#international box office

[doamarierose-honoka]

By passing ‘THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST’ at the box office, Deadpool has LITERALLY become Marvel Jesus.

[shadowboxerinc]

Box Office for October 11 - 13, 2024

10.13.24 Good evening…A new film is at the top of the box office Terrifier 3 is at the top spot with $18M, the second spot belongs to The Wild Robot with $81M, and the third spot goes to Joker: Folie a Deux with $52M. Thanks always to IMDb and Box Office Mojo for the information below. Credit Source: IMDb and Box Office Mojo Top Box Office (US) Weekend of October 11-13 10 Titles 1.…

[afro-elf]

okay yeah the people's sexiest man alive title is definitely bought

[muffinlance]

I received a notification for a package being sent. Would this be your book heading my way? If it is, I cannot wait. if it isn't, I cannot wait, but will be as patient as I need to be. Looking forward to having the book in my hands. Thank you for being an author.

It is, it is! All solo hardcover orders shipped today. Hoping to get hardcover bundles out tomorrow. :)

[blueskittlesart]

Is there an estimate ship date for the Eternal zine? 👉👈

current estimated date is sometime in early august! i should get them from the printers in late july (based on their estimate, which in my experience is usually accurate) and hopefully i'll be able to package and ship them all within a week or so! I am just one person and there were 140 orders this time around, though, so please be patient with me lol. you'll get an email when your order has shipped!

[faunandfloraas]

I should walk to the post office and send a package this morning but... the heat.

[aquitainequeen]

As of 6th June, the top gross for Furiosa outside of the USA is South Korea!

I'm very intrigued to see what happens when the film opens in China...

[scoringeffects]

stromer tess and chucky isabel.... oh what a beautiful morning. the sun is rising. life is vibrant and joyful once again. the bit in 11 where tess runs after danny when he's getting arrested again but as mcstrome is actually gonna make me crazy if i think about it for too long. so of course i will pivot to imagining leon climbing out of matthew's window and breaking his heart and neither of them really getting over it, surely that will avoid the crazy. (it will not.)

(also if we Really want to 2015 draft class it up we need a place for minchy, if he doesn't have one already)

dylcon as exes where they cant stop coming back to eachother and hoping each other has changed even tho they know they havent but they still mean the world to eachother and connor will say anything to get dylan back (i only lied about being a theif and i dont do that anymore (lying about not theiving)) and dylan wanting the truth/an honest man (i dont want to have to make that distinction) and also like connor lying about truly everything except loving dylan and dylan’s trust waning over time and obviously he deserves better and he deserves an honest man but connor’s so fucking bright just pulls everyone into him and compels everyone (something something about dylan previously thinking that he’s better, somehow, than any crew connor’s ever run with because he can tell when connor’s lying and which promises to trust and which to throw out and disregard but it turns out he’s not any better because he keeps coming back ?) AND SIMILARLY w mattleo like of course matthew (ans leon) act like it was a whatever one night stand bc that’s what they’re used to but like. it wasnt. not really. and the drunkest leon’s ever been he confesses to connor that he’s been in love twice in his life and climbing out matthew’s window broke his heart and he’d had half a mind to convince matthew to run away with him and build a life together but he’d had the job to do and that’s when he knew that he wasn’t really made for ‘build an honest life together’ type of love (connor also reminds him then that he didnt even tell matthew his real name, and what? you were going to have this great life and the whole time he’d be moaning out tim?) connor and leon here are like. noone else gets us/noone else deserves our nonsense/the least amount of collateral damage because theyre kinda as bad as eachother but they have so much trust in one another that they know they’re liars and thiefs and the way theyre living has a time limit and somethings gotta catch up to them eventually but until then. they’re together in this and they’ll go down together too. also an argument to be made that here connor and leon are like a binary star system orbiting eachother feeding off eachother not really able to survive without one another and absolute hell on anyone around them

[unprocione]

when visiting leon at home u Have to call ahead. You Have To. This man lives in a reclused modernist / industrialist home with massive square windows down a mile long driveway into the middle of forested nowhere, self-medicates, suffers from intense ptsd, and with a high-stress job at a government level is probably into some kind of lifestyle kink to cope. He's walking around naked in his back garden at 1:00 in the afternoon, garden hose in one hand with a mai tai in the other, and that's a good day for him.

