slot289-terbaik

[starry-bite]

late to the party obv but the criminal minds season 7 finale two-parter had me coughing up my guts oh my GOD my EMOTIONS jfc

[daughterofsarenrae]

Holy shit this is the furthest ive ever gone in the crk arena. I'm in the top 30%

[hood-ex]

Keith might have just taken hold of the blorbo seat. S2E8 was a great episode for him. And when he was hurt, his lion started raging and fucking shit up. Hell yeah! That's the type of devotion I liiive for! Let's go team red! Plus then Shiro intervened and was also about to throw down on Keith's behalf.

Shiro's dad behavior is raising him in the blorbo ranks as well because now I just want to read protective Shiro fics.

[maranull]

SPY X FAMILY is the best isn't it?

It really is! I haven't enjoyed anime this much since, like, 2018.

Almost every single character is lovable or fun, it is incredibly cute and peaceful which raises up the occasional action scene even more, and also the more serious themes it sometimes touches it does so pretty well, I think.

And season 3 has one of my favourite mini-arcs in anime ever. I don't think many shows can do such sudden changes from cute and wholesome to fast passed action and suspense. Like, I shouldn't be laughing one minute and crying the next, that sudden change in tone shouldn't be working, but they somehow pulled it off with Yor's fights in the cruise ship.

Really cemented itself in my fav-anime-of-all-time list.

[pemguims]

okay updated tier list. scp made me care 1000% more abt random teams. alas

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[donnydamakkk]

killing this lil gingered fuck at the top of the final season woulda been such a serve omg

[mononijikayu]

hey lover! series

"did you hear?"

"huh? about what?"

"that actor ryomen sukuna!"

"what about him?"

"apparently he's dating his co-star!"

"what, really!?"

"yeah, but get this!"

"what?"

"we don't really know!"

GENRE: alternate universe - actors/celeb au

WARNING/S: not safe for work (nsfw), r-18 and above, singers au!, romance, fluff, minor angst, slow burn, humour, slice of life, will they won't they, light-hearted, flirting, playful, possessiveness, teasing, explicit content, possible, kissing, sexual content, innuendos, drama, feels, hurt/comfort, falling in love, love, happy ending, actor/singer! sukuna, actress/celeb! reader;

(a still from their romance upcoming film, winter)

ARE RYOMEN SUKUNA AND [Your Name] SECRETLY DATING? FANS ARE SPIRALLING AS THE TENSION CONTINUES TO BOIL!

By Akira Himasa, Writer for the Shibuya Scoop; Gossip Guru Extraordinaire;

Move over, celebrity couples of the year! The world has only one question on its mind: Are Sukuna and (Y/N) secretly dating?

Rumors have been swirling faster than a cursed energy storm, and fans are in a frenzy after the latest on-set shenanigans between the two enigmatic co-stars!

The notorious King of Curses, played by the enigmatic and charming Ryomen Sukuna, has always been known for his intense, bone-chilling stare and deadly aura.

But lately, sharp-eyed fans have noticed something peculiar: Sukuna seems to have a soft spot when it comes to actress (YN).

While the two have shared screen time in plenty of heated battles, the off-screen tension is what’s truly raising eyebrows.

Sources close to the set have reported seeing Sukuna offering you snacks between takes (Snacks! from the King of Curses!!) and making suspiciously heartfelt eye contact during rehearsals. And even enjoys private times in each other's trailer!!!

"You can cut the tension with a knife." said one insider, who claims they even saw the two laughing together. Laughing. Together. Are the sparks flying, or are they just that good at acting?

This week, both stars were spotted leaving a trendy Tokyo restaurant together. Sukuna, as usual, attempted to keep things mysterious by scowling (standard Sukuna protocol), while you looked effortlessly relaxed, sporting a mischievous grin that drove the internet WILD.

Fans on Twitter immediately exploded with theories.

“They’re totally dating! The way they look at each other can’t be just acting,” one fan tweeted. Another added, “I’m ready to ship it! Ryomen Sukuna x (Y/N) are THE couple of the century.”

But not everyone is buying it. Some skeptics claim it’s all a clever marketing ploy to build hype for the upcoming season.

"There's no way Sukuna would let anyone get that close," scoffed one source close to the actor's entourage. "He's Ryomen freaking Sukuna—romance isn't in his script!"

Meanwhile, fans worldwide are dissecting every interview, every behind-the-scenes video, and even Sukuna’s posture next to you during press events.

The alleged chemistry has reached fever pitch, with TikTok compilations of your most flirtatious moments going viral, and conspiracy theories flying about Sukuna’s infamous smirk during your most recent interview.

So, are they? Or aren’t they?

In a cryptic joint statement (because of course there’s a statement), Ryomen Sukuna and (L/N) (Y/N) had this to say: “We’re just very close.” (WINK WINK.)

Is this the biggest non-denial of the year? Or are we all being played like cursed puppets?

The world may never know. But one thing's for sure: Sukuna and [Your Name] are the hottest topic in town, and we can’t look away!

Stay tuned for more updates—because whether it’s love or just top-tier acting, we’re hooked!

➽───────────❥

THE SOURCE SAYS..................

CHAPTER (1) — RUMOURS

CHAPTER (2) — THE FEELS

CHAPTER (3) — OMG

CHAPTER (4) — WE GO

CHAPTER (5) — TBA

CHAPTER (6) — TBA

CHAPTER (7) — TBA

CHAPTER (8) — TBA

[COMING SOON]

[sparrowlucero]

Instead of discourse about showrunners and lesbians and whatever, I'm gonna bring a different type of discourse...whats ur fav and least Dr Whomst monsters. Hard mode: only the practical ones.

ok so I do like all the obvious ones, I like the angels, I like the vashta nerada, I like the not-things, I like the eternals. Here's a few deeper cuts (focusing on the tv show specifically):

they peaked with these maggots. they rock. pretty sure they're made with taxidermy? really great puppetry. I really like this thing:

what a cool design for this kind of forgotten midseason episode.

this is such a fun design for a langolier-type monster. I love how their crest and tail gives them the silhouette of a grim reaper

The 60s cybermen rock. I feel like they're hesitant to use them often in the modern show because they do look very 1960s but I think there's something really uncomfortable and evocative about the cloth faces that's lost when they're cool metallic robots. The mix between looking like an old diving suit and the implication of there being a chopped up person inside is gnarly and I love it. Simple, creepy, iconic design.

My favorite design in the show is probably this:

The 456 from the spinoff series torchwood. They didn't need the puppet to emote or move a ton since it spends the entire season in a little tank obscured in mist, so they just went crazy with the design and made it really bizarre looking. Extremely top tier alien. Anyways, negative. I really don't like this satan. the satan kind of sucks. the impossible planet is great atmospheric sci fi horror; every image of build up in it is haunting and leagues ahead of the climactic scene where he meets the satan. It singlehandedly kind of kills the vibe.

