#pretty sure we see evidence of it on-screen a few times

[alatismeni-theitsa]

In "KAOS" nothing is anything, and everything is wrong

Two disclaimers: I am no stranger to modern art, and I have no issue with queerness in shows, or in my own mythology (I'm Greek). I am also aware that KAOS is a comedy. It's in the gutter of British comedy, but still part of the genre. At least I laughed every time they said "Oh God!". I don't believe this is the same person who wrote the great and amusing "End of the F**king World"! The premise of "The gods in our modern world" appeals to me a lot, so that wasn't my problem either. My general issue with KAOS is its horrible delivery, bad writing, and piss-poor Greek representation.

This is gonna be long and full of stupid gifs, so sit comfortably, grab a coffee or some popcorn and... pame!

The "ILoveGreekMythology" Kid

Art without context is just a pretty thing to look at. Most of the time, this context can be found within the art piece itself, as the artist has taken care to weave it in. KAOS refuses to connect itself to any context besides the names and a few vague powers. It aims to exist outside of those "boring old stories of the Greek myth" and be entirely "fresh and modern". Something impossible when the entire show and the meanings are based on ancient recorded material. In other words, KAOS is so meta that it ends up being nothing. KAOS cannot stand on its own because you need more than the viewers being familiar with the Greek myth basics to pull such a show off.

KAOS tells us "See? I know all the names of the gods, and what they did, and I know all the locations, so I am qualified to tackle this". More or less like any Western kid who takes all their knowledge from PJO and Marvel and proceeds to unironically hate ancient deities and make a girlboss out of Medusa.

Here's a Greek word for you guys, ημιμάθεια, meaning "half-knowledge". Α Greek saying very well declares "Half-knowledge is worse than no knowledge". The confidence of thinking you know enough often leads you to grave mistakes whereas the humility of not knowing prevents you from touching shit that you shouldn't. When you have no idea what the original myth is trying to say and spit on its meaning, knowing a few names and locations is just smoke and mirrors. I don't believe the audience fell for that.

And don't get me started on the "subversions". A good subversion is intriguing and thought-provoking. In KAOS, every twist was hollow - Greek myth related or otherwise.

"What if Euridice doesn't love Orpheus?" I don't know, babe. What if??? What was the point of that? What did you show us? That women's stories are dominated by men and men don't listen to women, perhaps? And you chose to twist... the love story of Orpheus and Euridice to show this?? One of the best and most tragic love stories Greek mythology has to offer?? You just mocked the myth, you didn't make anything profound out of it.

The Greek Stuff (Nothing salvageable)

I was surprised to see they had a Consulting Producer (Georgia Christou) and an Assistant Script Editor (Isabella Yianni) who happen to be Greek. And I stress that because those people probably weren't hired or utilized for being Greek. We are not sure they were involved in cultural decisions because we have no evidence and because shows with no Greek elements can have more Greeks than that on their staff.

Okay, perhaps they took 5 seconds to ask Isabella about a greeting - which they proceeded to say in a wrong intonation 🙄🤌It's where Poseidon says "ya sás" in the Fates, by the way. How he said it sounds more like "for you (pl.)" than "health to you (pl.)".

Surprise! The only Greek actor present (Peter Polycarpou) has less than 5 minutes of screen time and plays the caricature of an immigrant with a thick (and inaccurate Greek) accent. He has a canteen, selling falafel which is not Greek, and Dionysus buys from him an unidentified tortilla wrap (which... is also not Greek, if you haven't caught up).

For the show they brought in actors of Maori, Nigerian and Sierra Leonean, Pakistani, Black American, Latvian-Jewish, Iranian, Egyptian, Indo-Fijian and Malay descent and you tell me it was impossible for them to seek and find an English-speaking, skilled actor of Greek descent in a show regarding Greek heritage. Sometimes I wonder, do y'all hate us so much?

They considered Greeks only to give us a simple (and wrong) greeting and a stereotype. Crumbs, we are supposed to be happy with. By the way, there are over 70.000 Greek immigrants just in the UK, usually in the urban centers, many of them students or fairly young employees in the corporate workforce. Not the largest minority but not hard to spot either.

Another plague of Anglophone shows: Almost everyone's Greek name is shortened. Yes, we know their full names but we are told that we will use the short ones. Greeks and their "long and difficult" names am I right fellas? Because saying "Ariadne" apparently requires 5 years of Greek language training, and no English word ever has more than two syllables.

Coincidentally, short names are cool in Anglophone imaginary universes and the "long" names are not. it's so strange Anglophones never make universes where it's cool for Greek names to be spoken in full hmmm... They don't even want to practice saying a whole Greek name for just 2 minutes in preparation for a show full of Greek names. And don't give me that "Greek is hard" shit when we only talk about a few syllables. If Greek kids can learn English since first grade and people here can sing English songs and spell English names, you have no excuse.

They also said the name "Fotis" means light, which is close enough but... ugh.. It's like saying Sebastian means "respect". I am not sure if they asked anyone or what their research was here. If I had the writers in front of me, I'd be like:

(This character from an all-time favorite Greek show is called Fotis)

They also made the flag of "Krete" an alteration of the Greek flag and the local Cretan flag. Which is the stupidest move, because they had to remove the religious symbol of the cross to make the flag fit the universe. These are flags created based on 1) Christianity 2) the Greek Revolution of 1821.

National Greek flag to the left, local Cretan flag to the right:

Flag of the KAOS' "Krete":

The only time they seriously took into account anything Greek, was the time when they decided to remove the religious symbol of our ethnoreligion AND (from what I could observe) keep the nine stripes?? The nine stripes of our national flag represent the syllables in "Freedom or Death". The colors are from the white foustanela of the mainland attire and the dark blue vraka of the island attire, the clothing of the Revolution fighters. (That's more of a meta explanation but the characteristics of the flag were decided during and nearly after the Revolution.)

I think I don't have to explain it more but it's not a homage to put the nine stripes in an ancient era where they have no meaning, and to replace a cross??? Let's... not replace religious symbols on national flags, okay? Thank you.

Another cultural element they changed was making everyone have a dedicated coin to pay Charon. Orpheus has Euridice's coin, "her coin", and he's meant to put it on her before she got buried. In Greek culture, any coin would do. Sorry that our culture restricts your script, dear writers. I guess you had to bend this too, in order to create a cohesive plot with a semblance of a twist.

Finally, the many "Kerberus" dogs were cute and I can understand the creative decision behind that. However, in a show full of inaccuracies, this made me roll my eyes a little. I think the showrunners know that Kerveros is not a breed of dog, and there can only be one of him because he doesn't have any other "Kerveros" to breed with. On the other hand, as demonstrated from art/writing on the internet, quite a lot of Westerners are not exactly aware of how our monsters work, so forgive my uncertainty 😅

Nothing is Anything

Every element KAOS played with ended up meaningless. In the words of a Lifo article:

“Zeus is a paranoid authoritarian dictator in mid-life crisis who fears losing his power and murders his aides to vent. Hera is a promiscuous goddess who repeatedly betrays Zeus and has mutilated mute priestesses for protection. Dionysos is a spoiled and immature zoomer who, apart from pranks, indulges in orgies with all genders. Poseidon a sadistic god of the sea, who tortures the crew on his ship for fun. Prometheus is gay and killed his lover so he could overthrow Zeus. Orpheus is a famous pop singer and Eurydice does not love him. Theseus is black and gay. The Erinyes are tough-as-nails mechs that look like they stepped out of ‘Sons of Anarchy’. The Fates resemble a three-member jury in a talent show. The Trojans are a terrorist group that acts against the gods. Crete is more reminiscent of California than the Mediterranean.”

The "River Styx" is a sea, the "River Lethe" is a lake, the gods are nothing more than spoiled humans, the Moirai are drag queens, the Cave is a club where you have to take a quiz to enter the underworld, and generally everything is modern, flat, mundane and anticlimactic. The producers aimed to achieve a work so meta that a "river" is now a concept, a metaphor, whatever you have in your heart. And those who want to see a river when we speak of a river are probably uncultured swines and don't understand postmodernism. Never mind that rivers are rivers in Greek mythology for a reason. That's not culturally interesting enough to explore compared to the new, cool approach of not assigning meaning to anything. That totally shows love for the original rich and meaningful material...

And the reason behind all this subversion? Probably the shock factor. They brought the characters to a point where they said "We have to save the world from Zeus" - Zeus! The father of gods, heroes and humans! - just because they could. It gives off a certain type of smugness that I personally don't like. I mean, I would like the smugness and cheekiness of KAOS if it wasn't a vapid and practically meaningless show. As nothing symbolizes anything anymore, we are just led from hollow plot point to hollow plot point.

If you cut it out of any cultural influence and see it as a story then it's... okay, I guess. But when you consider that it's meant to derive from certain material and it fails spectacularly, it's not a good story. It forgets its bases and doesn't play with the ancient elements at all. Disney's Hercules did it better, FFS!