[meret118]

Microsoft Office, like many companies in recent months, has slyly turned on an “opt-out” feature that scrapes your Word and Excel documents to train its internal AI systems. This setting is turned on by default, and you have to manually uncheck a box in order to opt out.

If you are a writer who uses MS Word to write any proprietary content (blog posts, novels, or any work you intend to protect with copyright and/or sell), you’re going to want to turn this feature off immediately.How to Turn off Word’s AI Access To Your Content

I won’t beat around the bush. Microsoft Office doesn’t make it easy to opt out of this new AI privacy agreement, as the feature is hidden through a series of popup menus in your settings:On a Windows computer, follow these steps to turn off “Connected Experiences”:

File > Options > Trust Center > Trust Center Settings > Privacy Options > Privacy Settings > Optional Connected Experiences > Uncheck box: “Turn on optional connected experiences”

[doamarierose-honoka]

The joyride continues for Disney and Pixar’s Inside Out 2 which has entered the list of Top 10 highest-grossing movies ever worldwide. Now thisclose to $1.524B global ($1,523.9M) through Wednesday, the sequel has cruised past Furious 7 ($1.515B) and The Avengers ($1.521B) to land the No. 10 spot on the all-time chart.

Through Wednesday, the international box office cume is $905.1M. Mexico, where IO2 is the highest grossing movie ever, has crossed $100M, while the final release market — Japan — starts play today. Domestically, IO2 is at $618.8M through yesterday.

The Top 10 offshore markets to date are Mexico ($100.5M), Brazil ($77.3M/highest-grossing movie ever), UK ($64.9M), Korea ($58.2M), France ($55.6M), Italy ($47.1M), China ($45.9M), Germany ($44.7M), Spain ($44.4M) and Australia ($35.1M).

A little more than a week ago, the Kelsey Mann-directed charmer became the biggest animated film ever worldwide when it overtook Frozen II.

IO2 has been on a mind-blowing run since it began offshore rollout on June 12, with domestic joining on June 14. At the time, the launch weekend logged the biggest opening for an animated movie worldwide at $295M (when using current exchange rates and in like-for-like markets).

Inside Out 2 then quickly topped the $1B global milestone, getting there in just 19 days — fastest to the mark for any animated movie. It is the highest-grossing film of 2024 to date, and the only one to cross $1B so far. In early July, IO2 became Pixar’s highest-grossing film of all time worldwide.

[shadowboxerinc]

Box Office News for December 6-8, 2024

12.8.24 Good evening, everybody! How is everyone doing? We’re doing pretty good over here and we have the information about today’s box office domestic and global. Today’s post will be different. The data from IMDb has not changed yet, so I will be using the data from Box Office Mojo. Moana 2, Wicked, and Gladiator 2 are still the top three on the list. Let’s see how the rest of the list fairs…

[pooltablemoversla]

Trusted Billiards Los Angeles just posted a new article on LinkedIn. Check it out, the latest on Pool Table Moving in Los Angeles.

[reidrum]

exile

note: happy december i hope ur all doing well <3 a little something to hold u over until next friday when i start 12 days of reidrumas ok love u

summary: in which you and JJ are the ones held hostage in truth or dare

cw: spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, hurt/comfort, angst, fem!reader, a heated makeout, reader wears a dress and heels, take a shot everytime reader tears up

wc: 3.6k

p.s. i am a glutton for praise if you couldn't tell from any of my fics but i love hearing what y'all think so plsplspls lemme know your thoughts in a comment or drop in my ask box!!!!

You’re not really sure where it went wrong.

When you joined JJ to pursue Casey, it was out of convenience. You both were simply closer to his last location. No one could’ve predicted he’d take you both hostage or make you play a twisted game of truth or dare at gunpoint.

No one could have predicted that Casey would force you and JJ to reveal details that hadn’t seen the light of day. He didn’t even care for those secrets, egging you both on to reveal something that would satisfy his masochistic itch. When he realizes that neither of you would break, he ups the ante by angling the gun to the middle of your head. JJ panics and speaks before she can even process what she said.

Because as you’re staring down the barrel of the gun clocked at your forehead, you realize the bullet isn’t inside the cylinder, it’s in JJ’s next words.

I’ve always loved Spencer.