Personally I would have just kept the actual appearance off screen, just have it be eyes in the dark or something. Apparently they also tossed around the idea that it would end up being a normal little girl who was chained up in the cave and I think that would have visually fit the rest of the episode better.

I'm really not big on the modern design for the sea devils (the green one on the right). I think the classic ones clearly took a lot of direct influence from real animals and generally is a pretty thoughtfully realized design, the modern ones seem like they were first and foremost using the classic ones for reference and didn't quite capture the nuance of the design. Sad, as I would really like to see design for these guys with modern puppetry.

I think this is actually a pretty contentious opinion but the work of the specific studio who headed this redesign generally wasn't my favorite. Apparently there was some sort of major, semi public falling out between the fx studio that had been working on the show since 2005 and the people who started running the show in 2018, and they were briefly replaced with a much less experienced studio. No hate to them of course (I think this was actually their first job like, ever, and a lot of the work was done in crunch time?) but the difference did stand out to me:

[kradogsrats]

GOD so what a thing to put in a silent, 60-second scene at the end of an episode and then NOT RETURN TO AGAIN, because like... this is the "the cube always rolls toward one point" payoff????

They've shown it in kind of a weird way, because unlike... idk, me, a sensible person, who would record the direction in which the cube rolled with arrows or something, Callum is recording the angle of the marks it leaves on the ground as a series of lines:

This means the lines are 90 degrees off from the direction of the cube's motion, so taking that into account we get something like this:

Each shape is marked on the map as somewhere he has been with the cube, very roughly: triangle for Lux Aurea, rectangle for the Storm Spire, circle for Umber Tor, crown for Katolis, and the diagonal cross is their current location on the way to the Frozen Sea.

Line them all up on the map and we get:

Not sure what's going on with Umber Tor there, unless they at some point changed the map location from the Sea of the Castout, in which case it would line up perfectly. (The blue circle is the rough area they're currently at for the diagonal cross, being almost to the Frozen Sea coming from Katolis.)

So the cube is rolling toward, of all places, Duren. The point Callum marks is just north of the border with Katolis and due west of the Breach. But Duren. Not Aaravos's prison, not the Starscraper, not Elarion. Duren. Was that maybe where Aaravos's home with Leola was?

Anyway, this is insane. They have mentioned this feature of the cube once. In Callum's Spellbook, which is not exactly top-tier content. And now, completely without explanation, they're chucking this at us at the end of *checks watch* EPISODE TWO and then smoke-bombing away into the rest of the season.

[cherryjamandtoast]

UPS TEAMSTERS-UNION WON !!!!!!!!!!!

From the article:

[(WASHINGTON) – Today, the Teamsters reached the most historic tentative agreement for workers in the history of UPS, protecting and rewarding more than 340,000 UPS Teamsters nationwide. The overwhelmingly lucrative contract raises wages for all workers, creates more full-time jobs, and includes dozens of workplace protections and improvements. The UPS Teamsters National Negotiating Committee unanimously endorsed the five-year tentative agreement.

“Rank-and-file UPS Teamsters sacrificed everything to get this country through a pandemic and enabled UPS to reap record-setting profits. Teamster labor moves America. The union went into this fight committed to winning for our members. We demanded the best contract in the history of UPS, and we got it,” said Teamsters General President Sean M. O’Brien. ... This contract sets a new standard in the labor movement and raises the bar for all workers.”

“UPS came dangerously close to putting itself on strike, but we kept firm on our demands. In my more than 40 years in Louisville representing members at Worldport — the largest UPS hub in the country — I have never seen a national contract that levels the playing field for workers so dramatically as this one....” said Teamsters General Secretary-Treasurer Fred Zuckerman. “We stayed focused on our members and fought like hell to get everything that full-time and part-time UPS Teamsters deserve.”

“Rank-and-file members served on the committee for the first time, ... “Our hard work has paid off — from those members and leaders negotiating for more at the table to my sisters and brothers building a credible strike threat around the country. Our union was organized and we were relentless. We’ve hit every goal that UPS Teamster members wanted and asked for with this agreement. It’s a ‘yes’ vote for the most historic contract we’ve ever had.”

Highlights of the tentative 2023-2028 UPS Teamsters National Master Agreement include:

Historic wage increases. Existing full- and part-time UPS Teamsters will get $2.75 more per hour in 2023, and $7.50 more per hour over the length of the contract.

Existing part-timers will be raised up to no less than $21 per hour immediately, and part-time seniority workers earning more under a market rate adjustment would still receive all new general wage increases.

Wage increases for full-timers will keep UPS Teamsters the highest paid delivery drivers in the nation, improving their average top rate to $49 per hour.

New part-time hires at UPS would start at $21 per hour and advance to $23 per hour.

All UPS Teamster drivers classified as 22.4s would be reclassified immediately to Regular Package Car Drivers and placed into seniority, ending the unfair two-tier wage system at UPS.

Safety and health protections, including vehicle air conditioning and cargo ventilation. UPS will equip in-cab A/C in all larger delivery vehicles, sprinter vans, and package cars purchased after Jan. 1, 2024. All cars get two fans and air induction vents in the cargo compartments.

All UPS Teamsters would receive Martin Luther King Day as a full holiday for the first time.

No more forced overtime on Teamster drivers’ days off. Drivers would keep one of two workweek schedules and could not be forced into overtime on scheduled off-days.

UPS Teamster part-timers will have priority to perform all seasonal support work using their own vehicles with a locked-in eight-hour guarantee. For the first time, seasonal work will be contained to five weeks only from November-December.

On July 31, representatives ... will meet to review and recommend the tentative agreement. All UPS rank-and-file members will receive a list of improvements in the contract. ... Member voting begins August 3 and concludes August 22.

The UPS Teamsters National Master Agreement is the single largest private-sector collective bargaining agreement in North America.]

Check the article for the full list; but ho ho holy shit.

This is huge. It shows the collective bargaining WORKS. The Teamsters sent a message to UPS and this win will send a message to Corporate America that unions can WIN for rank-and-file workers!!!

[haztory]

october 17th ♡

– ceo!kuroo tetsurou x assistant!reader; timeskip au, slow burn, mutual pining

– summary: It’s October 17th. The day of which you can never get a semblance of peace. It’s the start of volleyball season.

part one

a/n: i saw the hq movie and remembered my roots. it's kuroo time. love that man. (w.c.: 6.4k)

It’s October 17th, your desk calendar tells you. 

Marked in a quick circle in bold red pen for emphasis. Not like you could forget it, what with the building buzz that seems to escalate with every hour and the excited greetings bubbling in the office. And certainly you couldn’t forget the date with your boss reminding you of it every single chance he could get.