Bad Writing (pt.1)

KAOS is not without recognizable themes but their demonstration is so juvenile and heavy-handed that it fails to influence a viewer of average intelligence. For instance, "Riddy" says to her religious mother "You dedicated your whole life to Hera, what about me?" Okay, KAOS, we get it. At the same time, this theme nulls itself because it turns out that Ridy's mother was right to do what she did, as she had a greater goal in mind. (And this, kiddos, is called Bad Writing, because your themes and scenes contradict each other)

The biggest theme I spotted was a criticism of religion and religious people who say "Do as I say, not as I do" and create exceptions for themselves. Only, it's not a criticism of anything real, in this case. It's a fact that some people in the clergy tend to preach peace and love and then they do harm, but we don't know, for example, that The Goddess of Marriage is a cheater and yet she pressures everyone into strict marriages. By focusing their wrath on divine beings who are not known for their hypocrisy, the creators missed the mark.

I can give KAOS props for how it handled Trojans to reflect real issues regarding how immigrants and war refugees are mistreated and blamed. I'd argue it was the only (nearly) well-done theme in the whole show because it had the least on-the-nose delivery and some genuine/serious scenes. But that's it.

More Bad Writing!

Jeff Goldblum's Zeus is shit. He'd crap his pants in an argument with a stern Greek dad/uncle his age. Is this character supposed to be intimidating? (Laughs in Mediterranean) That's not to say that Goldblum is not a good actor, but this role wasn't for him. The same can be said for the other actors, too. They are competent but they only give off the air of "The Greek gods if they lived in London, from the minds of people who think beards and body hair are an affliction". In addition to being misplaced, the actors cannot show their talent when following a script that resembles a children's book.

Why does THE GOD Dionysus have the maturity of a 15-year-old? I repeat, The God Dionysus. He's a freaking deity, and a very old one at that. He is not a teenager neither in appearance nor in experience. In our culture, he is mystical, mighty, wise. Why did they downgrade him so? Just for the plot? This is not Dionysus just because you named him so.

The dialogue rarely takes itself seriously to the point it has you wondering at times "Do people talk and behave like that?". In a comedy where everything is meant to be already extreme and parodied. Even in comedies, something must occasionally be serious so there is a healthy fluctuation in tone and the funny moments can hit you. In KAOS very few scenes treated their impactful dialogue as it should be treated.

The queerness and diversity (good elements, in general) were worse off for being in KAOS. Like, I want these elements to be there. I'm just sad about the whole situation. It's not enough that the show is shit, now you also give an additional reason for conservatives to shit on diverse and queer characters because they are part of a stupid narrative.

I'm the type of person who doesn't mind the queerness of Astyanax and Theseus being lovers in the context of this specific show but they're still the oddest pairing to me because they're from the most irrelevant myths and eras. Also, Astyanax in my mind is a baby who died tragically, for little reason if we are honest, so to bring him back and make him a love interest is... ekh.

In addition, isn't Astyanax supposed to be crippled after a fall from the city walls when he was a baby? Sorry to change subjects but the show is so convoluted and with so many issues that it's extremely difficult to stay on track with what's wrong.

To the person who thought this show was a good idea:

Whatever. Bye. I'm fucking done.

[lnfours]

sunshine | l.n

summary: morning phone calls prompt from this prompt list

warnings: fluff, language, crying bc i want him so bad !!!

masterlist | feel free to send in a prompt!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you regretted not shutting your blinds last night as the sun shone brightly through the windows of your bedroom. you huffed, rolling over onto your side to try to go back to sleep, but there was no use. it was too damn bright.

you threw the covers off your body, immediately missing the warmth from the blankets and your bed. you grabbed your phone off your nightstand and slipped your feet into the slippers you purposely left by your bed. a shiver traveled through your body as you made your way into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes before your phone buzzed on the counter.

you looked down, lando’s name lighting up your screen with a text.

you awake?

you tapped on the notification, typing back a response before starting to make yourself a cup of coffee. desperately needing the caffeine and the warmth.

just woke up.

you were stirring in the sugar when your phone buzzed and lit up again. another text from your boyfriend.

can i call?

you smiled at your screen, he always made sure to call you in the mornings whenever you two weren’t together. he loved waking up and hearing your voice on the other end of the phone, or seeing your face if he chose to facetime you.

sure, ready when you are :)

after a few seconds, his contact picture popped up on your screen. you took a minute to stare at the photo, a smile on your face as you remembered when you had taken it. it was a picture of him smiling, walking through the mtc with a shoebox in his arms. he had looked too good in the natural lighting for you not to snap a screenshot.

you slid the answer button over, smiling as you pressed the phone against your ear, “good morning,”

“g’morning,” his voice was raspy and you could tell he had woken up not long after you had, “how’d you sleep? any better than the night before?”

“not really,” you sighed, “i think i’m going to run to the store later and grab some melatonin or something. how’d you sleep?”

“slept hard,” he said, before continuing, “i could come with you to the store later,” he said, trying to mask his desperate desperate need to see you after spending a couple days apart, “gotta grab some things, too.”

you smirked, knowing he was just saying it to so that he would be able to see you, “oh yeah? like what?”

he hummed, “things,”

you laughed softly, “okay, i’ve got a meeting at 10. wanna go after?”

“sounds good,” he said.

there was rustling on his end and you could tell it was him getting out of bed, “want me to just drive us back to mine when we were done at the store?”

you placed your coffee on the table in front of you, tucking your legs under your body as you sat on the couch, “i’m good with that. means i don’t have to drive.”

you could hear the playful eye roll, “lazy bones,”

“you know it,” you said, swallowing a sip of coffee down before you continued, “oh! are we still going out with max and p tomorrow?”

“pretty sure, i’ll double check with max though.” lando said, a clinking of pans echoing through the phone. he was making breakfast.

you moved the phone from your ear to look at the time, “i gotta start getting ready for this meeting,” you sighed, “even though i really don’t want to.���

“you’ve got this,” he said back, “show ‘em how badass my girl is.”

you laughed, “i’ll text you when it’s over.”

“sounds good, baby,” his smile was evident, you didn’t even have to see it to know how bright it was, “knock ‘em dead, i love you.”

“i love you, too,” you smiled, “see you soon.”

“see you soon, love.”

you clicked the red button at the bottom of your screen, shaking your head with a slight laugh as you grabbed your mug and made your way into the bedroom.

mornings were slowly starting to become your favorite time of day.

[wonryllis]

★ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN AS KDRAMA LEADS AND THEIR LOVES.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen on the screen with you 𖥔 ݁ fluff, suggestive LIB? fem!reader requested word count `1715 PLS REBLOG!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ❝ they tried to take what was mine, so i will show them what i have. ❞ jang uk, alchemy of souls.

the forlorn hero cursed by fate to bear the weight of being the most powerful person in the world. and for one that withstands death and destiny; you are the light that embraces his shadows of darkness when he embarks on the path to save the world.

"you look pretty," heeseung eyes glance over your dolled up figure as he enters the room. "well no one's going to notice me anyway, they're all interested in your past lover," you scowl in an adorable pout that tingles heeseung's inner desires to eat you up. "that's why sit where everyone can see you, show them who my actual bride is," his fingers reach out to hold the side of your face in a gentle caress, gaze locked with yours, the atmosphere heaving with tension. "then i'm going to wear the family ornament," he hums inching closer,"then i'm going to tell them we get get along very well," he hums again, nose brushing against yours,"then i'm going to brag that you light up the path for me at nigh-" this time heeseung's lips find yours in a tender kiss, sucking softly almost in a nibble as he pulls away in a moment,"show me off however you want, i'm all yours," because he's sure you are his light in the dark.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ❝ even if other people say it is not, if you say it is love, then it is love. ❞ lee jun ho, extraordinary attorney woo young woo.

the secure and dependable soul who is left navigating through a love that confronts the pitifully vile sides of society. and for who wishes to be the one for you; you help his muddled worries come to the ultimate realization, to love and to fight for it till the end.

"jay, can i.. touch you?" jay is dumbfounded at your words, frozen at his spot for a momentary instance," he looks at you trying to avoid to his gaze,"i want to check whether i like you in that way," you clarify and jay curses his tainted mind for going places they absolutely should not be going. "oh, i see," it takes a few seconds for it all to sink in, and as soon as he does he's approaching you in a confident stride. "can you only check by touching me?" one step forward, one step back. "i need to see if my heart races—" caging you with your back against the couch, hands on each side,"so your heart doesn't race if we're not touching?" jay whispers, grinning at your eyes looking everywhere but him. "even when you're with me, doesn't your heart race?" his own heart pounds hard in his chest, just being with you has him weak,"that's disappointing," breathing fast as he leans in. you test him against all that he has ever known.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 ❝ does my dream have to be success? can't it be a person? ❞ nam do san, start up.

the ridiculously gifted and capable protagonist on his journey of growth, struggling between reality and dreams. and for one whom love, self worth and truth is conflicting; you provide an elysian abode of validation and acceptance of who he can be despite everything.

