#okay but going back. the brilliant thing is.

[gpcwsl]

Hi! for a caitlin foord request, do you think you could write caitlin foord x williamson!reader? reader isn’t an arsenal player but hangs out with the team a lot. maybe a party at leah’s and the team plays spin the bottle or something. thank you 💕

**Warnings** : Swearing, kissing, making-out, just an little suggestive and not probably read through. I am also not shipping any of theses people, it’s a fan-fiction work.

Caitlin Foord x Williamson/Reader:

An unexpected (spinning) twist.

Teaming bonding night was often. Very often for Y/N’s sake but she adores it either way. She loves her sister’s teammates, could never get sick of them.

Y/n wasn’t an footballer unlike her sister, who was one year younger than she was. She wasn’t as successful as Leah either, but she didn’t care one bit. Y/n actually haven’t got a job currently. She quit her job back in Leicestershire a few months ago when things got, well not great. Leah complained to her so many times to move away from there and come join her in London. So a few months in and things have really started to become so much better for her. And maybe more brilliant to come.

Again, Leah insisted on a team bonding small party at her (now hers and Y/n’) house. Of course, majority coming. Some being busy, having plans with their families or just wanting a chill evening which makes sense since they played a thrilling match. Alessia, Beth, Frida, Kyra, Katie, Caitlin, Emily and Lia. The ones were stocked to come.

Fast forward to around an hour later. Where everyone was talking, laughing around. Then the child, the pest of them all came up with an, terrible but not so terrible for the future, game.

Kyra insists that they should play spin the bottle. Everyone, and I mean everyone immediately deny her wishes. But, after a-lot of pestering. Here they are sat in a circle, on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Who will spin first.” Kyra asks, a big massive smile on her face.

“This is why we don’t invite you to stuffs, Kyra. Seriously? Spin the bottle is for kids, teenagers! Not grown adults!” Lia whines, hating the idea she might have to kiss someone.

“Come on! It won’t mean anything, just a little kiss. But, can’t be a peck. The kiss has to last at least five seconds long.” Kyra says, pointing out the rules which makes some groans and some curse Kyra under their breaths.

“Okay, okay. Lia since yours being mean, you spin first.” Kyra says, smiling smugly at the Swiss midfielder. Who rolls her eyes in return. “Let’s get this over with.”

Spinning the bottle it landing on Leah, who was opposite to her. Everyone ‘ooo’ as the two grow rose-red. Chanting ‘kiss, kiss, kiss.’ like a bunch on three year olds.

Leah makes the first move, leaning forward grabbing Lia’s chin; pulling her in, till there lips touch. Holding her lips on Lia’s for five seconds before slowly pulling away and retreating to her spot on the floor with beat red rosey cheeks, mirroring Lia’s.

Kyra then springs into action, wanting to spin next. Landing on Alessia. She immediately smiles up at her. Alessia rolls her eyes but there is a hint of enjoyment in Kyra’s actions. “Just get it over with.”

“By all means.” Kyra mumbles, smiling as she mirrors Leah’s actions. Gently grabbing Alessia’s chin; leaning forward kissing her softly, for more than five seconds as their lips move together. But then, Alessia breaks the kiss by shoving Kyra back in a playful manner, who then giggles in return. “Enjoyed that, Lessi?”

“Fuck off-“

“Right! Who’s next?” Kyra says, looking among the circle. “Caitlin?”

“Dammit-“ Caitlin whispers, as she shifts forward reaching for the bottle; mumbling curses words as she watching the bottle spin. As the bottle spins, it feels like it’s going in slow motion for Caitlin. Her eyes darting to a pacific figure across from her, who’s watching the bottle intensely. Huffing to herself before moving her eyes back to the bottle when it fully stops. Her eyes widen. Did fate do this? He eyes then going back to the figure, who now was already looking at her.

“No! No, no, no! I forbid for you to kiss anyone. I shouldn’t have even let you play this game.” Leah says, her sister manner coming in quick.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” Everyone but, Leah, Caitlin and Y/n chant. Y/n smiles at her before leaning in. But whispering. “You sure you wanna do this?”

Caitlin nods her head, her eyes fixated on Y/n lips before being the one to close to gap. Hesitantly connecting their lips. Just like Kyra’s and Alessia’s. The kiss lasted longer than five seconds. But, it lasted longer than ten seconds. As their found a rhythm of the kiss. Caitlin’s hands going on Y/N’s waist does it for Leah. Who immediately pulls them away. “Okay, that’s it. Stop kissing.”

“Cock-blocker.” Y/n says, smirking at Caitlin. Leah rolls her eyes, smacking her sister’s knee. “Don’t care if you guys just expressed some feelings that were just discovered right then and now. Just expressed them alone. I don’t want to see my sister making out with one of my friends.”

Y/n and Caitlin blushes before Y/n steps in. “Could say the same thing for you and Miss Swiss over there.” Leah goes bright red, flipping off her sister. “I’m done, I’m tired; I’m just done.”