It’s October 17th. The day of which you can never get a semblance of peace. It’s the start of volleyball season. There’s a tally sheet in your mind that holds eight marks— one for every time he’s mentioned the damn day— and it’s not even time for your second cup of coffee. 

The most wonderful time of the year, according to Kuroo. 

There’s a pep in his step as he juggles his briefcase and files between hands and skips towards his third meeting of the day. His phone is tucked between his ear and shoulder, swarmed in the air of chaos and yet, there’s a wide smile on his face. Toothy and eager, almost maniacal. An exhilarated man, the ringmaster of madness, preparing a show for thousands with only coffee and sheer enthusiasm running through his veins. 

The tiles beneath his feet practically turn golden as he passes by. 

He stops before your desk on his way out, phone dutifully tucked yet ignored as he meets your gaze with burning excitement. The chatter on the other end of the line is audible, and he really should be listening to it, but instead his focus is maintained on you. You raise a brow in question, fingers hovering over the keyboard to your computer and e-mail to the finance department woefully on hold as your boss stares at you. 

Tufts of his hair are pulled in various ways, the standard for a busy morning, and the sleeves of his white button down are rolled up to his elbows displaying the veins that no doubt pulse excitedly; But the most revealing part of him, the most captivating part in his day of havoc, are his eyes. 

Honey auburn that burns alight in sheer joy— the kind of happiness that he wants you to revel in, hopes to convey in the intensity of his gaze. Sticky honey brown that coats the inside of your stomach and fills you with warmth. A gleam that can make flowers bloom with just his simple gaze.  

Slowly, he points his finger towards your calendar that’s displayed clearly for the regular passerby. Fingertip presses the red circle on the paper, emphasizing the words scribbled inside of it detailing the events of the day. 

1st Day of Volleyball Season!

His smile splits his face into two. You add another tally to the sheet.  

Indulging him with a grin would be encouraging juvenile behavior, so it takes everything in you to bite back the tugging of your lips and instead roll your eyes. It doesn’t deter him. He all but clicks his heels together as he prances out the door, throwing his fist holding his briefcase in the air with a silent cheer, and answering whatever question was posed to him on the other end of his line.

It’s October 17th, Kuroo’s favorite day of the year. 

Yours, too. 

Although, you would never tell him that.

-

The starting game of MSBY vs. Tachibana Red Falcons is a match predicted to be vicious and brutal. Considering Japan’s top players had more than proved themselves to be powerhouses during the Nations League Tournament over the summer, the star power and media attention given to the players has given the entrance game to the season an anticipation that could not be tamed— not that anyone in the marketing department would want it to be. 

The players this year have been nothing short of top tier athleticism— a detail that so graciously fell into the JVA’s hands and became their capitalized advertisement. 

An unmatched season! A trial of power and speed! Japan’s best players go head-to-head in the best playoffs Japan has ever seen!

Kuroo practically played the lottery every morning with luck like this. 

The Ariake Arena fills up like a lightning flood, waves of bodies decorated with black and red filling seats with heightened excitement. It vibrates throughout the stadium, transcends beyond the high beams and open space. It fills and suffocates until all that can be seen, heard, and felt is pure, unadulterated energy. It’s a straight shot of adrenaline to the heart. It’s the taste of a sweet memory. 

The sound of excitement from guests and vendors steadily rises and Kuroo buzzes in place. His shoes tap incessantly on the wooden floor, fingers flutter with anticipation as he adjusts, then readjusts, the now wrinkled tie across his neck. His cheeks ache from the endless smile that pushes on them. 

Carefully moved chess pieces, endless phone calls, and retina-burning contracts with sponsors have finally gotten him here: To the sweet smell of cool conditioned air and freshly waxed floors, to the sounds of chants and joy, to the sight of his successfully pitched logo printed beneath Miya Atsumu’s smug face on the large banner tacked on the left side of the arena. The veneration on his face is one that finds itself familiar to veterans. Standing on the shining hardwood of the court, his hands finally find rest on his hips, his gaze stilling at the sight of his months-long work. 

Pride doesn’t really do much justice to the feelings inside of him— but damn if it isn’t a close enough guess. His hard work finally actualized, but it’s only just really beginning. This is where his fun begins, the shining light, the gentle reminder of how much he loves his job.

October 17th, the best day of the year.

“We need to see the players before warm-ups begin.” Kuroo says after a moment, not even needing to spare a glance backwards to see if you’ve heard him. Such is the consequence of having a good assistant, one that, even with all the eye rolls and dragging sighs, is always a step ahead of him.

“Coach Foster said that he could spare us ten minutes before he gives his locker room speech. Coach Sato said the same.” You tell your boss, stepping beside him as his eyes follow the movements of staff members dragging carts of volleyballs to their respective places. An approving look settles on his face, a delightful perusal.

There's a tablet held in your arms as you notate on a timetable, presumably a schedule with detailed notes that Kuroo has to be on in order for the evening to go well. Probably one you've put a lot of time and effort into. Knowing you, it’s probably color coded. A schedule that he would do well by both you and the company in abiding by.

He shoves his hand between the tablet and your fixed stare, wiggling his fingers obnoxiously in front of the work that holds your dutiful attention. "Stop paying attention to that and look around you. Smell the air! What is it you smell?"

The excitement held so passionately in his eyes bore into your unimpressed ones. "Stale popcorn and lemon cleaner, Kuroo-san."

"So negative, I think the long work days are finally getting to you."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine. You love me too much to quit." He grins. He gestures his hand outward, panning it across the stadium to the sight of guests filling the seats. "It's the smell of anticipation! The promise of a worthwhile game! How can you not be excited?”

A ping resounds on your tablet that draws your gaze back down to the schedule. It’s a message from the volunteer coordinator. You write a note in the margin—volunteers in break room at 8:45, give thanks and gifts at 9.

"It’s hard to be excited when you keep yapping in my ear about what day it is." You mutter distractedly.

"You're telling me," Suddenly his fingers are poking into the skin of your cheeks, lifting the skin upward in a manufactured smile, "You look frightening." 

You swat his hands away, your own palms connecting with his in a vicious slap. "If we don't get started now you're going to be late in meeting the President of the JVA at his box seats." 

Kuroo waves his hand nonchalantly. "Ah, he'll wait for me. I am the reason we’ve got a turnout like this. It's the least he could do."

You roll your eyes, formality lost as you address your boss. "It's about the principle of it, Tetsu. He'll be upset."

"Have you forgotten what day it is? How can anyone be upset on this day?"

You stare at him in violent silence clearly exposing the extent of your disdain for him at this moment. It’s a futile endeavor. Your stare only fuels the fire of his need for provocation tenfold. His smile widens, teeth bearing a shit-eating grin. With little remorse, you tell him, "You're very annoying when you're happy."

