#i blame him entirely for my questionable vibes

[tofangirlonly]

Does your shower playlist also involve Raise A Little Hell and as many versions of Under the Sea (JJ edition) as possible? Or is that just me?

[ozzgin]

hi! I'm the anon who said that Daitou is my #1 sweetheart, and I saw your post talking about time-skip Daitou kind in dilf vibes... I'm interested, take all of my money right now !!

also wondering how Daitou would react with a darling who wants kids 💭💭 imagine of she is having a hugeee baby fever ( not me projecting whattt)

Turning this into a general "Would the yakuza men want children?" and other bedroom habits. There's a more detailed answer for Daitou here. Content: female reader (pregnancy talk), mildly NSFW, fluff

You may think of Boss as old-fashioned, but he's seen a fair amount of depravity back in the day. Before gambling was deemed illegal in Japan, he'd owned several casinos in big districts like Ginza and Kabukichō, and consequently spent a lot of time in various parlors. Unlike many of his men, however, he never really cared much for adult entertainment. In his drunken rants he used to say that women would be his downfall, and no one would want to be involved with him, anyways.

He might be into you calling him daddy, although you should expect a lot of dad jokes to go with it. He’s a silly old man like that. Could be interested in shibari, because it takes a lot of patience and skill and he’d probably enjoy taking his time and gazing at you after each knot. It’s quiet and intimate, and he gets to tease you about it afterwards, especially if it’s an arrangement to go under your clothes. “What’s the matter, (Y/N) love? Tongue tied?”

His recurring humor around his age makes you wonder if he’d even be interested in children. When you finally bring up the topic, Boss is very casual about it. “Sure”, he’ll say with a grin, “whatever the missus wants.” You suspect he’s not taking you seriously, but after settling you on his lap and having a hearty laugh about it, he’ll conclude, this time with confidence: “Have a look outside this room. See all those rascals? I raised them! Ya think I can’t handle a bunch of kids?”

Daitou can be surprisingly (and unintentionally) kinky, especially if you encourage him to. He’ll apologize the day after for being too rough, even if you tell him it's fine and you quite literally asked for it (See Valentine's Day incident). Overall, though, I’d say it depends entirely on you. He can be dominant or submissive, according to your wishes. You can go all out with him, he’s sturdier than most and takes great pride in it. If you’re into more extreme hobbies like knife play, you’re certainly in good hands.

Daitou lives in the moment and hasn't really planned too far ahead. Such is the life of a yakuza: you never know when you might lose a limb or more in the next gang fight. He's therefore quite surprised by your proposal of having children in the future. Is it even something realistic for someone like him? On the other hand, it's hard to refuse that enthusiastic smile you're flashing at him each time the topic comes up. "Do you, uh...", he begins one day while looking at baby toys in the store. He fidgets with his prosthetic eye nervously. "Do you really think I'd make a good dad? Heh."

Kazuya can be quite kinky and loves teasing you in public about it. Last time you were hanging out with him and his underlings, you happened to pass by a park bench you'd recently used during your nightly strolls together. “This location is familiar”, he’ll hum with a smirk. “Isn’t this where we…ah. Nevermind.” Despite your frequent protests, he always struggles to keep his mouth shut. Can you really blame him for wanting to brag to others? You're an undeniable catch.

"Kids?" he repeats with a raised eyebrow. Good question, although something he's considered many times already. What, you thought he wouldn't notice your curious glances whenever some woman walks by with a baby stroller? He pretends to ponder your suggestion and declares after a long moment: "Well, you'd certainly make a great milf, and I obviously can't have anyone else do the honors." He picks you up with a mischievous grin on his face. "When do we start?"

[Main Story] | [More Yakuza]

[vientoverde]

First Master of Spinjitzu first student was Nineko. Wu's first student was Morro. Lloyd's first student is Arin.

And the first two have something in common, they abandoned their teachers and became evil.

Nineko was an orphan who stole to survive until the First Master took her in and trained her. But when something was missing she blamed Nineko immediately, she assured that she didn't do it but they didn't believe her so she fled (or was expelled) from the monastery, years later being the main villain in one of the Spinjutzu Brothers books.

Morro, we all know his story. Orphaned boy from the streets that Wu took in at the monastery and trained him, things did not go well when destiny denied him being the green ninja so he fled to prove the opposite, years later returning from the dead to take revenge (and redeem himself). to the last second).

And then there is Arin, the orphan boy whose parents were taken from him by a "natural disaster" (can it be considered that way?) lost somewhere, living alone with his friend in a strange world until adolescence where he met his idol and who fell would become his teacher. He doesn't run away and turn evil like the other two, right?

Because something tells me that there is a pattern for the first students.

Nineko: I speak the truth. I didn't steal anything!...please trust me, I didn't do it.

Morro: Fate is wrong, I am the green ninja! You made me believe it!

Arin: But... you promised that we would find my parents.

I think Arin could fill the villain role or at least the resentful student vibe of the other two if you put him in the right situation.

Part of Arin's internal conflict is finding his parents, now, imagine that after the entire ninja team joins Lloyd leaves that issue a little aside, not because he doesn't care, he just doesn't realize it, plus he himself doesn't. He is necessarily close to his own parents. So Arin would have this thought of "you take me to look for your family, but you won't help me look for mine?" maybe not like that, but you get the idea, plus Arin seems stressed or angry in the new trailers, that could set off a little chain reaction.

I'm not saying that Arin would become a villain by any means, but it would be interesting to see him questioning or confronting Lloyd about something similar.

[gretavangroupie]

Goldenrod

Word count: 8.1k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Angst, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Jealousy. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I blame Josh Kiszka, entirely.

It’s a nice place, with tea light candles and fresh flowers on every table. Tucked away on the West side of Nashville, far from the wide eyed tourists and the flashing city lights. It’s quaint, but always busy. A reservation here would cost you. A name or your checkbook, either one will do. You wonder how he managed it, who he knows or what he does. You’d been here only once before, strings pulled and names dropped no doubt. 

The hostess led you to your table, smack dab in the center of the restaurant, commanding all the eyes and attention of the patrons around you. With a curt smile you tucked into your chair and waited for your date. You weren’t really sure why you agreed to this, but after several failed attempts on your own you finally caved. Cambry is a terrible influence and you knew better than to go on a date with a man of her choosing, but here you found yourself in a swanky restaurant at a table for two. 

You didn’t put too much effort into your outfit, opting for a tight black dress and a pair of gold earrings. It showed off your figure without revealing too much. It was tasteful and sexy, everything you want on a first date. 

You knew nothing of the man you were meeting apart from his name. Simon. Cambry assured you that he was perfect for you, claiming how similar the two of you were and citing you had similar taste in music. So, you agreed. 

You couldn’t fault him too much for being late, the traffic absolutely horrendous as you made your way through Midtown. You perused the drink menu, placing your order for a dirty martini when the waiter stopped at your table. As you sipped at the briney drink you felt a presence behind you, and you knew Simon must have arrived. 

A tall man, with long dirty blonde hair stepped up to the seat across from you, lifting his hand to shake yours. 

“Hi, I’m Simon. Sorry I’m late, the traffic–”

“Was terrible, I know,” you laugh, shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

He takes his seat as his eyes dart around your face taking you in. “You got a drink I see, any recommendations? I’ve never been here before.”

“I was wondering how you were able to pull a reservation so last minute,” you answer, pushing the drink menu towards him. 

“Ah, called up one of my buddies, works tickets down at Nissan Stadium. Was no trouble,” he boasts as if entry level ticket sales is something to be proud of. 

You smile politely and nod your head, “I got a dirty martini, they are heavy handed on the vermouth so I order gin instead of vodka.”

“Dirty, huh?” he smirks, opening the drink menu. 

You offer a clipped smile, already not liking this guy too much. His frat boy vibes are a little too strong for your liking, and quite frankly is the opposite of what you have ever been into. The waiter steps up a few seconds later, noticing that your date has arrived. 

“What can I get for you sir?”

“I don’t know what all this fancy shit is, do you have Bud Light?” he asks, rapping his knuckles against the table. 

“Um, no sir, I believe the only beer we have on tap is Thunder Ann from Jackalope,” he offers with a pleasant smile. 

“Was that English?” Simon jokes, however, it is not well received by your waiter or yourself. 

“I could bring you a sample if you’d like?” 

He blows out a breath of defeat, “I’ll just have what she’s having, but make mine stronger.”

You raise an eyebrow at his demand, silently kicking yourself for ever agreeing to this. 

The waiter nods and heads off and a sense of dread washes over you as you realize you are about to enter into forced conversation with this stranger. 

“So how do you know Cambry?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he's at his mothers house. 

You swallow down the distaste and try to answer his question, “Cambry and I work together. She is my office suitemate.”

“Oh so you work at the little music place, too?” he asks, downplaying your career to boost his own ego. 

“I don’t think Sony Music Publishing is a ‘little music place’ but I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion,” you jest.

“What do you do there?” he asks, accepting his drink from the waiter. He takes far too large of a sip before you can answer, shocking the both of you. 

“I’m an account executive, so I do sales, client management, data reports, that kind of thing. How about you? What do you do?” you ask, genuinely curious about what he could possibly do that he would need to belittle your career. 

“Oh well, right now I am kinda just playing the corporate field so to speak. I’ve got a few sweet options in my pocket, but uh, right now I am working down at AT&T. You know that Batman looking building. It’s pretty chill,” he says in an attempt to flaunt.

“Yeah, I know it well actually. What do you do there?” you ask. 

“I’m a field sales representative,” he answers, his voice dropping a little. You feel your eyes practically bulge from their sockets. 

“So, you don’t like, physically work in the building,” you confirm. 

“I mean, I report there at the end of the day,” he replies, trying to blow smoke.

“So if you report there at the end of the day, where do you spend your day?�� you ask. 

“Kind of everywhere. I do a lot of driving around. I was able to secure a deal with a new Mexican restaurant over in Hendersonville. They want full fiber and phones. Pretty sweet, might even make a commission on it,” he says pridefully. 

“Wow, a commission too? They are spoiling you,” you taunt. 

“Yeah, I’m about to move up, gonna put me into commercial sales. More office time and less road time,” he says, folding up his menu. Your mind is positively racing at how Cambry thought you two would be a perfect match when he couldn’t be more different than you. 

“So uh, what are you thinking you want to eat?” he asks. 

“I think I might do the farmhouse pasta, the sun dried tomatoes sound good,” you answer, closing your menu as well. 

“Yeah I’m gonna get a steak, I bet they are good here,” he says waving over the waiter. Your face blushes red as he makes a scene to grab his attention.

“Yes sir, we are ready to order,” Simon states, opening up his menu. “I’m gonna have the Porterhouse with mushrooms well done and can you bring a side of ketchup?” 

You think that if your eyes rolled any harder you could see your brain, but alas you must keep your composure and make it through this trainwreck of a date.  

“For you miss?”

“Yes, could I please do the farmhouse pasta? I will also do one more dirty martini,” you smile, hoping the waiter can sense the apology in your tone. 

“Great, I will be back,” he says, stepping away with the gentle nod of his head. 

The evening continues on as you listen to him tell you every uninteresting fact about himself while he dips his shoe leather of a steak in ketchup. You have a hard time finding your own meal appetizing as you watch him eat, a tiny dribble of ketchup at the corner of his lips. He barely gives you a chance to speak as he relives his fraternity glory days, telling you every close call he has ever had with the police and every famous person’s door he’s knocked on since he moved here from Mississippi. 

You down your drink probably a little too fast, trying to decide if you will need another to make it through the last part of this date. You know you will never speak to this man again, and you know you will be giving Cambry a firm talking to come Monday morning. 

The waiter steps up to the table with the check, placing it in front of Simon who sends him a puzzled look. “Oh, actually she’s getting the check tonight.”

“Am I?” you ask, a little confused yourself. You had no problem going dutch, but to be told you were taking the entire responsibility of the bill was a bit of a shock. 

“I mean, yeah, Cambry said you wanted this date, so… I figured since it was your idea, you were paying. I didn’t bring my wallet.”

You feel your mouth go dry at the audacity of his assumption. “I have no problem going dutch,” you say. 

“Yeah, it’s just I didn’t bring my wallet,” he counters, shrugging his shoulders. “I can Venmo you later or something.”

You bite your tongue as you reach for your purse, knowing there is an extremely high chance that this meal will drain his checking account. 

“It’s fine, I can get it. No problem,” you say, pulling your wallet from your purse. Just as you unzip it you feel someone walk up behind you, and the sight of a hand on the waiter's arm. The person leans towards the waiter, saying something quietly in his ear as he slips a silver metal credit card into his hand. 

As you look up you recognize the mass of curls and the crisp white linen. The smell of his cologne forever ingrained in your memory.  Your eyes flash over to Simon who is just as confused as you are, watching the interaction. A few more words are spoken between the waiter and the man you now know is Josh. Your ex. 

