their own struggles with isolation.

Now, that's not this anime's only theme. It would be fairly shallow if that's all it had to say. You got some action, comedy, and drama here or there. There's some nice character development going on as well. I really like how the show is written overall.

I wouldn't say its at a "masterpiece" quality since there are definitely some jumps in logic that happens sometimes. It definitely makes some poor excuses to set up certain scenes, but I can't complain too much. These issues only show up for a few episodes.

Speaking of the episodes, they're all self-contained. There's a linear narrative of course, but every episodes concludes itself and does not inform what happens in the next episode. This made it strangely hard to binge for me since there isn't a hook to keep you watching. I loved the show, but each episodes ends on such a satisfying note I want to do something else and come back to it later. Weird.

Anyway, Brain's Base was animating this one! Y'know these guys really take on a wide variety of stuff huh? Natsume is an interesting one since it's both very laid back and has some action. I wouldn't say Brain's Base went particularly crazy here, but you can see the effort put into a lot of shots. The animation looks good, but it's humble. Nothin real fancy going on, but the visual direction does a great job at conveying this story.

I have a feeling this is one of the shows Brain's Base is proud of, and it's successful too! This anime goes on for several more seasons and I'm pretty excited to keep going with it.

What's real crazy is that I've never heard anyone talk about this anime before. This is good! Real good! I highly recommend this to anybody, even if you have never seen anime before. It's rare that I get to say that because there's usually some caveat to an anime that makes it hard to recommend to anybody, but there's nothing to worry about here! It's good, great even.

Maybe it just couldn't reach a large western audience. It is dealing with youkai after all. That's a shame, but hey, it doesn't mean you can't watch it now! Give it a try!

[plushri-moved]

I made fun of supernatural for refusing to end and degrading into barely watchable nonsense too much, I take it back, I would love it for a modern TV show to make it to 15 seasons