His head tilts backward in a laugh, lean and tall figure elongating with the motion as he, genuinely, finds himself amused. “And you're even meaner than usual when I am. C’mon, let’s pay the Jackals a visit.” Accompanying the turn of his body, he taps the tip of your nose with his slender finger and begins a trek towards the main entrance leading to the corridors of the arena.

“No.” Your quick retort is the popping of a balloon. He deflates, hands thrown upward in exasperation as he turns around to face you once more. You swear he stomps his feet. 

"God, what now?"

“Favoritism.”

He balks with a furrow on his brow, “Pardon?”

“Favoritism. It’s obvious to everyone in this building who you’re rooting for, so we need to minimize those details before someone catches wind and decides to tell the press that the games are rigged.”

“Now, that is an outrageous idea. No respectable reporter would use my words against me.” Kuroo smiles, annoyingly, confidently. To which your stare only digs further into him, the infamous memory of last year’s season playing quite clearly across your face in which his sarcastic comment about players salaries made headlines and resulted in a week of endless phone calls to your office.

“JVA DIRECTOR STATES DIV. ONE PLAYERS WILL NOT RECEIVE SPONSORSHIP BONUSES AFTER ASTOUNDING SEASON AS ‘WE DON’T PAY FOR MEDIOCRITY AND THESE PLAYERS SUCK, OBVIOUSLY’.”

It’s the conveyance of death in your eyes alone that really gets him going. Truly, there’s no one more impressive than you. 

“I said, respectable.” Kuroo emphasizes, hardly batting an eye as you walk past him. 

“C’mon. Coach Sato is waiting with the Falcons.”

“The favoritism allegation is ridiculous. Ask around the office, no one is able to tell that you’re my least favorite of them all.” He follows you into the hallway without prompting like the well-trained dog you’ve made him to be, “That’s how good I am.”

You turn back to look at him, “Oh, sure. So the names Bokuto and Hinata don’t mean anything to you?”

Biting back a smirk, he says, “I have no idea who you’re referring to.”

—

In the aftermath of a worthwhile game and an impressive start to the season, the stadium quickly finds itself abandoned. Scores of people taking to the street to celebrate their win or drink their sorrows away, their raucous din and lived delight exiting with them, leaving only a barren arena—save for the remaining staff who dutifully tidy the empty aisles and clean the floors. Yet, even with their humble presence, it’s quiet. Only the light echoing of shoes and brooms on the floor, the rolling of carts, the sounds of vacuums filling the space and providing life. 

And standing on the second floor of the arena, leaning his body against the railing overlooking the court, Kuroo finally gets a second to just look.

There are very few times in which Kuroo is quiet. Or rather, there are very few times where he gets the chance to be. 

It’s hard to walk the line between professional and man, not that he does a good job at it on a regular day. It's an all-consuming persona and his job demands the full devotion of mind, body, and spirit despite the relative nonurgency that comes with being a Marketing Director. And while he’s never been known for his outstanding polish as a young professional— particularly within the confines of his office— Kuroo has never not been one to commit. What is demanded of him is what he gives, and more. 

These days he’s finding it almost impossible to switch the hat of boss for the one of man. The lines between the two become even more blurred with each passing day that he spends another sleepless night in the office, attends another soul sucking meeting that could have truly just been an email, brown noses at people with titles and credentials that he cannot bear to remember for the sake of money. 

Humanity slowly depletes when met with the four walls of an office that never changes shades.  Moments like this are brief allowances. The empty stadium is conducive to the quick slip into a memory, the removal of the permanent hat for the other one. 

The game played not even an hour ago is replaced with that of what he remembers.  The once erratic beat of his heart before the blown whistle, the feel of burning muscles in his calves, and the sting of the ball on his skin; He can almost taste the salt of the disappointment of a lost match, and the sweetness of the joy the game gave him. If he tries, Kuroo can recall the last time that he was on a court just like the one before him and remember just how wonderful it once was.

The sweet memory of it all. A sliver of happiness that he keeps stowed away in the back of his mind, meant only to be pulled out in times of emergency. When life gets too loud and work becomes exactly what it is—work. It’s the needed reprieve, the gentle vice. But much like everything else these days, it lasts for only a lingering moment before it fades into the nothingness of everything else. 

There isn’t one particular thought that he can train on. He couldn’t even tell anyone what exactly it is that he thinks about, for it all blends together into the great variation of everything. A hectic whirlwind of things that fall over one another as they fight to take his attention. 

The game schedule for tomorrow, the invoices he needs to have approved, the mountain of unread emails relating to a media sponsorship that needs to be finalized by the end of the month, the leadership training that he needs to attend next week. Seeing Bokuto and Hinata before the game was a slip of the hat into the relative calm of youth that he remembers so fondly, he should probably try and hang out with them more. His social life is already pitiful. There’s also the fact that he has to go grocery shopping since he just ran out of instant noodles, unless he wants to have takeout again—but he’s already racked up quite the bill this month in takeout alone and he hasn’t been able to go to the gym enough to counteract those great decisions. He needs to return his sister’s phone call, something he keeps prolonging, not because he doesn’t care to know the details about his nephew’s birthday party next Sunday but rather because that will inevitably lead to the discussion about their father’s well-being and truthfully, that’s not a can of worms he’s willing to open just yet. And also—

“Hey.”

Kuroo’s head snaps towards the intrusion, towards the voice that cuts through the storm of flying thoughts and stills them in their rampage. 

You stand behind him, your blazer thrown over your purse and the sleeves of your dress shirt rolled up to your elbows. Your hair is no longer the neat style you had at the beginning of the event, but instead the reflection of a long work day. Your own work hat stowed somewhere deep in your purse, in favor of someone he’s rather fond of. 

“Hey.” He returns, surprised but pleased. He had figured at the end of the game you would have made haste with the exiting crowd. Your duties done for the day, the schedule you made him stick to like glue finished and completed. Any other person would have run for the doors and be home by now. 

But, here you are. Standing with a content smile on your face and a softening in your eyes as you meet his gaze. (Truthfully, he should know better. You’ve never been one to just leave without telling him, whether directly or through email, for home or for a date. Hell, you all but yell your plans in his face just to reduce the risk of confusion. But he assumes, still, that you’re smarter than him. That you know when to call it quits on a work day and head home. 

He conveniently forgets that, above all, you’re good at your job. You never listen, too stubborn and insistent on doing your duties even when he tells you to go home early; to not worry about the final details on a draft or a missed message; tells you that he can handle it. That’s never been you, because aside from being fantastic at being his assistant, you’ve been committed to your craft no matter what it is. You care too much about your job and the things it affects. 