The waiter scurries off with Josh’s card just as he turns to face you with a shit eating grin. He then casts a lethal glance to Simon, who at this point is looking rather small. 

“Don’t you know it's distasteful to make your date pay?” he asks, venom in his voice. 

“And you are?” Simon snaps. 

“Well, from my place at the bar I thought I was the competition, but now I’m fairly positive that is not the case. My name is Josh, and I would ask yours but quite frankly I don’t care to know.”

“Josh!” you yelp. 

“What darling, you can’t deny the facts. I’ve been sitting at the bar since you arrived. Was quite the unexpected show, I must admit,” he pauses, “If I’ve misjudged your evening, which, I’m sure I haven’t based on your body language alone, please do feel free to correct me.”

“We’re actually on a date, man,” Simon speaks up, taking you and Josh both by surprise as you turn to stare at him. 

Josh just snickers, shaking his head before turning to you. “Have you had enough, sweets?”

“What do you want, Joshua?” you ask, a little annoyed at his brazenness. 

He cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger as he gives you a knowing look, “Is this what you want? You want me to go?”

You push his hand away and cross your arms over your chest, refusing to answer his question.

“Fuck this,” Simon spouts, pushing away from the table and storming out of the restaurant. 

Josh quickly takes his seat, sitting across from you as he folds his hands on the table. “You’re welcome,” he taunts, accepting the check book back from the waiter.

“A pleasure Mr. Kiszka,” he nods, walking away. 

“Mr. Kiszka? They know you by name here?” you groan, watching a sideways grin pull across his full lips. His eyes glance down to the plate of half eaten food in front of him.

“A well done steak with ketchup? My, my, darling have your standards dipped that low?” he asks, signing the receipt and closing the book. You roll your eyes and reach for your martini glass, however his hand snakes out to grab it first, tossing the rest of it back. 

“What the hell,” you growl. 

“You dumped me for a broke asshole?” he asks, sitting back in the chair. 

“He might have been broke, but I bet he could fuck me more than once every three months,” you snap, pulling ammo from your failed past. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Now, now, retract the claws sweetness, be my good girl, yeah?”

“I’m not your anything, Josh, and I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I can promise you it’s not.”

He stabs at the olive in the martini glass, popping it between his lips. “You sure about that?”

“You completely derailed my date,” you bark. 

“Oh, please Y/N. You were ready to go the moment he introduced himself, late, might I add. You were entirely repulsed through dinner, and you couldn't get a word in edgewise. It may have been a year or so since we called it quits, but I still know you like the back of my hand, darling.”

“You don’t know me like that anymore, Josh.”

He chews the olive as a hum rings through his chest, “Is that why your thighs are clenched together under the table right now, for the first time tonight? Why you can’t seem to sit still, squirming everytime I look at you? The pretty pink blush on your cheeks that happened to appear as soon as I stole his seat? Because I just don’t know you anymore?”

You shake your head and look away, pushing him out of your mind. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he demands, and instinctually you turn your head. “Own it.”

You meet his eyes and huff out an annoyed breath. “You can’t just walk up to me and think we are going to pick up where we left off. I left you for a reason, Josh.”

“Are you ready to go now that you’ve said your piece?” he asks, pushing his chair away from the table. 

“I drove myself here, and I’ll drive myself home,” you quip. 

“After two martinis, I don’t think so, sweetness. I’ll send for your car in the morning,” he insists. 

“Send for my car? What are you, the Pope?” 

“Only the one time if you remember correctly,” he jokes, offering his hand to help you stand from your chair. You take it begrudgingly, grabbing your purse and smoothing out your dress. 

“Stunning as usual, love. You know I love that silhouette on you,” he says, ushering the two of you out the door and into the parking lot. He drives a different car now, which is probably why you didn't recognize it in the lot when you arrived. 

“It wasn’t for you,” you gripe. 

“But it was for him? Mister can’t even split the check?” he counters. 

“Again, he may not be made of money, but he at least listened the few times I was able to get a word in,” you snap. 

Josh sucks his teeth as he opens the passenger door, helping you climb inside. It’s spacious and smells of new leather. A string of beads hangs from the rearview mirror and a tiny crystal lays haphazardly in the center console. He joins you seconds later, starting the car and backing out of the parking space. 

“Where are you taking me?” you question, although you’re fairly certain you know the answer. 

“Home,” he snickers, taking a right out of the parking lot. 

“You don’t know where I live, I moved,” you say, shifting your body in the seat. 

“No, no. I said, I am taking you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you ask, fully lying to yourself and to him and he knows it. 

“I did always like it when you played hard to get,” he smiles, moving his hand to rest on your bare leg. “But your body gives you away everytime.”

“Where’d you find him?” he asks, letting his eyes flick over to yours for just a second. 

“Cambry,” you answer, a twinge of defeat in your voice. 

“Cambry? Come on, baby, you know she has the worst taste in men,” he groans, merging onto the freeway with ease. 

“I didn’t really have a choice, and she oversold him, clearly,” you answer. 

“So you’re still at Sony, then?”

“I am, though I’ve been considering a career change, maybe even a city change,” you lie.

“Had enough of Nashville?” he jests.

“The people that reside here,” you taunt. 

“Fair enough,” he concedes. 

His fingers trace circles into your skin, lighting little fires with every pass. “You stopped answering my calls,” he trails off. 

“That is typical of a break up Josh…”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap. 

“What can I call you?” he asks. 

“Nothing, you can take me home and send my car in the morning,” you answer. 

His grip on your leg tightens, his thumb passing over your knee. You feel warm beneath his touch, a calmness washing over you. This is always how he got you. 

“It was one fight, Y/N! I know I fucked up, but–” he shouts, losing his calm and cool composure for a millisecond. 

“Josh…” you whine, not wanting to hash this out again.

As you pull up to a red light he turns to look at you, moving his hand from your leg and grabbing your hand instead. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just– come over for a little bit. Let’s talk. Catch up a little. Don’t let your night be a complete loss, you look too pretty. Let me appreciate you,” he says, squeezing your hand. 

Your eyes meet his, sparkling and encased by his thick lashes. “Okay,” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes and nod your head, “Yes, fine. Just to catch up.”

The light changes and you swear he did twenty over the speed limit the rest of the way to his house. He has a smirk on his lips that he can’t seem to shake, and his hand hasn't left yours.

“Why were you at the bar alone?” you ask, the gin making you feel a little more brave than usual. 

“I like the food, and they make my drink the right way. You know I don’t like going into the city, too many people, and the guys were all busy tonight. I think I was right where I needed to be though. Got you out of that shitty date,” he laughs. 

“It was pretty shitty,” you agree, flashing him a smile. 

“Missed that,” he says, turning into his driveway. “That smile. Lights up a room.”

“Stop,” you say, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Don’t suck up now after you were all bossy and demanding at the restaurant.”

“Worked though,” he grins, shrugging his shoulders and shutting off the car. 

“Did it?”

“You’re here…” he says, tipping his chin. 

“To talk. To catch up,” you counter. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he says, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you. He guides you up to the front door with his hand on the small of your back, shoving his key into the lock and opening the door. 

You’re instantly transported back in time. A time when this was your safe place, when this was your landing pad of comfort. A home you shared together. Warm and welcoming. Until, it wasn’t. It was a big empty house with nothing but the echo of your own voice for months on end. The place you would listen to your calls ring out with no answer and texts would sit on delivered for days. 

It was hard to leave him, your personal ray of light. The good times were the greatest, and the bad times were worse than the worst. You met your breaking point and all you could think of was starting over. Living a normal life with a normal job and a normal relationship. 

You’d grown a little since that day, finding yourself and establishing your own roots in the city. You cut off contact completely. Josh never gave up though. He was persistent, you’d give him that. He tried to reconcile things, promised to fix it, promised to do better, but after so many failed attempts, you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to see this through, for yourself. 

It took almost a year but he did stop calling. Stopped checking in. Your heart ached for him. You wondered if you’d made a mistake. You knew you never really stopped loving him. How could you stop loving someone like him? He took your heart and cast it in gold, giving a piece of himself to you to carry when he was away, but still it wasn’t enough. You needed more than he could give you then. 

“You redecorated,” you ponder. 

“A bit. Just some new furniture, art and things I picked up on the road,” he says, tossing his keys on the table. “You like it?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I do. It feels very… you.” you pause, “It feels warm.”

He walks into the kitchen, pulling two lowball glasses from the cabinet before reaching for the tequila on top of the fridge. He holds the bottle up towards you in question and you nod your head, knowing you aren’t leaving tonight. 

He pours the tequila into the glasses, topping them with sparkling water and a handful of ice as you walk over to join him. He slides the glass to you and holds his up to tap against yours. 

“Glad you’re here, baby,” he breathes. 

“Josh…”

“Sorry, old habit,” he blushes, taking a sip of his drink. 

You join him, taking a long pull from the glass letting the bubbles slip down your throat. He made it perfect, just how you like it. 

“Shall we?” he asks, pushing off the counter top and making his way into the living room. You follow behind him taking the seat next to him on the couch. You settle into the leather cushions as he shoots up again. 

“Wait, hold on,” he says, walking across the room. He struts across the wood floors carrying himself in a way much different than you have ever seen him. He looks confident and seems to be floating. He grabs a small remote and turns down the lights, casting the room in a much dimmer light. 

“Do you always walk around like that?” you ask, sipping from the rim of your glass. 

“Like what?” he asks, returning to his place next to you. 

“Like…like you’re made of gold,” you giggle, letting the tequila warm your blood. 

“What if I am?” he challenges. 

“What, made of gold?” 

“Mhmm,” he hums. 

“Kinda seems like it sometimes,” you confess. 

“Yeah?”

“You kinda glow,” you answer. 

“Optical illusion, sweets,” he grins.

“I don’t know, you’ve always kinda been that way. Glowy…” you offer, feeling a little hazy. 

“You flirting with me now?” he asks, his lips turning up into a grin. 

“No,” you growl, “Can I not give you a compliment?”

“Absolutely. Please do continue, I’m quite enjoying it,” he laughs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. His fingertips brush your shoulder and you shudder at the contact. 

“Has it been that long, darling?”

“What?” you question, turning to meet his eyes. His fingers graze against your skin again, goosebumps rising to the surface. 

“Oh, say it isn’t so, baby. Break my heart,” he whines. 

“What, Josh?”

“You’re touch starved aren’t you sweetness,” he says, his eyes searching yours. 

“No, I’m fine,” you lie. You look away, knowing he was always able to read you like a book. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he snaps. You turn your head and meet his eyes again. “Don’t lie to me again. You know that never went well for you.”

You bite your lips together as your cheeks grow red hot. Part of you wants to push him a little more, force him to make good on his threat. The other part of you knows you should leave before he sucks you in. 

“Tell me how long,” he says, resting his hand on the curve of your neck. 

You blow out a breath and shake your head, “It’s not important,” you answer. 

“Is to me, always important to me,” he urges. 

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know that you were being taken care of,” he pauses, “I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“It’s been… a minute,” you confess. 

“Baby,” he breathes. 

“It’s fine, Josh. Really.”

“It’s not,” he snaps. “How long, love? You can tell me. It’s just me.”

“God! Since we split! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear?! That I haven’t fucked anyone since you?!” you shout, burying your head in your hands. You feel his hand rest on your back, warm and firm. 

“Oh, my love. No wonder you’re so feisty. Wound up tighter than a two dollar watch. My girl needs a little relief, doesn’t she,” he asks. 

You turn your head in your hands to look at him, his face serious and dripping with lust. You push yourself up off of the couch, pacing around the living room. 

“I don’t want your pity, Josh.”

“It’s not pity darling, you’d know if it was,” he retorts. 

“Well whatever it is, I don’t want it,” you snap. 

He blows out a deep breath and clears his throat, “I’ve had just about enough of your mouth tonight,” he growls. “Why don’t you come back over here and try again, yeah?”

You stare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest in an effort to conceal your nipples that have grown hard just from the demanding quality of his voice. 

“You can drop the act, I know you want me just as bad as I want you. If you want me to beg, crawl on my hands and knees for you, you know I’ll do it, but I think your body is begging for me harder than I ever could.”

You roll your eyes, and look away. 

“Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong.”

You huff out a breath, “No,” you whisper. 

“What’s that?”

“I said no,” you answer. 

A smirk pulls across his lips, “No, what?”

You feel your chest grow warm and you swallow thickly, “No, sir.”

He clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me sir, that's my brother. Try again, love.”

“No, baby,” you breathe. 

“That’s better. Much better. Come back over here,” he says, motioning you over with two fingers. 

He reaches for your hand as you approach him, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs fall to either side of his hips as you straddle him, the position feeling familiar and comforting. 

