#gonna have to figure out what the point of that one is

[bengals-barnesbabe]

My Type

~ a blurb I came up with at 3:33 am

TW: suggestive fluff & not exactly a blurb

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ✳︎ 𓏸 ˙₊ ❊ 𓈒 𓇬 ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

Hard Knocks, the show surround your favorite team that has either become the bane of your existence or an absolute treasure. Either way, one clip of your personal friend, Joe Burrow, driving a golf cart has yet to leave your mind.

The golf cart itself wasn’t special. Nor were the practice outfits of the four players riding in it. It was just Joe. And the way he drove it.

It was carefree, fluid, and almost too much. Not too much for him, obviously; you haven’t seen anything that’s been proven to be too much for him. It was too much for you.

He just looked so soft. Warm Bengals beanie atop his blonde curls with only the pink-tinted flesh of his earlobe poking out. His strong arms covered a black long-sleeved tee. It was cute.

What wasn't cute was the way his thick thighs filled his grey pants to the point that you could see each muscle in his long legs. Or his defined jawline and cold-flushed cheeks that sit on the border between just hot and ridiculously hot.

You'd never felt this way about the quarterback. In the years of knowing him and being friends, it never crossed your mind that Joey Burrow was seductively handsome. He'd always been handsome but like a picture-perfect handsome. You could tell why he was a heartthrob; you just never felt the intense heart-pumping yourself.

Then you watched him lick his lips while reversing a golf cart, slide his left hand into his pocket, and drive off with one hand on the wheel.

One simple act after another, but done in a sequence with all the additional factors to create a moment that had you dumbstruck.

Dumbstruck and questioning every interaction you'd had with him as you watched the 12-second clip over and over and over again. One video cannot change how you see someone you've known for years with such ease.

And you were right. It wasn't just the Hard Knocks clip; it was the many saved videos of him mic'ed up on your phone, the overwatched and much-appreciated clip of his 47-yard rushing touchdown, the infamous Body Armour ads, the Bose ads, the Alo clip of him just running that take up space on your iPhone 14 Pro and show no sign of being deleted.

You thought you were in the clear because you never saved the videos or edits of him being outwardly seductive and hot. No photos of him shirtless or with sweat dripping down his beefy body as he works out. No, you started away from them, always at arm's length with items of temptation.

Or were you?

"What are you watching?" His deep timbre causes you to throw your phone in the most guilty manner. You both watch wide-eyed as it bounces on the carpet until it's thankfully faced down in the middle of his living room.

Joe turns to you, his face growing red as he holds back his laugh. "Was it really that bad?" He asks, releasing his giggles hostage.

Instead of responding, his cute chuckles fill your ears and warm your heart, making it thump just a little bit harder. Because since when was his laugh so cute?

The sound of your name flowing off his pink, pouty lips and the way your heart skips a beat brings you back to the present.

"Huh?"

"Huh? That's all you can say?" He smirks, looks down at the phone, then at you, then back to the phone.

The next thing you know, you're both diving for the phone. It's almost comedic how panicked your face looks compared to him as he swipes your phone and turns it over like buried treasure. All the dramatics just to see his face fall because you have auto-lock on, which is the biggest feeling of relief off your shoulders.

"I was so close." He sighs.

"Sorry, Joey Wheels, you just weren't fast enough." You chuckled taking the phone from his outreached hand.

He chuckles lightly, "You know, I am gonna figure out exactly what had you so awestruck." As another stroke of luck, his phone starts ringing. "Just not today."

~ Night of Broncos @ Bengals Game ~

You were stressed but relieved following the aftermath of what that game did to you. Especially being at the stadium, it was like every minute that passed would end you. You like being kept on your toes, but not that much. As soon as the game was over and you could relax, you got a simple text from Joe.

MVP: stick around, let me drive you home

It was innocent; it wouldn't be the first time he's given you a ride home after a game, and it probably wouldn't be the last. You always preferred public transport because of how close you live to the city, so his offer was out of pure generosity.

But why did such a simple text reignite that same anxiety and tension as you had during the game?

Was it because of these confused feelings you've kept in for a week?

Or the potential conversations that could be had over the 10-minute ride?

Then you thought back to his pregame fit and visibly shivered, but it had nothing to do with the slight chill in the stadium.

Joe walked into this stadium into the stadium in an all-black outfit: simple black jeans, black sneakers, a brown and black checkered bottega jacket, and one of his signature black shades. He looked the most fuckable, you have ever seen him- and this was after his slim shady tank top look.

Now you're imagining sitting next to him in his sleek Porsche, his jacket unzipped to the middle of his chest, definitely exposing his sexy-ass idea not to wear a shirt underneath it. But that's not even the worst part; you can keep yourself calm enough by just not making eye contact.

No, the worst part is now, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the shades sit on his head, and his fucking hand is inches away from your thigh.

Your exposed thigh, because after hearing how nice the weather would be for the game, you decided to put on some heavily distressed black skinny jeans. His fingers are practically causing their own electrical current as they graze your soft brown skin. And to top it off, he's wearing his signature smirk.

Because he always knows exactly what he's doing and how to get a reaction out of you.

"Out with it, Bur- His hand slips, and he grasps your thigh during a sharp break at a red light, then he looks over at you.

"Sorry about that," He smiles, lying through his perfectly pearly teeth. "Didn't want anything to happen to you, pretty girl."

You stared at him in pure disbelief. “You did that on purpose.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because you know something.” He looks away, but you catch the light chuckle he lets out. “I don’t appreciate you torturing me just because you don’t feel the same way.”

“I never-

“You didn’t have to, just-

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. Here you are, sitting at a red light, surrounded by the oddly quiet city, with Joe’s pillowy soft lips melting against your own.

When he breaks away, the light is green but the only thing moving is his hand against your cheek.

“I do feel the same way. I always have. It’s you who’s been taking over a year to figure it out.” He says softly brushing his thumb over your lips.

You lean in almost closing the distance between you. “I really like you, Joe.”

The light turns red again, effectively blending with the bright blush across his face. “Thank god, cause I’ve been dressing like a complete slut to games trying to get your attention. I was debating just showing up to your place just sweaty and shirtless.”

The car turns into a bubble of laughter as you lean back against the window trying to clam yourself down with the coolness from the outside. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride. You’re watching the city lights pass by while he drives safely down the streets, slow enough because he knows how much you love the view and so he can unashamedly glimpse over at your beauty.

Minutes later you’re walking hand in hand up to your apartment. “You know…” You bite back a smirk as you reach the door.

“What?” He raises a brow, pulling your hand to his lips.

The simple act warms your skin in a way he wouldn’t be able to notice unless you were grinning like a fool. Which you were.

You can’t help but giggle your next words out. “Your plan of showing up sweaty and shirtless would’ve worked too.”

He lightly scoffs with a timid smile on his face. “Same goes for you, princess. If I had known me driving one handed turned you on so much… well you wouldn’t have thrown your phone across the room a few weeks back.” He smirks cupping your jaw and placing a light kiss on your forehead.

“You’re such a tease.”

He chuckles darkly, tilting your head and leaning down until you’re sharing one breath. “That’s the whole point, sweetheart.”

⤜♡→

main masterlist

[maiamore]

MILE HIGH CLUB

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 3.3k

Summary: Joel has to fly out of state for the first time in his life and his nerves are frayed. Luckily, he finds a good distraction. You.

Tags: m!receiving oral, deep throating, public indecency, mention of drug use, blowjob on a plane basically, alcohol consumption, nervous old man joel 

A/N: maybe i’m just into exhibitionism atp  MASTERLIST

Like every other man, Joel Miller had his kryptonite. 

It wasn’t the idea of never finding someone to settle with, despite countless attempts—he had his fair share of awkward dates and mind-fucking-numbingly repetitive conversations about his favourite colour was. 

And sure, it could have been having to deal with empty nest syndrome after Sarah moved out of state for college. The loneliness came as a cold wash, but he kept busy enough to avoid spiraling down the rabbit hole of a quiet home. Babysitting for Tommy or tending to work troubles was a rickety solution at best. 

But no, that wasn’t enough to rattle the man. 

It was the very fact that he was hours away from having to sit in a “flying death machine” as he eloquently phrased it, just so he could visit his daughter. 

Joel had successfully gone forty one years of his life dodging air travel. The thought of sitting in a metal contraption, being flung through the skies made him stomach churn. He couldn’t care less about how safe it chalked up to be. A car? He could control. Walking? Reliable. 

A plane? Definitely not. A paper airplane for grown-ups, that’s all it was. 

The glaring fluorescent lights, nauseating sound of suitcases and tearful goodbyes wasn’t doing him any favours. Least of all the sleaze bag at the counter, who hadn’t even spared more than a couple seconds. Being seven hours early was overkill, but he’d figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Can’t let ya in yet. Come back in a few hours.”

A litany of curses left unsaid under his breath about “dumb rules” and “what’s the point of gettin’ here early if yer just gonna make me wait?” 

He shuffles out of the line with the creaky luggage he had with him, finding himself a seat by the waiting lounge next to a girl reading from those gizmos he’d seen Sarah use last Thanksgiving. A scowl crept up his face.

Christ. Did they have to invent some gadget for reading, too? Wasn’t that free?

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small black leather bound book. It was worn, the edges were scuffed and the pages slightly dog-eared—a testament to its’ use.

Licking the pad of his thumb, he flips through the pages. There in black ink, lay a list of instructions he prepared prior to coming here. Misspellings here and there—chicken scratch, really. 

1) checkin n’ give bags to airport 

“Already screwed that one up,” he mutters out loud, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the growing aches. 

2) go to gate no. on tikket

Joel peels out the airline pass tucked into his passport and squints at the printed words. “Christ.” He clicks his pen and painstakingly copies the details into his notebook in block letters big enough to read from across the room. “Tiny ass fuckin’...printin’...”

“Don’t travel much?”

Your voice breaks through the haze of uncertainty that had been plaguing him. Joel doesn’t offer more than a quick glance at first, his grip tightening slightly around the pen in his hand.

When he does look at you. You’d made him do a double take. 

Despite the sorry state of his dating life–or maybe because of it–Joel wasn’t immune to the kind of attention a pretty thing like you could command. Even if it was just your attempt to be polite. His gaze then falls in disdain to your kindle laying abandoned in your lap.

“Not really, darlin’,” he says, his voice low and rough, with just enough warmth to take the edge off his typical gruffness.

Joel wasn’t big on small-talk, so when silence settled between you both, he didn’t feel the need to fill it. He wasn’t entirely sure why your presence had eased his nerves, even just a fraction, but it had.

And then you spoke up again, your tone uncertain but laced with quiet hope.

“There’s a lounge in the back with a bar,” you begin, tipping your head towards it. “Might be more your speed.”

Joel follows the motion with his eyes, then huffs a breath that sounds almost like a laugh. “Man after my own heart,” he tucks his notebook back into his pocket.

Maybe it wasn’t all too bad that your dad dropped you off at the airport hours too early.

When you’d first seen Joel, you’d nearly dropped your kindle. The heavy thud of his boots on the polished floor caught your attention. You slowly pulled your gaze upward–from the worn blue jeans to the faded grey t-shirt that did nothing to hide his strong forearms. His dark brown curls looked like they’d been through more than their fair share of rough mornings, but god did you want to run your fingers through them.

And then there was his scruffy beard–uneven in an endearing way that somehow made him even more pleasing to the eyes.

You blinked, forcing yourself to look back at your screen, but the words blurred into nothingness. The way he sat stiffly on the chairs he made seem so small, down to what seemed to be a checklist for his flight.

“I’m pretty sure more people have died on construction sites than flights, Joel.” 

Joel. 

Introductions came easy the second the whiskey infiltrated his system, and damn if he didn’t he love the way his name rolled off your tongue. 