Because that’s who you are. It’s who you’ve always been. It’s what he knows to be true and violent about you, and it's what he’s been able to see blossom since working with you. So, of course you’re here. Waiting for him, because that’s what you do. Commit to being there for him, through and through. 

Because you’re his assistant, of course. 

Just his assistant. That’s all.)

He stands straighter, manners not entirely drilled out of his subconscious, even if he was distracted. A beat passes, he looking at you and you looking at him, before he, finally, extends a hand— inviting you to join him. You do, settling next to him on the rail, and gazing over the object of his fixation. 

It’s a content silence. The inhale of the aftermath, the exhale of the preparation. One you both know the extent of, have shared too many late nights for. There’s great relief in being able to revel in the fruits of one’s labor, but there’s something all the more satisfying in knowing someone else was basking in that reward too. In not being entirely alone, despite the job often making him feel.

This is your moment just as much as it is his, something he’s never been more convinced of. 

Much of the success belonging to him would be nothing if not for your firm foundation, the depth of your support for not only him, but the game. The wondrous, joyous game. 

 It’s only a moment or two of the stillness between you two before you gently disturb it. 

“Today went well.” You tell him. 

He gives an affirmative hum, a small smile befalling on his face. Folding his arms across his chest, he tilts his head from side to side in consideration. “You don’t think the banner was too big?”

“It’s no bigger than it usually is.” You shrug and he hums again. 

Another beat, then he says, “Did you notice the photo?”

“On the banner?” You ask. 

“Yeah.”

“I did.”

“Good.” He says, resolutely, looking over the arena once more as two staff members begin folding up the commentators chairs on the sidelines of the court, “You chose it.”

“I know.” You say. He smiles again, a happy and content one; and you would tease him about it— (about the fact that he’s smiling as though this were a great victory fought between the marketing department and the photography studio, one that he emerged victorious in fighting tooth and nail for your input instead of the reality of the situation. 

It was a cloudlink sent to his email on a Tuesday afternoon, filled with prints of various D1 players that he was asked to provide input on. A task that he, then, delegated to you by calling you into his office on your lunch break and having you play eenie-meenie-miny-moe with him. With a sandwich held firmly in your hand and Kuroo pecking at his snack bag of trail mix, you point to the smug face of Miya Atsumu.

“It’s because of the smile, right?” He had asked, his eyes squinting and head tilted to the side as though that would give him better understanding of the man’s face. “He’s a great player. He just has the look of a winner.”

“I don’t know. I just think he’s hot.” You tell him simply.

Kuroo chokes on a peanut. You laugh. He sends your choice over to the graphic design team.)

—but you let him have the small win. Four years of working together has taught you which of the battles to fight, and truthfully, there aren’t that many that you don’t give to him. Admitting sucha  thing, however, would be a violation of everything you hold dear to your job so you obviously omit that. 

Kuroo speaks once more, his voice soft as he continues to regard the court. “You did a good job today.”

There’s no tease in him, no wry smile or setup for a joke that you’re clearly walking into. For all intents and purposes, Kuroo Testurou stands before you as a man with more than his guard down. He stands honestly, made soft and tender by the trials of a hard work day and the victory of his labor. 

The kind of man you know him to be, that you hold such deep admiration for. 

“Thank you, Tetsu.” For fear of disrupting the quiet that surrounds the arena or fear of shattering the genuineness of the moment, you respond in kind. Equally gentle when you tell him earnestly, honestly, “So did you, but that’s not new.”

You feel it before you can even see or hear it. The turning of the tide, the impending slant of his smile; The red alert alarm that you have built into your head for Tetsurou’s moments of snarkiness blaring loudly. 

The taunt is on its way and you begin a rebuttal before he even opens his mouth. Kuroo’s face contorts into an exaggerated look of disbelief.

“We were having—”

“I cannot believe it—” 

“—a nice moment!”

“—Is that a compliment I hear?”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your head away from him. “If you’re going to act like that—”

“No, no! Can’t take it back. You said it already.” 

“Nope. I formally recant my statement—”

“Ooh, big word—”

“—I forswear what I said—”

“—Forswear?! How do you even know what that means?”

“—You did an adequate job. Actually, you did exactly what was expected of you. Nothing more.”

“C’mon, give me some credit. You weren’t expecting me to land that invite for that GQ party next month. And how did I do that? Remind me one more time?” Kuroo leans his head towards you, tapping his ear repeatedly. 

“By doing your job.” You insist and he throws his head to the side in hurt.

“By being the best at my job.”

“They invited you because you were badgering them in the box seats. What did you bribe them with?”

He levels a steady smirk at you, “Sounds like someone doesn’t want to go.”

You gasp, eyes narrowing, “You wouldn’t.”

“Admit it, then.” He grins.

“Admit what! That I kept you on schedule for the day so that you could actually do your job and get us the invites? Then I will admit that I did my job excellently.” You poke your finger into his chest repeatedly and he laughs.

He agrees with a small nod of his head, smiling widely, knowingly. “You did.” 

“I did.” You affirm. “And with enough time to factor in potty breaks. Plural.”

Kuroo laughs again, incredulously, “Potty. Who even says that anymore?”

“Me. Your lovely, amazing assistant that you are definitely taking to the GQ party.”

Kuroo’s gaze fixes on yours, held firmly as the grin lingering so resolutely on his face reaches up to his eyes. The conversation peters out into another gentle silence, ambers meeting yours in a steady embrace, and voicing what remains to be said. Held tightly by the reciprocity of your own gaze.

It happens, then. The quiet kindling that has become so familiar between he and you. The settling of a warmth between the space that has been occurring more frequently; Found only in times like this. When laughter dissipates and ease takes over. When it becomes glaringly obvious that you enjoy your boss’s company a little more than you probably should, and that he doesn’t necessarily mind you all that much. There isn’t much to say about it even though your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and fiction dictates that this is the moment where someone should say something.

But what is there to say at this moment to the man who signs your paychecks? Who eggs you on in ways that no one would even bother to do? What could you express other than profound admiration and deep annoyances over his character? What could you tell him that he doesn’t already know? 

(Maybe the truth that is buried deep within you. One that you haven’t admitted to yourself because honestly, you aren’t even sure you believe it yourself.

There’s bound to be affections shared between two people who work in such close proximity as you two. Regard, appreciation, fondness— but not that. No, it couldn’t be that. That would be ridiculous.

Because he’s your boss, of course. 

Just your boss. That’s all.) 

“You should go home,” Tetsurou is the first to break the stare. Fortunately, too, lest you become too absorbed in your thoughts and do something stupid like risking getting lost in the eyes of amber. He turns his attention to his hands on the railing, his thumb tapping repeatedly on the metal. “Get some rest. You deserve it, keeping me in line and all.”

He bumps his shoulder into yours. 

“Are you heading home soon?” You ask.