You look at her mouth agape, blood draining from your face and tears springing to your eyes. She returns your gaze with one full of remorse and pity. To any onlooker, it would seem like a harmless confession. But they didn’t know the times you confided in JJ about your feelings for Spencer, the late nights at the office she’d stay with you giving advice and words of wisdom, when all JJ wanted was for her friend to be happy.

But now, how much of that can you believe to be true?

Casey seems to be satisfied with your reaction as he lowers his gun, with you reacting quickly grabbing your hidden second pistol and gunning him down. The only audible noise left is the heavy breathing of you both, the adrenaline rush starting to fade. JJ says your name remorsefully, but she’s interrupted by the rest of the team and police arriving to the scene.

The next thing you remember is sitting outside on the back of an ambulance rig, blankly staring out at your new reality. JJ loves Spencer.

You couldn’t compete, how could you? She was JJ. and you were, you. You had lost before you even began, you might as well toss the towel now.

It makes hugging Spence for what could be the last time—not to be dramatic—bittersweet. To know that this is an insignificantly normal moment he won’t remember, but one that you’ll play on repeat for the rest of your life.

Spencer holds you close into his chest with his arm smoothing out your back, “Thank god you’re okay, are you hurt?”

You scoff internally. Yes, but not in a way that can be fixed. In a way that you are not privy to yet, but once you are it will rip us to shreds.

“I’m fine, just a few scratches.”

He nods while examining you with his own mental checklist, “Okay, if your head starts hurting or your vision gets blurry you need to tell the EMT.” you nod as he adds on, “I’m gonna go check on JJ, you’ll be okay?”

No, no I won’t. There is no reality that exists where I can be okay anymore.

“I’m good. Go.”

He squeezes your shoulders and with another nod he walks over to where JJ rests on another ambulance rig, her arms instantly opening to welcome Spencer’s warm embrace. His back is facing you and JJ’s face rests over his shoulder, her eyes meeting yours in a look of sadness, grief. You look away before you can read more into it.

Wrapping the foil blanket around you tighter you let your head fall back and stare at the night sky, hoping there was a message out in the stars that would tell you what to do.

Your relationship with Spencer was, on the surface, nothing more than a friendship. He had joined the BAU only a year prior to you and when you came along it was clear from the first second that you two would be inseparable. Small talks in the bullpen quickly turned into mornings spent at the coffee shop, into weekly movie nights debating the superior science fiction franchise, to holding his hand when he needed a friend.

To Spencer, you were his anchor. Through all the trials and tribulations his life had dealt him, he knew he didn’t need to worry so much as long as you were around.

To you, Spencer was all consuming. He was threaded through every neuron and vessel in your body, intricately and impossibly tethered to you that it would take the work of the divine to painfully separate him from you.

Or, one Jennifer Jaraeu.

You don’t even realize tears are falling down your face until the EMT taps your shoulder and asks if anything has started to hurt again. Quickly shaking your head, you unravel yourself from the foil blanket and hand it back to her. You spare one last glance back at Spencer and JJ, eyes immediately zeroing on their joined hands, his thumb gently brushing the top of hers.

Your feet trudge you back to where the team is set up, one look to Emily and she’s already excusing herself from her conversation. She walks over to you phone up to her ear, saying something about you. You’re not really sure, it’s all water noise.

“Anderson will be here in about five minutes to take you home,”

You nod silently, not willing to make eye contact. Emily could sense your turmoil from a mile away, chalk it up to the Pisces moon in her but behind the hard exterior she put up there lay Emily, your empathetic friend who just wanted to hug your shattered pieces back together.

“You’ll be okay?” The second time you’ve been asked, your answer is still unchanged.

No. “Yeah.”

She sighs knowingly. The reason the two of you were such close friends was because of your similar ability to remain emotionally bottled up until it was too late, resulting in an outburst enough to take out armies and yourselves.

Anderson honks the car as he pulls up, alerting you of his arrival. Emily looks from the car back to you,  “I should go check on JJ.”

“Woman of the hour, it seems.” you chuckle under your breath.

Emily gives you that look, the conflicted ‘I’m sorry our friend made you feel this way, I still have to check on her.” look.

You brush her off, your casualness hopefully sending the message that the situation isn’t that deep. For her, you think.

The sound of the car unlocking rings through your ear as you hop in the passenger seat. Anderson tries to make small talk with you to no success, settling for the late night 00s radio station as he pulls up to your house, driving off as you bid him goodnight with a wave.