He drags a palm down his jaw, a dry scoff slipping past his lips. “This your idea of makin’ me feel better ’bout all this?” he counters, half-regretting that he’d let slip what he did for a living. 

You weren’t wrong, of course–he’d faced far more dangerous situations on the ground than he’d ever likely encounter in the air.

Still, it didn’t help.

“I ain’t sayin’ m’gonna piss my goddamn pants,” he muttered, shifting in his seat. “Just makes me feel queasy, s’all.”

Joel sighs into the crystal glass, thumb idly tracing the rim as if the whiskey might’ve given him some courage. When he glanced your way again, you were watching him with that look–the one that made him feel exposed and oddly at ease all at once.

He shot you a faint glare, more bark than bite, and nodded toward your drink.

“Drink your goddamn kiddy juice,” he grumbled.

Your lips curled up into a slight scowl, cupping your glass of bellini defensively. Despite your show of annoyance, you did feel a tinge of empathy for him. For crying out loud, he was hunched over the goddamn bar seat, looking at his empty glass like a kicked puppy like he was about to go for a vasectomy or something.

Gesturing towards the bartender for a refill of his glass, you dragged your bar stool closer to him.

“Look. If you’re up for it. I’ve got a little pick-me-up I take to settle my nerves before a long flight,” you said, fishing a small pill container from your bag. “Works like a charm.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed, his interest piqued despite his better judgement. But the second you popped open the lid, his reaction was instant.

“Hard pass.”

“You don’t even know what it–”

“I ain’t about to get drugged up,” he cut in, folding his arms. Your eyes shamelessly trace over the way the sleeves tightened around his biceps. “And besides, I hardly know ya.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line and without missing a beat, you tipped one of the white pills into your palm and dry swallowed it like a pro. Joel’s brow furrowed deeper, his disapproval practically radiating off him. Though that notion had him adjust his jeans discreetly.

“Well, it’s your funeral,” you said with a shrug. Then realizing how that might’ve come across, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Figuratively speaking! Not literally–”

“Gimmie that damn thing,” Joel huffed, snatching the container from you. He popped the pill into his mouth and chased it with a gulp of whiskey, muttering something under his breath about regrettin’ this already.

You leaned back in your seat, a sly grin tugging at your lips. “You didn’t even ask what it does.”

Joel fixed you with a hard glare, the kind that could silence most people. But you weren’t most people.

“It also gives you a raging erecti–”

“Sweetheart.” Joel’s warning tone cut you off, his glare piercing.

You couldn’t help it–you laughed anyway, the sound earning a reluctant lop-sided smirk from him as he shook his head.

In all his years of living, Joel never thought he’d succumb to relying on drugs.

The idea was irresponsible at best. He’d pride himself on staying clear-headed, the occasional joint in his teenage years being the closest he’d come to experimentation. But that was a lifetime ago, a glimpse of a boy who didn’t have responsibilities or a family to think about. His body was a temple now, for at least a semi-respectable contractor.

Yet here he was, in the fluorescent purgatory of a transit hall, deciding that a four hour stint in a “metal coffin” justified drastic measures.

Your vague explanation on what that little white pill of yours was didn’t help either. You both agreed you were in this together now. He had to admit that it was ironic where life took him. Misery loved company, and you, his current “drug buddy,” were far easier on the eyes than his high school crowd had ever been.

And, well, it worked.

Joel could feel the change, his mind easing from the coiled tension it had been gripping since he set foot in the airport. His inhibitions, usually locked tighter than the pentagon, were suddenly looser. Not reckless, but freer.

If you’d thought Joel wasn’t the clingy type before, that illusion was thoroughly shattered now. He shadowed your every move, from hauling your luggage onto the conveyor belt without you even asking to tapping his card at the terminal before you could pay for yourself.

And then…there were his hands.

At first, they lingered tentatively–a brush of his palm at the small of your back, a quick touch to your arm as he gestured to something in the duty-free window. Testing boundaries. Waiting for a sign.

When you looped your arm through his without hesitation, Joel took it as his green light.

After that point on, his touches became a constant presence. Steady, warm & grounding. A hand resting lightly on your hip as you wandered through the departure hall, fingers curling against your wrist as he guided you through the crowds of travellers.

Joel fully blamed the pill for his current lapse of judgment. 

He spit into his palms, smearing the wetness onto the length of his cock. His other hand gripped firmly onto the granite counter. The dull slaps of him fucking his fist filled the small space. Along with his strained grunts. 

“C’mon, c’mon…”

Trying damned hard to focus—he thinks of you. How your body felt under the weight of his hands. The way you’d wet your lips before giving your own witty remark to his rants about shit he found ridiculous about Delta. 

And he jolts, instinctively tightening his grip around his cock when the announcement rings in the speaker above—some bullshit safety reminder. 

“Shit—…shit shit.” He mutters. Willing himself to come so he’d put himself out of his self made torture. 

Joel was rock fucking hard the second he seated himself by the back of the plane. Thoughts of the way you’d smiled up at him & rubbing his arm before heading to your seat up front was enough ammo for him to daydream about you for the next hour. 

He did think you were joking earlier. But this could very well be the side effect of whatever you’d given him. 

Nevertheless, it was pointless. The sterile bathroom was doing nothing but turning him off. 

With an annoyed sigh. He’d shucked his half limp cock back into his jeans. Thoroughly scrubbing his hands clean before he heads back to his seat.

He stops short, brows quirked at the intruder. 

“Howdy. How ya holding up.”

You grinned. Lowering the latest issue of Baseball Digest that Joel was occupied with from where it covered your face. 

“I’m—…what are you…doin’ back here.” He manages. Cursing himself for sounding way off. 

“Flight‘s pretty empty, so…Donna did me a solid.” 

Joel briefly glances up at the flight attendant that you did a little finger wave to before looking back, nudging his head to the vacant seat next to you. “Scoot over.” 

“Jesus. Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Yeah. I was. And I tried to jerk off to you too, not that it worked out. 

“So that I can be tormented for the next three hours?”

You frowned at his words. Flipping through the magazine loudly. “Someone’s panties are in a bunch.”

He exhales as he sinks into his rightful seat. Thankfully, the shock of seeing your face again did a number to deflate Junior Miller. 

The combination of turbulence and drinking two glasses of whiskey earlier was a nasty concoction. He thumbs eases the crease between his brows before finally deciding to speak, ignoring your earlier  comment. 

“Bout’ the side effect you mentioned…”

That causes you to tip your head towards him. You were silent, briefly. 

“What about it?”

“…How long does it…last.”

You looked to the side. “Just for a bit.” Though you sounded unsure of yourself. “Why?”

“Nothin’. Suppose I’m gettin’ one of those weird reactions to it.”

“Weird how.” You pressed. Though Joel looked less than pleased about your probing. “Don’t gotta explain it to ya. S’just weird, darlin’.” 

You get the memo regardless. 

“Well did you try to—“

“I did.”

“And you didn’t—“

“No.”

“You sure you were doing it correctly?”

Joel drags his hand down his face, letting out a muffled, yet pained scoff before he looks at you. He doesn’t speak yet for a couple of seconds. 

“Yes, sweetheart. I know how to fuckin’ jerk off.”

Your lips pressed into a taut line. His words stirred something deep in you, fuck if it didn’t make you want to do something stupid right now. 

“Obviously you don’t. Wouldn’t be sitting here all wound up if you had.”

Joel’s lips part to shoot something snarky your way. 

It’s quickly floored when he feels your fingertips trace past the sides of his thighs. 

You look at him. Offering him an opportunity to pull away. 

He adjusts his hips to shift lower. A firm tug on your wrist ground your palm directly onto the bulge of his jeans. 

A shaky exhale leaves his lips when you knead against his hard on. Tipping his head back onto the headrest. He lets out a soft grunt escaping his lips as you continued your ministrations. 

“Feels…real good.” He manages. Barely being able to look at you. 

Fuck. You were so warm and you smelled so good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had something that he wanted real bad.

“Told ya, not doing it right.” You leaned in close enough for your cheeks to rest against his bicep. Watching how his grip around your wrists began to falter. 

Joel’s breathing became a little more ragged as he started to become more and more pent up with each rub.

With a conspicuous sniffle, you dragged the zipper of his jeans down, earning a jolt from him. He whips his head to look at you as you maneuver his stiffened cock out of his boxers. 

Locking your gaze with his, you provide a calming kiss to the edge of his shoulder before you lower yourself. 

“Christ. Are you crazy?”

Joel lifts his gaze to scan the surroundings. Considering it was an evening flight, the dimmed overhead lighting provided a more intimate and gentle glow. 

The absence of attendants who were likely resting up front, and the emptiness of the last five rows does provide him assurance, even when it shouldn’t have. 

He lets out a hiss at a wet glob of saliva trickle down his shaft, stealing his focus once more. Followed by the softness of a smaller pair of hands pumping the wetness up and down. 

You feel a strong hand gather your hair up loosely, before the fingertips lock firmly around to hold your head in place. 

He tugs you to meet his gaze momentarily. Eyeing your soft features being reflected with the amber mood lighting. 

“Can I?” 

You bit the insides of your cheeks. Realising what he’d meant. You nod slowly, kissing the tip of his weeping cock. 

“Tap me twice if it’s t’much.”

He mutters with a gentleness that had you rubbing your thighs together, the slick wetness growing in your cunt. 

You take him into his mouth fully this time. Feeling his hips jump up involuntarily. The tug on your head encourages you to continue. 

“Ah..fuck. Fuck.”

Joel grinds his jaw at a painful intensity. The warmth and wetness of your mouth hollowing around his cockhead was intoxicating. He had to physically control himself from thrusting into your mouth too quickly. 

The noises that rumbled from his throat spurs you on. You alternate between deep sucks through your hollowed mouth and stroking his cock. Though the hand holding your head became more of a weak hold than a guide.

You caught the hesitance in his actions. Treating you so damn gently as though you would break. It frustrated you, so you abruptly lowered yourself until you practically swallowed him whole. Nose grinding against the denim. 

It catches the both of you off guard. 

Joel, nearly lets out a fucking groan at the warmth of your throat convulse around his cock. And you, with your thumb digging into your fists to control your gag reflex. 

That was enough for Joel to snap. 

His grip around your hair goes taut. “Tap me.” He reminds, before he properly fucks his cock into your throat at an almost brutal pace. 

You choked for a couple of seconds, the warm tears pricking your eyes as you gripped tightly over his thigh—essentially uses your mouth as his personal fleshlight. 

Letting out strained grunts as he quickened his pace, you taste the salty mixture of your tears and saliva. Joel doesn’t let himself go just yet, keeping the rational part of him awake in case you couldn’t take it, which in fairness—most women couldn’t. 

But you? You took it like a fuckin’ champ. 

You pulled away from his cock with a pop, letting a string of saliva follow as you dragged your lips down to his balls, giving one of them a sloppy suck as much as your mouth could fit before taking his cock into your throat. 

Joel shudders at the sensation, It doesn’t take long before his hips stutter, spurting his hot, thick come into your throat. 

He pulls you off him with a gentle tug, catching sight of your tear stricken face, lips pouty and reddened. 

Joel groans at how pretty you looked like this. 

He glances towards the bathroom behind them and back at the serenity of the moonlight illuminating inside the plane as he hastily tucks himself back in. 

With a firm hold, he hoists you up underneath your arms to guide you into the cramped stall with him. 

“You okay, honey?” He practically whispers. Thumb swiping the strands of your hair that stuck to your sweaty cheeks, tucking them behind your ears. 

“Y…eah.” You managed. Voice coming out raspy. His dark brown gaze held nothing but concern for you. 