He shrugs, before looking to the court once more. “In a minute.  I’m going to stay for a little longer. Not ready to go home yet.”

You hum, “Then I’ll stay with you.”

There’s a beat of silence, one that, when you glance towards him you expect to see filled with amusement. Maybe a tease on his tongue once more about how hard you work, about how miserable you’ll be in the morning for staying up past your bedtime. Instead, you see only the calm stillness of his face, eyes fixed resolutely on the empty court before him. 

He leans forward onto the railing, bracing his elbows against its fixture, watching the scene below him as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. Four janitors taking a break from their waxing of the floor to play a quick, and sloppy, game of volleyball. Soft laughter echoes throughout the room, broken apart by low mutterings of commentary on their plays that sends the four older men into even further laughter. 

Then, “Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I went pro.”

To learn of other people in the course of a years-long friendship is natural, rightfully expected— and while there is much of Kuroo that you do know and can recite off the top of your head, the willful admittance of intimate details, especially in quiet times like this, is always surprising. Especially when coupled with the contemplative silence that follows his words, the genuine wonder, the longing written on his face as the rose thoughts of a first love bloom in the cracks of a fallen smile. 

In the softening of his eyes and the deep sigh that he releases, you realize that there’s a Kuroo Tetsurou that you don’t know. 

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, you reach out to find him. You ask, softly. “Why did you stop playing?”

His eyes remain trained on the court, as though the answer were laid upon the hardwood floors. “It was time. I loved the game but, I don’t know. Just didn’t make sense for me to keep it going. There were other things I needed to do, and playing professionally would have taken up too much time.” 

You can almost see it, then. A younger Tetsurou, even more chaotic and rowdy than you know him to be, with hopes and dreams that exist somewhere in the great web of could have been’s, cast to the side because of the “other things”. You don’t pry, not when he’s already being so forthcoming as it is, but you make a note. Store it away in the folder lodged deep in your mind dedicated to the man.

“Would you be happier if you did?” You ask, albeit hesitantly. Not entirely sure what you would do with the answer.

He rolls his broad shoulders gently, like a tide rolling in under itself, swayed under its own pressure and maybe that should mean something. “Well, it’s not like I’m unhappy. I’ve got a good life, good job, good people. I’ve got it all.” 

He spares a quick glance to you. So quick you wouldn’t have caught it had he not already been the centerpoint of your fixed stare, but truthfully, when is he not? When is he not the center of your gaze, your life, your world? Everything in your routine seems to start and end with Kuroo Tetsurou.

“But I can’t deny how much I miss the game.”

—you don’t mind all that much. Especially not when he’s like this. Open, sensitive, and wanting to talk. When he actually takes the time to chew his thoughts out and speak them into existence rather than continue his sordid and pointed teases.

You lean forward onto the railing. “Do you think you would have made it far?” 

He adjusts his figure next to yours. His crooked elbow touches yours, but he makes no move to remove it. “Well… I hate to brag, but…” 

You scoff. “You do.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to say.” He shrugs his shoulders wryly. “In another life, I’m still playing.” 

It sounds sadder than he intends it to be, but it’s the truth. And you get it; have your own could-have’s stored deep in the recesses of your mind, your own forgotten dreams about who you wanted to be that haunt and plague in the twilight of hard nights where sleep is elusive and quarter-life crises spring forth in the darkness—but it’s not all bad.

“Well, in this other life, if you’re playing and I just so happened to know you,” You tell him, “I would be your biggest fan.”

He huffs at that. Looking at you with a tilt of his head and a handsome smile on his face. “Oh yeah? And if you didn’t?”

“I’d be Miya Atsumu’s biggest fan.” You say simply.

“You already are.”

“Yeah, but I know you have jealousy issues so I just don’t say anything about it.”

Tetsurou nods his head. Amused. “Well I’m glad to know you, then.”

It happens here, again. 

The quiet kindling, the lingering warmth. With hopes and dreams laid out before you, and the brief allowance into the depths of his intimate details he holds tightly under the weight of himself, do you find the familiarity of the man again. The one you know, the one who laughed so hard at your banana costume that milk came out of his nose. The one who canceled all of his meetings for the day when you broke your pinky finger in the office and who stayed with you in the hospital until a cast was put on. 

The one who smiles at you so gently, as if you are someone important. The one you can’t help but smile right back at. Kuroo Tetsurou, your boss, a friend.

Movement in the corner of your eye draws your attention to the court. The janitors that were once playing amongst each other slowly begin to stray from the court, picking up their brooms and exiting towards the sidelines. Looking at Tetsurou, you find that he’s still looking at you.

“They’re not closing the stadium for another hour. And it looks like the janitors have had their fun.” You say, “Wanna play a quick game?”

His brows raise to his hairline, “You know how to play?”

“We had to choose a sport to play for gym class back in high school and it was either tennis or volleyball. So I guess you can say I know a thing or two.”

“Ah, a professional.”

“Mhm. I’m here to give you a run for your money.”

Tetsurou pushes himself off the railing, standing to his full height as he accepts the offer. Towering over you at his 6’5 height, he begins rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, cuffing the white material until it reaches the crook of his elbow. A quick glance to the revealed skin is only a firm reminder of what you had pointedly forgotten. Long slender fingers attached to a thick and veiny forearm, sculpted through years of volleyball practice and continued exercise.

If he wanted to, he definitely could have made it professionally. You almost choke on your spit.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Tetsurou gives you a smile that rivals the smugness of Miya Atsumu in that stupid banner and you know for a fact that in that other life, you would’ve been Kuroo Tetsurou’s biggest fan whether you knew him or not— and not because he was a good player. 

—

“You need to lock your elbows.”

“They’re locked!”

“No they’re not. Look at this,” Tetsurou steps underneath the net, approaching you in long strides before tapping his fingers against the elbows of your interlocked hands. He watches with little impression as your arms swing easily with his force, “Noodles. How are you supposed to receive with this?”

“I’m trying but it’s not comfortable!”

“So you’d rather suck?”

“Kinky.” You say with a waggle of your brows and he rolls his eyes.

“Stop it. Here, you need to—” Without a second thought, he steps behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and fixing your hands. wrapping your right hand over your left and running the length of his warm touch down your forearms. Innocuous and gentle, but stiffening as you breathe in the musky scent of his cologne and the faded scent of his aftershave, and feel the hard planes of his chest press against your back. 

“Straighten your elbows,” He mutters, voice heavy beside your ear.  “And keep them locked. Helps you to have a steady receive for any kind of ball. If your form is perfect then you can always pass the ball using this part, here.” His right index finger touches the surface of your forearm, running between the length of your elbow and wrist to accentuate his point. 