"a rainbow doesn't make your wish come true," jake smiles to himself, fiddling around with the pebbles at his feet,"it's just light reflecting and refracting," looking up he finds you staring at him in a sulk. "so you're not going to pray? because you don't believe in it?" your words are one of sorrow albeit you hardly sound upset and more in spirit of challenge. "there's no objective evidence," though he'll admit he'd take every chance he could to make a wish about you, even if it's superstitious. "let me show you then, evidence," you pull him by his collar into a messy, sloppy kiss, one that takes his breath away,"see, i prayed i'd kiss you and i did," his cheeks warm up at your bluntness,"you're the one who kissed me, the rainbow has nothing to do with it," "just the way liking you has nothing to do with reasons to like you, i like you because you're you, you're my reason" you make it so easy to fall in love.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ❝ even if my feelings for you make me insignificant and weak, you are my fate that i cannot defy. ❞ jung gu won, my demon.

the immortal infernal superbeing caught in a web of events that go against his very existence, piercing through the root of his beliefs. and for one whose emotions have been shut for the longest time; you open the doors of his hell, where his throne shines for you.

"is this what you're trying to get?" sunghoon's figure presses into your back as he reaches above you to bring down the book from the shelf,"my demon guide, really?" moving to the side he leans against the tall furniture, waving the heavy book in your face. your eyes fall to the exposed skin of his torso, toned chest and glistening abs, staying there a second too long,"ay ay ay, you pervert!" sunghoon immediately pulls his loose dress shirt together buttoning it up in a hurry as you look away. "why are you here anyway?" for once you have been the first to come to him. he feels something is wrong with him to be so elated over a mere thing like this,"i was just worried," you make him feel human, you make him feel vulnerable, you make him want to rewrite the stars with you. "about you," it is scary yet it feels like a kind of freedom that relieves him of a load he never knew he carried.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 ❝ if you really want to express something you will find a way. ❞ ha yi chan, twinkling watermelon.

the ever merry fellow, overflowing with a shinning soul and a sparkling heart, choosing to see only the bright side of everything. and for whom shortfalls have been a sign of misery; you show him a new world where flaws exist to give meaning to what you have.

"here, i got you a cat," sunoo gestures to the cat snuggling in his arms, getting closer to let you pet it. "i was worried you'd be bored alone," he speaks slow, moving his fingers just the way he practiced as you take the little fluffball from him,"i made sure to pick out a kitty that looked like me," he points and when your eyes crinkling into an adorable smile, sunoo feels all his efforts of learning to communicate with you to be fruitful. "a name based on your face?" he questions when you talk about naming the cat,"do you have a name like that too?" he never thought there'd be a time when he'd sit with you in the woods like this, talking in a language of your own as you taught him how to call out to you in a way only you two would understand. there was so much beauty in silence and he only realized it now,"that's a pretty name, i will call you by that from now," the simplicity of life he forget, you remind him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ❝ i'm a terrible liar and i don't have the ability to fool the one i love. ❞ kim do ha, my lovely liar.

the honest yet constantly condemned guy doing his best to fall back into the rhythm of life, having lost the last hopes of happiness. and for one who has always been doubted and criticised; you bring reason, to survive the dark into victory.

"lie to me," jungwon looks up from his bowl of soup, bewildered at what you ask of him,"what?" he mumbles slowly, trying to make sure he heard you right."just once please? try telling me i'm pretty," the insistent tone of your voice persuades docile jungwon to give in, brown eyes gazing at you in a dazed stare. one that lasts a little longer than a moment necessary,"you're pretty," and it's not a lie, you are so much more than just pretty in his eyes, it could never be a lie,"of course, i would say you're pretty," when jungwon looks at you he sees love in a new light, he sees all these positive emotions in a new light. in a light that gives him hope of escaping the hideous cage his mind has him trapped in. "because you really are pretty," he returns back to eating, trying to avoid the flush of butterflies he feels in just that one acknowledgement. it had been years since he felt them, such a normal emotion of love.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ❝ when you miss me, you can go to a bookstore and see me in a comic book. ❞ kang chul, w two worlds.

the tragic struck, defined by his past character thriving into a position of power and influence to uncover the truths of his comical life. and for one that battles against injustice, fictional between dimensions; you are the key to his long awaited peace.

"this one looks good on you, you should get it—" your hand slaps across riki's cheek in a snap making everyone in the room gasp in horror. to be hit like that out of the blue, riki should have been outraged, instead all he felt was confusion but not so much as to end the chapter. "what, is it?" he asks, his brows raised in question. "why am i getting slapped for buying you clothes?" stepping closer to you,"t-that, i'm sorry—"your lips crash against his for a fleeting moment before you rush off into the fitting rooms leaving everyone in shock. riki's fingers linger over the spot you kissed, feeling his heart skip multiple beats for some reason. you are pretty for sure, but you're also idiotic in way that attracts him out of pure amusement. he knows you don't belong here, and he knows it'll be reckless to try and find your world, but you make him feel there is a way out despite all obstacles and absurdities.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[peaktora]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒: 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊you and your daughter make breakfast for gojo’s birthday. unlucky for you, gojo’s a little impatient.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.3k words. established relationship. the reader is referred as “mommy” by the kid & “wife” from gojo, but other than that there’s no use of fem terms.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊ for the sake of this scenario everyone pretend it’s december 7th & it’s gojo’s birthday

you hold the bowl of pancake batter, its creamy consistency clinging to the sides. with a gentle tilt, you pour the batter onto the pan, creating round pools of golden goodness. the batter spreads, forming wonky circles that sizzle and bubble as they cook. the aroma of the pancakes fills the air, a tantalizing scent that promises a delicious breakfast. you can’t help but turn up the heat so that they cook faster.

“mommy, i think i’m turning into a minion,” your daughter calls out from behind.

you turn around, only to find her sitting at her mini table. her eyes are fixed on her tiny fingers, that are spread out in front of her.

“what do you mean?" your words hang in the air momentarily before you turn your gaze back to the stove. with a flick of your wrist, you flip the pancakes, their golden surfaces glistening in the warm light.

“’m turning purple! look!”

you take another glance back. her hands in the air being the first thing you see. but, then you notice the bag of blueberries sitting on the table.

your lips quiver as you fight to stifle your smile. “baby, it’s the the blueberries you’re munching on that are making you purple.”

her eyes widen, she lowers her hands, and this time she looks at them with a slight pout.

you return to making pancakes, plating the few that seemed to be done. one was on the verge of being burned, and you intended to give it to gojo. he's been calling you nonstop ever since you came downstairs this morning, asking for updates on his birthday breakfast. you're sure if it hadn't been for your baby girl (who insisted on giving her father breakfast in bed), you'd have forced him get up and do it himself by now.

"mommy, can we put blueberries in the pancakes? pretty please?”

“of course.”

you don’t need to turn around to know what your child is up to. you hear the unmistakable sound of her stuffing blueberries into her mouth. a soft giggle escapes your lips as you imagine the adorable scene unfolding behind you.

"yay!! speci...purpl...pancakes!" the excitement in her voice is evident, even with her mouth full.

"hey! if you're gonna be putting blueberries in the pancakes, you can't be eatin-" just then, your phone rings.

you catch a glimpse of the screen, noticing the familiar contact photo under 'my love'. oh, he's definitely getting a burnt pancake. you might even make another on purpose.

knowing he'll just ask about breakfast, you decide to watch it ring. he calls at least twice before his voice echoes through the house, urgently calling for his daughter to answer the phone. with blueberry-stained hands, she skips to the counter, reaching for your phone and answering it.

“hi daddy!” she waves in the camera.

“hi my sweet girl, what’s your momma doing?”

she turns the phone around, and through the camera, gojo can see you plating the remaining pancakes from the pan.

“those are the boring pancakes, mama’s making purple ones next!”

“can i have some of the boring ones first? i’m starving,” your husband whines.

“no, no, no! mama said you have to wait.”

“can i see that?” you fumble, trying to find a clean spot on your apron to wipe your hands off.

your daughters huffs at gojo, eager to hand over the phone and retreats to her table.

on the screen, you’re greeted by the sight of gojo’s smile and his relaxed, sprawled-out posture.

despite his sweet face, you hover your finger over the end call button anyway. “bye satoru.”

his smile drops. “that’s not even fair. it’s been—what—an hour?”

“with lots of breaks thanks to you.”

“you can talk to me and cook…bonus points for me being able to watch you.”

at that, you roll your eyes.

he frowns. "what?”

“a few more minutes of waiting won’t hurt.” you press the "end call" button, cutting off gojo’s pleads mid-sentence.

he’ll be fine.

you gently place your phone on the counter, shifting your focus to your little one. with a warm smile, you ask, "you wanna add the blueberries now, baby?"

"huh?" she mumbles, raising her head from where she was plucking at her fingers. "what did y’say?”

you playfully shake the bowl of leftover pancake batter in front of your face, capturing your daughter's attention. it's your way of letting your daughter in on the secret, a non-verbal cue to convey what exciting plan you have in store next. “you ready?”