A lazy smile graces your features. You stabilise yourself with Joel’s arms. He doesn’t hesitate as he leans in to lock his lips with yours. 

“We can go back. Or continue. Whatever you want.” The gentle curve of nose comes to rub against your cheeks, though you could tell by the twitch of his cock that he was far from done. 

You bit down on your lips. Hands travelling lower to let the sharp sound of Joel’s buckle give you the answer he needed. 

As you flip over to lean against the counter with your palms flat on the granite—your cheeks presses against your shoulder to gaze up at him through your lashes. 

“By the way…that pill I gave you? Just Vitamin C.”

[fuck-customers]

i love when the resident kitchen idiot that everyone hates, who everyone has been complaining about for months, who kept getting bumped between sections because he wouldn’t do the work expected of him, who only still had a job at all because we didn’t have a body to replace him with, decides to come in at 9:30a for a brunch shift drunk enough that people can smell it on him and gets fired before he can punch in.

it was our last shift before a four day weekend for thanksgiving, you couldn’t give it an extra 4-5h?

the hilarious thing is that we’ve been in a temp chef shuffle since he got hired and every. single. one of them. has immediately fucking despised this guy. the first chef (who hired both me and the kitchen idiot) had probably the lowest standards of quality for our style of venue and would put up with a lot more bullshit than was definitely reasonable but left to go start his own restaurant. then it was our sous chef (who had been hired shortly before me) who would baby him through everything like he’s helping a pre-k’er figure out his letters and left to get his trade journeyman’s—leaving me as the person with the longest tenure in this kitchen and foisting the idiot onto me as his “trainer.”

thing is, i do not have the patience to train someone who refuses to be trained. if i can tell at a glance that it’s not simple misunderstanding due to language barrier, but malicious willful ignorance, i’m not gonna be fucking nice anymore. i’m gonna start actually calling out the bullshit that everyone else had been dancing around for two months prior and the more i have to repeat myself the less happy i’m gonna be and the more aware of it i’m going to make you.

the temps who came in after the sous left agreed with me btw. which included first chef’s boss and another temp. idiot got himself fired less than a week in to our new permanent chef’s tenure and even HE came to me in private to ask if there was anything he could do to get the guy to give a fuck, and i just told him “there’s nothing you could say to him that nobody else already tried” which he sympathized with.

i shouldn’t have to tell you every time you slice meat that you need to wipe down, sanitize, AND reassemble the slicer AND sweep the floor under around the station afterwards as part of completing the task. i shouldn’t have to tell you every time you plate desserts that the point of the toothpick is to keep the plastic wrap OFF the cakes, so it’s not peeling up the frosting/glaze, so that it’s presentable for the customer, and thus punching a hole through the wrap to spear the toothpick through and press the wrap flush to the cake is completely counterinfuckingtuitive. i shouldn’t have to tell you every time you use the food processor that you 1. need to mix all of your ingredients in a separate bowl BEFORE trying to blend them, and 2. need to make sure the blade is in position BEFORE dumping in a bunch of shit that’s going to gum up the works otherwise. i shouldn’t have to reiterate to you and have you repeat back to me three times in quick succession that you only need to follow up to a certain step in the recipe with only a certain collection of ingredients, almost literally draw you a fucking diagram, and then turn around to find you’ve fucked it up so badly it’s clear you didn’t even look at the recipe at all and just the ingredients list (despite having made this recipe before) and have simply proceeded to waste an hour of everybody’s time and the better part of a week’s worth of product—and then fuck it up AGAIN somehow when told to redo it, so that i, AS USUAL, have to waste prep time coming back through behind you to make sure we actually have any usable fucking product.

it got to the point where he was literally turning to me and the girl who still works cold line with me and asking why we weren’t doing the tasks we (as his superiors in the section) kept assigning to him, or at least the part of the task that comprises like 80% of what needs done, and he outright told the latest temp chef that he doesn’t like being expected to do what’s asked of him when he got confronted about it. if not for the fact he got himself fired i would’ve had full clearance to tell him the next time he asked some dumb shit like that “because it’s your job, and if you’re not gonna do the work you’re being asked to do, you can clock out and go home, because otherwise why the fuck is anyone paying you to be here?”

oh well! good riddance to bad rubbish. love it when the trash lets the door hit it on the way to taking itself out.

the funniest thing was when he tried to come back in today, the first day after that four-day holiday, like he expected to still have a job. bro you came in drunk before 10am lmao you don’t have a job anymore you just have a fucking problem. and i have one less! goodbye, i wish you a very harsh wake-up call and a hearty go fuck yourself! get better soon, far the hell away from me ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney

[lunarriviera]

uts meta: two cops eating pizza cause they're not gay (The Drawing, part 2)

[spoilers for s2 in general and ep 17 in specific, and i really hope you've already watched it because, wow. it deserves to be seen.] this whole scene is off the chain but perhaps what's wildest about it is that this has happened once already! shen yi already gave du cheng a drawing! and now he's doing it again! either he wants a marriage proposal or to be [redacted], and honey, you're absolutely gonna get [redacted] tonight. even though you messed up dinner.

when our scene begins, beijiang's finest are about to dine in shen yi's concrete bdsm dungeon new house. but wait, shen yi's a terrible cook, you say? never fear—product placement is here!

glowing, radiant, suffused with light. in the troubled city of beijiang, pizza hut™ shines forth like a beacon of edible hope and justice. even if they do keep putting pineapple on top of it.

(all of s2 we've been subjected to such heavy-handed sponsorship as the team drinking exclusively some kind of fruity (?) tea (?); du cheng barking orders at xiaomi, his new car's shipboard computer while shen yi theatrically changes the cabin temperature; shen yi treating everyone to invisible air coffee (because no property person has ever figured out all you need to do is put some water in the cup); and jiang feng popping up like a prairie dog clutching a green box of cold medicine whenever anyone sniffles. but pizza hut has been the most egregious of all, truly the wolong nuts of uts2. if only dragon city had a pizza hut™! then shen wei wouldn't have had to wear zhu yilong's clothes.)

unfortunately, actors can't actually eat human food, plus shen yi's supposed to be a vegetarian, so here is tan jianci consuming the smallest molecule of pizza possible while pretending to enjoy it. pretty sure tjc last had a junk carb in the hu jintao administration.

after this brief token simulation of eating, shen yi and du cheng have a Serious Conversation about the late captain lei. pls note their blocking here, as it's the only time in s2 you will EVER see tan jianci looking DOWN at jin shijia, who is of course a giraffe.

then shen yi whips out this little baby, and hands it to his partner.

(let's hope our sketch artist had the foresight to spray some fixative on what looks like conté or pastel, before du cheng started smearing pizza grease all over it.) du cheng is, of course, touched. why are they drawn in red? not entirely sure, though it's a color shen yi seems to default to when he's very emotional and/or inarticulate about things.

anyway shen yi mentions that the piece needs a title and he hasn't thought of one yet, so du cheng volunteers a suggestion.

(at this point i started screencapping in chinese, reasons unclear.) du cheng offers 改变我人生的人, "the person who changed my life."

it's a dumb title for an artwork but GUESS WHAT, he's no longer talking about lei-dui. if you thought you might question this, jin shijia is going to make sure you don't, because of the sickeningly transparent infatuated look on his face. but wait, it gets worse!

确实是改变了我人生的人, shen yi responds; indeed, this person really did change my life. HE'S ALSO NOT TALKING ABOUT CAPTAIN LEI.

tjc doesn't want you to feel any confusion about that, so he deploys his patented shen yi gaze. here, you need to see this to believe it.

jianci has developed this little trick as shen yi of speaking with his eyes lowered, and then when he finally lifts them, it's like he's setting off a BOMB. he's fine-tuned this to the point where it's weaponized.

and honestly he's making it so obvious they're talking about each other i don't even know how to say it in human language. those two took these innocent respectable lines about a past case and made them indecent. they did that. all by themselves. no one made them.

at the end of the scene, though, it's this look. this one right here.

the absolutely unbearable tenderness. "yes, you did change it. you changed everything. nothing will ever be the same again, because of you." in conclusion: pls bury me with this, because i suspect it's the most in-love it's possible for a human being to look, outside of a wong kar-wai film BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE [runs away sobbing hysterically]

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

For the request request: Maybe jinx/sevika/ekko/isha found family slice of life sorta thing? I'm a sucker for fluffy oneshots :) 🌻

I actually love this, thanks for the suggestion!

It’s Only Preschool

“Isha!” Jinx slid into the kitchen, barely catching herself before she fell into Ekko.

“She’s still in her room.” Ekko called over his shoulder, not looking away from where he was making pancakes at the stove.

“C’mon people, we gotta go,” Sevika yelled from the door, “We’re gonna be late!” 

Jinx jogged down the hallway of their apartment, “Isha, honey, we gotta go.”

There was a sniffle from Isha’s room and Jinx slowed to a stop, opening the door to find the girl. She was curled up on the edge of the bed, picking at the hot pink, sparkly tutu she was wearing.

“Hey, kid,” Jinx sat beside her, frowning when Isha fell into her side, “What’s the matter?”

Isha shook her head, a clear indication she wasn’t going to talk. Isha had always been quiet, she hardly ever talked outside of grunts and mumbles but that didn’t stop her from getting her point across.

“You scared?” A nod against her collarbone, “I was scared too, you know. First days always seem worse than they really are.” 

Isha glanced up, questioning, so Jinx went on.

“Did you know I was scared when you first showed up?” Isha looked sad but Jinx just smiled, “I was terrified I would do something wrong, that something would happen to you or I’d mess up. But look at us now, we figured it out, right?”

Isha didn’t look convinced, she had stopped sniffling but she still clung to Jinx’s side.

“Can you tell me what you’re scared of?” Jinx asked gently.

Isha sat back, motioning speaking with her hand.

“You’re scared of talking?” Another nod, “You don’t have to talk, not if you don’t want to. Just do what you do with us, that works, right? And if anyone tries to make you, I’ll handle it.” Jinx pulled an over exaggerated mean face and Isha giggled.

“Do you think you’re ready to go? Auntie Sevika is about ready to leave without us.” Jinx held out a hand to help her down but Isha hesitated, “Ekko made pancakes.” Isha perked up, jumping off the bed and pulling Jinx with her down the hallway, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Isha was in her chair at the counter, eating fresh pancakes, before Ekko had even turned the stove off. She hummed, kicking her feet against the counter, as she ate and Jinx used the distraction to sneak a hat on her head. She only protested when she had to put on her coat but eventually she agreed to put on the jacket and get in the car.

Sevika was already waiting for them in the driver’s seat, engine running and radio on, when the three of them made it outside.

“Shotgun!” Jinx yelled for no reason other than to make Ekko sigh in annoyance as he buckled Isha into her seat.

“You always do this,” He grumbled but he was biting back a smile as he got in the back.

The drive was mostly quiet, Sevika’s trash being the only noise that disrupted the silence. When they pulled up to the building Isha held her seatbelt down, refusing to get out of the car. Sevika had to promise to buy her ice cream when they picked her up at lunch before she got out. 

The whole time they walked from the parking lot to the front doors Isha kept a death grip on Jinx’s hand, turning the already pale skin white, and Jinx shot a glance at Ekko. 

He nodded and took Isha’s other hand, “Ready for liftoff in three…two..one!” He covered his mouth with his empty hand, creating an exploding sound.

They swung their arms forward, pulling them up and taking Isha with them. She squealed and kicked her feet when she was off the ground, tugging on their arms to tell them to do it again when she touched down.

“Careful,” Sevika cut in behind them, “Don’t wanna break her before her first day.”

Isha turned around and stuck her tongue out at the woman, grinning when she feigned offense.

When they reached the front doors a lady with a clipboard and blinding smile greeted them, “Who might you be, miss?” She asked, crouching to look Isha in the eyes.