It isn’t a matter of fireworks when he touches you, the exploding kind that has butterflies and goosebumps erupting over the expanse of your skin. It isn’t as though your eyes have suddenly been peeled open and the realization has struck you hard across the face like every romance story that preaches about the magic of the first touch, the electricity of meeting hands across the table, the sudden realization of knowing.

No, this is entirely different. A comforting touch, not uncommon, but intimate and while it doesn’t have you reeling in revolutionary realization, nor does it have you fanning yourself from the flames of sudden desire, his touch does, eerily, have you sinking in further. There’s no fluttering and flustering with the confusion of flooding feelings, but rather, it has you looking at his hands with a slight furrow. 

Wondering, when his hands suddenly got so soft, yet so firm. Wondering, in what part of the intertwining of his life with yours did his touch suddenly not only become okay, but felt as though it belonged? 

Were this any other man, you would have a harassment claim sent to HR before he could even get near you. But it’s Tetsurou; And when his slender fingers wrap gently around your wrist, turning them upward slightly, you don’t go rigid in his embrace, but instead fall into it. Settle into his grasp, entrust yourself in his hands. 

Because how could you not?

“Like this?” You ask, quietly. No need to exert volume considering he’s right next to you. In search of approval in how you’ve adjusted your hands, you turn your head to the side to look at him, only to realize how close he is to you. Eyes able to see the steady pulse of the clench in his jaw as he focuses on your form, the sharp angle of his jaw, the closely shaven hairs of his stubble.

“Yeah, just like that. Good.” He answers, before removing his hands and bracing them against your shoulders, straightening your posture for the receives that you are no longer focused on getting.

If Kuroo Tetsurou turned his head to you, there would be nothing stopping his nose from bumping into yours. You must be silent, too caught up in the overwhelming nature of it all because he’s suddenly stiffening from his position over you. Then, at a speed you’ve never seen him move before, he’s rescinding his body entirely from you. And it should sting. The speed at which your boss acted as though you physically burned him, his body essentially repulsed from touching you. 

He’s putting great space between you two as he ducks back under the net to his side of the court, yelling over his shoulder, “T-that should fix it. Try, uh, try now. Try serving.”

“I thought I was receiving?” You ask his retreating figure and he stills, considering for a moment, before waving his hand in the air— obviously embarrassed and confused at the fact that he’s just jeopardized everything and made his assistant uncomfortable. 

“Whatever, just give it back to me.” He says, frustratedly.

And you allow yourself, just for a brief moment, to store another could-have in the sanctity of your fantasies. One where he isn’t your boss, and you aren’t his assistant, and you are able to admit to the true and honest parts of yourself—

“Nice return! See? Better already.”

—you rather liked the way he touched you.  

a/n: HEEEEELP i love him your honor. sorry for always ghosting. i wish i could say i wont, but i know i will. lol

[the-last-hipopotamovolador]

In fionna and cake season 2 i want simon to slowly get better and help finn with the loss of jake, i want them to build a dad-son relationship which would be the best because you know they started as "enemies" and ending like family would be top tier development and because that would indirectly imply marcy-finn sibling relationship that would be great because

1) it is what they are meant to be. I mean just look at them

And 2) that would make the whole finn's past crush on bonnie more weird and funny lol.

[landomeowrris]

hear me out: aftg x f1 au

the season starts with kevin and seth as the mclaren drivers, with neil going as the reserve driver. kevin manages to always drag that shitty car up to the points every race, despite having a healing broken hand and drinking himself into oblivion. seth, though, is always in the back of the grid, usually crashing and dnf'ing his races.

the rest of the foxes are mechanics and strategists, with wymack being their team principal. andrew is kevin's engineer and matt is seth's (eventually becoming neil's after seth dies and neil takes his seat). dan and allison are their lead strategists, with renee and aaron as backup. nicky handles their social media accounts.

the ravens are red bull, having the fastest car, best drivers, only top tier mechanics, engineers, all that. riko and kevin were always on top, sending the team hundreds of points ahead each season. when kevin broke his hand, jean got the seat.

(i'll keep going under the cut now lmfao)

kevin has won a lot of races, but never a championship. no, he couldn't be better than riko. riko is a four time world champion, both him and kevin being in the category since they were 18. the same thing happens: the media starts to wonder if kevin isn't actually better than riko, pitting them against each other and somehow roping them into a "friendly" race off between each other. kevin was winning, but he ended up giving riko the lead, afraid of what was going to happen to him if he didn't, but of course, the media also noticed that and the rumors grew stronger. end of the year driver's party, riko and kevin on their ""ski trip"", the whole ordeal with kevin moving to the foxes after.

now, neil. neil quickly rose up from the regional formulas, to F3 and to F2, managing to keep himself on the back of the grid, trying not to draw too much attention. he didn't give interviews, never stuck around after races, never participated in a lot of media content. but of course, kevin noticed. in a particular race where neil had to start from p22, kevin watched as neil overtook just enough to be in the points, finishing p7. he could see that neil was holding back, could see neil doing nothing to overtake the car in front. and that's when he begged for wymack to sign neil to mclaren.

the rest would go on like the books, obvi adjusting to the situation, but it's an au i think about a lot, even if i don't really have the motivation (or the skills) to write it

[shaunamilfman]

Domestic Shauna Headcanons

pairing: shauna shipman x reader note: no crash au for sure. she's in her 20's.

Shauna's always going to be a writer in my mind. Journalist to pay the bills, but her real passion is in her poetry books that don't sell. eventually tries writing fiction and it really takes off, but she's still kind of bummed about the poetry. 

complains about you being clingy to Jackie, but is genuinely so upset if you aren't home to greet her at the door. (she's the clingy one) 

just know she comes home after a long day and just lies on top of you. every time you try to speak she just bites at whatever skin she can reach till you take the hint. 

loves when you read aloud to her, especially if she's tired or stressed. just wants to drift off to the sound of your voice without the worry of having to respond to it. 

her perfect day ends with her head in your lap as you play with her hair and read from whatever book you've been making your way through. doesn't even ask, just flops in your lap and moves you around. you know just what she wants. 

Shauna won't let you out of bed because she's being clingy and then eventually glances at the clock and blames you for almost making her late for work. acting like she wasn't practically wrestling you to keep you in bed 

space heater shauna keeps the place so cold or else she won't be able to sleep. she will wake up and turn it down a few degrees if you got into a fight. keeps it extra cold so you cuddle into her. 