"yes!" she runs towards you, giggling uncontrollably. in her hands, she's got the bag of half-eaten blueberries. the ones you specifically told her not to keep munching on, but she couldn't really resist. as she draws near, she extends her hands high into the air, a silent request for you to lift her onto the counter. without hesitation, your arms embrace your little one, effortlessly hoisting her up. in a matter of seconds, she’s perched on the counter.

you both scoop a handful of blueberries, and sprinkle the berries into the bowl of leftover pancake batter, watching as the vibrant blue jewels disappear into the mixture.

just as you two start to get lost in your pancake-making, a faint sound of footsteps echoes from upstairs. your girl’s eyes widen as gojo sluggishly descends the stairs, rubbing his eyes and tousling his hair.

for a split second, you manage to catch his attention. you raise your brow, wondering if he ever learned the basics of patience (or if he learned patience at all). but, true to his slow demeanor, he remains unfazed, maintaining his relaxed pace.

with a sleepy smile, he joins you at the kitchen counter, wrapping his hands around your middle. the feeling is pure warmth, like a human blanket. it's amazing how, even after so much physical contact, his touch manages to make you feel cozier with each touch.

you lean in closer to him, trying to catch what he whispered in your ear. "hm? what was that?"

“food?”

you sigh, “I wanted us to all eat it together. when it’s done?”

he groans and retreats, making a beeline for the ready-made pancakes. you catch his eye and shout, "uhn uh!"

as your daughter continues to drop blueberries in the bowl, you quickly place your hand over her lap to keep her steady. with your other hand, you tug on gojo's sleeve. you give him a gesture to come back, and he follows your lead.

“I’ll do it,” you say.

you head over to the counter where the finished pancakes are, and plate a single piece. as you bring it to him, you glance at the black crispy top and think, "I definitely should've made more of these."

you slide the plate in front of him, and your daughter cringes at the sight. “ta-da! happy birthday baby! since it’s a special day I tried a new recipe and…” you shrug.

gojo licks his lips, bites them, and lets out a breathy laugh. he keeps glancing at you and then the pancakes, repeating the sequence.

you nod your head and motion towards the food with an open hand. “I thought you wanted to eat?”

glancing cautiously at his daughter, he replies, “wow, babe. you really outdid yourself this time. burnt pancakes?” he turns to you. “and you said you were a ‘better cook’ than me.”

you ignore his comment. “maybe I should make these more often? I kn— “

“oh, absolutely. I mean, who needs fluffy, huge pancakes when you can have charcoal—“ he picks up the pancake, “discs?”

with your daughter's laughter in the background, it creates a unique blend. it adds charm to your conversation, despite the contrasting moods.

you cross your arms, “you should be proud I made them without shape cutters. pretty creative,” you pause. “now eat up.”

“there’s no way in hell y—“

“daddy has to put money in the swear jar!”

[emmasbrain]

Miscommunication (the fun kind) Part 2

This is part 2, trust when I say it makes very little sense without part 1.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Synopsis: You meet him for your date, but it’s cut a little short.

Warnings: None I can think of other than cringe writing.

A/N: This took ages man, I don’t know what happened but I just felt a block so many apologies for taking so long.

As you click the little green button, you feel unnecessarily nervous. “Hello.”

“Hi.” He replies, and the smile that graces your lips can be heard from the other end of the phone.

“Doc. I’m glad you called.” You try to play it cool, but you know he can sense your excitement anyway.

“I’m glad you asked me to. Look, I’m on my way to a case right now, but I was thinking that when I get back we could do something? Go for dinner, maybe?” He sounds as nervous as you feel, and your heart spikes a little.

“Dinner sounds great. Have you thought of a place?” You do a little spin in the living room of your small apartment and you hear chatter in the background of the call.

“There’s this little restaurant that I normally get takeout from. I know them pretty well so they’ll keep me a table on short notice. They’ve got everything so statistically there’s bound to be something you like.” The way he speaks reaches a spot in your brain, fast and passionate, even about the most mundane things.

“I know I’m gonna like it because you do, and I trust your taste.” You bite your lip, wondering if that was too much.

“You should, I’m very particular.” His voice betrays the fact that he’s grinning, and you match his expression.

“I like particular. Particular is good.” Your voice has dropped a little subconsciously, and he’s about to reply when you hear the familiar voice of Agent Hotchner alerting Spencer that they need him.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you when I’m home?” You almost sigh in contentment at just the sound of him, but you snap out of it quickly to reply.

“I’ll be waiting patiently, Doc. I’ll see you.” You hang up, and stand in the middle of your living room for what seems like an hour but truly is only a few minutes. Why are you so attracted to this guy you only met a few nights ago?

But you feel as though you know him, from the way Penelope has talked about him, from the time you spent together. You feel as though you know them all.

—

You just sent in the final draft of your latest article. This one had been an absolute nightmare, being asked to write a piece on climate change. Your editors loved you for your fresh takes, but after so long there was no angle on climate change that hadn’t already been written. They seem fairly happy with it, but you can’t help the nagging feeling of wishing you could have done the proposed piece on how tourism is ruining the economy like you had wanted.

Through the annoyance of knowing you could have done better, you still feel slightly more at ease knowing the article is finished and out of your hands, and that you can relax and drink your fourth mug of coffee for the day. It’s eleven am.

But as you stand to stretch your achy muscles and make some fresh coffee, your phone rings. You know who it is before you even pick up, but make sure to check anyway just in case.

‘Spencer’ flashes on your screen, and you immediately sit down on your sofa, hitting the answer button and taking a readying breath.

“Hey Doc.” Your voice is unintentionally airy, but he doesn’t seem to notice - or he pretends not to - as he replies.

“Hey. I got back from work late last night, but I didn’t wanna call in case you were asleep. I was just wondering what you had planned for tonight?” The grogginess in his voice is evident, and it raises a question before you can even think about answering his.

“Spencer, how long ago did you wake up?” The simple question makes him go quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“I woke up just before I called you.” He sounds nervous to admit it, like he’s embarrassed to be caught thinking of you so soon into his day.

“Must have been thinking about me in your sleep then. And to answer your question, I’m free tonight.” You can’t hide the tinge of satisfaction knowing he thought about you maybe as often as you thought about him.

The small breath he sucks in doesn’t pass by you. You may not be a behavioural analyst but you are a damn good journalist, and you know what that little breath means. It says “you caught me”. Was he really thinking of you in his slumber? You note it down in the back of your head to try and slip out of him later.

“Would you like to go for dinner to that restaurant tonight?” He seems to have composed himself as he asks his question, and you try not to sound too enthusiastic as you eagerly say yes. “Okay, great- that’s great! I’ll pick you up at six… I don’t drive.” The defeat in his voice makes you laugh.

“How about I pick you up?” You suggest, calming his nerves. “You can tell me where to go.” Truthfully, you had already planned to drive him. Penelope told you once how he doesn’t drive, and you called her two days ago to reconfirm. This information, however, is not something you feel the need to tell him, because it seems a little obsessive - but you were just thinking logically of course - and you don’t want to weird him out quite so early.

He seems to be okay with the idea, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t take it as a blow to his ego like most men would. The call ends after a few short pleasantries - that are actually pleasant - and you immediately get to work.

You throw open the doors of your wardrobe and go straight to the dresses, very slowly narrowing it down to two options. A flowy red dress that you almost go with, and a simple black silk dress that ends just below your knees.

This one is for special occasions, and you deemed this a pretty special occasion. As you rummage through your box of shoes and stack of earrings trying desperately to find earrings and heels in the same colour, you come across a pair of purple strapped heels that you know you have drop earrings in a similar shade to. You just can’t find them.

Suddenly you notice that it’s 12:30 and your brain short circuits. Your entire room is thrown upside down and inside out until you find the earrings you’re looking for, and then neatly arranged back to its original state, all within thirty minutes. Now you have your little purple dewdrops and your outfit is complete, but you have four and a half hours until you need to leave and you know you’ll need it, albeit mostly to panic.

Four hours passes and you’ve showered, shaved, styled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your nail polish is just dry and you have your dress on, so you buckle your heels and stand. Twenty five minutes before you can leave. That’s not bad. You just have to wait twenty five minutes… But what if traffic is bad? You should probably leave fifteen minutes early for that, right? And if you think about it, the time between leaving your house and getting to the car wasn’t considered in the time it would take you to get there, and if you drag it out that’s a good five minutes. So really you only need to leave in five minutes. But what’s the point of waiting five minutes really? You should just leave now. Good idea.

As you park at his apartment building you realise you may have been a little over eager. The drive was ten minutes shorter than expected, so you’re around thirty minutes early. Which is embarrassing, so to speak. But you decide to head up early, a gut feeling telling you that it’ll be beneficial.

As you knock, he immediately opens the door and then a sheepish look comes over his face. “I saw you get out of your car.” He nervously rubs his hand on the back of his neck and it makes you smile. Then you take in his attire. He looks similar to when you met him in the bar, although he’s wearing white converse to match a white shirt underneath his brown suit. He’s also sporting a watch, and - most importantly - glasses. Damn those fucking glasses.

You realise you haven’t responded and are now intensely looking at his eyes, and he looks a little uncomfortable.