“Oh come on- some of you haven’t kissed anyone yet-“

“Kyra, it’s time for you to leave.” Leah says, shaking her head as she pushes Kyra towards the door.

Caitlin grabs Y/N’s hand, holding her back. “Hey, can we talk?” Caitlin smiles softly at her. Y/n instantly smiles back, nodding her head. Looking over her shoddier seeing the others are preoccupied. She moves the two of them to an oboe place, the hallway of the downstairs bathroom and garage. “What’s up?”

“I-I just wanna talk about the kiss we had and I wanna know if it meant something.” Caitlin says, her eyes fixated on the floor.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t have kissed you longer than ten seconds if I didn’t.” I whisper, having an déjà vu moment as I leans forward cupping her chin. “May I?”

Caitlin nods, her eyes now on Y/N’s lips. Y/n places her lips on Caitlin. Not having any hesitation like last time. Her hands now fully cupping her cheeks as Caitlin’s slide around her waist. Kissing softly with a passion rhythm that gets slighlty out of control. Caitlin pushing her back makes Y/‘s back slam against the wall, groaning in response but doesn’t give any indication to stop the kissing.

Being to invested in the kiss, the two didn’t see or hear someone coming to them. “Caitlin? Are you leaving or- oh my god!”

The two breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, lips swollen as they look at the blonde defender. “Okay, I’m guessing you are staying the night. Just don’t make much of a sound, please.” Leah then walks away, her body shivering at the sight she just encountered. Y/n groans at her sister’s words, flipping her off.

“Am I staying the night?” Caitlin asks, smiling at Y/n. Her hands still in her waist. Y/n smiles back, nodding her head. “Yeah, I would love that.” “Me too.”

[americanwhores]

i’m dumb (she’s a lesbian)

ft. jimmy x fem!reader

tags. homophobia, non-con/rape, jimmy forces himself on a lesbian, homophobic slurs, forced orgasm, facial, death threats, choking, misogyny

note. um #yeah don’t like don’t read. rbs and feedback always appreciated :3 ignore any mistakes this is unedited, gets very disjointed..

Jimmy sees you from across the bar. You have this cute little girl pout and these bouncy tits that really have some life to them. Your stuck-up friend is already all over Curly, raking her acrylic claws down his chest while he buys her a fruity drink.

He doesn’t even get the chance to open his mouth before you’re covering your drink, mouth a thin red line as you tell him—“I’m a lesbian.”

Beside him, your friend is giggling obnoxiously at something unfunny Curly has said. He’s got this pretty young thing rubbing up on him, pressing her perky tits against his and it’s so not fair that he gets stuck with the dyke.

”Didn’t ask.” Jimmy’s lip curls up in distaste like he wasn’t just wondering about whether your pussy was shaved or not. After that revelation, he’s guessing you let it get a little wild. Feminism and lesbianism and bush and all that. They go hand in hand. “You sure as hell don’t look like one.” He can never help himself, he can’t leave it at that.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, standing a little straighter, the anger that flares up inside of you has taken you off guard. The hand once firmly placed over your cocktail is in a tight fist by your side.

Jimmy shrugs. “I’m just sayin’ you don’t look like one.” He leers at you, your shapely thighs and heart-shaped ass. “You sure about it?”

“Yes I am.”

He takes you in. Perfect down to your manicured, painted toes. You’ve got this look about you, a certain softness that comes with never having to work for what you want. “How’d you know?” He taunts, tilting his head in challenge. “You slept with a guy before?”

“I don’t need to sleep with a guy to know.” You take a step back, raising a dainty paw in the air to keep him at arms length - those rings could double as knuckle dusters, well-tended to cuticles, nails filed into perfect chromatic black points, the polish shining like the shells on brilliant, exotic beetles.

He doesn’t buy it. You’re young, stupid, and confused.

“Yeah? You want a sticker for that?” It’s okay, really, happens to the best people. Confusion does. Jimmy caught a glimpse of Curly’s dick at a sleepover once and he was confused for a week or so. He passed it off as jealousy. That thing was a monster. There’s no way Jimmy wanted it up his ass. He doesn’t want anything up his ass, and you just need to be broken in.

You knock back your drink - the one he considered spiking, one hand in his pocket messing with a baggie - signalling to your friend that you’re stepping outside for a smoke. Instead of taking it as a cue to back off, Jimmy follows, slinking behind you like bad news. A fox in the bushes, nifty and deliberate like he’s ready to pounce, but happy to stalk you from afar.

“Leave me alone.” You raise your voice, hoping to catch the attention of anyone as he trails you, heavy footfall matching the click-clack of your pristine heels.

“I just want to talk,” Jimmy drawls, humoured by your clumsy urgency, a hand striking out to clamp down on your wrist. You’re fever-hot, a flame he’d happily let burn him alive. He’s a moth, wings scorched for one fleeting moment in your light.

Worth it.

“About what?!”

“Come on,” Jimmy sighs like he’s hurt, “about us.”