The breeze of your empty apartment greets you as you open the door, the air chillier than you’d expect for the season. You tug your shoes off harshly, placing your keys on the mail table next to the door. Your heart drops as you catch sight of a floral embossed card lying on top of your mail on the table.

Rossi’s wedding.

The one you were told to absolutely prioritize, the one in which JJ had helped you find a dress for, the one where you hoped you’d feel brave enough to tell Spencer how you truly felt.

You sigh deeply knowing you still had to show up and look presentable tomorrow despite being held hostage only 24 hours prior. But, maybe this is how you make a clean break. All this time you’ve been in love with Spencer and nothing has happened, despite all the signs you think you’re giving him. Maybe this is the opportunity to save Spencer from further tension, albeit unknown to him at this point, and let him finally be happy.

You knew about the Redskins game, how excited he was to go with JJ and yet it turned into something he hadn’t anticipated. You were new to the BAU at the time but your heart still ached for him, unable to understand how anyone would pass up on someone so special like Spencer Reid. It seems she’s finally come to her senses.

You take your dead phone out of your pocket to place it on the charger and you head into the bathroom to take a quick shower. The hot water loosens your tense muscles enough to prick tears in the back of your eyes, and you turn off the water before you can get too worked up. Once you’ve dried off you check on your phone on the bedside table seeing it’s turned back on, a flurry of missed texts and calls showing up.

11:14PM - Emily: Get home safe?

You heart the message and reply with a simple ‘Yes.’, scrolling to the next messages.

10:09PM - JJ:  Did you get home? 10:10PM - Missed Call from JJ 10:15PM - (2) Missed Calls from JJ 10:24PM - JJ:  I’m sorry, please let me explain. 10:25PM - Missed Call from JJ

You consider leaving her on read, not willing to entertain a conversation at this point, but you settle for an ‘It’s fine.’ for the sake of having communicated your safety.

10:13PM - Spence: Hey, where are you? 10:20PM - Spence: The EMT said you took off? Did you leave? 11:34PM - Spence: Emily just told me Anderson drove you back. You could’ve told me, I would have taken you home.

Your chuckle sadly at the text, Spencer hated driving but he would do it for you. It almost makes you think that your relationship could withstand the harsh weathering it’s been subjected to.

12:07AM - You: Sorry, phone died. I’m home now.

A response dings through a minute later.

12:08AM - Spence: I’ll go to the store tomorrow and get you a portable charger to keep in your bag. You should get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow for the wedding right? Well, the wedding that’s today seeing as it’s past midnight. You know what I mean.

A single tear falls down your face at his rambling words. Oh, how you’d miss this once he learns what’s really happened.

12:10AM - You: I’ll be there. See you tomorrow, or today? You know what I mean. Good night.

12:11AM - Spence: Good night :)

—

You smooth out your dress before going up the steps, making eyes with Penelope at the top. You’re wearing a silk chiffon dress in purple, deliberately picked for Spencer’s favorite color, some strappy heels and some dainty jewelry painting you in as the picture of elegance.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you!” Penelope exclaims squeezing you tightly, “You look sooo pretty, doesn’t she look so pretty?” she gestures to the two men behind her you now acknowledge to be Luke and Spencer.

“Like a dream.” Luke agrees.

“Yeah,” Spencer clears his throat, “You look…beautiful.”

Penelope the Oracle of All Time quickly senses the 

atmosphere created and grabs Luke’s forearm, “Come on, you owe me that dance now!” She looks back and slyly gives you a thumbs up before dragging Luke further onto the dance floor.

Spencer slips into the vacated space to be right next to you, “How are you feeling?”

You know he’s asking about how you were held hostage at gunpoint, and not about how he’s about to become the loss of your life.

“ ‘M fine,” you swirl your champagne glass, “You?”

“Better now.”

A ghost of a smile creeps up on you, but you don’t let it travel further than that. He’s just being nice.

“Well, I’m just going to find the bathroom really quick.”

He holds a hand out for your glass, “Here, I’ll hold it.”

Your smile returns with bearings this time as you wander off in search of the bathroom. You’d feel embarrassed by how long it took you to find it but this place was massive, the Rossi money ran deep. Retracing your steps back to the main room you find Spencer and your glass not in the same place he was when you left. You scan the room looking for him and finally find him deep in conversation with—oh.