“Shit- sorry. I was just looking at you- I mean you look good- Great! You look great. You look… pretty. I like your glasses, do you wear them often?” Although you can feel yourself rambling into oblivion, you somehow can’t stop the flood of words that come out of your mouth.

His mouth opens for a moment as though he might speak, and then it shuts again. He stands aside to let you come in. “I never let you in.” He comments, sounding apologetic.

You shake your head in reassurance. “That’s alright, I wasn’t sure if you would even be ready since I’m so early. I never meant to be, I just kind of over thought it and now I’m here.” You wring your fingers together. Spencer noticed that you do it as a nervous habit when you met in the bar.

“I was ready an hour ago, I’ve just been reading while I waited for you. You can sit.” He motions to his sofa, and you sit next to the armrest so that you can turn and lean your back against it to face him sitting a little away from you. “You look beautiful. You remind me of a painting called ‘Madame X’, you probably know it. You could almost be a modernised retelling. Did you know that the painting caused an extreme public discourse as people thought the artist, John Singer Sargent, made the woman look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed.” He says all this with a little grin, and you can’t help but grin along with him.

The decision to tease him comes before you can truly think about it. “You think I look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed, Doc?” As the words come out of your mouth, he pales slightly.

“No, of course not! You remind me more of the principle. The woman was so beautiful she was renowned for her looks. Painters had all but begged her to do a portrait before, but she declined until she found Sargent. But even then, the people of Paris thought the painting didn’t do her beauty justice. Despite this, the painting became famous and beloved for hundreds of years around the world, and to this day is still considered a work of true historical art. A timeless beauty. That’s how I think you look.” His passion for little things shines through again, and your mouth is left slightly agape from his words.

“That was…” You can’t even think.

“A lot, I know. I tend to ramble a lot. I don’t really notice that I’m bothering people until it’s too late.” He rubs the back of his neck again, and the thought of people being bothered by him sends multiple emotions running down your spine.

You reach over and grab his hand with one of yours, the other going to touch his face. “I was going to say, that was awfully considerate of you. Never assume that you’re bothering me. Talk quite literally as much as you please, I want to know what you want to say… If we weren’t on our first date I’d readily teach you exactly how much I enjoy when you talk, but that can be saved for another time, maybe.” Your voice drops nearer the end, and he picks up on it as he sucks in a breath and nods vigorously.

“Definitely- I mean yes, sure. I will keep that in mind.” He’s still nodding as you smile at him, a proper smile.

“You’re pretty when you get flustered. You get all red, from the tops of your cheeks all the way down your neck.” You silently wonder if it goes further. You wish you could check. The hand on his face trails down his neck as you speak, emphasising what you mean.

He gets redder. How can he get redder? “Pretty. You’ve used that word on me twice now.” The comment seems to be more of an observation than a question, but you answer it as though it is one.

“I think you’re pretty. Handsome is a word I dislike. It reminds me of Ken, like Barbie and Ken. You’re not a doll, you’re a man, who just so happens to be pretty. I could call you beautiful instead, I’d say that adjective very accurately describes you too. Gorgeous, if that’s something you prefer.” You relent as the redness gets impossibly worse, and it makes you feel a little guilty. “Sorry, Doc, I just like seeing you flustered. I’ll call you handsome or something more masculine if you’re more comfortable with that.” You give him a little smile and pull your hand from his face.

He wouldn’t say it out loud but he wishes you would keep it there. He grasps your other hand tightly in his, and he shakes his head. “I don’t mind. You can call me whatever you feel like… You’re wearing purple. Purple is my favourite colour.” He looks away for a moment, and it warms your heart.

“Purple suits you, as a favourite colour I mean. Mine is green.” Your voice holds a gentleness in it that comes with caring for someone. It’s baffling. You’ve known him days. A week at most. You shouldn’t feel so… warm around him.

“Green makes sense. I think purple looks best on you though, which is definitely coming from a place of bias.” This makes you laugh, small and breathy, but he smiles at the sound.

You don’t realise how much time has passed until you hear a buzzing noise, and you both realise it’s a phone ringing. It’s coming from the other room so you assume it’s Spencer’s and he quickly gets up to answer. You can’t hear much from the wall between you, but when he comes back through looking thoroughly disappointed, you can tell it’s a work call. “Serial killers don’t stop for first dates sadly.” You remark, and he looks a little surprised.

“How did you know?” He questions, coming closer to you and you stand up to face him.

“I may not be a behavioural analyst, but I can tell what that face means. It means ‘I’m so sorry but I have to go stop murders’.” You smile to try and reassure him, but you can see the cogs whirring in his brain.

He seems to be thinking too many thoughts to process, but suddenly he dips down and kisses you. It’s short, but it’s soft, and you have a look of surprise on your face as he pulls away. “I wish we had gotten to go on our date, but I really wish that this doesn’t stop us from going on another one.” He looks at you in anticipation, and you melt.

“I wouldn’t pass it up for the world, Doc. Why don’t you go get ready and I’ll drive you there. We can plan the next one in the car.” You kiss his cheek and go to sit back down, and he shuffles away to his bedroom with a stupid smile tugging at his lips.

A/N: So… thoughts on part 3 with newly established relationship reid x reader ? Equally, thoughts on me adding smut somewhere along the line?

[raconteur-wanpi]

OK, let's talk eyebrow theory a bit.

I've seen a lot of posts on eyebrow theory, and there's probably other people who've expressed it better than me but I'd like to get my thoughts out just in case.

Anyway, eyebrow theory posits that, the direction of the Vinsmoke children's eyebrows showcases whether and which augmentations are/were successful on them. This is mostly based on the fact that Sanji's left eyebrow (our screen right) flips direction when he activates the "full power" of his mutation (or the "power of love", as he calls it).

Now as far as the rest of them go, some notes; For Reiju and Ichiji, this hasn't been 100% confirmed, and if somebody can find those 3D model screenshots again, I'd really appreciate that, since I don't remember what they were ripped off of! But even excluding those, there are a lot of panels in the manga (and anime screenshots) where it's pretty clear, despite their hair being in their way, that their eyebrows actually do have this symmetry, unlike their other three brothers. Also point to be made, that the swirls themselves are just something they all got from their father, and it's rather the strange directions they face toward that seems to be the result of the modifications.

Now for Ichiji, there is an inconsistency in how the edges of his eyebrows are drawn; there are a few cases where it matches Niji and Yonji, but whether that's a mistake or whether he "flips" like Sanji does, is unknown. It is interesting though, that the 3D model does indeed have him match with Reiju (again, please if somebody can find those again it'd be stellar).

That being said, a specific element of the theory is that their left eyebrow represents the body modifications, while their right eyebrow represents their emotional/brain modifications. If that's the case, than it'd suggest that Sanji's flip is only actually happening on his left eyebrow, the uncovered one that we get to see. This would make him match up with Reiju, which makes sense, since at the moment he is most like her, only having the body modifications with intact emotions. We can't actually know for sure until we get to see both at the same time during one of his flips.

This does, however, imply a lot of things about Ichiji if it were true, which doesn't really have any other evidence to it, but it sure is interesting to consider. Maybe Ichiji, like Sanji, isn't "consistent" and he experiences mutations, as a result of Sora's actions affecting more than just one child. He is easily the coldest and one of the cruelest of the quadruplets, but could that be him overcompensating and hiding? Perhaps that's wishful thinking, but I would genuinely find it very very intriguing if it were true!

EDIT: Here's the post with image additions, including the 3D models.

[devilat-thedoor]

Smile Pretty 2

A/N: it’s been quite some time since i put anything out. and i know this probably isn’t what most people are hoping for from me, but i simply couldn’t stop thinking about this. (half credit to my sun, liana fr, because she multiplies my brainpower by 76000000. so. HUUUUUGE shoutout to @stardustvanfleet and @jakesguitarsolo for being my favorite people ever and offering a never ending stream of jake thoughts. i love you both endlessly and you don’t even understand how much i appreciate you🩵

Word Count: 4.2k

Jake x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI(Oral[f rec], Unprotected Sex, Spit, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Power struggle???, a bit of praise, teensy bit of cumplay, Camera Use, very light impact play) if there was anything i may have missed, please do not hesitate to tell me!

Making your way down the corridor, you watched the room numbers as you went, searching for 623. Tour had started a month ago and you hadn’t seen Jake since the day he left; you were supposed to visit him a week ago, but your work schedule got messed up and you couldn’t make the trip. He was disappointed and you swore you’d make it up to him, but what he didn’t know is that you’d already arranged new plans and, with Josh’s help, you were currently strolling down the hallway of their hotel to surprise your boyfriend. You stopped in front of his door, flipping the keycard through your fingers and shaking out your nerves. Holding the card up to the reader, you paused, leaning in to press your ear against the door. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth at what you were hearing; a series of grunts and groans that were unmistakably Jake’s…but there were other sounds too. More moans, quieter than his, but they were feminine. He’s watching porn?

You pressed the keycard to the door and listened to the confirming beeps before pushing it open. Jake was shifting fast, all but tossing his phone across the room as he yanked a pillow over his legs to cover the evidence of whatever he was doing. “Goddammit, Josh. Just because you have the extra key doesn’t mean- Shit…” His eyes went wide when you stepped into his view.