“There is no us, I don’t know you!” You’re so fun to rile up. So young and fiery and easy. “I know it must be hard for you to find a girl that wants to put up with…” With your free hand, you gesture abstractly to him, the wear and tear of his aging face, dirty jeans, scuffed boots, the scruff. “With this… But I am a lesbian, okay? I like girls, I don’t want to have sex with you, I don’t even want to be near you.”

To be entirely frank, it doesn’t matter if you’re a lesbian or a doctor or a cleaner or a nurse or a lawyer, you could be the goddamn president and Jimmy wouldn’t give a fuck. You’re a girl, and even prissy little dykes have wet little pussies between their thighs.

So, he backs you up against a brick wall, blocking your view of the street, of the drunk bar-goers walking by, the cars zooming past. One of Jimmy’s cold hands moves fast up your thigh and under your dress, trapping itself in your cotton undies. “I don’t care,” he tells you honestly, sneering down at you while he cups your warm cunt.

It’s freshly shaved. A lesbian that shaves, alright. Sure. Whatever floats your boat.

“Aw.” Jimmy gives you a falsely cordial smile as you writhe, mouth open in silent terror as you try to comprehend what’s happening. “Look at that.” He runs his finger along the seam of your cunt, the razor bumps. “You thought you were gonna get laid, that’s so cute.” And you will. By him. Your efforts won’t go to waste. A dick is a man’s best friend, and soon it’ll be yours too.

He squeezes your mound and you yelp, squirming in his grasp. You smell like cinnamon and lotion and incense and expensive, girly things that make him slightly ill. “I’ve got a gun,” says Jimmy, who does not have a gun. His unspoken threat has your body going ramrod straight, fear glazing over your eyes. “Good girl,” he hums, taking his hand out of your panties, wiping it on his jeans.

You don’t have the chance to run, not when his arm is around your shoulders, not when you probably think he has a gun, and especially not in those heels. “I don’t want to—I don’t want to go with you.”

“God.” Jimmy rolls his eyes. “I told you I don’t care.” Kicking up a fuss in the middle of the street, you're a difficult one. It’s okay though, he likes fighters. He likes to watch them kick and scream. It gets so boring when they start to like it.

“Help me!” You wave your arm wildly at a group of three who he’d spotted inside the bar earlier, they’re arm in arm, two guys and a pretty girl. She’s the first one to say anything, breaking away from her friends to ask if you’re okay. Ugh. He hates it.

“Babe,” Jimmy says, putting on his patient, slightly stressed boyfriend voice, “we need to get you home, come on.”

“He’s taking me! He tried to—“

“Babe,” he cuts in smoothly, a hand low on your back, rubbing circles into your skin, “I’m sorry about her, total lightweight, I should put her on a leash.”

“No worries, man.” The taller guy says, his cheeks are red from drinking. “This one gets like that too.” He laughs and pats the girls head. She’s hesitant to go even when he takes her arm.

“Are you sure—“

“Yes.” Jimmy nods.

“No! Oh my god—No, please don’t go!” Your eyes dart around for anyone else as they become mere dots in your vision, an escape route that doesn’t exist while Jimmy very happily drags you back to his car.

“I told you I had a gun,” he says very casually, like he’s reading a news report off of a teleprompter, loading you into the car like a fancy piece of luggage, “what if I used it?”

“I don’t believe you.” You cross your arms, trembling, fidgeting, and sniffling. Trying to come to terms with it all. “I can’t believe any of this, oh my god, you’re, like, kidnapping me you sicko!”

“I don’t want to keep you,” Jimmy clarifies. You’re already a handful, what could he possibly want from you that extends past your virgin pussy?

“So what do you want from me?” You ask, frowning down at your lap and dabbing away at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m just gonna show you a good time,” he reassures, patting your thigh, undeterred by the sharp slap you give his naughty hand, “no need to worry.”

For what might be the first time in your life, or at least Jimmy assumes, you fall completely quiet, watching the road with big, doleful eyes.

“Listen,” Jimmy sighs, “I just want to help you out, I don’t think it’s wrong or anything, uh, lesbians.“ Dykes, he wanted to say. “I just think you should try it out, a real dick, you ever put anything inside you?” He takes your silence as a no. “I guess not, huh? I’ve watched the videos—“ Religiously he watches them. Girls squeezing their tits together, spreading their holes for the camera before they lick into each other’s cunts, sloppy pussies slotting against one another, clits bumping. “—Just feels like something’s missing, something, uh, something real, it’s not sex if there’s no dick, if nothing goes inside.” He glances over at you. “What I’m trying to say is, you can’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“Are you done?” Your voice breaks.

“Uh, not really, but sure.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with that anyways. Maybe that dildos don’t count as dicks.

”You’re going to rape me.” You whimper like you haven’t known his intentions this entire time.

Bingo.

“Yeah.” Jimmy shrugs. “I guess I am.”

Your shoulders begin to shake, chest heaving as you try to control the jagged breaths that cut into you, hands covering your face as you sob.

He sighs, already exhausted by the dramatics. “And then I’m going to kill you,” he says dryly.

You sob louder, tossing your head back to really open your airways up, get as loud as possible.