“There’s my girl,” he growls, leaning forward to place his drink on the coffee table. His hands move to grip at your hips, holding you in place as he sinks a little further beneath you. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying this, feeling his hands on you and the evidence of his want as it grew beneath you. 

“Not yours, Josh,” you say, letting your hands land on his chest. 

“Liar,” he breathes, rolling his hips into you, eliciting a whine from your chest. You hear him laugh, “Your body says otherwise.”

“My body has never been able to say no to you,” you admit. 

“And that's what I love about it, baby. Mine even when you aren’t.”

A sigh falls from your lips as his thumb drags over your lips, “Kiss me, Josh,” you beg.

A grin pulls across his lips as he pulls you by the back of your neck towards him. His soft, warm lips brush yours just slightly, enough to pull a whine from your chest. 

“Now who’s begging?” he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, dark and lust filled before he crashes his lips to yours. His hands grip at your head as if he’s afraid you might fly away, his fingers twisting into your hair.

His tongue slides against yours, the taste of him so sweet and familiar. There would never be anyone that tasted better, you were sure of it. His hands slid down your face and over your shoulders, reaching for your hands as they sat on his chest. He wrapped his hands around yours, linking his fingers with yours the best he could, just holding you in a way you’ve desperately missed over the last year without him. 

“Josh…” you breathe. 

His lips break away from yours, his cheeks pink and his lips glossy, “Yeah, baby?”

You hesitate asking your question, momentarily debating whether you truly want to know or not, but you know if this night is going to continue, you have to know. 

“How long…” you pause, “How long for you?” It comes out breathless, his warm hands in yours as his lips hover over yours. 

He pulls back a touch, licking his lips and swallowing harshly, “A month or two,” he answers honestly. 

Your traitorous eyes fill with tears and you do your best to blink them away. You drop your head in an effort to conceal your emotions, knowing this is all entirely your fault to begin with. His hand releases yours and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“They were never you. Not a single one of them could ever be you.”

You nod your head and swallow the lump in your throat, “Then why?”

“It’s been a year, baby. I never thought I’d have you again,” he confesses. 

“But you want me?” you ask, just wanting to hear him say it. 

“Is that not clear? Of course I want you. I never stopped wanting you. You stopped wanting me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t, I just– It was too hard, I couldn’t do it anymore. It hurt too much.”

He grabs your face in his hands again, holding eye contact with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I know I messed up. I’ve thought of it every single day since you left. I’m so sorry.”

You can see it in his eyes that he means it this time. The urgency in his voice and the trembling of his hands against your face prove it. You decide at that moment to cast the memories of the past to the wind and fall headfirst into him, the way you’ve dreamt of for months. 

You press your lips to his, smiling, “Tequila always did make you all mushy, baby.”

A smile pulls across his lips as he stands from the couch, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he makes his way to the stairs. His lips connect to your jaw, peppering kisses up and down your neck with every step he takes. 

It’s seconds before you’re tossed onto the bed. The bed you’ve missed so terribly. The bed that smells of him and his linen sheets. You melt into the comforter, your body relaxing almost immediately. Your eyes close and all you can hear is the shedding of clothes across the room, and the tinkling of beads as Josh places his necklace on the dresser. 

You feel his hand as it comes to rest on your foot, sliding up the length of your body and stopping just as it reaches the hem of your dress. You sit up on your elbows to look at him, standing at the end of the bed in his boxers. 

His gaze is fixed upon you, devouring your every inch.

“Joshy?” you breathe. 

He drops his head for a second before looking back at you, “God I haven’t heard that in so long,” he whines. “What sweetness?”

“Come lay down with me,” you ask. 

He licks his lips and crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you and resting his hand on your hip. “Hi beautiful.”

“Hi baby,” you whisper, rolling towards him. You lay your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart as it pounds erratically in his chest. 

“I missed this bed,” you whisper against his skin. 

“I missed you in this bed,” he pauses, “Terribly lonely without you.”

“Not too lonely it sounds like,” you tease, sitting up and stepping off of the bed.  

“Baby, I–”

“I’m kidding, Josh. I don’t mind. Well, not completely anyway.”

You pull the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor and instinctively kicking it to the chair at the side of the bed like you'd done a thousand times before. 

“So you care a little?” he smirks, taking in the sight of your matching lingerie. “Jesus, was that for him?”

“If all went well,” you answer cheekily, crawling back onto the bed. 

“Over my dead body,” he growls, grabbing your arm and pulling you to lay on top of him. 

“It was for me. I needed a little confidence boost.”

“Baby, what? Why? You were always so confident and cool,” he asks, furrowing his brow. 

“Not lately… A few failed dates will do that to you I guess,” you admit. 

“No, no no no no. Don’t let a few pricks dull your glow, sweetness. You’re everything. They’d be lucky to have you.”

You push up off of him, crawling backwards down the bed as you place a few errant kisses across his stomach. Your eyes never leave his as you stop above his waistband, sliding your nails against the elastic. 

“What if I never wanted them,” you ask. 

He sucks in a breath as your finger dips beneath the band, slightly tugging at the fabric. 

“What do you want?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. 

You pull his boxers over his hips watching his cock spring free to slap against his groin. You take him in your hand, watching as his face twists up in pleasure. 

“Tell me,” he growls through gritted teeth. 

Instead of answering him you let your tongue lick a hot stripe from his base to his tip, tasting the bitter sweetness of his precum on your tongue. His core tightens as you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue against his length, feeling every vein and the rapid pulse pounding through him. 

His hand finds the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches you take him down so easily, remembering exactly how he likes it. You grip his base as you work him, hollowing your cheeks as you eyes meet his. His lips are parted, a heavy breath leaving his chest as his grip on your hair tightens. You take him farther, swallowing around his tip as he nudges the back of your throat, sending him spiraling in his own bliss. 

“Fuck, baby, please…” he begs. 

You pop off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. “Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” he asnwers, panting as he desperately awaits your mouths return to him. 

“I’m kind of enjoying myself here,” you tease, taking him into your throat again. 

“Fucking hell, you’re so goddamn sexy. I fucking– I–” he stammers, groaning as you swallow around him again. 

“You think of this, baby? You miss sucking my cock? My good fucking girl,” he asks, jerking his hips up off of the bed. “You think of me like I think of you?”

You groan as your tongue swirls at his tip, letting your eyes meet his. 

“Answer me,” he demands. 

You pull off of him quickly, a spit covered mess, “Yes, yes baby,” you whine. 

“Missed your mouth, your perfect fucking mouth. Your lips, your tongue, everything,” he growls, a moan leaving his chest as you suction your mouth around him. “Pull off baby, not yet. Not ready yet.”

You do as you're told, pulling off of him and wiping your lips on the back of your hand. He grabs your chin and pulls you toward him, his wet cock laying against your panties. His lips meet yours, swollen and pink and still glistening with your spit. He’s desperate to taste you, to devour you completely. You feel his hands slide over your waist and up to your bra, unclasping the hooks and pulling the straps from your arms. He pulls it from between you in one move, before turning you to your back to take in the sight of you. 

His eyes practically bulge from his head as he looks at you. “You– You pierced your nipples? When did you? Wha– Fucking Christ.”

A smile spreads across your face. It's not very often you can catch Josh off guard like this, so you’re taking this small victory. 

“About seven months ago, on a whim,” you answer. 

“Anything else I should know about before I have a stroke?” he laughs. 

“Why don’t you just find out?” you say playfully, just wanting to see his reaction. 

He pulls the elastic of your panties over your hips, tossing the lacy garment to the floor. His tongue darts out over his lips as he looks at you, as if deciding where he wants to start. Though, you knew Josh, and he would forever be a victim to his own fascination with shiny objects. 

His lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue gently flicking over the golden barbell. You lace your fingers into his curls, scratching at his roots as his teeth graze the sensitive bud in his mouth. 

“Josh,” you whine, arching your back beneath him. 

“Mhmm,” he whines, not letting his lips detach from you. 

“Missed your touch,” you answer. 

He pulls off of your right breast and kisses his way to your left, treating your left nipple with the same reverence as the previous. You grab his hand and pull his fingers to your lips, sucking his first two digits into your mouth and letting your tongue twist against them. 

You hear him groan against you, the sensation becoming a little too overwhelming for him. 

“You okay, baby?”

He pulls off of you, still staring down at the shiny gold bars adorning your nipples. 

“No, fuck no, I’m never gonna stop thinking about these,” he says through a pant. 

A laugh bubbles up from your chest as his hand meets your chest, sliding down your stomach and stopping at your hip. 

“You gonna let me in, sweetness?” he asks, biting at his bottom lip. 

A smirk pulls at your lips as you look at him, nodding gently. His hand slides down further, his fingers dusting across your folds. Your body quivers at his gentle touch, a small grin of satisfaction on his lips. 

“You want it?”

“Stop teasing, Josh,” you whine. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you need it. I’ll give you what you want. You know that, right?”

You nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you. Needing it more than anything. “Yes, yes, I know. Please…”

He bends forward and presses a kiss to your stomach, two fingers sinking into your wetness. You jerk towards him as his fingertips press to your clit, a whine escaping your lips before you can stop it. He hums as his fingers start to circle through your wetness, his lip bitten firmly between his teeth. His eyes are dark as they stare into yours, watching your every move and memorizing every expression.

“You feel so good, baby. Missed this so bad,” he breathes, teasing your entrance. 

“You could have had anyone,” you whisper. 

“I didn’t want anyone. Just you.”

His fingers dip into you, finding the place they once knew so well. Your hand moves to rest on his bicep, stronger now than they once were, the muscle rounded and defined. In fact, all of him is that way. Lean and fit, stronger and more chiseled. The thought alone makes you clench around his fingers. 

“Yeah?” 

“You feel so– so different. Stronger,” you say. 

“Needed something to fill the time,” he smiles, curling his fingers inside of you. You cry out in bliss as your stomach starts to tighten. 

“So good, baby,” you cry. 

“Yeah, you gonna come for me? You gonna come right on my fingers, so needy and sweet,” he urges. His fingers are moving rapidly, working you toward your release better than you could have imagined. 

“Ease into it, baby. Don’t rush it. I’m right here, not going anywhere. I’m yours,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. 

Your eyes meet his, desperate and lust filled, “Mine?” 

He nods his head quickly, “Yours,” he pauses, “If you want, I just– I’m here, okay? Take your time, feel it. Breathe it in, savor it. I’m here.”

“I want it,” you plead.

“Have it, have me,” he breathes. 

His fingers move at a relentless pace, fingertips massaging into you with such precision it’s like a year never passed. Your chest grows hot and your stomach tightens as his eyes meet yours, both of you knowing you’re on the edge of release. 

“Do it. Take it baby,” he growls. 

“Josh,” you whine, reaching for his hand and twisting your fingers with his. His grip is tight on you, grounding you the way you need him to. 

With another flick of his thumb across your clit, you’re sent spiraling into your release. You’d never been able to replicate the way it feels when it's by his hand, and you were sure no other man could. His hand slows as your eyes open, finding his full of desire as they stare back at you. 

He grins as he presses a kiss to your mound, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, the want for him coursing through you like never before. You need him. You need him now.

“Josh, now,” you pant, your chest still heaving as you catch your breath. 

He doesn’t hesitate. There are no witty remarks, no jokes, no playful banter at all. Just the need the two of you share for each other taking center stage. He pushes up and crawls up towards you, falling into the space between your legs. He pushes them further apart with his knees, fisting at his base as he stares at you. You swear you can see his heart pounding in his chest, and you know he needs this as badly as you do. 

He lowers himself down to you, brushing his tip through your folds. Your hands come up to his face, cradling his cheeks as you press your lips to his. It's different this time, a little less desperate, more intentional. He lets himself slowly sink inside of you as his lips dance with yours, filling you so fully and so completely, the way he always had. 

He bottoms out inside of you, sliding his arm beneath your hips to pull you in close. His eyes meet yours in question and you nod, letting him know you need more. He begins to slowly move his hips, rolling into you at a fairly gentle pace, soaking in every inch of you and savoring every sound that falls from your lips. 

Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter, desperate for all of him. He groans as your chest presses against his, the coolness of the metal bars against his warm, dewy skin pulling a groan from his chest. 

“Baby,” he whines, snapping his hips into you a little harder. 

“Josh,” you answer, more of a moan. 

“I need this,” he says, moving his hand to cradle your jaw. “I need you.”

“I know, baby,” you cry out, “I know. I need you, too. I fucking need you.”

He groans as he drops his head, letting his lips connect with your neck. His hot tongue slides against your skin before he sucks the skin into a fresh pink bite. His pace quickens, his skin slick with sweat as he pounds into you. 

“Tell me that you think someone could fuck you better than this,” he growls. 

“Fuck, no. No one. No one but you, Josh. I only want you,” you answer, gripping your fingers into his ass. 

His demeanor changes, he’s grown animalistic, grunts and groans falling from his lips as he nears the peak of his release. 