Shauna can definitely cook, but won't if you're willing to do it instead. it's for the best, because she definitely doesn't season anything. cannot handle spice at all. convinced she'd start coughing at a single flake of red pepper. 

offers to help you cook (feels you up while insisting she's helping you chop) 

so good at making breakfast foods somehow?? god tier.

tries to talk you into the ugliest fucking house decor you’ve ever seen. she absolutely loves it, but it fr should’ve been lit on fire to save anyone from ever having to look at it

Shauna and affectionately biting and being bitten. Just biting down and holding while you're cuddling. she doesn't care who's doing it, but the whole thing is so much better if one of you is. 

doesn’t mind doing the laundry, but hates washing dishes.

convinced she can't resist the urge to bite if you get close enough to her mouth. touch her face and she's nipping at your fingertips. playfully snaps her jaw at you but will fr bite you if you get too close. 

she's always leaving you with some kind of hickey somewhere. she can't fully resist the urge. she's just a girl.

leaves little notes for you around the house. sometimes they’re sweet, but most of the time they’re just reminders not to forget to do whatever thing you promised her you’d get to sometime this week (she wants it done now).

insists she doesn’t need the instructions to put anything together until she’s totally fucking lost and it won’t even stand up straight. complains that it was definitely a manufacturer's error, and that’s why it doesn’t look right. (she forgot three screws. you have to fix it the next time you’re home and she’s not.)

doesn’t want to get a pet, and yet still manages to be the pet’s favorite. she goes from “no way in hell it’s sleeping on our bed” to “but she’s tired” in a week's time.

loves to sit in the same room as you and do different things. Shauna wants to spend all her time with you, but doesn't necessarily feel like talking to you. sitting on the couch next to you doing her thing while you're doing yours is like heaven to her. 

not a morning person at all. she has to wake up and leave the comfort of your bed? not a fan. she's all messy hair and broodiness. just know that Shauna wakes up like with her pant leg riding up ridiculously high, socks came off, shirt twisted around her body

she looks fucking ridiculous as she stomps her way into the bathroom to get ready. drags her feet the whole time but somehow always manages to leave on time

Shauna hates the taste of coffee but forces herself to drink it for the aesthetic. another reason she hates mornings. 

still fiercely protective of her journal, but sometimes you'll catch her rereading old ones with a small smile on her face. occasionally she'll reread you something sweet she wrote about you when you first started dating, heavily editing the parts where she may have been a bit of a hater. 

she's still so jealous and possessive, but she's trying to work past her desire to be immediately confrontational about it. it's not working all that well. 

absolutely adores seeing you in her clothes. it’s a bit of a cheat code, though. how can she be mad at you when you’re wearing her flannel and looking sad? (she’ll give it a valiant effort)

super passive aggressive whenever you're talking to someone new/someone more than usual. 

refuses to call a repairman for anything before she takes a try at fixing it (makes it worse 99% of the time).

Shauna visibly holding herself back from talking shit about whatever you're watching together, but the second you comment something slightly negative about it the flood gates open. she’s so happy being a hater with you.

you get into so many spats about the dumbest shit just because Shauna has trouble with her temper. she’s quick to apologize for small things, usually through actions instead of words, though.

always the one checking to make sure all the doors are locked, nothing is messed up, etc. walks you out to your car if you have to leave really early or really late.

reluctantly kills the bugs, but not without a shit ton of complaints and yelling whenever it moves. Shauna feigned stoicism about it when you first got together, but doesn't bother to pretend that spiders don't freak her the fuck out anymore. 

she’s secretly quite the romantic, but would get so mad at you if you brought it up in front of anyone else. she’ll take you on the most thoughtful dates and write you the sweetest notes, but will pretend it never happened in front of your company. unless she’s jealous of them, then you better bring it up before she does because they need to know how good you have it.

[thelibrarian1895]

Gotham Rich People

So there are other millionaires and billionaires in Gotham besides Bruce Wayne.

I'll wait for you to get over the shock.

You good? Ok

There are other stupidly rich people in Gotham. A thought that if you've really made it in stupidly rich society in the dc verse then you have to have some property in Gotham where you stay for like a month or so every year like it's the regency society season. It's a sign that you're so ridiculously rich that it doesn't matter if someone steals your priceless painting or holds you for ransom because you can afford it and still be ridiculously rich. You are rich enough that your bodyguards are so skilled that they can keep you safe in Gotham. Because people are stupid and people who are rich and want to be snobs about it and show off tend to be a little more so than not.

Ridiculously rich seasonal Gothamites will also absolutely think that being kidnapped and held for ransom by one crime family or another or a rogue shows a different level of quality and status. Because they are just that bored and just that rich. And it lets them deal with the ✨trauma✨ ala gallows humor.

Lex Luthor has a bunch of snobby rich people look down their noses at him because he doesn't have Gotham property (Bruce keeps outbidding him when he tries and then Tim does the same when Bruce is busy because neither want Luthor in their city though sometimes people just won't sell if they find out it's Luthor trying to buy the property because they don't want him in the city either) and while he's rich enough to make mechs to go after Superman he can't afford quality Gotham caliber bodyguards.

Oliver Queen might have had a tiny by rich people standards apartment in Gotham, he inherited it. It may have been destroyed during the quake. He doesn't bother to rebuild or buy a new one and just stays in fancy hotel if he has to be in Gotham for any length of time and grumbles that Bruce won't let him crash at his place.

Tim gets Drake Manor back, if he didn't have it already, and puts it in his and Kon's name so Kon can be smug at Luthor because Kon has property in Gotham. Tim might come up with another secret identity as Connor Luthor's Gotham bodyguard just for fun. Superman may be Luthor's villain nemesis, Tim is determined to make himself Luthor's social and business nemesis because Tim apparently doesn't have enough people who want his head on a pike. Also fewer people give Tim well meaning lectures against villainy when Tim makes trouble for Luthor than when he's made trouble for Clark after Clark has said or done something dumb to Kon. Plus having a business nemesis makes being primary shareholder in Wayne Enterprises less mind numbing for Tim.

These other stupidly rich people also end up getting fleeced for millions by the Waynes for the Wayne charities because if they're going to have all these extra idiots to keep an eye on then these extra idiots are going to pay for things like the road work that the city isn't paying for because the city budget was embezzled by some jerk who ran off with the money to some other hole in the ground.

If Jason is bored enough he will be one of those rogues who kidnaps one of the Gotham elite visiting for their maintain the status month and the ransom money goes directly to literacy and educational programs. This way his preferred causes are funded and he doesn't have to be stuck in a suit at a horribly boring gala where he has to be polite. He is also considered the top tier platinum star in rogues to be kidnapped by since he is professional, has kidnapped Waynes before (Damian convinced him to do it so Damian could get out of a series of civilian parties and go hang out with Jon instead and a few times Cass has gotten Jason to "kidnap" her so she doesn't have to deal with a gala either) and is known for returning people when the ransom is paid. He has, on occasion, returned people after the ransom demands were made and denied and it is later discovered that he took the ransom anyway and the person who denied to pay the ransom finds themselves in serious physical and legal trouble. Seasonal Gotham rich people will absolutely brag about having been kidnapped by the Red Hood who clearly has good taste in hostages.