“Alright, alright, I’m kidding,” Jimmy murmurs, rough palm smoothing over your inner thigh. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Jimmy’s bed creaks with the deadweight of your body, it’s halfway busted, he found the mattress at a garage sale. Stained, noisy, but otherwise okay. He gets on top of you, hair hanging over your face like he’s isolating you from the rest of the world, there’s no way out of this.

You haven’t stopped crying. Snivelling, pouting, hiccuping like a child. Desperate sobs dying out in the face of his indifference. “Let me go,” you beg, “please don’t do this to me—“

God. That gets old fast.

He pays you no mind, used to tuning it out, both your wrists in his hand as he slides your panties down your kicking legs, dress scrunched up around your waist like a belt. Your pussy is too cute to go unfucked.

Jimmy undoes his belt, it hangs loose like a thread while he watches you pant and kick uselessly, thrashing like you’re working against a strong current. It’s cute. You’re trying to push through even as tiredness takes your tender muscles in its claws, spreading through your body like poison. Aw. You tuckered yourself out.

“Done?” Jimmy huffs out a laugh through his nose, sliding his jeans and boxers down his hips in one go, cock popping out and hanging heavy, the thick head prodding your thigh. It wets your skin with sticky pre and you recoil visibly, a shuddered breath passing through you. “Touch it,” he urges, “won’t bite.”

“No,” you mumble, closing your eyes, refusing to look at him or touch him or even breathe in his direction.

Clicking his tongue, Jimmy spreads your thighs, running the fat head up your slit. You’re not wet so he parts your cunt lips with his index and forefinger, a glob of spit dropping from his mouth, trickling down your folds and into your ass crack. It’ll do.

He presses the head to your tiny opening, where no real cock has been, this pretty little dyke cunt all for his taking. You cry out when he pushes in, hands flying to his shoulders, your nails on his skin are rewarding.

“No… No—It hurts, oh god.” Your eyes are wide open, jaw hanging open, pussy split open as he slides his dick in inch by painful inch, the painful drag of his shaft on your raw walls.

You push him out and he pushes harder on purpose, working against the resistance your cunt puts up until his balls press neatly to the swell of your ass. You’re saying something and Jimmy isn’t listening, too busy watching where the two of you meet, your hole split like an open wound. A rusty knife in your guts.

He grows tired of your aimless chatter, hand wrapping around your neck so tight you grow frantic, unable to draw breath, suffocating as every part of you is ruined by him. “I know it hurts,” Jimmy says monotonously, “it’ll get better.”

Hips drawn back, with a little difficulty, you’re not wet enough for it to happen smoothly, Jimmy slams back into you with a grunt, tip jabbing at your cervix so hard you let out a strangled noise. “Tell you what, I’ll pull out if you cum for me.”

Now, the female orgasm is none of Jimmy’s business, its a myth for all he cares, but to get a dyke to cum, that’s a different story. You’re going to cum no matter what, you don’t really have a say. Even when he removes his hand from your throat, there’s not much you can do about the deft fingers working on your clit.

It’s not quite right. Your pussy isn’t wet like a pussy should be. Sticky, letting the pads of his fingers glide over your clit until you cream your stupid dyke cunt all over him. Instead, it’s slippery, he ends up rubbing too hard, pinching your clit until his fingertips prune. Your breath is uneven, shaky, chapped lips parted as a pained look contorts your pretty face.

You are pretty. Too pretty to be a dyke. Too pretty to not be stuffed full of a big dick, he’s doing the right thing here. You just needed a push in the right direction.

He feels it, the way you go rigid, pussy so tight you cut off his blood circulation, and you cry. Boo-fucking-hoo, he made you cum. God forbid. Girls are never happy. You don’t make them cum and they claim to be gay, you make them cum and they freak out on you.

“I told you,” Jimmy hums, popping his cock out of your stretched hole, shifting upwards so his thighs are on either side of your head, “you gotta give it a try, now you don’t have to be confused.” He jerks his cock slowly, admiring the dead-eyed expression you’ve taken on, barely even blinking as he blows his load all over your face, in your hair and those expensive-looking false lashes.

Even dykes are a little straight, they just need a push in the right direction.

[clearwingedmaven]

Okay, okay. There's also a second short story that I could ramble about at length, "The Adventure of the Speckled Band."

Well, yes, it is the prime example(or one of them) of a Locked Room Mystery, and it's so deeply terrifying of a premise(what could have killed a woman locked up tight in her room, leaving her screaming only about a speckled band?)

It also really gets to showcase more vulnerabilities and emotions from both Holmes and Watson. And still gets one thinking.

Thanks in part to the Granada adaptation(yet again, they're quite fabulous in terms of 1:1 adaptations), you actually get to see Holmes go through a whirlwind of emotions. This mystery is intriguing, and why wouldn't it be, how can someone die in a locked up room, so the excitement is always somewhere under the surface.

And yet, and my favorite parts, it immediately flips when Holmes reveals Helen Stoner is being abused by Roylott. There's quite a noticeable increase in tension, and Holmes describes it in the book as,

"You are being cruely used." Cruely is a strong term at this point, and for a "reformed misogynist", this is remarkable progress for him.