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore,” he demands.

“Josh, I–”

“Say it,” he barks. 

“I do! I do love you! You know I still fucking love you!” you cry, feeling the coil tighten in your groin. 

A cry falls from his chest, echoing around the room as his lips crash to yours. It's rough and desperate, and you know you just told him everything he’s been waiting to hear. 

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he pants, “Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.”

You nod your head desperately, needing to feel his lips on yours again. His strokes start to quicken, hitting you long and deep as you both teeter on the edge of your orgasm. The wet sounds dancing through the air are deafening, and the heat of his breath on your face has you dizzy. 

“Josh, baby,” you whine, knowing you won't last much longer. 

“Yeah? Yeah you gonna come again? Bloom like a pretty flower just for me?” he urges, knowing the sound of his voice will push you over the edge. He nods his head, and bites his bottom lip as he watches you, squirming and panting beneath him as his cock hits you right where it belongs. 

“Come on sweetness, be my pretty flower, come for me,” he whispers against your lips. 

His hand cups at your breast as his fingers brush your piercing, letting his thumb and forefinger pinch at your nipple. The sensation is enough to bring you to the brink, letting you dive headfirst into your release. You cry out beneath him, his name falling from your lips in succession. 

“Just like that, my love. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he says, pulling you closer to him as his hips continue to work you through it. “I’m there sweetheart, tell me where.”

“You know where, I’m yours,” you plead. 

He snaps his hips into you again, holding you in place as he spills inside of you, the most beautiful noises falling from his lips. He comes down, loosening his grip on your hips as he falls slack on top of you. Your arms wrap around him, your hand drifting up into his sweaty curls as he catches his breath. 

“I mean it,” he breathes, “I do love you.” He props his head up on your chest, letting his eyes meet yours. 

“You know I love you, Josh.”

He cranes his neck forward and kisses you again, and you can almost feel the smile on his lips. “Does this mean you’ll come home? Let me love you again?”

“Is that you asking me?” you tease. 

“I’ll call the movers right now,” he taunts. 

“You forgive me for leaving you in the first place?” you ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice. 

“I deserved it. I know what I lost.”

“I keep my apartment,” you counter. 

“But you’ll be with me when I’m here?” he asks with questioning eyes. 

“If that’s what you want,” you answer. 

“No more dates with assholes who don’t deserve you?” he smirks. 

“No more dates, just you,” you nod. 

“I’ll do it right this time, give you everything. I promise.”

His lips press to yours, soft and sweet and barely there, sealing his promise and setting your heart aflame. He rolls off of you, laying next to you as close as he can get.

“You said I’m your flower,” you pause, “What kind?”

He pulls you into his side, hitching your leg up over his waist. “Hmm, a poppy perhaps? A bright red one, maybe orange.”

You giggle at the fact he has picked such an outlandish flower. “Why’s that?”

He turns his head to look at you and raises his eyebrow playfully, “The seeds are an opiate and can provide intense pleasure to the consumer, and you, my sweets, are certainly a drug to me.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, feeling him pull you in tighter. He kisses your head and lets out a sigh. 

“What about me, am I a flower, darling?”

“Of course you are,” you pause, looking at him. “Too easy, you’re Goldenrod.”

“Isn’t that a weed?” he laughs, running his fingertips against your bare thigh. 

“Technically, but it’s beautiful. It’s wild and free and vibrant. Thrives in the warm sunshine and sways in the breeze. They’re made of gold, just like you,” you smile, flashing him a wink. 

“Although, it is poisonous,” you add. 

He rolls to face you completely, cupping your face in his hand as he smiles, “You know what they say…”

“What’s that,” you question. 

“The worst poison always tastes the sweetest.”

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Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj @dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 1/5

The crowd picked two blacklisted shows for me to watch during Pride, which were Love in the Air and The Untamed, and so even though I finished the first, I've stalled on the second, and it's all because of the beast named SOTUS. I watched this show when it aired in 2016, but I don't remember any of it. All I remember is that I'm very mad at it, yet this was the wild card show that was unlocked during the voting, so instead of fearing this show so much that I cannot bring myself to finish The Untamed, I'm going straight to the big boss, and fighting this demon NOW!

It's me and the gear in a battle until the very end, and even though I cannot remember a single thing about this show, as soon as I pressed play, all the hate in my body rose to the surface, so I already know this is going to be a ~journey~

First and foremost, I'm going to give this show and Krist a compliment because I HATE Arthit, which is exactly what I should be doing in the first episode. He is 🎶The Worst🎶 and he leans all the way into it. He snarls. He yells. He forces a girl to give him her number through mere power dynamics and sexism, and this isn't just 2024-me thinking this. 2016-me knows that this character is written well because the worst thing Arthit can think of doing to another man is making him say he is gay.

Then to casually whisper in that man's ear that he could find him a skirt to wear . . .

Arthit really is the epitome of the homophobe-to-homo character and I can't believe that it worked in 2016 since I feel that was late for a character like this to still be a love interest, yet it's still working so well in 2024 because here I am, pissed, pressed, and ready to fuck him up for being the douchiest bro in this damn cafeteria. It's refreshing how much I'm allowed to hate him.

Because even the way he screams Kongpob's name with his student ID every fucking two seconds is setting me off.

And I'm very disappointed in BL Land for only ONE video existing of him screaming Kongpob's name, and it's only the times from the first half of the first episode. Thanks, OP, but we are slacking!

But, honestly, if I had a boy who looked up at me like this every time I screamed his name, I'd probably be a lot worse than Arthit. You know, instigating fights and hands on me or something like that.

And now I'm questioning this series because if these two would just choke each other out then kiss, I would be fully for it and enjoying all my snacks along the way. I'd be fine with Kongpob telling the entire room he would make Arthit his bitch, but Kongpob instead says he'll make Arthit his wife, and . . . the vibe is not as kinky as I need it to be to support all that is being thrown at me from these two.

Which is why I'm heavily shipping Kongpob with M! Kongpob got in trouble for having two books, one which was M's, and had to say he liked men. Now, they are drunk at this table with homophobe Arthit and the hazers are staring them down while Kongpob is just holding M's face.

But let me actually rewatch this show instead of reflecting on how GMMTV messed this enemies AND lovers premise up twice (looking at you, Dangerous Romance) because right now, this show is trying to make me believe the girls would not wave hello to a babyface Off.

Once again, back to the actual rewatch, and because I don't remember a thing about this, I don't know if Wad is good or bad, but him busting out this move when Prem told him to apologize was equivalent to an older white Southern Christian woman telling someone to have a blessed day, so I felt that shade through the screen!

And I'm not victim-blaming, but I do actually think Kongpob and Arthit are trying to push each buttons to see who will break first and fuck (up) the other one because this is not a sane answer to "why did you stay?" when the possibility of the hazers physically harming someone is extremely high.

I only see my Kongpob and M ship now because when Arthit asked if anyone knew M, Kongpob immediately stood up and knew his entire life story. I have known my best friends for decades, and I still could not recite half of that information. Kongpob, what are the heterosexual reasons for you know any of this information about M?

JAN!

Once again, Arthit is 🎶The Fucking Worst🎶 because instead of just taking his L, he made Kongpob say everyone's damn name, then ripped up May's name tag, only to scold Kongpob for giving her his, and now the kids are passing out from his ridiculous physical activities! As a member of a Greek-letter organization who was hazed because that was the culture of the time period, Arthit is being soooooo messy!

Hear me out - Kongpob and M would be so good together! Arthit is the antagonist. Kongpob is the protagonist who meets a sweet quiet boy on his first day of orientation. He helps the sweet quiet boy come out of his shell and watches over him. He cares for him. THEY FALL IN LOVE!

But instead I'm getting a love interest who nominated Kongpob because he knows he is cute, yet can't admit it because ~internalized homophobia~ Ryan from The OC would have never treated Seth this way, and they were in the early 2000s. What is your excuse, Arthit?! The show wants me to hate you, and for that, I'm thankful.

But I could never hate Minnie! Arthit came up quick like he was protecting the boys from Minnie being a predator, but Minnie would NEVER! I could never fear Minnie with the bisexual scarf? And now MDL is telling me the actor has only acted in one other series and that series is Deep Night. Gold star resume, and I truly mean that.

Look at them. LOOK AT THEM! Tell me they don't look good together. Tell me they wouldn't have wrecked every other ship. This is why I need GMMTV to let these MEN (no longer boys) kiss their homies. Kongpob x M. Singto x New. I ship it.

*punching walls and ripping doors off hinges* Kongpob gets kicked out the group and the FIRST one to stand up for him is the boy he loves (it's canon to me and IDGAF what the story's gotta say about it). Quiet and sweet M finds his voice just so he can ask to have Kongpob back. THEY ARE IN LOVE!

Arthit is wildin' out here trying to gaslight Kongpob with this bullshit of "if you keep helping out your friends, then they'll never stand on their own." Sir, you wanna fuck Kongpob so bad, you look stupid.

AND KONGPOB SAYS IT!

I cannot stress enough how kinky this is and could have been if 2016 BL Land was allowed to lean into this because Kongpob has already established through his actions that he likes showing up for the punishments, and here he says the quiet part very loudly - Arthit likes punishing him.

Taking a break from the kink to point out that GMMTV was always going to get My Love Mix-Up because in 2016, May's friend said that "In Japan, if you write down the name of your crush on an eraser and use it, that person will love you"

Then we have May asking for an eraser and keeping it just so she can write Kongpob's name on it. But who gets upset about it? M! Because he loves Kongpob and I'm not accepting that he likes May just like Atom realized he liked a boy instead of girl eight years later. M loves Kongpob. That is my truth!

And here comes the kink lite again! Kongpob could leave. He doesn't have to take this verbal abuse from Arthit. He doesn't have to eat that damn spicy ass plate of food. He doesn't have to finish it either because Arthit gets up and leaves, yet HE DOES! Because he likes this treatment. This makes sense if it's sadomasochism, and that will guide me through these next couple of episodes.

Because the decision to make Arthit the one who likes pink milk is a choice, and now I want an entire TED Talk on how Arthit is probably the most well done homophobic bully with internationalized homophobia falling in love with the boy he is bullying.

Because, joke's on him, the guy he falls for is into that kind of shit.

And all of this happens so we can end with Kongpob getting pink milk for himself after he finished an entire spicy meal that he didn't need to since he enjoys being punished should make me so happy, but the show is trying to lighten Arthit's behavior by having him pay for the bill (and get the freshmen food, and having been hazed himself, and blah blah blah) instead of just letting the toxicito be toxic and Kongpob being into it.

I never thought I'd write this, but I don't want Arthit to be tamed. I want him to be so much worse.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Mind Yours 🤫

⚣🤫 A/N → Custom Spiderman drawing done by daviid.art on Instagram! Check out his work! Thank you! Always credit your fellow creators people. Anyway, first Miguel O'Hara fic. I think this was born out of my genuine disdain for him story-wise for trying to *spoiler bleep sound*, but also, from the fact that I'd let this man eat me like a Sunday dinner: no leftovers. Yeah...I said it. WARNINGS: Bit cringe but oh well. Flirty vibes (towards the end), Jealousy & Possessiveness, implied size kink.

⚣🤫 Summary → Okay, let's recap: Being one of the newly invited members into the Spider Society or Elite Force (what is the official name for this place anyway), there's a lot to take in. For one and probably the most pressing, why the hell is Miguel O'Hara always in Y/N's business? Does that man not have an entire Spiderman Task Force to run? And seriously, WHAT IS THE OFFICIAL TITLE OF THIS PLACE?!

⚣🤫 Words → 2.3K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🤫

The Spider Society.

No, the Spidermen Elite Task Force.

Nah, that’s stupid too. What about the Spidey Watch Force?

Seriously?

Alright, names could be dealt with later. But, at some point, Y/N was going to have to figure out what the official name for this place was. It was enough when he was recruited by his mentor, Peter Parker B. Why he had the B on his hand, he didn’t initially understand until he came to HQ and realized just how many different versions of him there were.

Yeah, the B was necessary.

Anyway, Peter took him on as a mentor when their recruiting department, if that was the official title for it, singled him out as a candidate with high potential. He said that Y/N reminded him a lot of another one of his unofficial mentees named Miles. The recruit noted that he seemed to hear that name a lot around the place, but not always in the most positive manner. Especially from their leader, Spiderman 2099, or Miguel O’Hara officially.

Speaking of that dude, Y/N was getting more and more concerned with how much attention the guy seemed to be paying to him. He figured in the beginning, he just wanted to keep an eye on him to see how he was doing and make sure he was following protocols. It made sense, but as time went on and he continued to just always be around, that’s when the recruit started to get a bit weirded out.

Miguel was an interesting person, to say the least. Quiet and broody, a bit obsessive, and a lot irritable. but one who tended to have a flare for the dramatic. When he met the new recruit, most saw his interaction with him as typical behavior. However, those closest to him, like Lyla, Jess, and Peter, knew better.