Isha froze, grabbing Jinx’s leg and shifting behind it.

“This is Isha, she’s not a big talker,” Jinx explained, “We got her registered for classes in the spring.”

The woman looked through papers on her clipboard, exclaiming happily, “It looks like she’s going to be in room 103, let me walk you there before we deal with any of this registration business at the office.” 

They were led through colorful hallways, shapes and animals decorated the rooms they passed until they stopped at room 103. This room was just as bright as the others, a handful of kids played at an ABC’s rug, blocks and action figures flying from hand to hand. There were a few tables scattered throughout the room, each different colors of the rainbow, with tiny plastic chairs set up around them. A short man with orange hair, a big beard and mustache, walked up to them joyfully while another man followed behind.

“You must be the new arrivals,” the man guessed, “My name is Mr. Heimerdinger and this is my TA, Mr. Talis.” The man behind him waved in acknowledgement before rushing off to stop one of the kids from putting a block in their mouth.

“Ekko,” EkkI shook Mr. Heimerdinger’s outstretched hand, “Jinx, Sevika, and the new student is Isha,” he gestured to each of them, pausing when he saw Isha still hiding behind Jinx.

Jinx crouched down beside her, “She’s just a little nervous.”

Isha started sniffling again, throwing her arms around Jinx’s neck and hiding her face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jinx tried, rubbing her back, “You’re going to do great, alright? They’re going to love you.” 

Isha pulled back, wiping her face on her sleeve and nodded. She warily took Mr. Heimerdinger’s hand, walking away with him. Before she went in, though, she turned and looked back at the group, exhaling and going inside when they nodded.

“She’s going to be okay.” Sevika commented as they stood there.

“She’s going to love it,” Ekko agreed, “Soon she’s gonna be disappointed to go home.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Jinx laughed.

They were going to be okay. It was only preschool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know why my first idea for this was a modern day au of Isha going to preschool but that’s what happened. And yes I did make Heimerdinger and Jayce preschool teachers, I have a whole au for this now: I’m thinking Viktor is like the IT guy for the school, Sky is one of the office ladies, Mel is actually the principal or a art teacher, Vi is the pe teacher and Caitlyn is the vice principal. I might post about this au some more so if the people want more just let me know

in the meantime, if you’d like to make a request and help me get out of writers block THIS is a list of what I write for

[vert-horizon]

The next time you see him he’s at the counter of the daycare, having asked to see you. You have Mari covering your class--she’s in the infant room and is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. He’s in his uniform again, not a spec of dirt on him this time. He’s not even frowning--at least until he makes eye contact with you. “Leash girl,” he says like it is supposed to be a greeting. Your co-workers raise their eyebrows from where they’ve all posted up not-so-sneakily gawking at the hero, and Haru--the summer hire working the desk--is never, ever, ever, going to let this go. You just blink at him until he grunts. “Outside.”

He leans against the brick of the daycare, looking at you. Accessing. He looks a little ridiculous, none of the grandeur of battle or any other distractions that make his ostentatious outfit seem normal. The mask wings are particularly offensive, and you try not to stare at them too hard. Instead, you flick your eyes across the parking lot, clasping your hands. “Was there something you wanted or…”

He puffs a laugh. It’s an actual smile, maybe. You don’t know him well enough to discern those kinds of things, but it looked different from the ones in interviews. “Ya’ know we have to report all rescues, right?” He says that like it should mean something to you--but.

“Are you implying that you rescued Hiro when you dangled him over the sidewalk?” You ask, quick and sharp. The implication that he’d needed to be saved prickled against you, and Dynamight’s smug look wasn’t helping. One corner of his mouth lifted, showing the points of his canines, particularly--you cut yourself off. 

“Calm down,” he says, rolling his eyes dismissively, “You had ‘em, I got it. But I put my hands on the kid and that means paperwork. I’m jus’ followin’ up.” He crosses his arms, biceps large and eyes still calculating as he looks down at you.

“Right,” you nod, press your lips together against a wave of irritation. All the shit they say about this guy and he can’t ask for information like a normal person? “Okay. Well, I can give you Hiro’s--” 

He puts a hand up and then puts it flat. The orange fabric of his gloved palm is bright but dulled in patches, faded stains of what might be blood. “Not that.” You look up. He seems irritated you’d even imply he needed contact information, as if such things were below him. “Quirk license.”   

You blink. He raises his eyebrows, moves his palm back and forth like, well? Okay, think fast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say quickly, like an idiot, while you try to figure out a way out of what will probably be an enormous fucking fine.

He’s frowning, eyebrows drawn low across his face and mouth curled down, squinting at you like he’s finding the spot for a puzzle piece. “You don’t fuckin’ got one,” he says, and even though it’s true you find yourself feeling defensive. You open your mouth to protest but he’s quicker than you, “that’s rich, leash girl,” he laughs, gloved hand moving to wipe against the rudely pleased curve of his mouth. “I put you in my report.” He’s smiling, lips pink and distracting. “Was gonna submit it today, since it’s slow. Got all the info about the kid--about you,” he’s still grinning, eyes crinkling like he’s having the time of his life, teasing you. “Funny when I searched the license database… nuthin’ came up.”

Can’t stop thinking about Reader with a leash quirk. 

The kids are being good today, all things considered. They only begged to stay at the park twice, and Hiro only hit someone once, which if you remember correctly, is a new low. Your daycare class is a little slim since school is back in session and there are parents who pay big bucks for headstart programs and special tutors. The perks of Upper Musutafu. You’ve got all six kids leashed, invisible ties around their waists as you walk them the short few blocks back to the daycare. They’re old enough, almost school age, where hand-holding makes them cringe and wretch. The leash you have them on is… a foot or two. Somewhere in there. You go by feel. 

Hiro is first, and has an extra inch or so of slack--he’s line leader this week, after all. He gets to the street crossing, pressing the button with a small but firm slap. You look away, distracted by Kozue who is doing… a dance of some sort when you hear a squeal and a loud, “Fuckin’-- Watch it kid!” 

You dart your head up to see Dynamight--pro-hero Dynamight--grabbing Hiro by the collar and shaking him as he yells. Hiro’s blue sneakers are completely off the ground and you indignantly make your way to the front of your small pile of children. When Dynamight sees you he’s livid, red eyes blazing under his black face mask. He’s tall, and you have to crane your head to look at him. “You in charge’o these brats?!” He demands, setting Hiro down careful on the sidewalk instead of the crosswalk edge. “Fuckin’ watch em then!” He says, getting close like he could intimidate you into having more eyes. 

“I got them--” you try, but he’s poking a thickly gloved hand into the center of your chest, tirade ongoing.

“Could’ve fuckin’ died, what kind of daycare worker are you--” 

“I have them.” You say teeth gritted as he looks down on you. You can’t help it, looping an invisible leash around his middle and yanking, making him stumble towards you as you take a step back. The walk light is flashing red behind him, but you’re focused on the surprise that colors his face, all the angry muscles of his cheeks and jaw going slack as he takes a step forward. He seems to have lost his breath, looking down at you now with a different, sort of vacant stare. 

“Thank you for your help, Dynamight.” You smile, satisfaction sweet and swift. Letting the leash drop from his waist is easy, and you tug your kids, making them all fall in an even half-circle around you. “Kids,” you say, looking away from him as his face catches up with your ungrateful tone, eyebrows settling down to slashes again, “say thank you to the hero.” 

His ears are red as he stomps away, the kids clamoring for his attention.

[capricornlevi]

"workin' new years for the third time in a row should be illegal," atsumu scoffs, shoving another fistful of popcorn into his mouth. he's perched up on the glass counter closest to the exit, meaning he can slip off quickly if the cranky night manager sticks his head out of his office to check up on you two. "who wants to spend midnight in a movie theatre, anyway?"

you sigh, more fond than frustrated. "you've worked three new year's eves in a row and still don't know the appeal of our late night when harry met sally showing? it sells out by Halloween."

you're sitting in front of the register, having dragged some old folding chairs out from storage to rest on until close. the lobby is dead, and you've got an eye on the security cams to see if anyone leaves the packed screen down the hallway. if you're being forced to work late into the night, you'll at least be comfortable.

you hear a door creak and pause, checking to see if you're about to be scolded for pouring yourself another slushee on the company dime. when no manager surfaces, you return to the conversation, with atsumu stifling his yawn with more popcorn.

"'course i know about it," he chimes back, running his non-popcorn-holding hand through his messy blond hair. "just don't get it, is all, and i don't know why we're always the ones stuck on the holiday shifts, 'specially since we already did christmas eve."

"we're college students, 'tsumu. bottom of the pecking order in terms of festive rostering, i'm afraid."

he sighs, checking the clock behind the nacho display case -- you follow suit, seeing the second hand tick closer and closer to midnight. four minutes til new years, another thirty-ish before closing.

"want a refill on that slushee?" atsumu asks, sliding off the counter and stretching out his shoulders. his black t-shirt lifts slightly and you make an effort to ignore the toned muscles peeking out from underneath. "also -- those chairs look more comfortable than the counter, so I'm gonna steal one too."

even if you didn't know he was captain of the college volleyball team, you could likely guess from the strength in those arms as he shifts some boxes out of the way to take a seat next to you.

"yes please," you answer sweetly, a beat too late, throwing him a beaming smile as he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

as he gets back up, he calls out, "cherry, right?"

something flutters through your chest as you call back to him, "right."

"heathen. blue raspberry is superior in every way."

it's your turn to scoff now. "there's no such thing as a blue raspberry, it's a made-up flavour. at least everyone knows cherries are red."

atsumu appears at your side again, handing you the drink. as you accept it with a smile, he places one of his cold hands on your forearm, laughing as you wince and shift away.

"you're ridiculous," you say, half-chuckling and half-earnest. "here i am, spending new years eve toiling away with you, and this is the respect i get."

"i never promised respect -- i promised slushees," he points out, eyes glinting as you meet them. "and we're not exactly toilin' away, i gotta admit."

you take a long sip of your slushee, hoping your lips don't stain red before the customers file out later.

atsumu clears his throat awkwardly, as if he's debating finishing the sentence.

"and it's not so bad, with you," he continues slowly, almost sheepishly.

in the years you've worked together, you have never heard him sound so ... earnest. turning your head to meet his eyes again, you see them diverted to his hands.

"not so bad with you, either, 'tsumu," you reply softly.

he looks back up to you. "i mean it, y'know. even if i wasn't workin', i wouldn't mind ... bein' with you. i mean -- i'd -- i'd like it, spendin' new years with you ..."

"i know what you mean," you gently interrupt him for both your sakes -- his, to relieve him of his uncharacteristically anxious rambling, and yours, so you can figure out how to get your heart beating at a normal pace. you turn in your chair to face him properly, lips curled up into a small, barely-there and very overwhelmed smile.

just as he's about to say something else, you see his eyes flick back to the clock.

"ten seconds," he mumbles, a few strands of hair falling into his forehead. you reach your hand to brush them out of the way for him.

"five," you smile, dipping your head in closer, and when you see atsumu do the same, you continue.

"three."

"two."

"one."

it's a slow kiss, slower than you'd ever expected. atsumu never did things slowly, never took things at any pace other than chaotic, but this is different. he handles you carefully, his hand at the nape of your neck as he pulls you closer to him, lips moving against yours as if savouring every part of every second he gets to do this. as though he's imagined it as much as you have.

you kiss him until you feel as though you're running out of air. when you finally pull away, you marvel at the light pink flush painting atsumu's pretty cheekbones, the look of longing written across the rest of his features, the way his eyes battle between focusing on your face or your lips.

"happy new year, 'tsumu," you whisper, and his smile matches your own.