They’re too far for you to be able to hear them, but you can imagine that it’s the conversation. You watch JJ squeeze his forearm with affection and suddenly you can’t take it anymore. You couldn’t stand there and watch yourself become collateral in real time. Spencer turns at the sound of rustling up the spiral staircase followed by a door closing, catching the last glimpse of purple before it vanishes.

Spencer feels sick. He’s overwhelmed and overstimulated at the new information he’s learned about what really happened in the gas station. Then he comes to the realization of how walking in on him and JJ talking must have made you feel. His feet are carrying him up the stairs before he even realizes he’s made the choice. 

He finds you at the end of the hallway and calls out your name with a firmness you’d never heard from him. But you’ve cut all the strings of sanity by now, and you whip around and snap, “What?”

He doesn’t like that tone. “JJ told me what happened.”

You snort and don’t meet his eyes, “Oh, did she?”

His brows furrow, “Yes, she did.”

“And?”

“And what?”

And what? Is he serious? Did you have to spell it out for him? It borderlines sadist the way he’s putting you through the ringer.

“What happens now, Spencer?” you exasperate, “Is this the part where you tell me we can’t be friends anymore because she finally confessed?”

Confusion colors his face more, “Why wouldn’t we be friends?”

A halfway scream—groan leaves your throat in frustration. “Spencer, come on.”

“Honey, I don’t understand—“

“That! See, you can’t just say things like that knowing what has to happen, and expect me to react like a normal person.” you exclaim with hands flailing.

“I’m really confused—“

“Because I’m in love with you!” you cry, “Now do you see why?”

Time all but stills in the hallway you’ve found yourselves in. You don’t know how long you’ve been up here. It’s a little farther down from the stairways so there’s no threat of evesdroppers, but with how worked up you’re getting the proximity renders itself useless. The faint muffle of animated conversations and lively jazz music fills the silence between you and Spencer, who looks like…well, actually for once you can’t decipher what he’s feeling. 

He looks like he’s about to open his mouth when you both turn your head to the ascending footsteps—JJ looking for you, or Spencer probably, to come cut the cake. Spencer darts his eyes between the walls, a nervous tic you’d caught on to, before you realize he’s looking for a door and pulling you inside one. You yelp at the unexpected force and quickly quiet down again. The light switches on and based on the furniture you conclude that it’s a powder room, because of course Rossi’s venue has a powder room.

It’s a tiny room, big enough for a vanity table and a chaise lounge. Small enough to not have any room to leave without going past him. You stand an arm’s length away from him, the faint muffles of talk and music replaced by your sniffling. You shouldn’t have come, you start to realize. Having to say goodbye to him in person might actually rip you apart. Your chest weighs heavy with that familiar sad irony of mourning someone who hasn’t even told you they’re leaving yet. Preemptive measures that turned into routine practice. 

You sniffle, “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, not that it ever did. I’m sorry I just sprung it on you like that, that was unfair. JJ…I thought JJ was my friend, I guess she is still but I’m not too sure now. But…she’s JJ and I’m just me and I know both of your pasts with each other so obviously it would be her. I’m making this too big a deal, I think. I just want you to be happy, in whatever capacity that looks like and I know it’s not with me so—“

Spencer stops your rambling by silently reaching out for your arm to pull you right in front of him, his hands reach to cup your face up to his, thumbs naturally swiping away the tears. He says your name like a coo, with a softness and delicacy you don’t feel you deserve right now. It hurts your heart entirely.

“Please don’t make this harder than it is.” you whisper through soft sobs.

You don’t know when it happens. Maybe in between scrunching your eyes or staring at your feet—but it happens. A cold pressure, then warmth, his lips are warm when he kisses you. A little surprising that he still tastes like Penelope’s sugary mocktail from earlier. A welcome pressure on your face as he holds you in place, as if you’d slip away further if he let go.

He stills in place, thinking he’s overstepped, until you finally remember that his lips are on your lips. You return the force back with as much as he gave you and let your arms loop around his neck, his own sliding from your face to take purchase on your hips.

That’s when Spencer starts kissing you. His hands grip your hips and tug you even closer as he deepens the kiss, plunging deeper back into the plush of your thighs to sit you on top of the vanity table. He slots himself between your legs, your hands wandering up to tug at the hairs on the nape of his neck. A soft groan leaves his throat and he detaches from your lips to amble down your neck, leaving a trail of lovebites in its wake.