When Peter brought Y/N to Miguel’s office to introduce the new recruit, which the Hispanic Spidey personally requested, he was his typical sarcastic and cold self. What surprised everyone was when he offered to personally mentor Y/N, saying Peter had more important things to deal with like his (at the time) pregnant wife.

Y/N appreciated the offer but chose to stick with Peter. He didn’t mention that Miguel sort of creeped him out and made him feel intimidated, figuring that would make things any better. Of course, his original mentor had to go and make it awkward anyway by gloating at how great of a mentor he had to be.

Jess, of course, disagreed with that statement.

There was no visual reaction from the Hispanic man, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he wasn’t happy with Y/N’s decision. But, could you blame the guy?!

Peter made training fun. He found ways to make things seem more fun and comical than they would’ve seemed in the moment. He always had a lightheartedness to his teachings and would use the most interesting (questionable) examples when helping Y/N solve a problem.

Miguel didn’t mentor that many people from what the recruit saw, and just from those sights, he could see why. He took things way too seriously. Always looking at things from a negative or sarcastic point of view. The man was stubborn as hell, refusing to believe that you could teach and guide without being an obsessive hard-ass 24/7.

In his mind, he was only teaching discipline and responsibility. Y/N made a joke saying his teachings are probably the blueprint for what sends people to therapy. Jess, Lyla, and Peter all laughed while Miguel just scowled from afar.

But, it didn’t stop there.

The more time Y/N spent in the task force, the more he noticed how Miguel was always finding reasons or excuses to be in his business. It wasn’t just routine checkups and one-on-ones as most would expect.

Miguel was virtually finding any way he could stick his nose truly where it didn’t belong. Y/N found it annoying and a bit obsessive, while Peter, Jess, and even Hobie eventually all saw it for what it was. Typically, most Spider-people were not known for being the most discreet when it came to someone they were interested in.

It started with small stuff; Miguel constantly calling Y/N into his for the smallest of things. He didn’t like how he handled this mission, should’ve called for backup on that mission, make sure he doesn’t interfere with canon events, yada yada yada.

Then, it started with small comments about whatever Y/N was doing. Him being on his phone too much, spending too much time goofing around with Peter and the other Spiders, and taking too many trips home when he wanted to see his family.

Anything that had to do with Y/N, the big-bodied muscled Latin had something to say about it, even when he wasn’t present. He’d come across some Spiders who had been partnered with the mentee on the last few missions. He overheard one of them making a suggestive comment and it did not sit well with him for obvious reasons.

The next day, Y/N was confused as to why he was suddenly being pulled from all missions with his previous comrades. Though he never did find out exactly why, he had a strong suspicion of who more or less was responsible for it. And not just because the order came directly from them, but that added to it

It only got more interesting when Y/N got his new mission assignments from Peter, and he saw that he was “coincidentally” paired with Miguel on all of them. The mentee looked at his mentor with confusion and annoyance and only got a shrug in response and an empathetic apology.

Jess and the computer hologram also gave him sympathetic responses but gave their friend and leader suspicious and not-impressed ones when they met with him later that day. Of course, Miguel played innocent and oblivious, acting as if he was only doing this to help improve Y/N’s abilities and skills out in the field since he observed some specific areas where he was lacking.

“Oh, you’re observing all right…” Peter mumbled under his breath to which Jess and Lyla both giggled.

Miguel was not tickled.

The missions, as expected, were a lot. On multiple occasions, Y/N felt like he was ready to either strangle Miguel or himself. Whichever came first was completely out of his hands.

Miguel was on him for every single thing he did, but the gag was that he wasn’t even doing much since the control freak would always push Y/N behind him, taking on whatever enemy or threat himself. He’d usually just end up doing things like crowd control, getting civilians and innocents out of danger, and jumping in whenever his leader got overwhelmed.

Yet, that wasn’t even the worst part.

During these “intimate” times together (if you could even call it that), Miguel would take it upon himself to start asking innocent little questions. Of course, only if you define ‘innocent’ as very invasive in Y/N’s personal business. In that case, Miguel was an angel sent from heaven.

There were many kinds of questions, but they mostly were focused on Y/N’s personal life, specifically his relationships whether platonic or non-platonic. If, by this point, it hasn’t occurred that Miguel doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body, especially when it comes to keeping his “possessive” nature under control, then let it be known now.

Miguel’s jealousy was obvious as shit.

Yet, the only one who was oblivious to it was Y/N, who was getting more and more irritated and frustrated with every question in his life about why he was talking to this one person, and why didn’t he accept Miguel as a mentor. Physically incapable of letting shit go.

That topic made frequent appearances in their conversations where Miguel would go into one of his sarcastic and moody rants about Peter not being a fit mentor and how he would do so much better. The man was petty and could hold a grudge, and this seemed to be one he would not let go of for a long time.

At some point, Y/N had enough and went radio silent. Not completely, though. He told Peter that he was taking some time off and gonna stay in his dimension for a bit, to give himself a break from Miguel.

When he returned home, he left his watch buried in his desk and turned whatever communications or alerts he could off. As you can imagine, this did not sit well with Miguel, who probably was the only one who was consistently trying to contact Y/N, demanding to know why he wasn’t reporting in for their meetings or missions.

He would’ve gone to Peter and demanded he tell him what was going on, but he didn’t trust that soon-to-be father would give him the answer he wanted. So, he took matters into his own hands and made his way to Earth–6998.

Imagine Y/N’s surprise when he came home to a tall, buff-ass, brooding vampire Spiderman waiting in his bedroom with his watch in hand.

“Oh my god! Are you serious? You followed me home, broke into my house, and went through my drawer? And you’re sitting on my bed with outside clothes on?!” Y/N snapped.

That last one was just plain rude.

Miguel moved himself off the bed, his mask still on hiding his mildly guilty and awkward face.

“Why haven’t you reported to HQ? You missed three assignments, and I had to fix and fight a bunch of anomalies on my own.” Miguel demanded in his usual gruff manner.

“Because I’m taking a vacation, that’s why. And said vacation starts with me now washing my sheets and you leaving.” Y/N huffed before bumping past the taller man. He roughly pulled his sheets and pillowcases off his bed, gathering them in his arms before stomping towards the door, heading for his in-unit washer and dryer.

Miguel was hot on his trail, though, not planning on following the smaller Spiderman’s order in the slightest.

He was the boss last time he checked.

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain why you’ve been ignoring me.”

Y/N rolled his eyes while grabbing the detergent and fabric softener off the shelves from above, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. You may be in charge when it comes to your little Spider Society or Task Force or whatever you freaking call it, but when it comes to my life and my personal business, I answer to me, myself, and I only.”

After setting the washer and turning it on, he closed the lid before turning around, being met with a towering and bulky frame standing over him, not giving him much room to move past considering the tight space.

“I’d appreciate it if you would move out my way,” Y/N irritably asked, though his tone indicated that it was definitely not an ‘ask’ and more like a ‘get the fuck out my way.’

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting like a brat and ignoring me.” Miguel retorted.

“Ignoring you? IGNORING you?! How could I possibly ignore you when you constantly force your way into my life every single day? I can’t do anything or go anywhere without you two steps behind me or constantly asking me something that is, quite frankly, none of your concern! So, again, I am going to ask as politely as I can that you remove yourself from my home and learn how to mind yours. And, just so there’s no confusion, I 100% mean sticking your nose out of my business!”

Y/N went to bump past the stronger Spidey before he felt a large and tight grip on his upper arm, his whole body being pulled back before being shoved against the adjacent wall to the washing machine. Miguel crowded him against the surface, his body dwarfing him in size and leaving any possible room for him to move or try to escape.

Miguel leaned down into the young Spider’s face, his mask dematerializing over his face, showing the smug and flirty expression that was hiding under.

“You are my business, and I’ll continue doing as I please until you get it through your oblivious, tiny brain. Now, I’ll finish your sheets while you go get suited up, put your watch back on, and bring your ass back to HQ. We have a mission tonight, and then, we’re going to have a nice, long talk after.”

“And, just exactly how are you planning to make me do that?” Y/N pushed back, even if a small part of him wanted to give in, considering how so not hot he was finding this.

He had a thing for aggressive and dominant guys; sue him.

“Well, for starters, I can easily just say forget the sheets, toss you over my shoulder, and drag you back to HQ, whether you like it or not. But, I’d figured it’d be more considerate if I allowed you to return on your own choice.”

There was a silent pause between the two males, Miguel’s red eyes staring deep into Y/N’s who held a defiant glint in his own irises. A silent challenge was being waged between the two, seeing who would cave first, and considering the position he was already in, it was safe to say the smaller Spidey wouldn’t be winning this one, no matter how many webs or one-liners he shot out.

“Didn’t think the word considerate was in your vocabulary. Fine. But, I’m just doing the mission, and then I’m leaving.” Y/N caved, still somewhat in a defiant mood. Really, he was pushing the waters to see how far he could go.

Miguel raised an amused eyebrow before leaning up, giving the smaller Spider room to move. Just as Y/N moved out of his grasp, he felt a hot sting on his rear end. His hands went to cover his throbbing tushie while turning to see a cocky look on his face, the guilty gloved hand with the claws extended caught in the act.

“Remember who’s in charge here. Mind yours, Y/N, and I’ll mind mine.”

☀️ | Miguel O'Hara/Spiderman-2099 | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ OF LOVE AND FASHiON ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! last fic for the day booooo 😥 i dont know if i will be able to post any tmrrw, but i hope i can. anyways enjoy my lovelies

p.s. there's a little written part in this but it's abt 500-600 words

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[y/n]'s heart's racing. every palpitation hammers against her chest with much force, so much so that her full-upon-entry water has decreased to less than half left in just 30 minutes. the heat still fused with the air, but as the sun begins to sleep, it loses its energy, leaving a cool undercurrent that presses into the skin of all the attendees. she's so glad about the cooler weather, finding it completely unfathomable how she would've coped if the heat joined tham at night as well.

but the man seated beside her crashes all of her composure, and her body begins to feel hot and strangled.

she hasn't seen such a visually blessed male specimen in all the years of her living, and the fact that his body was so close to hers because of the crammed seating made matters worse. she can't think, breathe or concentrate on the influx of dressed models that come and go non-stop.

"you look disgusted."

the voice comes from right beside her, and her head whips around, startled. the man that has enraptured her entire conscience smiles goofily at her, and her heart wavers.

"what? me?"

"yes," he chuckles softly, "you."

his eyes turn back to the show before them, yet he continues speaking before [y/n] can justify herself, "i don't blame you, though. some of the outfits are... questionable."

his facial expressions are priceless, and [y/n] falls into a bout of laughter, "you're sick!"

he looks on seriously, eyes flashing with extreme judgement, "i'm not lying! how does anyone find pairing a skirt and baggy trousers aesthetic?"

the combination, that [y/n] had, most likely, missed from being consumed by her thoughts, makes her grimace, "yeah, that wasn't a good look at all."

he turns back to face her and, god, he stares so intently that she has to look away.

"speaking of outfits, what brand you wearing? 'cause i know it's not lv for sure, i'm not seeing any," he thinks of the right words, "over exposure of the logo."

"that's one way to put it," [y/n] snickers, looking down at her outfit, "i made it all myself... apart from the shoes of course."

the boy is taken aback, mouth agape and eyes wide, "no way!"

she begins to feel flustered by his reaction and just smiles.

"that's so cool, honestly. i would take more pride in that than wearing a slutted out luxury brand."

"slutted out?" [y/n] can't believe her ears; he's going to kill her, she's sure.

"how the hell did you come up that?!"

the boy purses his lips, looking smug, "i'm just that amazing."

"you're delusional."

he pretends to think for a moment, "delusional enough to think i'd get your number?"

[y/n]'s eyebrows shot up, "you want... my number?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod, "i don't think i'll be leaving without it."

jobe, who had been painfully listening in on their conversation, decides to make himself apparent, "don't do it, you'll regret it."

she turns around, coming face to face with a younger boy who looks almost identical to the one she had been speaking with for the past 15 minutes.

"you two brothers?"

the older one responds, "yeah, he's a cockblock though, don't listen to him."

"cockblock? jude, i'm trying to save her life!"

ah, so that's his name.

"clear off, jobe," he rolls his eyes, turning back to the girl sitting beside him, "sorry about that- so, your number?"

"don't do it!"

and much to his dismay, she does.