And yet, it also raises questions. This was after A Scandal in Bohemia, so did the Woman come back into mind at the signs of abuse? Has he gotten cases before where there is, evidence of abuse in times where it was commonplace and called it out as an evil?

The confrontation with Roylott is brilliant too, as he's gotten the measure of the man willing to chase down his stepdaughter, bruise her, and threaten Holmes in his home. It'd be all too easy to make mention that Helen was there, but no, he keeps her secrets.

It ties really well into the Five Orange Pips, where you see that Holmes can be so loyal towards his clients in both instances. He's willing to risk himself being hurt by Roylott, so that Helen can at least escape untraced and unharmed.

And it stays that way through the story. Holmes is able to recognize that this is, an incredible danger, and takes her place in the chambers where she would have been killed, and where Julia died before.

Striking the... "Indian Swamp Adder" to where it goes back and kills Roylott? Cherry on top. He's already admitted he's hesitated to bring Watson along, so he goes after the thing that killed Julia almost immediately(so it wouldn't kill again)... and has no problems once again, expressing his distaste for a vile, vile man.

And it's brilliant.

[angstandhappiness]

COOL

I demonstrate the 10 types of magic ✨

[wwerasliin-sideblog]

Personally I'm choosing not to see Jey's IC Championship reign as a "hand off" ; or "transitional" ; or an obligatory "reward" —

He deserves better than his reign being "labeled".

This is all for the draw back into the Bloodline drama story. From the very beginning, this is what it was. But, also... It was to show that Jey IS capable. He showed he DOES deserve it. Showing he IS a Champion. Showing he CAN do it. He's proved he's got the fans with him. He's backed himself. He's established himself, and he's proven himself. He's always going to stick to and believe - "hard work will always pay off."

Of course Roman and Jimmy weren't going to interfere. Jey would've been absolutely livid if they did. He doesn't want them 'tainting' his reign. He wants it on his own merit. To earn it himself. Even if that means loosing. He sure as heck isn't going to go back to the old ways of the Bloodline retaining their championships; Roman's way of remaining Champ, and retaining.

This could possibly push him over the edge, making him desperate, scratchy, scrappy and scrambling even. He's now got *rage*; a bone to pick with the Bloodline 2.0. How's it going to tie in with the OG Bloodline? Even if they have the same goal now - taking down baby brother Solo? Is it going to be "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" type of situation? Or, like I mentioned in my previous post, "fix/heal what's between us" before we try and fix the outside — then we "fix" the outside together?

Having one over them, with the title was one of the things that gave Jey the confidence to say -Screw you. Right now, I am better than you, I've got the credibility- Now that he doesn't have that (not that he needs it) is he going to be a little more susceptible...

This IS the reaction they (wwe) wanted -

Outrage and desperation seeping into us. The fury, rage and disappointment so palpable. Our hearts beating with heated anger, inflamed with a certain kind of sadness. It has us aching for him, backing him more than ever before. He's made to suffer and all we want to do is pick him up and make sure he's okay, and he's given the best. Hold his hand and walk with him into a bright and better future filled with greater things.

All I can say is that he's got another level of support after this ridiculous travesty, the support has only grown; strengthen, heightened, deepened, intensified, and cemented to an even greater degree.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

I need to scream about this event (Friends Like These) because I truly was just. Not expecting the impact it would have--I don't remember if I read this one in Japanese???

I've only gotten the first two stories so far but I just.

Jeanne and Mozart are of course, as adorable as ever; there's no question about that. But Jeanne dropping this line:

"It galls me to sound so much like le Comte, but I am grateful to God that I met you."

I. [prolonged error 404 sounds]. I'm not sure there are words to convey the simultaneous endless wheezing laughter but also AWWWWWWWW energy that consumed me in milliseconds. Wildly oscillating between "LMFAO ah yes, sentimentality? Disgusting I'll drink to that (blasts Bring Me To Life)" and "BECAUSE YOU LOVE HIM DEEP DOWN AND HE LOVES YOU WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH."

I just can't get over how Jeanne says exactly one thing about liking another person and he's like, 'ew dad gave me cooties >:///// how dare he subject me to the mortifying ordeal of hope.' Jeanne I love you. Jeanne I would die for you. Middle schooler with well-meaning stepfather who begrudgingly accepts his kindness and grows for the better, but would rather perish than admit it. I never knew I needed this found family dynamic so freaking bad until I started playing this game. 11/10 I could watch this forever

More Shenanigans below the cut, + the Shakespeare and Comte Event Story:

Also a sidebar because I just can't help myself, I know I've talked about it before but: Mozart and Jeanne's friendship is so endlessly precious to me????? I love how Mozart is so NO I'M NOT NICE REEEEE (turtles) and Jeanne is like :> bestie. It's so damn cute watching Mozart squirm at being exposed for being sweet and Jeanne just truly grateful someone cares about him?????? How much Jeanne and MC dote on Mozart despite being together, how it only strengthens their friendship? Literally I'm over the moon, nobody touch me I'm tender!!! Jeanne deserves to live peacefully without being a tool of the state/bad actors!!!! Mozart deserves to be loved and happy without being defined by his musical success!!!!!