“Surprise…” You couldn’t hide the smirk on your lips as he gazed at you like a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Closing the door, you dropped your bag to the floor and took a few steps toward the bed, “Did I interrupt something, baby?” You stopped when your knees hit the edge of the mattress and crossed your arms over your chest to stare at him with an eyebrow raised.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before taking a second to swallow back the odd anxiety that seemed to rise in him. “I’m just…surprised…to see you. Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming? I- uhhh. I would’ve planned for dinner or something.” He was slowly sitting up straighter but the pillow remained in his lap. “Actually, dinner sounds great, I’m sure we can find something quick…Can you- I should grab a quick shower before we go…Will you start the water for me, babe?” You would’ve gone along with Jake’s poor attempt at a subject change had he not kept glancing at his phone, laying face down at the bottom of the bed. He watched your head turn slowly, your eyes landing on the device as you chewed on your lip, and tried to bring your attention back to him. “Hey! Danny said something about a great Mexican place not too far from here… Supposedly they have, like, award winn…ing…” His voice trailed off as you mindlessly nodded your head, your arms falling to your side.

“Uh huh…” You lunged for his phone and he tried to snatch it up before you but it was too late. Your fingers curled around it and you rolled off of the bed and scurried across the room, “What were you watching, Jake?” You illuminated the screen and typed his passcode in as he clambered out of the bed, trying desperately to tuck away the obvious tent in his tight boxers. “Everybody watches porn, Jacob. Why are you being so secretive? Is it like- OH GOD… Is it kinky shit?” You chuckled as the screen opened up to whatever he was watching and you clicked the play button.

“Babe, let me just-.” He reached for the phone but you held your finger up and twisted out of his reach.

You were speechless as you tried to comprehend what you were watching. “Oh…Oh…” Met with an image that you were quite familiar with, you glanced at Jake and back to the phone. It was the little film project that you two had made before he left and you’d almost forgotten about it until now. “Jake-.”

He cut you off, reaching for the phone again, “Okay, just shut it off.” A huff of frustration escaped him when you ducked beneath his arm and moved to the opposite side of the room. “C’mon. Would you just- turn it off, babe.” He was coming after you again, but you stayed planted in place, your eyes glued to the screen as a grin stretched over your face.

“No… I haven’t even got to watch this yet. How many times have you watched it?” You met him with an accusatory expression and he dropped his gaze to the floor. “...thought so… Let’s watch together.” You shrugged as you kicked your shoes off and climbed onto the bed, resting against the headboard. When he didn’t follow suit, you paused the video and patted the space beside you that he was occupying when you’d arrived. “Come on. We made it together, we can watch it together…Baby, come sit down and watch the fucking sex tape with me.” You whined through your giggles as you tapped the bed again.

Jake finally relented, heaving out a sigh, and climbed onto the bed to settle in alongside you. “You don’t think it’s weird to sit and watch ourselves fuck?” He took the phone from your hand and scrolled the bar the whole way to the beginning before looking at you.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, “I think you’re being weird… What was the point of making it if we weren’t gonna- Wait. Do you just…not want me to watch it? Because you obviously have… More than once.” You turned to face him completely, awaiting a response.

“I like watching you, angel…” He spoke genuinely, grasping your hand in his. “No cliche porno could ever compare to what you do. So yeah… I’ve watched it a few times.”

You could feel the heat spreading across your cheeks at his admission. “Baby….” Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, dragging a hand along his thigh. He was leaning further into you, anticipating the path that your fingers were taking, but you stopped before they could reach his boxers and pulled back from the kiss with a teasing smirk. “Press play, Jake.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he let out a frustrated huff before complying with your request. Snuggling in closer to your boyfriend, you viewed quietly, watching yourself on the screen as you strutted towards the camera, peeling your robe off. “Wow…my tits look fucking great.” Jake had a hand resting on your leg, giving a gentle squeeze in agreement to your statement. You bit down on your lip at his dialogue in the video as you smiled up at the lens and began to stroke him, “You’re never that bold when we’re just having sex…” It was a thought that tumbled from your lips and made him turn to you.

“What does that even mean? I’m not bold?” He paused the video and put his phone on the nightstand. “I’m fucking bold… Don’t act like I don’t make you cum every time we fuck, you know I do.”

You took notice of how he began to breathe a little harder as a note of irritation radiated from him. “Baby, that’s not what I’m saying… I just mean that-.” You thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain what you meant, when an idea struck you. “I don’t know, Jake. I mean, yeah… The sex is always good, don’t get me wrong, but-.”

He cut you off abruptly, “But what?” He watched you bite your lips together with a shrug and he stood from the bed, “No. What the fuck were you gonna say? The sex is always good, but what?” Jake was growing more irritated with each second of silence that passed but you were keen to the stiff bulge in his boxers and decided to press a little harder.

“It’s just kind of…boring. Or- What’s the word they use? Vanilla.” It took everything in you to keep your laughter down as his eyes practically turned red. “Jake. Baby, it’s fine… I don’t need exciting sex.” You climbed off of the bed then, turning your back to him with the fear that you wouldn’t be able to keep up your act, “The way you do things is…alright…I guess.” When you turned around to look at him again, he was fuming. You had him right where you wanted him and a flood of arousal rushed to your panties at the dark expression he wore. His nostrils were flaring, chest rising and falling rapidly with angry huffs, but he remained quiet. “Uhh. I have to pee.” You offered him an innocent smile before scurrying into the bathroom and locking the door behind you. The look on his face was one that you didn’t see very often but knew very well and it made you clench your thighs together in need. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you tried to prepare for what could happen when you eventually walked out of the bathroom. Would he be angry with you and give you the silent treatment? Or… Would he try to prove you wrong? You knew Jake was nowhere near vanilla, but teasing him was always the fastest route to the best sex with him. But…did you take it too far this time?

You took one last steadying breath and unlocked the door to step out of the bathroom. With no time to register what was happening, Jake had his hand loosely wrapped around your throat with your back pinned to the wall, an amused smirk on his face at the way you gasped in surprise. “You think you’re so goddamn smart, huh?” He leaned in close, his nose pressing into your cheek as he dropped his voice to a whisper, “If you wanted me to treat you like a whore, no-… My sweet little cumslut, right?” He chuckled condescendingly as you whimpered at his degrading names, squeezing your legs tighter. “Ask nicely, angel… You don’t have to be a fucking brat to get what you want, understand?” Releasing your throat, he watched as you nodded your head obediently. “Good girl… Take your clothes off and put your palms flat on the mattress.”

Complying immediately, you shredded every piece of fabric from your body and paused to look at him, “Jake, I-.” You shut your mouth when he shook his head silently and pointed towards the bed. Making the short walk, you were vibrating with anticipation at what was about to come. You could feel Jake getting closer as you bent down, placing your palms atop the warm duvet. His hand was on your ass in an instant, ghosting up over your spine and back down to caress your thigh before settling on your lower back. Everything was still for a moment and you almost opened your mouth to question until his free hand came down hard on your asscheek. “Fuck!” You cried out, mostly from the shock of it, but there was a slight sting left in the wake of his palm.

“So you think I’m vanilla?” He was rubbing his hand up and down your inner thigh when you began to stutter out an answer, but his touch left you at loss, unable to utter a response, and that wasn’t good enough for him. Jake reeled his hand back, delivering another slap; this time to the spot he was just pampering. “Words, angel. Use them.” He paused for a moment to admire the way you began panting and shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. “Tell me again about how boring I am.”

A shiver rippled through your body as he bent down to whisper in your ear, but you managed to keep a small bit of composure. “I- I don’t know, Jake… There’s just…a lack of excitement…” You swallowed the lump in your throat and tilted your head to look at him.

“A lack of excitement, huh?” He was grinning wide as he straightened back up and exited your line of sight. “See… now I know you’re lying-” He disappeared suddenly; his touch gone, you couldn’t see him in your peripherals. Just as you began to say his name, you felt him. His large hands gripping your ass and thighs to slip a thumb through your slick folds. “-because if there’s no excitement, your pussy wouldn’t be dripping like this.” 

“Jake, please…” You weren’t entirely sure what you were pleading for but you couldn’t stop. “Please don’t tease me… I missed you so fucking much.” You were whining as you pushed back against his hands.

Jake chuckled, clearly amused at your desperation, “Needy little thing… What do you want from me, sweet girl?” His voice was saccharine sweet, tinged with a bit of something else. Mischief, maybe?

You contemplated begging on your hands and knees until a better idea struck you. “Well, baby… Prove to me just how bold you can be.”

A low growl rumbled out from behind you, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, I’ll fucking show you…” His hand weaved through your hair, grabbing a healthy fistful as he pulled you up from the bed. You could feel the heat emanating from him as he held your back flush against his chest to speak, “Let’s see if you can keep up, angel.” In a flash, he was shoving you back down, making sure your chest was pressed into the mattress before he released you. He knelt down behind you, spreading you open to spit directly onto you. The feeling of his spit dripping from your cunt made you shudder but he didn’t give you much time to process as he burrowed his face between your thighs. Jake’s tongue lashed rapidly at your clit before he tightened his lips around the bud.