-

y/n_l/n

liked by judebellingham and 23,899 others

y/n_l/n paris photo dump !! met some cool ass people there lowkey

view comments...

judebellingham was lovely meeting you, such a vibe 😆

y/n_l/n you too!! <3

yfn__ best time of my life honestly

y/n_l/n paris at night is a sight to see

user1 you look GORGEOUS

user2 i really missed pfw just a day after i left france </3

user3 JUDE????

user4 I'M ACTUALLY SO SHOCKED

user5 😮

user6 WE FOUND HERRRRR

user7 and jude beat me to it already 😐

-

-

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judebellingham

liked by y/n_l/n and 899,231 others

judebellingham ❤🇫🇷

view comments...

y/n_l/n love the after party candid, send it to me plz xx + tell jobe i'm sorry but not sorry

judebellingham you look so pretty in it ofc + he'll see it anyways xx y/n_l/n @/judebellingham stop plz 😭🛑 jobebellingham @/y/n_l/n buy me croissaints and maybe i'll forgive you

jadonsancho freshh 🔥

user1 who's that girl in the last pic????

user2 someone who he met at the lv show, got her number and everthingggg 😭

user3 AND SHE KNOWS JOBE TOO? that's my chance stripped unrightfully away from me </3

user4 icel, she's gorgeous AAAAA

user5 this is my 13th reason

[the1975attheirverybest]

TEN YEARS

A/N: Since it's looking like we won't be getting a livestream of the Leeds show tonight, and since I have a crazy few days coming up starting tomorrow, I wanted to post a little something to keep y'all happy while I get my schedule together and to also celebrate ST and last night! short, sweet, no plot, just vibes.

Warnings: none, except maybe typos (i have no clue where my glasses are)

----

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears despite the chattering crowds all around her. "Excuse me- could I just" mumbling apologies as she squeezed past the masses of giddy, sweaty, emotional, and excited fans. She could blame the ones who were struggling to keep from crying, or the ones who were immediately recounting the events they'd just witnessed onstage for fear of their memories eroding as the night came to a close, or maybe to make sure that what they'd experienced was actually real, that other people saw it too. In fact, she felt the same way and would've wanted to stick around and take it all in, if it weren't for her insatiable desire to lay her hands on Matty as soon as humanly possible.

She felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach, her anticipation and impatience spurred on by the glimpses and fragments of conversation that reached her ears from people around her.

"He looked so good in that leather jacket-" someone behind her had observed.

"I'm glad he took it off though. Cuz, arms? hello!"

somewhere from the center of the crowd, an overstimulated, antsy woman yelled out,

"but can we talk about Ross's hair?! I love him."

"I mean, I knew they weren't going to play antichrist, cuz Matty is evil, but at least give us fallingforyou?"

"bro, no matter what he does, you're never happy. he can't win at this point."

"ten years! it's been ten years! 2014 me, scrolling black and white tumblr would lose her shit if he could see this."

the smile that had plastered across her face grew wider with every comment she overheard. Though the walk to the backstage area wasn't long earlier in the day, when she'd wandered around, watching the backline tech and the crew set things up, right now, it felt miles away. Finally, too impatient to do things responsibly, she jumped the safety barrier and landed on the other side. giggling to herself as she sprinted to find the boys.

Her airy giggles broke into a fit of laughter when she spotted the four of them, dress in all black, huddled into a corner, whispering and laughing like children. Matty turned around at the clomping of her footsteps, a grin on his face.

"Babe-" was all he'd managed to say before she'd jumped into his arms with the full force of her body, laughing uncontrollably into his ear as she panted, breathless.

Matty's arms wrapped around her waist, picking her up, off the floor, and spinning around in circles, giggling until they were both dizzy.

"You- you did it!" was the first thing she could think to say, still out of breath and heaving, she pressed her lips to his, clumsily crashing into him. Her feet unsteady, and her head still dizzy, she chuckled when their teeth collided.

Remnants of Matty's aftershave still clung to his shirt. She could taste the cigarettes he'd smoked onstage and the drink he'd sipped on. She buried her face into him for a moment, leaning her body against his as she came down from the adrenalin high, then, with her feet firmly on the ground, she turned to face the boys.

"Congratulations! how're we feeling?"

chatter broke out again as they interrupted each other, answering her questions, describing the view from the stage, George boasting that his drum riser was the best spot up there, and Matty, restless as ever, re-enacting his moves.

"Ross, I, um, have some news." she looked up into his eyes, a gentle hand pressed on top of his. "Two people were injured, five lost consciousness. Your hair killed the entire front row." Ross's initial concern gave way to an innocent laugh, his head tilted upwards, his pearlescent smile drawing a dimple on his cheek.

"He knows, he knows." Adam patted Ross's back prompting Matty to reach over and pull the hair tie out of ross's hair. "glorious lions mane. He does it for the ladies."

***

She couldn't help but smile against the soft fabric of Matty's hoodie, clinging to him harder and letting her body sway along with his as he danced to the Killer's song from the side of the stage.

"Sorry, I'll calm down." Matty whispered down to her.

"No, no! Please don't. I love it when you like the music."

Hw wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body against his and moving them both to the rhythm of the music.

"Matty? You happy?" she looked up at his eyes and saw his answer before he even spoke.

"So happy."

"Good. I mean, you looked like you were having fun up there."

"'course I was. I mean, we used to come here as kids-"

George laid a hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly, "oh, here it comes." playfully rolling his eyes.

"same old story." Ross mumbled.

"oh about how he came to Reading instead of picking up exam results?" Adam giggled.

Matty laughed, telling them to fuck off, before looking back down at her. "Yeah, I'm happy."

"And you get to do it all again tomorrow." she planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I know. How lucky am I?"

[gfbrokenlocksau]

a question has been posed to me!

WHY did I choose those colors for them, with my shorthand coloring?

Well. You're in luck. I'm about to ramble autistically hehehe

Ford - Red

Bright. Loud. Strong. I've never seen Ford as a socially adaptable person, and he's super headstrong, talking over others, and determined.

(hey, can you blame me for also liking Undertale? Please note— Undertale had no bearing on any of these colors, I just think it's cool lol)

Ford can get angry, and it can be violent— he threatens Stanley with a crossbow, shoves him into a burning panel, and punches him when he sees him again (after 30 years).

Red grabs your attention.

Stan - Blue

A big part of Stan in this AU is that he still has that fascination with sailing. Sure, the point of the dream may have been to sail with Ford, but he still chose the ocean over any other dream.

And, y'know. Blue. Ocean. Do the math.

Also he's literally dead. Deoxygenated blood ringing any bells? Plus a loooot of media shows ghosts with bluish hues and such.

You don't tend to notice blue, unless it's a very out of place color in the area.

Dipper - Green

Pine tree! Pine trees are green.

Hesitated about this one at first, because the first thing that comes to mind when I think "green" is "nature" and I mean.... Look at him.

But I think the "pine tree" connection actually makes sense, with how when it really gets down to the wire, he's pretty sturdy and reliable. Or at the very least he sure tries to be!

Also, I think this kid has some weird, crazy amount of luck. Because so many things that summer were attached to chance, and somehow this kid barely ever got hurt from the wild stunts he pulled.

I mean, come on. He:

Found the journal

Tripped into that one memory, which gave him the key to fight bill (Dreamscaperers)

Survived the Headhunters episode (there was no planning there. Be honest)

Didn't get squashed by the Gobblewonker (with his skinny noodle legs?!)

Managed to Not Fucking Die, Period

Mabel - Pink

Ok. Look at her. She's pink.

Wow! Wow!! Glitter and bubblegum! Blushing and crushes and sugar! She probably smells like cotton candy, that's just the vibes she gives off.

Also unicorn blood.

She's bright, she's happy, she's excited, she loves her family so much. She loves her brother so much her perfect world still has him there. She loves her brother so much she leaves her perfect world for him.

Fiddleford - Orange

He's close to Ford, and sort of stood "in-between" him and Bill for a time, preventing Bill from isolating him entirely.

To me, orange is a very comforting color when it's soft. It's warm, like a fireplace, or sunset, or tasty (mm oranges! I could go for some citrus right now...)

But when you have a strong orange, it works as a notifier of danger and warning. Fiddleford spirals hard.

Bill - Yellow (bordering gold)

Look at that motherfucker. Also:

Connotations of wealth (gold) and also danger (warning signs, safety vests, etc..)

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: cisfem Character: Cracker Vibe: NSFW Consensual AU: Government Mandated Marriage AU Prompt: Bath/Shower/Hot Spring Gift Giver: @seafoamnautilus

Summary: You've been matched with one of the more prominent members of the Big Mom's Big Sweets international candy corporation, and... you're not really sure how. No sense in worrying about it however, time to enjoy the vacation Mama sent you on!

Content Notes: open air bath, oral sex, fluffy

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

You sat nervously in the hot springs, waiting for your soon-to-be husband to come join you.

The vacation had been decided by his mother. A way for the two of you to get to know one another without anyone else getting in the way. It was, perhaps, a bit much, you thought, but the sentiment was appreciated.

Several years ago the new world government had instituted a mandatory marriage system, to combat declining birthrates and failing population counts. People were getting married less and having fewer children, and so here you were - effectively nobody important, matched to one of the sons of one of the wealthiest CEOs in the entire world.

Big Mom’s Big Sweets were a world-wide business, and there were rumors that she’d had most of her children in order to ensure that they were able to keep the business in the family regardless of how successful it became.

Cracker might have been the 15th child born of 80 or so, but he was fairly high up in the company, and almost as well-known as his sister Smoothie and the current assumed heir apparent, Katakuri. He was more comfortable in front of a camera than his siblings and that’s how you’d known a bit about him even before the MatchBook had arrived at your home.

It still seemed like some sort of error. You weren’t anyone in particular. No notable heritage, and your family was only wealthy in the middling sense. You had a decent education and a stable life, but almost all of Linlin’s children were married to other heavy hitters.

There were rumors that she was controlling the match making process to some extent to force it to work out that way.

You sigh. Maybe you were here right now as a means of dissuading those rumors.

It’d been three weeks and she hadn’t demanded a Rematch, and neither had Cracker. He seemed genuinely happy with the arrangement, and you weren’t uncomfortable around him. His family and his wealth were intimidating, but he was, as you had quickly learned, surprisingly sweet.

He’d gone out of his way to help you feel comfortable, and even now he had let you get ready for the springs on your own, the moment you’d hesitated about it.

You heard the paper door slide open, and Cracker stood there with his hair down, a towel wrapped around his waist. You’d seen him with his hair down before now, but not while also practically naked. He was well-built, lithe, but solid, and the long locks cascaded down over his shoulders so neatly.

“How is it?” He questions, coming over to join you.

“Very warm, but not uncomfortably hot.” You reply, an easy smile on your face. You hope you can blame the hot springs if your face starts to turn red.

He’s… unfairly hot like this.

“Good,” he steps into the spring, coming close enough to talk comfortably with you, but staying far enough away to avoid making you uncomfortable. “Sorry about Mama,” he says with a sigh, draping his arms over the rocks and shifting as the water relaxes him. “She can be wildly stubborn about stuff like this, it’s best to just make the most of it.”

“Oh, no, it’s… it’s fine.” You assure him. Your smile’s a little nervous as he looks over at you, but you shake your head. “I haven’t been on vacation in years, I was overdue, and this is… it is nice.”

Cracker smiles, the expression putting a twinkle in his eyes. “All the better then.” He leans back, looking up at the stars, and letting himself melt in the hot water.

There’s idle chatter between the two of you. He complains about his mother a little, and promises he won’t let her hold you to any weird standards or stresses. He asks about what kind of wedding you want, so that he can push back on details with her in your place, and eventually a staffer arrives and provides you both with something to drink and snacks.

“Chilled sake and sushi.” Cracker’s brows furrow. “Booze and hot springs don’t mix. They should’ve brought us iced tea - ah.” He waves a card between his fingers and you move closer to him to take it. It’s a card from Mama, explaining that the extras are part of the gift.

“We can have it when we get out then.” You say putting the card back on the tray. Your gaze shifts from the tray to Cracker.

Wet. Naked. Close.

The steam’s made his skin shiny, and his hair’s sticking to his frame, and the sweet smell of the sake.

You reach out without really thinking, and brush his hair aside, finger drawing a line along his collarbone. His skin shifts as he swallows and you look up at him. Your heart beats faster in your chest, but you shift and move a little closer, letting your other fingers press against his chest until the palm of your hand is flat against his skin.

“Sorry,” you say softly, even though you don’t back away.

A smile tugs at his lips. “S’alright.”

“You’re… very handsome… like this.” You admit, gaze shifting down to his lips. Your tongue slips over your own and you can hear the water ruffle as he tenses.

“I… the scar…” He mutters.

You wouldn’t have guessed that it bothered him, considering how self-assured and in control he always seemed to be. Especially in front of the camera.

“Is it wrong, to say that it makes you more handsome?” You question, your gaze shifting from his lips back up to his eyes.

“… Not at all.” He lets his arms come down into the water, and you could feel his fingers press against the towel as he rested his hands on your waist.

“I want to do more than kiss you.” You admit, feeling heat flush your body for the first time despite all the time you’d been sitting in the springs.

“I think that’s what the booze was for.” Cracker grins, still guiding you closer.