"happy new year," he says, hushed and low, before leaning in to kiss you again.

you have another twenty-five minutes, after all. and for the first time in your time working here, you're grateful that this theatre schedules when harry met sally so late into the night.

[dwntwn-strnlo]

ELEVATE. 01 {stuck}

── ⟡˙ ̟ business!matt x ceo!reader

↳ synopsis. — all good rivalry starts in an elevator.

↳ a/n. — YES for the chapter reader has a name, but it's only going to be for the 3rd person chapters. all first person chapters reader will go by a nickname or nothing at all

↳ cw. — 3rd person, crude language throughout, fear

slamming the door open, lizzie hannah stumbled into the large lobby in a desperate attempt to run. but her pace quickly faded as she looked around, getting lost in the architecture of the building.

it was extravagant, really. the gold trim on the ceiling, the black velvet couches, even the mints in a pristine bowl on the service counter. it was the most insane thing she had ever seen. and that's saying something.

the room itself was so wonderful that she almost forgot that she was running late to a meeting. her meeting. it was her first meeting ever at this new company. and it was all for her arrival. only thing is, it starts at three.

looking down at her watch, she finds the clock ticking. it's 2:58. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-" she mumbled under her breath, fixing her skirt and readjusting her bag before making an utter break for it towards the elevator.

she pays no mind to the suited man in there, staring down at his phone. that is until her internal clock starts ticking, and the doors start to shut.

frantically, the girl waves her hands, almost falling straight to her knees once again. "hey, hey! wait!" she gasps, clutching her purse like her life depended on it.

the man looks up from his phone, locking eyes with the frantic girl. she looked absolutely crazy. "uhh" he spits out, trying to figure out what to do.

run? maybe. scream? no...

hold the door?

oh.

he quickly steps out to stop the retracting elevator door, putting a foot and hand in front of the steel.

lizzie runs in, breathless. "thank you-" she gasps, stepping into the elevator with relief. "thank you."

"careful there, might break a heel." the man smiles, chuckling lightly. he steps back to exactly where he stood before, pulling his phone back out. "also might wanna button that up before the boss sees."

she stares at him confused before looking down at her shirt. finding the top 4 buttons unclasped. "oh shit." she mumbled, growing embarrassed.

buttoning the shirt back up is a struggle. her face turns hot and her fingers become useless as they shake.

the door closes, and they both check the time. 2:59.

standing restlessly, lizzie shifts back in forth between her feet as the elevator starts to move upward. "thank you, for holding the door open, i appreciate-"

her words are cut off when the elevator comes to a screeching halt, and the beaming lights flicker off one by one.

the man's eyes fly open as he looks up from his phone. "oh no, oh no-" he exasperated, stepping up to the door. trying to shove it open. trying to pull it apart. trying everything he can to not possibly be stuck in here. "i knew i should've taken the stairs, oh my god- oh my god-"

"are you kidding me?" the girl groans, stepping up to the elevator door, trying to help pull it open. "open the door! come on open it I have somewhere to be." 

the tall brunette flicks his hardened gaze in her direction, but only momentarily when he remembers how absolutely terrified he is. trying to get the door open just like she had demanded.

"i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die." he whispers frantically, now at this point having given up on opening it, bangs his fists on the stainless steel.

she laughs. she laughs. the man snaps his head back to look at her. his piercing eyes staring right through the girl. 

immediately as if being scolded by a parent, she stops laughing.

"why are you laughing." he huffs, giving up completely on escape.

again, her face flushes. skin growing uncomfortably hot. "sorry." she giggles again. throwing a hand up to her mouth to stop herself. "it's just-" she snickers, having to look away. "you don't seem like you'd be scared of elevators."

he looks her up and down with a harsh stare. thinking of what to say. he readjusts the prada bag on his shoulder. unsure of what to do in this situation. a pretty girl laughing at him, and being stuck in an elevator? every rich white boys worst nightmare.

only now as he looks at her with such disdain fear, lizzie gets to admire him. she smiles weakly, "hey i mean we're all scared of something," she rubs at her chin. "i'm scared of butterflies."

his eyes widen and he bursts out into laughter. he nearly doubles over, putting his hands on his chest to try and bring his breath back. the brunette laughs, tears brimming his eyes. "butter-butterflies?" he giggles, wiping at his eyes.

"yeah, so what?" she furrows her brows, crossing her arms over her chest. too, readjusting her bag. her brand? dior.

"you seem a little... sleezy to be an assistant." he says, poking her white bag. eyes flicking up to hers. his reflection darkened in the sunglasses atop of her head.

she scoffs, "assistant?" her grip on her bag tightens. "what makes you think that's what i am?"

he smiles softly, "just a guess, was hoping you'd bring me some coffee. would you like my order now... or?"

"you're a real dick, you know that?" she looks him up and down. almost forgetting about what's going on as she drinks in his tall, dark figure.

his teasing grin drops as the words fall past her lips. "yeah." he frowns. glaring down at her. "you know, i have a real important meeting with the new ceo that i'm already late too, and your not putting me at ease."

the girl looks up at him, raising a brow. "really." she scoffs, "what's you're name?"

furrowing his brows, he ignores the sound of the breaker turning on, and the doors scratching open. "matthew," he smiles, "matthew sturniolo."

"good to know," she smiles back, stepping around him and off the elevator just in time for the doors to close again. 

"what's your name?" he calls after her, turning around to step off the elevator.

"lizzie hannah." she calls out. not glancing back until the door is almost closed.

only then it hits him that the new girl, started the same day as the ceo. and there is no assistant. it's just lizzie, the ceo.

he stares at her in shock as the doors start to close, forgetting that this is his floor.

"i like white mochas, by the way."

xoxo HARLEY . . .

----- guys this one's not gonna flop i swear im not a flop

[l-amplights]

MY HUGE TPOT 15 THEORIES AND OBSERVATIONS AND JUST RENERAL RANTS AND AUTISM POST. SPOILERS AHEAD

i NEED TO TALK ABOUT EAN AND VERPT(? NO SUBTITLES YET) RIGHT NOW

I NEED PEOPLE TO REALISE THEY CALLED THEMSELVES A LETTER. NOT A VARIABLE. A LETTER. ALSO CALLS VERPT A LETTER.... also awesome 1 legged algebralien and no limbed. we love to see variations :> excited for eventuall floater algebralien

PLEASE CORRECT ME IF IM WRONG BUT ASSUMING THIS IS WHERE THE ALGEBRALIENS COME FROM I THINK THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WEVE SEEN THIS???

HUGE WIN FOR NUMBER AUTISM

SOMETHING I JUST REALISED WHILE GOING FRAME BY FRAME FOR LAST IMAGE, MARKER. IS PURPLE HERE BUT THEN

YOU CAN SEE THE EFFECTS TAKING PLACE!!!!!

THATS AWESOME!!!!

these little shits are remind me of goo man from TPOT 11 (out of the blue)

looking back at goo man im not sure why

IM SO HAPPY THE VR HEADSET HOST FINALLY GOT USED

according to the awesome wiki

"The character was shown during the production of BFB. They may have been the original host of BFB, given the tweet description, but was replaced by Four and X.

Sometime after the VR Headset post was posted in jacknjellify's Twitter, Satomi clarified VR Headset was never meant to be a host or any sort of character, and was drawn simply because Michael thought they would be cool to draw."

HIIII PROFILEY... AWESOME TO SEE THEM BACK. REALLY COOL PARALELL HERE METHINKS BC THEYRE VOICED BY THE SAME GUY AS TWO :>

jumping around a bit. this was shown earlier and not expanded on untill the end. this. this drives me insane

thats ones equivilent of the fourest, it has a link to the equation playground I WAS RIGHT

very interesting its also plant based.

I CANNOT FIND . WHEN I WAS BLABBERING ABOUT THIS SO IT MUSTVE BEEN IN A VC. BUT I CALLED THIS. also barf bag literally my face when i saw this lollll

okkkk back to like the usual time

HI EVIL LEAFY HIIII IM SOOOO HAPPY SHE APPEARED. THIS DOESNT MEAN SHE ISNT LIKE DEAD AFTER IDFB BUT IM GLAD WE GOT TO SEE HER IN TPOT .. AND AS A HOST NO LESS!!

ID ALSO LIKE TO POINT OUT not sure if this is just startled or pin here being AFRAID for a second of EL

ABSOLUTELY HEARTBROKEN RF AND BB GOT OUT SAME TIME. HORRIBLE also neat they used the ending of the bfb intro here

X host.... imagine. life could be a dream

ok let me go over all the style stuff we see here also in order

(starting at the start of cake at stake (or cake at skate))

for the entire first half its just the usual TPOT style so i wont make a huge deal of that

Ean's part is also in TPOT

Pan Flute here's part is in the style of BFDIA specifically the newer episodes, figures, thats what hes from

EL's part is also in BFDIA style (with some very old assets behind), however id like to go over something else here

RIGHT BEFORE SHE APPEARS PIN GOES THROUGH SOME OF HER BFDIA ARC CHANGES. NEAT

also the music in the background here is "The Fiber" (thats what its called in the bfb ost release at least) WHICH IS ALSO THE SONG THAT PLAYS ENTIRELY THROUGHOUT BFDIA 5B!!!! AWESOME!!!!

GONNA BE HONEST NO IDEA WHAT STYLE THIS IS SUPPOSE TO BE... THE ANIMATION IS SUPER WEIRD AND DIFFERENT. it actually reminds me of how sacri animates her shows!!

hold on i need to make a new post i cant upload any more images

[stiltsthegm]

GOTY 2024 #1 - Heaven Will Be Mine

I can't believe it took me this long to play Heaven Will Be Mine. It's over 6 years old at this point. I had known about it since it released, so it's not like it blindsided me or anything. I just...never got around to it. At the same time, though, I'm glad it took me this long to play Heaven Will Be Mine. I don't know if 2018 Iris would have appreciated it as much, or in the same way. Fuck, I still hadn't figured out I was Iris until 2021 so, you know, things are looking a whole lot different from the other side of that.

Heaven Will Be Mine is a visual novel about three women who pilot giant mechs for three different factions. These mechs, however, cannot kill, because they weren't designed for fighting things of flesh and blood or even metal. They were designed to fight ideas. These girls will try to use them to make their own ideas real.

Every fight in the game is a conversation, an argument, a reminiscing, a flirtation, a reconciliation. Pluto's mech is massive and overwhelming and all-encompassing because that's what Pluto's personality feels like. Saturn's mech is slippery and bitey and scrappy because she's a mischievous brat. Heaven Will Be Mine sees the metaphor of the humanoid mech and decides to simply toss aside the thin barrier of separation between man and machine. The man is the machine, the machine exists because the man sees themselves in it and as it. In such a world, a child might decide that this new and potentially limitless expression of the self is far more liberating and fulfilling than anything they had on Earth. They might decide to stay in space to build a new life for themselves. To be a new type of human. One that doesn't fit the previous definitions.

And what would happen if Earth decided it didn't want the definition of "human" to change?

The three factions in the game represent three different answers to that question. It's a testament to this game's phenomenal writing that all three answers feel "right," even if there's one particular ending I like more than the others (mine is Cradle's Graces, for the record). Because that's the only true way to handle that question, isn't it? We're all trying to figure out what being us even means, and we're gonna have different ways of doing that.

God, I've been rambling about themes and introspection and shit and I haven't even mentioned the art and the music. It's stunning, gorgeous, evocative, and I could heap more superlatives on it, but it'd start to feel insincere even though I mean every word of it. I adore every character in this game and want only the best for them. I love reading every chat log and news article and mission briefing. Every ending makes me cry, even when I'm seeing them for the second time.