LIKE. Not to be dramatic but I could watch an entire saga of these two being friends and being adorable. Fresh serotonin every single time. Did I know Jeanne was going to share his food? Absolutely. Did I expect MC to think ahead and pack two lunches? Absolutely not. Was I delighted both times? Beyond what you can imagine!!!!!!!

I'm going to stop here at the risk of repeating myself over and over but wow. Jeanne's capacity to see to the very core of people, for better and worse, and how it lets Mozart be meaningfully seen. Mozart's recognition that Jeanne can mean well to a fault, worried that he might be taken advantage of--and how Jeanne can build trust with someone for the first time without being afraid. Can you hear me wailing and bawling

Naturally, I acquired the Comte and Shakespeare one next. Now, I'm gonna be honest, I saw their names together and went "oh dear God. What am I walking into. Why do I hear boss music????" But I gathered my courage (more like I'm just too feral not to gather info abt Comte, but I digress) and experienced something that left me literally on the floor because I just. Did Not Remotely Expect This Series of Events.

So like. It starts off by being pretty normal and cute and I'm like awwww baby boy (oh he's a little fked up actually) giving gifts to dad. I'm sensing an ulterior motive but right now just let me have this. Also adorable that Comte is struck dumb by it, that's really cute I'm taking notes. And then. I was hit with the veritable ANVIL that was these next few lines:

deep breath Okay. Where to begin.

I LOST IT at the implication that Will was like. Holding back from ending Comte's entire life with mere words. WILL????? WILL P L S??????? (lowkey wanted to hear the roast snickers) Why am I sensing a pattern that Comte loves spicy people??? Love this for me

I also started losing my shit the second MC was mentioned and you could just hear the record scratch/kill bill sirens. Comte really out here like "son say WHAT about MC." I can't get over how he's always so ready to throw down for both MC and Sebas at any moment. Anywho, naturally I come to the conclusion that Will was just trying to one-up Comte to mess with him by giving MC gifts. It was the one thing I did anticipate--and, fool that I was--thought it rendered me safe from what happens next.

DEAR READER. DEAR READER I WAS SO WRONG. I WAS SO TERRIBLY WRONG.

BABY GIRL. BABY GIRL ON WHAT LEVEL IS THIS NORMAL BEHAVIOR. I'M LITERALLY CRYING RN?????? THE FACT THAT I CAN'T TELL IF HE'S JUST BEING SILLY GOOFY OR HE LEGITIMATELY MEANS IT OR SOME COMBINATION OF THE TWO????????

Mans out here like "I lost everything in the war (literally) let me spoil my girlboss dream gf in peace. Vlad took everything in the divorce let me have this pls." I just. The mental image of him chasing Will around the house. The potential implications of him doing this to protect them both (I love you Will but you have. Problems). The HILARIOUS AND DUBIOUS qualifier when he says "dressing up MC is nearly my entire reason for living." Comte I love you more than life itself but that does not make this any more normal. What are you doing my beloved vampire jkhlhalfdhjfg 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Also an honorable mention moment, because it was endearing:

Just the img of him wandering around with sparkly eyes and toting home little trinkets for everyone??????? He's so cute, that's the most grandpa behavior I've ever seen. I was chortling when Will was like "sir you made me sit in that cluttered carriage followed by another carriage full of stuff all the way home IT'S TIME FOR REVENGE (affectionate)."

I also love how Comte is like "Do I have a problem? Maybe. Will that stop me? Only when the sun cataclysmically swallows the earth."

Literally half of the members of the house are like "why are you like this" and he just heeheehoos his way out of it. How does he keep getting away with it. Can you tell I love him. Dazai isn't the only clown in this house honks Comte's nose

[fist-amidst-the-hands]

kinda want izzy to absolutely decimate stede at chess and I can't explain why

[hexados-on-a-string]

her: they're probably thinking abt other women

me: at the end of episode 52 of nv when everyone's saying goodbye, helios and drago talk abt hopefully the next time they meet they'll still be friends and be on the same side. when spectra shows up again in ms he tells them that yes they're still friends and on the same side, however when he comes back the brawlers are falling apart and dan has a link to magmel and is also generally being a Huge Jerk™, which might be an understatement. bringing back spectra during this arc was a brilliant idea bc other than being the writers' clear favourite, nv already set up parallels between dan and spectra and the contrast between how dan's acting and how even spectra of all people is actually disturbed and concerned by it shows how bad the situation has actually gotten.