“Then, we’d be doing what your mother wanted.” You point out.

“That we would,” he sighs, the smile growing wider, hands firm against your waist.

“… Just this once then?” You question, lips moving closer to his.

“Just this once.” He agrees, tilting his head as you lean down and kiss him.

You let your body rest against his as he explores your mouth slowly. Lips pressing heavy against you, tongue slipping over them, just barely putting on pressure, wanting access to something more, but not pushing you for it.

When your lips part sweetly for him he tugs on the towel wrapped around you, and you pull the cloth ties holding it closed, leaving him to pull it free and throw it over the tray of food and booze neither of you care about right now.

Hands against your back steady you as he leans into the kisses, as he leans into you. Hungry lips move away from yours tracing along your jaw, trailing down the curve of your face to the turn of your neck. He moves you both deeper into the springs, away from the doors and any more possible interruptions. Lifting you up on the far edge of the rocky pool, you gasp at the cool air against your wet skin.

“Cold!” You shiver as he spreads your legs, still in the deep warm water himself.

“You won’t be.” He promises, one hand bracing you and leaning you back as he licks against the insides of your thighs, shifting your shivering gasps into a trembling quiver of a different kind.

He wastes little time, plunging his mouth into your pussy, and devouring you. Wet and hungry his tongue flicks against your clit, before lapping at your labia as his thumb rolls against your clit sending jolts and warmth through you. You’re cold still, but not nearly as bothered by it as your body begins to warm from the pleasure he’s giving you.

Your fingers weave into his wet hair and he hums against your body. The deep vibration makes your body curl and you sigh pleasure into the air.

His hands move over your body, teasing your breasts, warming your back. You aren’t sure which he’s more desperate for, the sweet slick of your cunt, or the soft feel of your skin. But the firm touch becomes drier and warmer as he continues, and after a few long, delicious minutes, you no longer feel cold.

All your shivering is from the pleasure building between your thighs. Every sweet sound that drips from your lips spurs him on. You’re sure his jaw has to be getting tired, but just as you’re ready to ask he pushes his tongue deep inside your pussy.

Putting your hands over your mouth, you throw your head back and nearly scream as his tongue fucks into you. He has enough of a grip on you that you can’t squirm away as the pleasure builds, his breath hot against your slick.

He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly against his face as he slides you off the edge and back into the water. A harried squeak of surprise turns into a deep, satisfied, moan as your eyes roll back in pleasure. The warmth of the water making the orgasm stain your muscles and skin instead of making your body tense and shiver as he carries you through it from beneath the water.

Hazy and panting for air, a little loopy from the deep orgasm relaxing you, you smile at Cracker as he comes back up for hair. There’s a big, satisfied grin on his face as he leans in and kisses you.

“All the best sweets are even better wet.”

[323cutie]

wait how that you’ve talked about seonghwa im kinda curious to know what vibes you feel the other members have

would san have the vibe of a picnic on a summer day? would yunho have the vibe of a late night arcade?

Oh this is such a good question hmmm... if im being honest i haven't Really thought about the other members in that same way ... so Im going with my gut here (⌒_⌒;)

hongjoong is kind of similar to hwa but he's more specifically fall nights to me... Almost in an intimidating way? if that makes sense? like hmmm autumn leaves and fog... candles... confidence that's kinda scary but really alluring

yunho. Hmm. this ones kinda hard i feel like I won't really be satisfied with anything i say. butttt (and he has no one to blame but himself for this) he's verryyyy japanese countryside. Riding bikes and vending machines. sitting on a curb to enjoy a snack. Green... windchimes also

yeosangie OHH i almost always think of him and then i think of snow. just very gentle like him I think... a comfy room and a heated blanket. When christmas lights start going up at malls and along streets. staying up super late.

sannie is so summer coded but like specifically vacation Like. going on a trip with friends. loose fitting shirts and sand the smell of the sea. Being a little confused in a new place but not really worried. buying souvenirs and waking up early and missing home but not wanting to leave yet

mingi... now im not really sure about this one. black hoodies and baggy jeans and Lotssss of jewelry. headphones in all the time. Walking everywhere and having a hideout with friends. coffee and late nights out being young and living life in the most basic and free way... romanticizing a lot

wooyoungie is kinda similar to mingi to me but a little more carefree. ice cream in winter and worn out sneakers and naps? He's very city lights and teasing your friends and holding hands... watching sunsets and comfort.

jongho hmm. he's so familiar. Like someone you've known your entire life, a face you can pick out of a crowd. relief and excitement. gentle guidance and inside jokes. Walking home together, having a routine. september. looping your arm through his and leaning your head on his shoulder.

[adamsrcnan]

okay i'll bite, here's my jeremy knox speculations !!!

it's nothing super outrageous in my opinion, as fun and interesting as that would be, but alas lets dig in.

with regards to the police, his step grandfather is a congressman which means his step father probably has political ties too. this could mean they have ties to the police force perhaps involved in funding or something?? hence why jeremy would be recognised by them bc he gets forced to go to these occasions to paint a perfect family picture and maybe they're full of cops?? and maybe that's just not something he wants to be associated with lmao. cannot blame him now can we?

rhemann tells jean he can ask jeremy to leave the vicinity if he wants to press charges and call the cops i don't think this is because jeremy could get in trouble or anything bc i don't think rhemann would risk that. i think it's just because him being there might have sway or might lead to more gossip among the force that jean would wanna avoid. and if rhemann knows about whatever this weird avoiding police thing is i'm not sure it would be something so horrible??

in terms of his past. personally i don't agree jeremy was aggressive as a teen. i read him talking about his high school team as more of a "they played that way. i didn't vibe with it. i wanted to make sure my college team wasn't the same" i mean it's basically what he says he doesn't imply anything else but again the guy is closed off as HECK so god knows. but i don't think jeremy has an aggressive tendency. i feel like, given how the foxes have their entire lives pried into, if jeremy had such a reputation in the past (being in a class 1 team and captain of it no less) it would be known. and jean would know bc of kevin's obsession. like that would be a huge scandal.

i don't think he's done anything crazy like murder or manslaughter or has any assault charge. although that screenshot i posted a couple days ago is very Very sus, i think it might stem from how his family makes him feel about himself. because again i don't think he'd be able to keep any of that hidden.

UNLESS it's been all swept under the rug thanks to the political ties from the step family, and maybe that's why they dislike him so much. but again i think it's all a bit far fetched bc i don't think jeremy would be able to be so well adjusted after something like that, even after attending therapy.

which brings me to my next point, which is where he mentioned his mother finding the therapist for him and his family as he says "us" when talking about it which means they all see this therapist and jean mentions jeremy does not seem bothered to be exposed for having to go to therapy. i think if he was in therapy bc he did something really terrible he wouldn't want it known. especially if it's meant to be swept under the rug. i think this is in relation to the mysterious brother and the possibility of losing them to suicide. as he becomes very serious when jean says he promised he wouldn't kill himself saying it's nothing to joke about. also his concern for jean's wellbeing after ravens start dropping like flies maybe bc he knows how the grief feels.

thought that could also be a far fetched speculation because jeremy says the fall banquet broke their family in half. it's obvious his step family and his older brother and younger sister are not on his side, his mother sounds questionable too. so maybe that just leaves his other brother and his father and again maybe it's just a case of them being supportive of jeremy's sexuality.

there's also a brief mention of jeremy's dad being stationed in europe - some kind of military man?? since his mother re-married there's definitely something there too. maybe jeremy still keeps in touch with his father and it's not appreciated by the rest of the family? idk this one's a bit of a stretch but i feel like it might crop up again. what with jeremy not wanting to be addressed as "knox" as well - is that his father's name or his step father's name??? why does he not like it??

moving on to the scandal at the fall banquet i think this has to do with jeremy getting outed for being gay. lucas before cutting himself off at the beach says "now that you're.." implying they didn't know before so maybe jeremy was keeping it under wraps but got involved with someone from another team (???) at the banquet and got caught. his step grandfather and step father, and brother are probably very conservative and of course did not agree with jeremy's "lifestyle" and i think this had consequences on the whole family as it probably got out and "tarnished" their image. jeremy was probably asked to give up exy so as not to get involved with all "that" and he obviously refused. punishment for that probably meant his sister not caring for his games anymore as he wouldn't compromise for her, him getting put on a strict allowance and his mother's bookkeeper having to keep up with his expenses bc he's only given a certain amount of money. maybe a way for them to take back control over his life?? it also could explain why he has to stay at home during the school year so they can keep an eye on him perhaps??? also him getting dismissed from the dinner table bc of his hair as well idk sounds like his family are probs homophobic. also kind of a stretch but mayyyybeee the reason jeremy feels so bad is because he got the person he was involved with into trouble so he feels like a terrible person. but again there's really no alluding to that or implication i'm basically just taking a wild guess. but i feel like it would make some sort of sense

TLDR; i think jeremy's big "scandal" was that he's gay and his step family are just not accepting so they make his life difficult on purpose and he struggles to stand up to them about it

[thetokentrans]

so I have thoughts about this week's episode of 911. My partner and I ranted at one another when we watched it yesterday, and I need to put my thoughts out into the world. Spoilers under the cut. Also tagged though, just to be safe.

Alright so, I wanna say first that while I've mostly enjoyed this season, some of the arcs and basically all of the pacing has me really frustrated? And not frustrated because of cliffhangers and not frustrated because the writing wants me to be. Frustrated because the pacing has been far too quick - though, I expect the super truncated season is to be blamed for that - but also some of the writing and character arcs just..... Do not fit the vibe of the show up until this season? Plus, the lack of calls/focus on characters personal lives has also got me sad. Like, I love the characters and love seeing the peeks into their loves, but I really hope the show doesn't maintain the equation of one big emergency, a few calls sprinkled through out the season, and then mostly focused on the characters lives because *I* preferred the balance it was before. Or would have been happy with a tiny bit more focus on their personal lives, but not to the extent it is now, know?

Eddie and Kim are a great example. Especially what it culminated to in 7x09. It just makes no God damned sense and does not fit Eddie's characterization in my opinion? It came out of left field. It's a really, really weird god damned story line. I *am* glad that Buck approached Eddie about it AS SOON as he learned about the situation though. Like if it wasn't anything, Eddie... You wouldn't have hid her from Buck OR Marisol. If it wasn't anything, you wouldn't have lied and said you didn't have a gf. And it frustrates me that before this episode, he had been looking back on his relationship with Shannon with such rose colored glasses and forgetting the very large, sort of insurmountable issues that they had. Though that isn't out of character for him, I just hated it. Lol

And the stuff with the councilwoman in this episode also made me insanely angry. And went way too quick. Politicians can grease a lot of wheels but that entire situation - Maria's adoption getting stopped, AND her getting ripped out of their house because their foster license got revoked - really felt like it happened way too quick and should have raised some red flags/encountered some road blocks in the system???

Also I hate that NO ONE outside of Athena seemed to question Bobby's definitely very weird behavior. Like I feel like super anxious to every change in someone's demeanor Buck, and INSANELY perceptive Hen would have picked up that something was wrong????

Also idk man, Athena going to Amir, AND BRINGING HIM INTO HER HOUSE THAT HAS ALL OF THIS EVIDENCE OF HOW GOOD BOBBY HAS IT NOW - even if Bobby doesn't think he deserves it, even if Bobby has been stewing in his self loathing basically since childhood and his dad dying - to help with Bobby's spiralings/self destruction cycle felt a little out of characterly naive of her?

Like.. I don't think he's the one who set the house on fire at the end of the episode - I did at first, but my partner pointed out that it'd be the too obvious choice - but I just don't think either Bobby OR Amir are ready for that. And I feel like history shows, and her characterization shows, that she'd be more perceptive and realize that.

That being said, some things I *liked* about the episode:

Chim getting to clapback at racist homophobic Gerrard (spelling?) at the award ceremony

Bobby telling Buck that he knows Tommy is good for him because Buck hasn't spiraled about their relationship/ranted about it to him.

Buck telling Eddie that he's worried about him. That interaction, Buck calling Eddie out, it felt good and like the 911 I'm used to.

Athena calling Bobby out on his self destruction cycle. I do wish she would have pointed out how often she has leaned on him (as much as a chronically independent woman like her, can anyway) especially when it came to finally solving her fiancé's murder for instance.

Idk man, the show just doesn't feel the same as it has in the past and I'm really hoping it's because of the change in network and is just an adjustment period.

[animalsalvationassociation]

this is for kwazii how did you handle lied your entire life going to you blamed yourself believing in believing or do you blame the people who let you know believe that you struggle with questioning reality are you getting help do you go to therapy? ( The creator of Au answer however you want I just really think be interesting to ask him about it)

[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]

“ Late Nights ”

Not my best work but honestly I’m just trying to distract myself from tomorrow. #retailworker + #blackfriday (if you know, you know)

I’m sorry Anon, & idk maybe it’s just me, but I had a really hard time reading this. I really only understood the first and last bits but everything else was kind of hard for me.