I suppose it's fitting that the only game that had a chance of knocking 1000xResist from first place was an even gayer visual novel that came out almost 7 years ago and is a contender for one of my favorite games of all time. And if you don't agree with me, well...

[hyperfixingfr]

I think it's really stupid to be mad when people criticize the way you draw/your lack of drawing fat people. You're allowed to be sad, because to be fair, I would be with any criticism, too. But otherwise, there's a great deal of people in this fandom who slim down every single fat person they touch, intentionally or not. If we can't tell they're supposed to be fat or you're underestimating their fat (ex making a character like HOAGIE have the amount of body fat that WALLY has) we have every right to be upset. And no, no one with a brain is going to take the "just my headcanons" excuse. First off, a headcanon is not, "completely going against established stuff". I have no problem with people changing canon when the canon material is problematic but that one is not it and you know it. Second off, you know damn well you don't have to change it. There is no logical reason to desire changing the body of ANY of the 3 fat characters that people talk about. Especially because for Hoagie, we can clearly tell by looking at his family that he will NEVER have a slimmer body type, even just chubby, unless he were severely unhealthy. The only time I endorse making a fat character slimmer like that is in cases like @kommandonuovidiavoli , who has a great plot involving Tommy and his battle with health issues causing him to become skinnier and "more appealing", despite the fact that his fat was a sign of health. It's the same reason that we don't change the ability of characters who already have canon disabilities, or change the sexuality of characters who already have a canonly established sexuality (yes, this only applies to characters who outright say "I am _" or creators who specifically state they are something). If you cannot tell the difference between fat bodies and skinny bodies in your style without having to really look, do something about it. It can really hurt for fat people, to see their body type butchered and misrepresented constantly. It's why I bring it up so much. I've gotten sent plenty of hate mail for this, and at some point, an entire discord server of grown adults was shit talking me for asserting that it's wrong to do that. But I stand by the fact that you lose NOTHING by keeping this specific aspect as is. There are millions upon millions of headcanons that exist out there for you to explore and I have no problem with them. The fact that I openly express and explain why removing fat from a character is bad, and then get called "controlling" for it, should say plenty about you and nothing about me. There is no gain for removing representation. Please pick something else. No one's gonna be "whining" if you just pick normal headcanons to have instead of choosing specifically the ones that are just removing a character's canon and well established minority group, whatever it may be. If it's REALLY that hard, there's charts to figure out what's minority and what's majority. For anyone who may be slimming people down unintentionally, well... Practice. Please. I really can't emphasize how much some need it.

[hunterofartemis7]

Adopted by the gods AU pt.14

Athena: *running after her son* Odysseus! Odysseus please wait!

Odysseus: *turns and faces her, tears in his eyes* you lied to me!

Athena: I never lied to you

Odysseus: you told me I was abandoned!!

Athena: you were!

Odysseus: not from what I just heard!

Athena: all you heard were the lies from a mortal who didn’t want to admit what she did!

Odysseus: okay back tracking, why didn’t you tell me they were alive?!

Athena: because it didn’t matter! They abandoned you!

Odysseus: it does matter! Clearly no one can agree on what really happened—

Athena: Odysseus I know what happened! I know what I saw and heard!

Odysseus: and what was your plan if I ever found out on my own!? Were you ever going to tell me?!

Athena: I..I don’t know maybe! I didn’t think that far ahead!

Odysseus: really!? The goddess who plans for everything didn’t plan on telling her son that he is 1, a prince, and 2, still has living parents!?

Athena: none of that stuffed mattered! If you had gone back after they abandoned you they would’ve killed you!

Odysseus: you don’t know that! Fuck you aren’t even 100% sure if I was abandoned!! You yelled one thing and they yelled another!

Athena: I know that i was trying to protect my son from the people who tried to kill him!! And even if they didn’t, they never bothered looking for you! What would be the point of telling you about people who didn’t want you!?

Odysseus: do you really believe all this or are you just in denial because you don’t want to admit your wrong and give me up!?

Athena:…….

Odysseus:…..just leave me alone mom.

Athena: Odysseus-

Odysseus: i said leave me alone mother!! *runs off*

Athena:……..*slumps down against the wall holding her head in her hands*

Aphrodite:..well that happened

Athena: *crying* go away

Aphrodite: *sits beside her and pulls her into a hug stroking her hair*

Athena: *cries into her shoulder*

Aphrodite: sshhh, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.

Athena: how!? How could it possibly be okay!? *pushes away and stands up pacing around* My son hates me and won’t believe a word I say, his birth parents are back and want to take him, and all of the Olympians are on their side!!

Aphrodite: not all of them

Athena: name one!

Aphrodite: Artemis, me, and Hermes

Athena: *rolls her eyes* great, three gods agree with me! Not like there’s another 9 who want him gone! I’m gonna lose my fucking son!

Aphrodite: Thea. You’re not going to lose your son.

Athena: really!? Cause after that shit show I’d be amazed if Father doesn’t make me send him back with those people!

Aphrodite: Thea! You are still his mother, whether Zeus likes it or not he can’t make you do a damn thing with Odysseus. And besides, even in the mess of you and his birth mom fight we still don’t know what really happened.

Athena: I know what fucking happened!

Aphrodite: and so does the queen apparently. Clearly some wires are getting crossed. Btw Zeus wants you to apologize for punching her in the face

Athena: not happening!

Aphrodite: okay…well you at least need to have a civil conversation with her so we can figure this out.

Athena: clearly a conversation didn’t work last time

Aphrodite: well you have a better idea?

Athena:…..no

Aphrodite: then let’s go. *stands up* Hermes got a truth spell from Circe, so we will know whether or not the Queen is lying.

Athena: fine. *follows Aphrodite back to the throne room*

Diomedes: *hiding under the dinning table with Odysseus* *whispers* why are we doing this?

Odysseus: *whispers* I want to know what really happened.

Diomedes: *whispers* do you really believe mother lied to you?

Odysseus: *whispers*…idk. But she’s to stubborn to listen to the other lady and not be in denial. I want to know.

[syndrossi]

Will the dynamics between Jon and Rhaegar change much in the Restoration AU when Rhaegar analyzes everything? He has to look at many events from a new angle (The way Jon reacts to the Trident/Baratheons, how Jon asked what Rhaegar would name him, how fiercely he protected him, etc.). Will he become more protective of Jon? Or will he feel Jon needs tenderness and comfort from him, especially after realizing the atmosphere Jon grew up in? And how will that change his relationship to W!Jon? Will W!Jon realize that one of his little brothers/uncles is trying to adopt him?

His determination grows to protect Jon as more of an equal (vs Jon's attempts to make it a one-sided thing), but at this point, they've known one another as brothers for two-plus years, so they're pretty settled in that dynamic. I expect Rhaegar is busily cataloging every trauma and little hurt, recontextualizing them and sort of triaging--which can he help with, how can he atone for what he suffered?

If you think about it, the situation is not entirely unlike Daemon's agony over not being there when the twins were little-little, except that it was nineteen years for Jon, rather than eight.

I could see Rhaegar struggling with wanting to blame his original counterpart a great deal for Jon's pain. How could he be so foolish in dealing with Aerys? How did he not know that their father would respond so poorly to anything unexpected? Did he not foresee the Vale fostering relationship forming the basis of a powerful alliance? What exactly were his plans for his existing family?

(The shock of what Tywin Lannister's forces did would really shake him, too. He remembers Joanna and his mother being close, and Tywin generally being supportive of him. That the man would orchestrate the violent murder of his future wife and their young child would be a harsh realization.)

And it's hard, because he doesn't have all the pieces to know why his future self acted as he did. (And canon!Rhaegar, or at least Jon's Rhaegar, wasn't Resonant!Rhaegar. Their experiences differed, with Resonant!Rhaegar explicitly a PTWP, which makes canon!Rhaegar similarly difficult to fully understand.)

In terms of what to do, at least with his Jon, Daemon's fathering is a pretty high-intensity beam of parental love, so that's not the issue, aka Jon doesn't need another father. His issue with mother figures is gonna be in much sharper relief, as well as the self-worth/self-sacrificial tendencies and what they're rooted in (believing himself to be a bastard, of lesser value than his trueborn siblings).

So again, he probably just tries to step up as a peer for his Jon, and offer to tell him anything he'd like to know about his childhood, to give him whatever glimpse he wants of og!Rhaegar to give him the closure he needs.

For Winterfell!Jon, he'll do more caretaker-ing, which W!Jon will find by turns adorable and bewildering, since they are both still very much in little-siblings territory for him, even if they're technically his uncles. I could see Rhaegar trying to figure out what he most needs and giving it to him.

(And Jon's fear of things happening to him will be even more clear. Before, there was the obvious "he lost siblings before, especially Robb, who was the same age." But the fact that he "lost" Rhaegar in some form before, and that that is a huge source of his fear, at least gives him something else to address.)

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s5

breaking into the labyrinth of the department of defense in episode 1 to find the cure for scully, finding only a vial of water, and the ensuing devastation that crosses his face

in the beginning of episode 2, scully is in the hospital, and he reveals that he faked his death to come visit her (“you move pretty good for a dead man”, skinner says, to which he replies “i’m only half dead”). he's going utterly ballistic, screaming “i’ll calm down when i have a reason to calm down!”, and then nearly collapses as he sees her sick in bed. only skinner's threat of arrest after they come to blows can make him see straight

he sees CSM in the hall of the hospital where scully is recovering, and spits at him “please tell me you’re here with severe chest pains” <-LMAOOOO

and when CSM tries to win him over to the dark side through scully’s cure and showing him his “sister”, he absolutely refuses, saying “you murdered my father. you killed scully’s sister, and if scully dies, i will kill you. i don’t care whose father you are, i will put you down” (LOUD CHEERING!!!!!!!)

enduring bill scully's horrible attacks on his character, trying to sympathize with his pain despite how awful he is being because he knows what it feels like to lose loved ones for the Truth. he tells this man that is being so awful to him that he lost his father and sister in his quest for answers, so he can relate to the pain he feels- only to be met with more scorn

he comes into scully’s hospital room again later on, where she is sound asleep, and he lays his head next to her and sobs

defending scully in her absence at his big important hearing; explaining how she was sent to spy on him, but “that agent scully did not follow these orders is a testament to her integrity as an investigator, a scientist, and a human being” <3

and then he SOMEHOW guesses correctly that the mole is section chief blevins, who had been on the payroll of the biotech company for years... i want to unpack if he figured it out subconsciously or was just equal parts lucky and confident, but i feel that we will never truly know

he tells skinner that scully’s cancer is in remission, saying it is the best news he has ever heard, then cries in the hallway of the hospital, holding the bloody photo of him and samantha as kids

he meets frohike for the very first time in 1989 in episode 3 and declines his offer of bootleg cable by saying “no thanks, handsome”, which prompts frohike to call him "a man of taste". thus began his long tradition of flirting with the boys

he was RACING back to the motel room at the end of episode 4, banging on the door, telling scully to get in the car NOW, and narrowly saving her from the florida mothman who was hiding under the bed!!!! i <3 protective mulder!!!

in episode 7, he flies down as soon as he can to vouch for scully's capability to adopt emily. scully introduces him to her as “a friend”, and he starts making funny faces to get her to laugh right away. he points out that the girl’s adoptive parents were both murdered, and when scully says that she can protect her, he asks “yeah, but who’s gonna protect you?”; he testifies on her behalf, even though he says he shouldn’t, because he knows it’ll put her in danger

later, he confronts the doctor who refuses to transfer over emily’s medical files. he pulls out his gun, points it at the doctor’s head, and asks “why don’t you tell me whose life is worth saving, yours or hers?” - he's so quick to adjust to scully's news of having a child and so quick to draw blood on her behalf

they’re bickering about the case in episode 8, so mulder, in a rare moment of clarity, steps back to ask what they both agree on and says they can work from there. i was shocked! in a good way! after 5 years, he finally learned to manage their opposing viewpoints in a way that can get things done! (i am sure this will never happen again)

his tree climbing detour in episode 9, plus the legendary line “hey scully, is this demonstration of boyish agility turning you on at all?” (and then bonus points for his sad descent as he is needed back on the ground right after he got up there)

his complete inability to function without scully while she is on vacation in episode 10- he actually TWIRLS the phone line while calling her!!!