[rambles-about-minecraft-ocs]

theres something so funny to me when hermits are talking about redstone and theyre like "and then theres an etho hopper clock here-"

like. of course they use etho hopper clocks, itd be weirder if they actively avoided using it, considering its like. a redstone thingy that is very useful and still works even after all this time, and from what i understand it was like. a pretty big deal in terms of useful things you could do with redstone back when he first made it because it opened up ways to do even more things with redstone

and like for the most part theyve probably been referring to that particular thing as an etho hopper clock for longer than theyve even known etho personally, considering the etho hopper clock predates his joining hermitcraft by at least 1-2 years, and several of the other hermits joining hermitcraft by even more. so of course they still call it that

on a related note, most of them likely had at least heard of etho before meeting him, even if they didnt personally watch him (tho i know some did) since he was an old school minecraft youtuber. like his original season 1 of "lets play minecraft" started when minecraft was so new it hadnt been officially released yet. literally back in minecraft alpha. he was a minecraft youtuber OG

so with those two points taken into consideration it completely makes sense that "etho hopper clock" is something ingrained into the terminology of anyone that does stuff with redstone somewhat regularly. theres no reason it wouldnt be

but when you put it into contrast with like. their actual interactions with etho. it kind of cracks me up???

its like. in my head the vibes are this: imagine building something and being like "okay guys, for this machine we need to use an archimedes screw, which is named of course after its inventor archimedes, a man so genius that to this day he is regarded as one of the most brilliant inventors and mathematicians to ever walk this earth" and then like thirty minutes later you go to a restaurant and you see archimedes, of classic antiquity fame, trying to eat a sandwich but the ingredients keep falling out in increasingly comedic manners. so you of course call him pathetic to his face, and then ask if he wants to try out your new totally-not-a-scam product that you carry on you at all times for opportunities like these. and for some reason he doesnt just say yes, but buys two

[nondelphic]

the five stages of grief: writer's edition

denial: "this draft is amazing. no need for edits. it’s practically perfect as is." you’re so confident that you close the document for the day, smiling like you’ve just discovered the next great american novel (or swedish, or british, whatever). plot hole? who is she?

anger: "why did i ever think this was good? this is garbage. i am garbage. my characters are flat, my dialogue is cringe, and my prose sounds like a robot swallowed a thesaurus and threw up on the page." rage-quit the doc and go aggressively scroll pinterest for "writing inspiration" that you will never use.

bargaining: "if i fix this one scene, the whole thing will click into place. i just need to write one more subplot, maybe five more chapters, a quick rewrite of the entire ending, and then it'll be fine. totally manageable." queue up 17 youtube videos on "how to fix your plot" that you play in the background while staring at your ceiling.

depression: "i will never finish this book. it’s doomed. i’m doomed. why do i even write? who let me have ideas?!" lay dramatically on your bed, considering taking up knitting or rock collecting instead. cry a little over how your characters deserve a better writer.

acceptance: "this is the best i can do right now, and that’s okay. i’ll take a break, come back with fresh eyes, and remember why i love this stupid, broken story." suddenly, your MC whispers something brilliant, and you're like wait… maybe i'm a genius after all.

and the cycle begins again. writing is a joy.

[reiderwriter]

Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader

Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.

Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.

A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...

Masterlist

If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 

Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 

Including your most recent problem  child. 

You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 

Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 

You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 

Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 

You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 

“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 

“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”

“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 

The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 

“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 

“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 

“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 

“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 

You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 

“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 

You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 

“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 

“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 

“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 

“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 

The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 

“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 

In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 

“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”

“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 

The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 

“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 

“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”

The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 

“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 

“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 

The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 

“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 

You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 

“Great. Sure, let's go see.”

Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 

“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 

“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 

Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 

“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 

“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 

If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 

“Harper, that's not how it works-” 

“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 

“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 

Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 

“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 

The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 

“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 

“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 

“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 

“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.

"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 

Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 

You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 

“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 

The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 

“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 

The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 

“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 

“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 

“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 

“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 

The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 

“It was that obvious?” 

“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 

“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 

“Secret part?” 

“To make the other baby, silly!” 

[norrisjpg]

novacane - ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.

contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x unnamed female character

...

...

lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.

the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.

venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.

"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.

fucking hell.

she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.

his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.

again, lando thought he was actually going to die.

"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.

he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.

"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.

yep, he was definitely going to die.

...

if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.

she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.

he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.

"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.

he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.

"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.

"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.

"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.

technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.

"let's go, come on."

...

as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.

she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.

“god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.

“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.

“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”

she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.

“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.

"you think?" she responded quietly.

"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.

a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.

god, she looked divine.

she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)

a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.

"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.

a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?

"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.

"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"

"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.

he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.

not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.

she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.

over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.

they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.

"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.

the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.

"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.

"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."

he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.

their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.

"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.

he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.

lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)

the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.

breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.

the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.

she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.

"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"

pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?

"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.

now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.

his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.

maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.

his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.

sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.

"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

she was so gone.

lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.

she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.

she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.

she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.

that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.

slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.

"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.

"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.

"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"sleep, definitely."

[soarrenbluejay]

Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

[tender-rosiey]

maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️

you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.

not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.

“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.

“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”

“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”

time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.

the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.

“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.

before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.

you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”

satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”

ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.

he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.

you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”

satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”

ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”

satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.

“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”

satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.