This is wrong, like so wrong. You’re practically opening a salt box and pouring its entire contents on your wounds. But dammit, if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Spencer, you’re sure as hell going to make the most out of the fleeting moment.

He mumbles something in between kisses to your neck, you instinctively ask him to say it again not expecting a response, and you immediately regret it as you feel his presence get lighter as he pulls away.

One more kiss to the spot behind your ear, he feels you preening below him and makes note of this—amongst everything else—for later, he pulls back to meet your eyes again.

“I love you.”

Your face drops, “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not being funny.”

Yes he is, he has to be. Because the universe in which Spencer Reid allows a piece of—the whole of it according to him, unbeknownst to you—his heart to be fully yours is not this one. You’ve never had luck like that.

“Then you’re lying to me, and that’s worse.” your voice cracks, Spencer feels the same crack imprinted on his heart.

“Sweetheart, I’m not lying. I love you.” He says it again to your surprise, the tenderness of his touch returning as he deliberates how to disarm you. The defensiveness you have isn’t surprising to him, it’s the note of insecurity in your tone he isn’t ready for, like you are unable to even believe it could be you. 

You’re a dandelion, he thinks, the puffballs teetering attachment to their base with one wrong move sending them astray into the wind. He’s wading treacherous weather but he finds that for you he’d do anything and everything eyes closed if he had to.

“…Really?” you ask meekly. He nods slowly, never breaking his gaze on you. “But…JJ.”

His eyes soften and he nods in understanding, “There was a point in my life where, yes that was all I was waiting to hear,” he starts, “But, I am no longer at that point in my life anymore. I’m here now. She knows that.”

You’re unconvinced, Spencer can see it clear as day. Maybe it’s more apprehensive than unconvinced, but no one could blame you. How are you to believe anything when you went through what you did in the last 24 hours? You look defeated if anything, like you’d accepted your fate of always coming second place.

Spencer racks his brain hard trying to think of a way to show you that the podium doesn’t even exist, it’s only ever been you.

He pulls out his wallet and rifles through the many things inside, finding what he’s looking for before handing it to you. You look up at him in confusion when you make it out to be a movie ticket stub from the Korean film festival you’d both attended a little after you started at the BAU, the first time the two of you ever spent time together. The edges are soft and smoothed out as a result of time, like it’s been held and comforted for many days.

“There’s more in my apartment.”

“Movie ticket stubs?” you ask bemused.

“Commemorations of you,” his fingers brush the span of your arm up and down soothingly, “I probably have something for every time we’ve ever hung out. If it reminds me of you, I have it.”

Tears well up in your eyes for the umpteenth time, a few spilling over rapidly.

“Hey no, you’re not supposed to cry at that.” he whispers softly between you, his thumb taking the rightful and familiar place under your eye to catch the tears.

You shake your head, “I don’t think I’ve ever been loved like this.”

His heart tightens, “No? Well, I think you have to get used to it now.”

“No choice?” you pout.

He catches the timbre of humor in your voice and smiles widely. He hugs you tightly, pressing your head into his chest, “I guess you don’t have to. Just because you’re not used to it doesn’t mean I’ll stop. If you’re like this now, wait till you see the box I have of our things.”

You sniffle again, your head reeling as your tears stain his shirt and the scent of him invades your being. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, just how you know Spencer to be. He doesn’t expect you to believe him right away, you’ve been through so much that it would be unfair to ask that of you. You don’t know what tomorrow holds, or even the rest of this night, but one thing you have learned is that to Spencer you are known, and therefore you are loved.

[prettyboykatsuki]

cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou

✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.

✮ wc ; 1k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3

✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.

Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.

He can Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.

And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.

The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.

He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.

Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?

Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.

His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen

(sent 11:12am) coming down :]

Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.

(sent 11:12am) missed you <3

He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.

(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.

That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.

He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.

You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.

"Hey,"

"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."

"No shit."

You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.

"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.

Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."

Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.

He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.

"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."

You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.

"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.

"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"

?!

Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.

"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."

"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.

"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"

"You made it for me."

"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"

"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.

"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't gotta say sorry either."

"But,"

"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."

You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"

He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."

"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.

"Hm?"

You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.

"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."

He's in so deep. Fuck.

"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.

"You love me,"

Maybe he's an idiot too.

"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."