“Jesus, Jake! Wh- Fuck…” You clawed at the fluffy, white comforter, crying out shamelessly as he devoured you. It didn’t take long for your legs to begin trembling at the way his tongue slipped through your folds and his nose nudged your entrance. You were toeing the edge of a cliff, awaiting your fall with one final push from him, “Don’t stop… Don’t you dare fucking stop, Jacob. I- Oh God, please! I’m g-. What the hell, Jake!” You whipped around to glare at him, your chest heaving and knees weak, but he was standing up from the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He was grinning wide, showcasing his perfect teeth, when you stood straight to meet him face to face. Just as you started to scold him, he gripped your jaw, smashing his lips against your own and pushing his tongue into your mouth. When he broke the kiss, he spun you back around, pressing his covered erection against your ass, “You thought I was gonna let you cum that quick? After all the shit you talked?” He cackled loud and the sound lit a new kind of fire in your blood. Jake was sure he had you at his mercy and you used that to your advantage, forcing out a weak whimper. “Awwe… don’t whine, baby… If you want something, all you have to do is tell me. Use your words. Remember?” He was sliding his boxers off as he spoke.

You could hear the smirk in his tone and that’s when you made your move. Faster than the speed of light, you whipped around, catching Jake by his throat, and flipped him onto the bed. It was clear he was caught off guard by the way he began to stammer. You pulled the boxers from his ankles before crawling over him, “What’s the matter, Jakey baby? Did you forget how to use your words?” Giggling at his scowl, you sat on his chest, keeping his arms pinned beneath your knees. “I think it was a little rude, that stunt you pulled before… Don’t you think?” You kept your voice sweet, pouting your lip at him.

“I think you deserved it.”

“Hmm… I see.” You scooted further up his torso, making sure he couldn’t wiggle his arms out from under you. “How about you make me cum with that mouth that you love to run so much…and maybe I’ll see if you deserve a reward afterwards, hmm?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow at you in challenge, “Sure, angel… Won’t take too long anyways.”

The look he was giving you made butterflies erupt in your stomach as you began to settle over his mouth, slowly lowering yourself. “If you say s- SHIT!” The second his tongue made contact with your sensitive clit, your eyes were rolling. You gripped tightly onto his hair as you started to rock against his face, “Oh- Oh fuck…” There was no doubt that he knew exactly how to use his mouth and that was evident by the way he had you quickly unraveling atop of him. You tried your hardest to hold yourself together, but Jake had managed to slip himself lower so that his tongue was prodding at your entrance. He groaned into your cunt before he began thrashing his head back and forth, his nose flicking repeatedly over your clit. “Jake, I- I’m-...” Your words trailed off into a series of moans as your legs started to shake and close around his head. He didn’t slow down in the slightest and if his hands were free, he’d have you pinned down to his mouth, making sure he got every bit of your orgasm out of you before you could move… But he wasn’t in control and once the overstimulation hit, you scrambled off of his face and sat back on his chest as you fought to catch a breath.

He rubbed his palms up and down your thighs to try to stop their trembling. The touch was so sweet and affectionate, but the moment didn’t last long. “How about you quit pretending like you’re holding the reins and let me take over again, beautiful?”

“Baby, if you want the reins, you gotta take ‘em.” You flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile and when he began to respond, you reached behind you to wrap your hand around his stiff cock. Holding eye contact with him, you started to stroke him slowly, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. “I’m sorry, Jake… Were you gonna say something?” Everytime he opened his mouth, you squeezed him a little tighter to make his breath catch. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He was glaring up at you as you removed your hand to maneuver your body over his throbbing length. “And you said I love to run my mouth? You’re a goddamn tease.”

Your hand shot out to grasp his jaw, “I may be a tease, but I always give you what you want in the end, don’t I?” As your sentiment concluded, you sunk onto him; your mouth hung open and Jake subconsciously mimicked your expression as he held onto your waist. Once he was buried completely inside of you, your head dropped back, “Hmm… so fucking thick, baby…” After a moment of adjustment, you leaned down to peck his lips, catching his bottom one between your teeth with a moan and pulling before allowing it to snap back.

He stared at the point where your bodies connected as you raised slowly and dropped back down. “Ride it like you fucking own it, angel.” Jake commanded through husky breaths and the sound of his voice made you clench around him. Anchoring your hands on his chest, you took his words to heart and began bouncing, adding a slight twirl to your hips with every drop. “There you go- fuuuuck. Just like that…” He slid his hands from your waist to grab a handful of your ass before resting them at your hips.

The sound of your skin smacking together echoed off the walls, only overshadowed by Jake’s husky groans and your heavy breaths, as you rode him. You were focused on his face, the look of pure ecstasy he wore as his eyes continuously fluttered shut, “You like that, Jakey?” Slowing your movements, you opted for a change. Leaning back, you placed your hands on his thighs behind you for leverage and started to rock against him. When his mouth dropped open and he began bucking up into you, a smile formed on your face. “You like when I fuck you like this, Jake?” Your voice was sultry and low, “When I claim your fat cock like this, hmm?”

Just as you found a steady rhythm, his grasp on your hips tightened and he flipped you off of him to quickly climb over you. “Such a mouthy little whore, huh?” He moved so fast that you didn’t stand a chance in fighting for your dominance. He had your ankles on his shoulders as he leaned down, effectively pressing your knees into your chest, “You just got too goddamn cocky…” Jake slammed back into you, filling you up entirely as you cried out and grabbed blindly at his arms and clamped your eyes shut. He immediately grabbed your chin with one hand while he cupped your cheek with the other, “Nuh uh. Open those eyes and fucking look at me… I wanna make sure you know who makes you fucking cum like this, angel.” His thrusts were unrelenting, hitting the sweetest spot inside of you, and when you finally managed to pry your eyes open to stare into his large brown ones, he drew his hips back and dove back in with an impossibly deep stroke.

“J- fuck. Jaaake….” His name clambered out of your mouth in a mess of broken whimpers as your legs began to shake around his head. “Oh my God! FUCK, Jake!” Your nails dug deep into his forearms as he held your head steady and continued pounding into you, fucking you through your second climax.

“That’s it, sweet girl… Say it again. Let everyone know who makes your pussy cry, angel…” He gave a short, condescending chuckle as you breathlessly muttered his name for a third time. “That’s my good girl…” Suddenly he pulled out, letting your legs down, and turned you over onto your stomach. You were too dazed, stuck in a fucked-out fog, to question. But he slipped back into you to chase his own release, “You want me to fill this sweet cunt, pretty girl?”

You could feel your eyes going crossed as you clawed at the thick comforter beneath you, “Yes- fuck…” The pressure was building again, faster than the last two times and you began to beg, “Please, Jake… I want it, baby… Need you so fucking- bad.” Your moans were growing louder and drawing him closer to the brink.

He pressed a palm flat to your back to pin you against the mattress and fucked into you with hard, punctuated thrusts. “You want it, angel? I’ll fucking give it to you… Sounds so pretty when you beg for my cum.” His voice was strangled, groans vibrating from somewhere within his chest and you offered one last plea that sent him over the edge. Jake buried himself deep, a single ‘oh fuck’ leaving his lips before you felt him empty his sticky release inside of you, the feeling bringing you to a third and final orgasm. He was hunched over your back for a moment as he caught his breath, but when he finally pulled out, he flipped you back over and pushed your legs apart. Watching him through droopy, exhausted eyes, you heard him click his tongue a few times before he was dragging a finger over your folds, your body shivering at the contact. “Fucking begged for it and the little cumslut can’t even hold it all in… Feels a little disrespectful to waste, hmm?” He pondered to himself as he gathered his dripping seed with two fingers and pushed it back into your pussy. The overstimulation had you trying to squeeze your legs shut, but it didn’t stop him from finger fucking his cum back into you, “Aht… Almost done, angel…” When he removed his digits, he held them up to your mouth and you welcomed them happily, lapping the mix of release from them.

He finally collapsed beside you, allowing you to roll over and cuddle against him with a lazy smile, “Okay, I take it back, baby… You’re pretty fucking bold. Jesus Christ, that was…” You trailed off, giving him a soft kiss.

His hand rubbed gently up and down your back as a cocky grin began to stretch across his face. He pointed behind you, “Thank you, beautiful… but can you say that one more time to the camera?” You lifted your head to see his phone set up against the lamp on the nightstand. “Or that one…” He pointed to the dresser on the opposite side of the room where he had your phone set up to capture a different angle.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You sat up to glare at him, trying to hide your own grin.

He simply shrugged, “Now you can watch it as much as I will.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows before pulling back down for another kiss.

.

.

.

.