(If you’d like you’re welcome to send me another anon-ask explaining this one. And I’d be happy for the clarification to just be between the pair of us, I don’t have to post it if you don’t want me to.)

In response to the actual question . . .

I couldn’t really find an answer for you. I’ve always had the opinion that Kwazii wasn’t ever lied to, he just didn’t have all the puzzle pieces. Even with CJ I could never think up (canonically or non) any lies Kwazii was ever told. I do see CJ keeping certain information from him (on purpose or not) because he didn’t have time or it was a sore subject for him so Kwaz never pressed. But maybe I’m just reading their interactions wrong *shrug*.

Therapy? Definitely but I may touch on that in a later post.

However, by asking these questions I had a feeling we were in need of some sad vibes, so I hope you enjoy. It’s not much but it’s the best I could do at the moment. If you can’t tell, the picture is of Kwaz and Em cuddling while he’s having an episode, and I feel like it’s really matching my energy tonight.

~

And to all of my other followers I do apologize to you as well. I haven’t been able to do anything creative this week. I’ve been working nonstop picking up shifts for my sick/recovering coworkers and basically working the floor by myself during one of the busiest weeks of the year. I’m extremely spent/stressed and I still have two more shifts to work before Sunday.

So with all that said, since I’ll be very busy working Black Friday, unfortunately I won’t be able to get to those remaining Octonauts headcanons I promised. Which feels super crappy but right now there’s nothing I can do.

I hope you’ll forgive me, and maybe I can win your favor next week with some Emma/Cap Barnacle content. But for now I hope your day goes well, have a Happy Thanksgiving / National Native American Heritage Day and please . . . take care of yourselves. 💙🍪

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[slocumjoe]

some things I love about the companions 💞

Ada; is best girl. She's a cool ass robot who gives me glue and doesn't judge me. No, this is not my "transformers prime permanently rewired my brain" bias for robots. At risk of sounding like a 12 year old boy, Assaultatrons are just badass designs. And she's blue!

Cait; is a lot funnier than anyone gives her credit for. Also, weirdly educated? For example, she wonders if Raiders like tunnels as a "Freudian" thing. Few people she'd have met would known about Freud, so she'd have to have gone and read about it herself. Also also, is on Danse's level of romantic sweet talk. Girl makes me swoon.

Codsworth; somehow hates the wasteland more than X6. His wording and tone is very optimistic but you can tell that, underneath his chipper facade, Codsworth is so fucking grossed out by everything he sees. Also, the only two companions he doesn't trust to keep you safe, are Piper and MacCready. Make of that what you will.

Curie; X6-88 (like, 10 years old) calls her unqualified and she (200ish) basically tells him to get the fuck back in the play pen

Danse; Sending his eyebrows to space by showing the smallest amount of care and affection. I'm pretty sure this man would die if someone asked if he was okay.

Deacon; talks a big game about being a liar, and being very good about it, but if you don't read that 'recall code' ASAP, he bugs you about it constantly because he hates lying to you. It's not even that you're being naive, he genuinely hates that he's being trusted when you were supposed to question him.

Dogmeat; my favorite thing about Dogmeat is that I'll spend an hour scrapping all dog houses in Sanctuary, make him a little area in my backyard with a house, food bowl, toys, a rug, and classical music, and he thanks me by getting up on my countertops to sleep, using my antique pie collection as bedding.

Gage; Wears a fake eyepatch and throws hissy fits when my army of sexy chads curbstomps his furries, Nepo babies, and Joker stans. This is entirely wishful thinking and I get why this didn't happen, but I would have liked an option to convince him "Hey, I'm coming back with my army to wipe out all these raiders, but I'll give you a chance to join me or leave since you also seem to hate these chuckleheads." I appreciate his shady convict uncle vibes. I would let him teach Shaun how to cheat at cards.

Hancock; takes mentats to feel "intellectual" when he has the second highest INT of all the companions. Also, his puppy dog eyes. "IM FERAL NOW" as he gets his ass kicked by a legendary god roach

MacCready; dork man. he has more cliche stock line jokes than Deacon. I unironically vibe with his taste in trailers, fucking LOVE leopard print (fake bc we don't fuck with wasteful animal hunting like that). He's a very cozy companion to travel with, for lack of a better description. Like if a thermos of soup was a human.

Nick; Nick is what I imagine Mac would be like as he got older—just a laid-back weirdo who wants whats best for you and will insult you so you understand that. I love his tacky ass agency sign. I wish you could put him in other clothes, because I need him in a bathrobe wielding a cane against my enemies. Just really succumb to the grumpy uncle vibes.

Old Longfellow; reminds me strongly of my old neighbor, an elderly southern gentleman who was a sniper in the military, had a chunky rottie named Baby, and once watched me play Fallout and gave his opinions on the design of the weapons in game. That man is now in Thailand with his girlfriend. I've never traveled with Longfellow but I'm pretty sure its a 1 to 1.

Preston; if you don't take Preston to Quincy, I don't blame you, because oh man, does he not have a great time there! Preston sounds five seconds away from snapping his gun over his knee and going for strangulation in Quincy. King shit.

Piper; I was pretty harsh to Piper but I love her gaslight gatekeep girlboss approach to her life. She's like an adult Junie B Jones. Piper has never had her shit together and is self-medicating with sugar harder than Hancock and Cait do with drugs. She's a cringefail woman. If Bethesda was brave they would have gone with her pixie cut concept.

X6-88; a blank canvas for me to go wild on with the fanon. But I love how he's just an asshole 10 year old murderbot that's scared of heights, thinks Power Armor is so cool he privately fangirls over Danse, is scared of children, and gushes over how awesome the Survivor is to his courser buddies. What a babe.

[brakingpoint]

Idk if you have seen this question go around twitter and tiktok, but i have seen a lot of people discuss "if the 20 drivers on the grid were in the hunger games, how would they perform?"

I would like to hear your take! :)

thank you SO much for sending me this... i would not call myself a hunger games connoisseur because i put all my energy into hyperfixating on the prequel instead but i AM a hunger games enthusiast and i spent far too long thinking about this in the shower. also i'm doing the 2022 grid bc i don't have the vibes of the 2023 newbies totally locked down yet

(also i'm doing this as everyone roughly competing in individual games as opposed to against each other. bc i think that is more fun)

max: adjusting for inflation (how old he was when he started f1 vs the age you have to be to do the hunger games) he is like, a career tribute in training from district 2 who jumps up and volunteers when he is about twelve and then effortlessly wins the whole thing. gives an insanely nonchalant victory interview, does the victory tour like he's being held at gunpoint, and then is never seen again

charles: finnick odair if he kept almost getting murdered by other people's poor decisions. receives the most strategically pointless gifts from sponsors. literally put him in a desert arena and he will inexplicably be sent raincoats by the dozen

checo: ceo of coasting his way to the final like, three or four tributes based on a combination of luck, occasionally clever moves, and mostly just getting forgotten by everyone. his downfall comes when he overestimates the loyalties of the tributes he's in an alliance with and they stab him in the back (literally) with no remorse

carlos: objectively promising, great scores when he does his little demonstration, capitol haircare brands are tripping over each other to do a deal with him when he wins (because surely he will) but in practice he's another one who mostly just shithouses his way to the final three/four by being in the right place at the right time

lewis: scarily good. wins 75% on strategy, stealth, and speed and 25% by occasionally lashing out and murdering someone off the face of the planet but somehow avoids blame for it. also you know he somehow manages to wear the fuck out of whatever heinous fit he gets put in to ride in those chariots

lando: almost inadvertently starts a revolution because from the second he shows up in the reaping he gets such a devoted nationwide teenage girl fanbase that there are legitimate riots when he dies through an objectively silly unforced error in the final days of the games. also almost inadvertently gets assassinated before the games even start because he says something landogate worthy about the president in his interview. he was just having a laff

esteban: is genuinely just sort of having a nice time camping out in the trees and avoiding all the drama. it is just very unfortunate that in some idk quarter quell gender ratio fuckery he managed to get reaped alongside his childhood bestie pierre who has devoted his entire time in the arena to murdering esteban and esteban specifially

fernando: absolutely fucking terrifying. they have to stop showing his murders on tv because he's a little too gory even for the central thesis of the hunger games as an institution. he's just chill about it though. cracking his little yokes

valtteri: builds up so much pure boiling rage from being constantly ignored compared to the other tribute from his district that after a week or so of surviving because everyone kept ignoring him he finally snaps, swings through the forest on a vine tarzan-style screaming TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN, FUCK YOU, takes out four career tributes in the space of fifteen seconds, and then slams right into another tree killing himself instantly

daniel: crowd favourite going into the arena. makes a little joke at the reaping, serves in all his silly little outfits, gets great scores, secures the most sponsors, has the most charming interview in the history of the hunger games. and then when he's on the little platform waiting for the games to start he gets a bit too excited, starts doing a little dance, and gets blown up immediately

seb: another unlikely child prodigy victor with a polarising but highly effective tactic of utter ruthlessness paired with being very charming and also crying a lot. he is at his most powerful and dangerous, however, when he moves into the mentoring side of things because not only is he just an objectively good mentor but he does it while plotting to take down the capitol from the inside at the same time. the hunger games trilogy vs the hunger games trilogy if katniss had sebastian vettel for a mentor

kevin: impressive scores from the gamemakers (voted most likely to have a bit of a katniss moment during the evaluation; fok smashes door on his way out?) but doesn't really do a whole lot during the actual games. makes it pretty far and has a couple of genuinely impressive kills but is let down by a lack of sponsors and getting a little too invested in his vicious rivalry with nico hulkenberg

pierre: bit of a rollercoaster ride. impressive pre-games energy, good scores, looks hot in the interview, but tries to hang with the career tributes very early on and nearly flops his way to an early grave. not to be discouraged, he strikes out on his own and makes it impressively far as a free agent, but keeps putting himself back in danger by focusing too much on a) regaining the respect of the careers who really couldn't care less and mostly just want to kill this guy every time he shows up and b) taking any opportunity to slaughter esteban. killed around the time of the cornucopia feast (yuki's fault)

lance: exceptionally dangerous but not intentionally so. at first the general commentary take is that he's very good at making his kills look like an accident, until they finally get the right camera angles and it transpires that all of his kills are in fact total accidents that come about through his own recklessness and stupidity. unlikely fan favourite due to his perpetual exasperation with his mentor (brad)

mick: the son of a fearsome victor from days gone by but largely underestimated due to his nice guy reputation. attempts to leverage this by taking a kind of johanna mason angle and appearing utterly unthreatening until the last minute when he plans to brutally and efficiently kill every other remaining tribute, but his tactic backfires dramatically due to the incompetence of his mentor and sponsors and he starves to death in the middle stages of the games

yuki: gets unexpectedly far due to his small stature making it easy to hide and by forming an alliance with pierre that charms the crowds and prompts widespread speculation about whether there is a romance brewing in the arena. unfortunately he gets them both killed with his reckless enthusiasm about the feast at the cornucopia

zhou: yet another one who gets really far mostly by being ignored. once he gets into the arena, that is. the entire buildup to the games is defined by his rapid ascent to capitol fashion icon. he wins the whole thing through a combination of laying low and getting sweet sweet sponsor gifts and then is permitted to stay in the capitol where he enjoys a prosperous career as stylist for future tributes

alex: he either dies in the very first brawl at the cornucopia OR sneaks his way to the final handful of tributes and wins the whole thing, no inbetween. if he does make it to the end he has at least one dramatic near death experience due to overestimating the kindness of the careers he forms a brief and tentative alliance with but he gets excellent medical care from his sponsors who are mostly supporting him because they saw a really cute video of his cats back in his home district

nicky: again he either dies immediately OR he coasts to the end by being a bit mid and forgettable foxface style and when there's around four tributes left he attempts a raid on their encampment to get food and somehow, in a series of events that no number of replays have ever successfully put into a logical sequence, blows up half the arena and everyone in it, leaving the games without a victor and setting into motion a series of events that lead to the downfall of the capitol, the destruction of half of panem, and a dramatic coup. after all this max verstappen finally looks out of the door of his house in the victor's village in what remains of district two, where he has been playing sim racing games for the past ten years, sort of shrugs his shoulders, and goes back to hanging out with his cats

bonus nico rosberg: district one career tribute, runner up, mostly remembered for the intense psychological warfare between himself and lewis after they formed an alliance in the first hour of the game that got so deeply homoerotic that the gamemakers were like full time on the phone to president snow like hey man. we might have to allow two victors this year or people are gonna be really mad. but luckily nico and lewis solved that problem themselves by turning on each other when they were the only two people left and engaging in a like three-week long increasingly toxic cat and mouse chase that had the entire nation glued to their televisions 25/8