[plutotheplum]

ᡣ𐭩 zayne | head under the desk ᡣ𐭩

zayne is a professional man, by all standards.

or he tries to convince himself that he is. he treats his patients with respect, listens to their concerns and provides them with the help they need. he is a professional. 

but you seem to turn professionalism on its head. zayne doesn’t know how it started, although he suspects it was when you squirmed onto his lap in the afternoon, complaining about how he was spending too much time in his office and not enough time at home. zayne had soothed your worries with a kiss and a squeeze to the waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he had worked through the necessary paperwork for his patients.

he hadn’t quite understood then why you’d insisted on sitting on the floor of all places, worming out of his lap and into the space between his legs, your cheek resting on his thigh. he hadn’t even minded until he felt your fingers pulling at his chair, boxing you in under his desk. zayne had protested, but his resolve shattered the moment you had mouthed at his clothed cock, your mouth wet against the fabric of his slacks.

you were insatiable, zayne had realised in that moment, his eyes narrowing as he had watched the haze that had come over your eyes as you’d drooled on his slacks, mouthing and licking and making soft, little noises until he gave in and pulled his cock out for you.

he had watched you take it, despite the threatening urge to let his head tip back, your mouth making room for his thick cock as you slurped and sucked, tongue flicking at his throbbing head, wet with pre-cum. you had made him cum like that, mouth working along his cock, obscene noises filling his professional space. and you swallowed it down too, like a good girl, his voice rasping and breathless as he’d praised you and caressed your cheek, smearing the tip of his cock against your lips to watch his cum be licked up by his darling.

zayne shouldn’t have let you do it.

it’s why he’s in this situation now, his cock stuffed down your throat and some intern sitting across from him, droning on about suturing techniques. zayne tries to pay attention, he really does, but when you suckle at the sensitive head of his cock, a shudder rushes through him, his hand slapping against the desk in an effort to stop the moan.

the intern asks whether he’s okay and zayne can only give him a jerky nod, his gaze dropping down for a split second to see the soft smile on your face as you kiss the tip of his cock delicately. zayne thinks you look beautiful. 

beautiful but devious with the way you latch onto his balls, his hand clenching into a fist as he tells the intern that yes, a simple interrupted suture would be best. zayne tries to think through the heavy haze of arousal, his vision blurring for a moment when he feels you nuzzle into his cock, beginning to lap at the tip again. 

he can feel you shift subtly, trapping his leg between your thighs, your hips rocking needily as you take his cock deeper, your greedy fingers creeping up to feel his tensed abdomen. his cock is terribly sensitive and you aren’t helping, so much so that he mutters a low curse.

zayne has no choice but to cut the discussion short, telling the intern that no, he is actually feeling sick. the intern looks apologetic as he leaves and zayne groans the moment the intern is out the door, his teeth sinking into his fist as he leans back and watches you worship his cock. 

you’re both too addicted to the rush of indecency to stop. zayne puts his hand on your head, guiding you down slowly until you swallow the entirety of his cock, your fingers moving needily between your thighs as you suck greedily, drinking down every drop of pre-cum that zayne has to offer.

he can feel the press of your nose against his pelvis, his head dropping forward as he peers down into your eyes, thumb smoothing over the outline that his cock has made against your cheek. 

you let your tongue loll out and zayne bites back a whine as he slaps his cock against your tongue, feeding it to you again until you suck and lick and he’s cumming, thighs twitching and chair creaking as he presses his hips forward, flush against your mouth.

he covers his face with his hand, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. zayne can feel the curve of your smile against his skin as you kiss his thighs, and watches you dazedly as you rise up and crawl up onto his lap, peppering sticky kisses along his cheek before licking into his mouth.

zayne can taste himself on your tongue, a soft moan spilling out of him when he feels you press closer, breasts squished up against his chest, your smile and starry eyes making his head spin and heart ache. 

it’s only right of him to repay the favor when you get home, his mouth lapping at your cunt over and over until you cry and beg for his cock, utterly overstimulated and yet still needy.

he stuffs you full with his cock, fucks you until you’re both limbless and sensitive and curled up together in bed, arms and legs tangled in a messy embrace. 

“fun,” you mumble, voice hoarse, “again?” 

“no,” zayne replies, his own voice raspy, “you can’t do that again.”

he smiles faintly when he sees the pout on your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks to make your lips pucker out so that he can kiss you gently.

zayne is nothing if not terribly weak for you. 

you end up under his desk, fat cock stuffed down your throat the following week.