“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”

you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”

satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”

you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.

you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.

ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”

ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.

he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”

he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”

“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.

he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.

“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”

he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”

he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Random idea that came to me. Crawling under bat boys hoodie and falling asleep on their chest

Brilliant idea anon, absolutely brilliant.

Jason would smile in amusement as he watched you try to burry yourself under his red hoodie, it was quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen you do all day as he sets aside his book, just to watch the lump under his hoodie that was you crawl up towards his chest as though you were a cat.

He guessed his reading could wait as he investigates your reasonings for being so fucking cute.

‘Whatcha doing?’ He’d ask as he lifts the collar of his hoodie to see you sigh in relief as you cuddled up to his chest, finally where you wanted to be.

‘Cuddling.’ You replied.

‘You mean leeching off of my warmth more like you little shit,’ he pokes you in the side through his hoodie, making you squirm, ‘aren’t you going to get too hot down there? I run quite warm remember.’ He adds, worried that you might get a little bit suffocated beneath his hoodie and his bare chest, he didn’t want you to get lightheaded under his watch.

‘I’ll be okay jay birdie.’ You kissed his pec, rubbing your cheek against it afterwards as you let out a massive yawn, Jason’s warmth and overall comforting presence was enough to have you feeling a little sleepy. ‘I just was feeling a little cold.’ You murmured the last part as your eyes felt heavy and your words becoming slurred as your body relaxed in the position that it was in.

Jason smiled softly as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. ‘Okay my little heat hogger, but if I think you’re getting too hot in there, I’m taking you out.’ He chuckled when you let out a small noise to let him know you’ve heard him before falling asleep against him completely.

He’ll just have to let you crawl under his hoodie more often and he has a feeling this will become a tradition between the two of you sooner or later.

Dick couldn’t help but squirm when you chirruped yourself under his hoodie.

‘Babe!’ He whined, ‘I’m ticklish!’

‘Sorry dickie bean, but I’m cold and I want warmth.’ Was your reply as you cuddled up to his chest, humming in content when you found the perfect spot to sleep on.

‘I know but why do you have to burrow under my hoodie? Or is it so you can rest your head on my bare pecs?’ Dick inquired as he throws his arms over you, keeping you where you were under his hoodie as you popped your head out from the collar to kiss his jaw.

‘I like your warmth and listening to your heart beat, your tiddies are just the bonus aspect of it all dickie bean.’ You responded as you disappeared back under the hoodie to rest your head on his pecs once more, closing your eyes in content.

‘Since you think it’s okay to do this, does that mean I can do the same when you wear a hoodie?’ Dick asked as he pouts, feeling as though he was missing out on something revolutionary. You giggled against him. ‘Sure I don’t see why not but I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit under my hoodie sweetie.’ You answered, smiling to yourself at the idea of dick being stuck halfway under your hoodie, face buried in your tummy but he’s more then content there as he occasionally blows raspberries, much to your dismay.

‘I’ll hold you to that, but for now I’ll let you snuggle my pecs and leech off my warmth like the little hog that you are.’ Dick teased as he kisses your head, smiling when he felt you tighten your grip on him however you could, even if it did tickle him a little bit he would endure it for you.

‘I’m not a hogger.’ You pout.

‘That’s what they all say, even the cute ones.’ Dick tells you as he found himself drifting off to sleep.

Bruce

Raises a brow when you pulled up his hoodie, only to quickly crawl your way underneath and cling to his chest like a needy kitten. ‘Can I help you my dear? If you’re cold I can just tell Alfred to turn up the heat or fetch another blanket?’ He asked the human sized lump under his hoodie that was you.

‘No! I like it here more.’ Came your muffled response as Bruce felt you cling to him even more, burring your head in between his tiddies that were soft as a pair of pillows when he wasn’t involuntary flexing his muscles. ‘This is the only way I can combat the cold.’

Bruce chuckled softly, you humoured him with your antics and he didn’t mind at all as he needed a moment or two of laughter in his life after going without it for a long, long while. ‘Are you planning staying there the entire evening? Won’t you get too warm or uncomfortable?’ He asks as he makes his way towards the bedroom, uncaring of the double takes dick and Jason gave him when he passed by.

‘Is Bruce pregnant?’ Jason whispered to dick when Bruce was out of sight.

‘No it’s just y/n clinging to him. They do that when they’re cold.’ Dick replied but even for a split second he also thought Bruce was pregnant, not that he’d tell Jason that, ever.

‘I’ll be fine, besides I’ve got the greatest pillows right here to sleep on.’ You cheekily told him and you lightly bite down on his pectorals and giggling to yourself. Bruce sighs, knowing he’s got yet another mark that he’ll have to avoid explaining to Alfred or worse Clark but he likes the fact that you felt secure enough to cuddle under his hoodie, it warmed his heart and he knew that he would never stop you from doing so as it was just as therapeutic for him and it was for you.

[three--rings]

One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.

It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.

I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.

But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.

We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)

And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.

Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.

The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.

In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.

And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.

But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.

That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.

Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.

Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.

So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.

But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.