and when he calls her for the 800th time, he greets her saying “morning, sunshine!” while loudly thumping his basketball up and down until she has to ask him wtf that noise is... so he lies, saying there is construction outside his window, and yells, telling the nonexistent construction worker to quiet down <- LMAOOO it killed me!!! (his basketball thumping has always been used to indicate his inability to relax... truly there is no peace for him without the bestie in town)

he’s SOOOO jealous when scully thinks the cowboy sheriff in episode 12 is cute (he recalls him having a thick southern drawl with huge teeth, so when they have to fly back down, she points out that they are totally normal-sized, and he still disputes this fact until the very end of the episode)

in episode 14, he sprints to find scully after she was present for the mass burning; he runs his fingers through her hair when she is in the hospital for vasogenic shock

post-krycek breaking into his house and beating him up, warning him that the end of the world is coming, scully finds him in his apartment sitting in the dark. “what are you doing sitting here in the dark?”, she asks. “thinking” “about what?” “oh, the usual- destiny, fate, how to throw a curveball… the inextricable relationships in our lives that are neither accidental nor somehow entirely in our control, either”

calling scully back from a payphone in the pouring rain in episode 17 to help get her some information on her personal case <3

(he also really nerds out in that episode about eye imagery in the bible, apocrypha, and references jesus christ superstar... a man of culture)

((and he was SO protective of scully- he stepped in when the priest was being all shady, tried to advise her not to let him get into her head, and we got to see some incredibly rare emotional communication when he said “i’ve never seen you more vulnerable or susceptible or more easily manipulated, and it scares me because i don’t know why”. he was grabbing her shoulders and pulling her in close, telling her she should step away when she mentions the visions of emily… god. he was SO worried!!))

when he’s being tortured in episode 18, he tells the man hurting him over and over again that he will kill him, which i thought was really fascinating

being willing to risk all of the x files in episode 20 because he fully believes that scully is correct about gibson being the key to explaining them, even though skinner warns against it... that is complete trust <3

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Putting aside all of the jokes and technicalities and such…do you think Marinette is a stalker?

Buckle up folks, this is gonna be a long one.

Personal Bias

When I was 14-years-old, a "friend" of mine got a crush on me and I made it clear that I wasn't interested. He then proceeded to follow me around school, often blocking my path so I couldn't go anywhere without talking to him. He knew I was uncomfortable with this, but refused to stop until I got school authorities involved. By the time it was all over, he basically had a school-imposed restraining order where he wasn't allowed to go near me unless he wanted detention.

When I was 16, another "friend" was so upset that I was dating someone who wasn't him that he figured out how to get into my school email and, through that, one of my socials. He proceeded to try to break me and my boyfriend up. He almost succeeded.

When a male friend of mine was around 16, he turned down a girl who had a crush on him. She and her friends proceeded to harass him on a consistent basis because she knew his schedule and used it to trap him in certain spots like when he was waiting for the bus. They wouldn't stop no matter what he did or said. It only stopped when school officials got involved.

When my cousin was in high school, a boy started following her home every day. It got so bad that the cops were called, but they refused to do anything because he wasn't "threatening enough." Her family had to move and switch what school she went to in order to get away from him.

As you may know, I have seen Miraculous. So has my male friend. So has my cousin. We were all some level of fan at one point or another and have talked about the show critically together. Guess who didn't phase any of us?

Marinette.

Stalking 101

Definition One

Stalking is pattern of behavior directed at a specific person that would cause a reasonable person to fear for the person’s safety or the safety of others; or suffer substantial emotional distress. (Source)

Definition Two

“Stalking is a pattern of repeated and unwanted attention, harassment, contact, or any other course of conduct directed at a specific person that would cause a reasonable person to feel fear,” according to the Department of Justice. Similar to crimes of sexual violence, stalking is about power and control.

Stalking laws and definitions differ from state to state. Stalking behavior can take many forms including:

Making threats against someone, or that person's family or friends

Non-consensual communication, such as repeated phone calls, emails, text messages, and unwanted gifts

Repeated physical or visual closeness, like waiting for someone to arrive at certain locations, following someone, or watching someone from a distance

Any other behavior used to contact, harass, track, or threaten someone

(Source)

Marinette Overview

When I say that Marinette isn't a stalker, this isn't me blindly defending my favorite character*. It's me considering her against the real-life stalkers I have actually dealt with as well as professional discussion on what stalking is and why it happens. When I look at those and then look at Marinette, she just doesn't fit the label.

"Stalker" is not a synonym for "creep." It's a term for specific patterns and types of behavior. When people use the term "stalker" for her, it never seems to come from some deep nuanced argument about her overall behavior. It comes from a handful of scenes where the writers absolutely take her too far. Those scenes understandably creep some viewers out. If those viewers just called her "creepy," then I wouldn't argue against them. Instead, they slap the "stalker" label on Marinette and call it a day without a second thought. I find that incredibly annoying in an analytical context and incredibly unappealing in a writing context for reasons we'll get to at the end.

That doesn't mean that I agree with Marinette's every action. The writers have made her do some extremely questionable things and I'm happy to criticize those moments! But, while I will happily agree that individual episodes take her too far, the overall picture doesn't fit a stalker even if you take things at face value and pretend that nothing is a joke/ignore that Miraculous is a comedy which is not how good analysis works. Ignoring the fact that Miraculous is a comedy shows poor media literacy and is another reason I can't take the stalker claims seriously.

If Marinette is a stalker, then every adult who showed up at Adrien's house in Party Crasher needs to be arrested because wtf were they doing showing up to a party thrown by unchaperoned 14-year-olds? If we take that episode seriously, then it's super creepy! But it's clearly not meant to be taken seriously because this is a comedy. The adults showing up was just done to make Adrien's party seem insane, not concerning like it would be in the real world. If you can wrap your head around that, but you're also trying to argue that Marinette's behavior in this episode was "problematic," then I just can't take you seriously. Pick a lane. Either all of the jokes are serious character beats or none of them are.

Marinette Analysis

To really dig into this, let's quickly look at a few of Marinette's worst behaviors and talk about why they don't set off my alarm bells for her character being a stalker. As we go over these, I want you to keep two things in mind:

stalking is about patterns of behavior not one-off bad choices

stalkers use stalking as a way to control and own their victims

Following Adrien Around

If Marinette were written as a stalker, she'd be doing this on the daily. She'd follow Adrien home every time we see him go home. She'd be at every one of his outdoor photo shoots. She'd transform into Ladybug and use binoculars to watch him in his room. But she doesn't. Most of the time, Marinette is happily living her life while Adrien lives his. She's more likely to watch his commercials than watch him which is not how stalkers work. That is how you write a fan, not a stalker.

There are a few episodes that do have Marinette follow him around, but it's always done as a way to start the plot and never as a fun little character beat like Marinette making Tikki hats. Even then, I think the Shanghai special is the only time when Marinette just randomly follows him somewhere to be with him (it's her most stalkerish moment, imo, but it's quite notably a one-time thing). Most of the time, there's an inciting incident that leads her to follow him for some reason other than just watching Adrien.

For example, Oni-Chan has Lila being creepy and lying her way into Adrien's home, leading Marinette to follow to see what's going on. That's not stalker behavior. That's comedically exaggerated concerned friend behavior. I could see Alya or Nino doing the same thing if they were allowed to be smart when Lila was around.

Sneaking into Adrien's Home

Once again, this doesn't happen in most episodes. I can only think of four out of 125: Chat Blanc, Party Crasher, Oni-Chan, and Gabriel Agreste. In each of these episodes, Marinette sneaks into the mansion - or tries to sneak into the mansion - because of some sort of mission or special circumstances and not as part of her normal behavior. For example, Chat Blanc is arguably the most questionable of these, but it starts because Marinette's girlfriends challenge her to give Adrien a present and not because Marinette just decided to go to the mansion:

Rose: That's it, Marinette! No more picnics, sleepovers, or going to the movies with us until you give him that gift! You made that hat for Saint Athanasius Day, which is today! How is Adrien's supposed to know you're thinking of him on his fifth name's day if you don't give him your gift? Alya: She's right. Today is the day! All the girls except Marinette: Go, go, go, go, go, go!

But when Marinette gets there, Nathalie won't let her in or allow her to wait. Nathalie doesn't even offer to take the gift, so Marinette sneaks in to leave the present behind. Good behavior? No, but not Marinette going to the mansion of her own volition to creep on Adrien. While this leads to the totally creepy pillow sniff moment, that's pretty much all Marinette does outside of leaving the gift. She doesn't go snooping in Adrien's room like Lila does in Oni-Chan because the point of this episode wasn't to make Marinette look like a villain or a creep. It was about punishing Marinette for using her powers to give Adrien a gift with her name on it as that's too selfish, I guess.

In fact, none of these episodes were trying to make Marinette look like a villain or a creep. Each one made her do something questionable, but only so that the plot would work. No present, no Chat Blanc. No party crashing or fake butler disguise and Marinette isn't there for the akuma. When there's no plot-necessary reason for Marinette to be at the mansion, she isn't. That's not how you write a stalker. For her to be a stalker, she needs a lot more Chat Blanc moments where she just sneaks in to leave him things or sniff his pillow. We need a pattern, not a one-off moment.

Having Adrien's Schedule

I know I'd said I'd take things more seriously than a comedy calls for in this discussion, but it's impossible to take this one even remotely seriously. How would Marinette even have Adrien's schedule for the next three years? Where did she get it? How is she keeping it up to date when things absolutely change on a weekly basis? How is anyone missing that this is a joke, especially when you consider how the show writes Marinette outside of this episode (Gigantitan)?

While Marinette is sometimes shown to know about things like Adrien's fencing schedule, most episodes present Marinette as if she's reacting to things that she just learned about. For example, in Backwarder, she freaks out about Adrien going to England with Kagami for a wedding that would have been on Adrien's schedule for months if not years.

Why would Marinette do that if she has his schedule? If she's a stalker, then as soon as she heard about the wedding, she'd be on a mission to find out if Adrien has a date and if there are any threats in attendance. She'd probably even find a way to stop Kagami from going like messing with her food. But Marinette doesn't do any of that. Instead, she's written as if she just found out about the wedding and is making up a plan on the fly:

Marinette: Girls! We have a very serious situation! (The girls are cuddled up in the couch, all of them except Rose looking extremely tired)Adrien and his father have been invited to the Royal Wedding in England this weekend. Alya: (annoyed and exhausted) That's the “emergency’’ you called us over here for on a Saturday morning? (frowns) Marinette: You don't get it! Kagami and her mother are going too! (paces around the room doing dramatic hand gestures) Which means that Adrien and Kagami will be spending an entire weekend together!

And her plan ends up being to give Adrien a note and hope for the best. Not exactly the obsessive, controlling behavior you'd go for if you were writing a stalker.

This also implies that, at most, she probably knows his weekly routine which isn't weird since that's something he'd talk about to his friends. Like all of Marinette's worst behavior, the "knows his schedule for the next three years thing" was a one-off gag. Please stop obsessing over it. This isn't how characterization works.

(Note from my male friend who I discussed this post with: the line about the schedule did put him on edge because of his experiences, but that quickly passed as Marinette's behavior didn't back up the line from a stalking POV.)

Stealing Adrien's Stuff

I'm pretty sure the only time Marinette steals something from Adrien when she takes his phone in Copy Cat. "I left an embarrassing message and have to delete it" is an established comedic plot that has been done by dozens of shows and not something uniquely chosen for Marinette, but let's ignore that for a moment and pretend that it's a serious character beat and not a comedy doing something silly because it's a comedy and that's how they work.

Even if we remove all that context, Marinette still isn't acting like a stalker. When my stalker hacked into my email, he was doing it in an effort to control me, not to delete an embarrassing message. He read everything he could find and used that to mess with me. It's actually how I discovered he'd done it. He knew too much. Marinette doesn't do anything like that. She deletes her message and then puts the phone back because stealing the phone wasn't about stalking Adrien. It was about fixing her mistake. A stalker would go through the phone to learn everything about her obsession.

Conclution

None of this is meant to say that everything Marinette does is totally fine and I think people are overreacting if her worst moments upset them. I hate many of the choices they've made for her character and think they were total missteps. If a real person was doing the things Marinette does, then I'd be getting psychiatric services involved because this isn't healthy. I could even see it devolving into actual stalking as the early warning signs are there.

However, Marinette's behavior isn't meant to be realistic and taken at face value. She's the fictional star of a comedy where the writers decided to make her failed confessions a running gag so they had to keep coming up with ridiculous situations to put her in based around her crush. That context matters when evaluating her character and deciding if her actions are meant to be as serious as Chat Blanc ending the world or silly as adults at a teenager's party in Party Crasher. For the majority of seasons one to five, it's very clearly Party-Crasher silly. That doesn't mean you need to like the jokes - I certainly don't - it just means that you do need own that they're jokes if you're trying to do any sort of serious analysis of Marinette's character.

I went through several elements of her behavior not to say that she's totally pure and fine, but to show you that people are taking a handful of really bad moments and acting like it's her standard behavior which isn't how large-scale character analysis works. I was also highlighting the difference between a character who is purposely written as a stalker and a character being the victim of a bunch of adult men making massive missteps while trying write a comedy about a teenage girl with a monster crush. If you want to take her behavior seriously in the context of what jokes are appropriate and what ones go too far, then be my guest! But that's not character analysis even if the analysis is focused on Marinette's character. It's a comedy or writing analysis. Any quality analysis of Marinette's character as a whole and how we're supposed to read her has to take the context of her actions into account.

To write Marinette as a real stalker, you have to go a lot further than the writers did. You have to make her worst behavior constant and not just occasional bad calls. You have to make her feel dangerous and change the tone from comedy to horror. You need to have her friends react with concern instead of egging Marinette on or pushing her into situations as if Marinette's behavior is fine. You need to have Tikki being deeply concerned and not just mildly exasperated. Canon doesn't do any of that because the writers don't intend Marinette's behavior to be read as concerning. When you look at the full context of canon, it's glaringly obvious that the problem is that the writers sometimes make poor calls when exaggerating her crush to tell jokes and not intentional elements of Marinette's character that you should take at face value.

Bonus Salt Fic Discussion

I said at the top that I find the stalker Marinette takes "incredibly unappealing in a writing context" and so I'll end with that as that is more nuanced than bad analysis.

Did canon give us a handful of moments that you can really lean on to back a read that Marinette is an unhinged stalker? Yes, it did. I can't say that people are making that shit up. The Shanghai special and Derision are especially solid "proof." Is fanfic often about obsessing over single moments and little details to an absurd degree no matter how insignificant those details are? Yep, I can't deny that either. That's not unique salter behavior.** Does Miraculous have wildly inconsistent characterization for basically every character with more the one appearance, making it so that you have to pick and choose what you're going to embrace as "canon" for you version if you want to be even remotely coherent with your own characterizations? 100%

All of that is why I'm on the record as saying that I get where the Marinette salt is coming from just like I get the Adrien salt and the class salt and so on. It's standard fandom behavior to bash characters you don't like and the salt takes aren't even doing that thing where people make shit up. It's all based on canon because canon keeps making terrible choice after terrible choice! I just don't find it fun because salt fics are all about embracing the worst writing in the show and expanding upon it, which is the exact opposite of what I want to see when I'm reading fic. I read fic to see better versions of canon! I don't want to be reminded of canon's very real problems. Problems I only expect to get worse as time goes on.

I have no doubt that season six will bring with it a bunch of new moments where Marinette and others act terribly. I wouldn't even be shocked if we reach a point where I agree that Marinette's standard behavior makes her feel dangerous because season five's ending certainly set things up to go there. However, for now, the worst label I'd put on her is "creepy" and that's only in the context of specific episodes. Generally speaking, she's fine.

*Btw, Marinette isn't actually my favorite character. My favorites are Alya, Plagg, and Adrien

**As an example of fandom obsessing over a more neutral detail and elevating it beyond anything canon ever dreamed of, I'll draw your attention to the fandom's obsession with Adrien saying that Marinette is "just a friend." I have come across multiple fics that would have you think that's his catch phrase. A pattern which was deeply confusing because I could only recall him saying it once or twice. After some digging, as best I can tell, he says those words four times and it's never even to Marinette's face, which is wild when you think about how many fics have her parroting the line as if he says it to her all the time. I've even had people tell me that he says that line all the time when that's very clearly not the case. I'd say it's weird, but it's probably just a variation of the fact that eye-witness accounts of crimes are notoriously inaccurate. People just don't remember things accurately.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hiiii, can I request some headcanons about MC who is a great chef plsssss. Ohohoho not only that.... how about their food are too good that the kings + Lucifer (and some of you fav nobles) put on weight 😈😈 (i know they kinda impossible... but plssssss... for the sake of my love for chubby belly and thighs 😭 i gonna bribed you with this 🍀🍀 ehehe)

I just want to see what they reactions would be when they know that this is all MC plan to smooch and adore the chubby parts of them 😛

OH thank you for sending this in anon, and also for waiting~ If you're still around to see this I hope you enjoy seeing our bois putting on some weight in this AU (because yeah otherwise they would never 😭 their bodies seem to just stay hella fit and sculpted)

Lead in: It's been about a month or so since Chef!MC started making food for the kings during their stay in Hell. They figured out how to work with the ingredients easily and each dish is delicious even if MC sometimes can't consume it themselves (uses Ppyong as a taste tester) Some of the nobles too have been eating a bunch of Chef!MC's food, so much to where they've put on some weight...

Satan: He doesn't take long for him to notice the chub on his tummy when he goes to the gym. He seems irritated that he's been enjoying too many tasty snacks from Chef!MC. As he stares in the mirror of his private workout room, Chef!MC comes in with yet again another bag of "pre-workout" snacks. They notice that Satan is rather pissed about his new figure, that is until they poke and squeeze Satan and adore the new look for him. So what he has a bit of a tummy? Now there's more of him for Chef!MC to love, and it's evidence that he loves their food. All of this attention makes Satan also forget about his irriation as he takes the bag of snacks and demands for more of Chef!MC's attention.

Mammon: He's so big, you would expect for his metabolism to be at peak. His muscles alone should need tons of energy and fuel. But it seems that he's been overindulging in the decadent sweets and the savory heavy foods that Chef!MC has made to the point of where parts of his body have put on some pounds. His ass especially, and thighs are more squishy and large, a small belly forming too. Chef!MC noticed how more pronounced his backside is when he has his robe on, and they often can't help but squeeze and smack it. Because of this, Mammon doesn't hold back on eating more. Well, even though Chef!MC will be tired from cooking, they at least get to enjoy Mammon later...

Beelzebub: For this devil, it's quite impossible for him to gain any weight. None. Who knows where he packs it all, Chef!MC surely doesn't know. The restaurants around the area tell stories of him clearing out their inventory in less than a few minutes in one bite. But, he does indulge Chef!MC one night, showing up with the most pleasing to the eye "dad" bod imaginable. He looks so squishy, soft, with a bit of muscle in his arms and his thighs look like soft pillows. Chef!MC doesn't know, but he did this because he was suspecting that they were wondering why he didn't gain weight like the other kings who were eating their food.

Leviathan: He doesn't normally eat too much, opting to sleep more than eat to conserve energy. But once he gets a taste of Chef!MC's food he can't help but indulge. ALL of it goes to his ass and his thighs, with a slight tummy. Everything he wears now clings to his shape, and Chef!MC can't get enough of it. Not only is it evidence that he is eating their food, he looks hot even when he's gained a bit of weight. Levi pretends he doesn't like it when Chef!MC stares at him, but at the same time he keeps wearing tighter clothing to really show off his new curves. At this point...Chef!MC can't help but pinch and kiss his thighs when they get the chance. Also, no signs of him stopping the love of their food as he's seen sneaking another snack in.

Lucifer: Out of all the Kings, unfortunately there's just no way this fallen angel can gain any weight. He just simply doesn't eat a lot. He does eat Chef!MC's food, but only to a certain extent. But even with the small amounts he does eat, sometimes Chef!MC can spot a small amount of tummy fat when he sits down and that's enough for them to know he's enjoying the food at least. But that also could have always been there. Oh well, it isn't the end of the world, but perhaps they can just imagine a chubby Lucifer eating to his hearts content.

Belphegor: Believe it or not because he sleeps so much he never has time to eat. He's also so lazy he doesn't like chewing his food most of the time and opts for soups or things he can swallow with one bite. Chef!MC however has been making really good milkshakes, and Belphie can't get enough of them. Beleth has been having a hard time picking him up lately because...he's gotten heavier. Chef!MC even notices that his face is more round as well. Now he's got that typical chubby Otaku look down, and his hair is longer than usual for whatever reason. But cuddling with him in bed has been amazing, all of his squish and curves being the perfect place for Chef!MC to rest their head.

Asmodeus: He heard that Chef!MC was cooking, sending the food to the various devils in Abaddon in their cells. He tried a bit of the food once, and needless to say he's hooked. Chef!MC has heard of some weird things he's been doing lately involving their food and it flatters them. At the same time they're slightly concerned by what it is that he's doing...especially the state of his room that's covered in...well nevermind on that. Asmodeus does like it though when Chef!MC feeds him, and it appears he's gained a bit of weight. A pinch of fat here and there, not much but enough to notice. Especially his thighs and hips that are wider than before. Chef!MC has to be careful though, one kiss or squeeze from them and that's an immediate "on" switch for this King.

Bonus+ Nobles!

Sitri: Chef!MC has been making pastries to accompany his schedule tea breaks, and he's been hooked on them. He will often ask Chef!MC for more than intended, and he hasn't been paying attention to the amount of pastries he's been eating. One day when he's bent over, his pants rip clearly indicating that his ass is getting larger. His gun straps don't fit on his thighs either like they used to. He insists that he has to hit the gym more, but Chef!MC doesn't mind and continues to make as many pastries as he desires.

Bael: He was thrilled when Chef!MC came to Abyssos, as he himself can't cook well at all. All of the nobles have been eating Chef!MC's food in abundance, and Bael figures he'd have a taste too. Before you know it, he's eaten so much, his tummy is starting to grow and his hips are spreading. Chef!MC can't get enough of it, because those skin-tight pants of his are hugging every curve, and his ass jiggles now when he walks the halls trying to get all of his tasks done.

Beleth: Since Belphie is always asleep and doesn't eat much because of it, Beleth finishes his food for him when Chef!MC brings it to him. It's crazy though, because he notices that he's put on a bit of weight. He's not unfit or unable to do his daily tasks so he doesn't care. Chef!MC is surprised to see where the fat sits on his body, his chest is larger, hips and butt large...but when he's in cat form, he's got a big fluffy belly and flops to the side with a lazy meow. Chef!MC can't help but give him belly scritches, that Harumon is jealous and wants food and belly scritches too.