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lil taglist for friends i think may enjoy this😌

@ignite-my-fire @gvfpal @mybussyinchrist @ageofbajabule @klarxtr

[prodbyton]

Also!!! Do you have any recent pervert/loser Sohee thoughts swimming around in ur head that you would like to share with the class 🫵🏾🤨? Honest to god I never saw the appeal in that trope until I found ur blog PLEEK I think u and that other anon changed my brain chemistry a bit. I love the thought of down bad Sohee ghfdhjf it’s very pleasing to my brain I wanna eat him so bad. Pathetic and perverted Sohee is so real and I would be just as pathetic and perverted for him too. I’m nasty he nasty we chocolate chip cookies

—🍓

adding these two tg hehe

cw. dubcon ?? , sohees icky , +18 mdni

think of sohee as the boy you have to tutor before finals… how convenient that his worst subject is your best, and he’s attracted to the fact that you’re so smart…

sohee is a bit weird from what you’ve heard from others, and honestly when he came up to you after class you were a little skeptical about tutoring him, but you said yes because he was nearly begging and you have a hard time saying no. also he was super cute, how weird could be be?

so you’re in his dorm, sitting at his desk trying to explain the material in a way that he can understand. but he’s not paying attention, not when you were so close to him, not when if he looked just slightly off the screen of your laptop he could see down your shirt, not when your lips that were perfectly glossed and plump were so tempting and kissable, not when he wished that your hand on your thigh was his hand instead.

“do you think you can answer this question on your own?”

he’s snapped out of his thoughts when your tapping his shoulder, words booming through his ears and traveling quickly to his dick. he feels himself twitch in his pants and he knows he’s screwed. he was only halfway understanding the material, but you looked at him expectantly and all the knowledge in his brain turned into mush. so he takes a wild guess and hopes that he gets it right.

but he doesn’t. and he knows before you could tell him, because it’s evident on your face. he wants to feel bad, he feels stupid for not getting it right, but he can’t help but twitch again at the thought of you scolding him for not getting the answer correct.

“sohee, i don’t know how else to explain this to you, it’s honestly not even that hard…” your voice trails as you sigh and he has to bite his lip to stop a whimper from erupting from his throat.

the problem might not have been hard, but he definitely was.

“s-sorry… can you explain it again?” his voice is low and he blinks hard a few times while you start explaining it to him once again.

he can’t help the way his hips start moving in his seat, your words sounding like a foreign language to him besides the small “right?” “got it?” “hmm?” that leave you to make sure he was still with you. he would repeat the words back to you and hoped that you wouldn’t look down or take your eyes off the screen, he was humping the air and finding relief in your voice. his eyes traveled down your shirt again and he accidentally replies to you a bit too breathy, like a moan, and you look at the boy who was next to you. he wad red, his eyes low and his lip between his teeth. then you look down, cock hard in his pants that he was rutting against.

“are you… are you getting off right now? what the fuck?” you jump out of your seat and stare down at the boy with confusion and a tinge of disgust. you can’t help the way you start to feel your second heartbeat between your legs, slight smirk creeping on your face. he likes it, how dirty he feels for this, how you’re calling him disgusting and he’s asking for you to touch him, but you deny him, because he doesn’t deserve your help when he can’t even answer a simple question on his study guide.

you watch as he continues to hump the air while he sits in his seat, hands gripping both sides of the uncomfortable wooden chair as he throws his head back, he imagines those pretty fingers jerking him off, he imagines those lips sucking on his cock while he cums in your mouth, he imagines what your tits would look like squished together and suddenly he’s moaning out loud and trembling under your gaze, his release leaking through the layers of his boxers and thin basketball shorts and creating a big wet spot.

“so dirty,” you hold back a chuckle and he whimpers, he’s still trembling in embarrassment from cumming untouched right in front of you. with a deep breath you move closer to him, sitting back down in your chair but moving it closer to where sohee sits. his eyes shoot open wide when one hand rests on his thigh while the other touches the print of his still hard cock, dipping into the soaked through fabric. he looks at your hands then back at your face, which is dangerously close to his as you speak to him. “finish this problem for me, and i’ll reward you mkay?”

tbh i didn’t understand the perv trope until 2022 & my life has been changed since… also 🍓 anon i’m going to ignore the chocolate chip cookie slander, more like i’m nasty he nasty we cheesecake… hope you liked this i got a little carried away LOL

[leahrintarou]

☠︎︎ DAY TWENTY-SIX: OVERSTIMULATION FT. ATSUMU

☠︎︎ WARNINGS: fwb relationship, best friends, no penetration, female stimulation, teasing, fem reader

☠︎︎ WORD COUNT: 1.3k

y/n's eye's darted up from the screen of her laptop and to the entrance of her bedroom's door after hearing it swing open with such force. "we lost" she heard the blonde announce before closing the door behind himself. "and you're smiling about it?" y/n questioned, still a bit pissed about his sudden barge into her home. "it was a fun game, i don't mind losing, after all, i got to play with some people i knew from high school"

y/n only sighed, before feeling the slight and sudden pressure on the area of her bed that atsumu decided to lay back on. "i could've introduced you but, you never come to my games to watch me play anyways" he frowned, eye's slightly glaring at y/n's uninterested expression. "you want me to watch you lose?" she looked up from her laptop to meet atsumu's gaze, smiling when the evidence of his pissed off state became visible on his features.

"i always come to your stupid student occasions. every one that you've taken for each semester too. despite them being so boring-"

he let out an unexpected whine when y/n's hand collided with his shoulder, leaving a stinging pain behind. "you always tell me how each of your games go, anyway. so, just fill me in on the shit ton of girls that flirted with you or vice-versa" atsumu groaned at her words before sitting up to remove her laptop from it's place on her thighs. "you know i'm not like that anymore, n/n"

"oh, really? i thought you were" atsumu couldn't tell whether she was using sarcasm or not but knowing y/n well enough, it was probably the first option. "you act like you wouldn't fall for me if i actually tried to date you"

"i wouldn't, you're basically a manwhore" she reached for her laptop, pulling it back into her lap so she could focus her attention back onto it. "aw, call me that again" he laughed when y/n' attempted to throw a pillow directly toward his face. "shut up, tsumu"

she calmed down, eventually, finally being able to voice a question. "so..are you going to tell me why you just bursted into my room without calling me?" she questioned. "well, you did give me a key to your apartment which means you're comfortable enough with me catching you doing basically anything. and i also just came here to see you"

y/n glared at his own calmly natured gaze, struggling to look away from him. with the sound of a notification from her phone, she was thankful that it finally snapped her out of her daze. atsumu would always have that affect on her, whether it was intentional or not. everything he did, basically mezmorized her which is why most of the time, she words slick insult or comments just to avoid him from becoming too relaxed.

"well, you saw me. what do you want to do?" she asked. "I'm not sure yet" atsumu was trapped in thought and his sudden silence made y/n look up to admire his features. he felt her gaze but decided to ignore it. that was until, it shifted onto his lips and his lips only. thoughts raced through y/n's head when she saw him smile, immediately forcing herself to look away and back to her laptop. "i feel you staring, pretty"

"fuck off, I just spaced out"

"really? what were you thinking about?"

she didn't reply and only kept her focus onto the screen of her laptop, contemplating whether or not she should insert some earbuds too. just so she could ignore the rising tension that was only being built up more and more in the atmosphere of her room, once again, atsumu removed her laptop from her lap, replacing it with his head, resting it there while his hand caressed the side of her thigh.

"tsumu, i have to finish my assignment. its due in a few hours" she explained reaching for it. he lifted his head before grabbing y/n's wrist. "then why've you been staring at the blank screen for so long?. clearly you're thinking about anything but that assignment." atsumu eventually sat up properly, before leaning closer to y/n, just barely grazing his lips over hers. he immediately pulled away when he felt her attempt to pull him in closer. "i guess it's too bad that i'm a manwhore, though"

"atsumu" y/n groaned, finally having enough of his teasing. "aw, dropped the nickname, already?" he frowned and just before y/n could speak, he properly leaned in, this time fully pressing his lips against her own. his lips moved as if he didn't have a care in the world and in this moment it felt as if he really didn't. "do you want more, n/n?" he smirked against her after inhaling a sharp breath when she purposely bit his lip.

"don't get all cocky, tsumu"

but despite wanting to keep her pride, the heat that rose between her thighs had other plans to which she couldn't help but follow. atsumu moved next to y/n, resting his back on the headboard before urging her to sit between his legs, her back resting against his chest. atsumu placed small kisses and actions of affection onto her shoulders, the lack of attention where she needed it the most almost making her want to groan from frustration. his hands made its way under the layered hems of her pants and underwear, erupting a satisfied sigh from y/n.

"i think im allowed to be cocky since you get so excited over my slightest touch"

before y/n could speak, the pads of atsumu's digits pressed directly against her bud, making her hold back her word's to avoid it coming out as a pleasured moan. atsumu kept an unsteady and patterned pace just to tease y/n enough so she'd voice her frustration of impatience. he smiled when a whimper left her lips after he purposely slowed his movement. "what's wrong, n/n?"

"you're teasing"

"i know" he smiled, suddenly building up a speed that immediately caught y/n off guard. small moans erupted from her throat when she felt like holding back was just going to make the situation more frustrating. atsumu smiled at her uncontrolled actions, her hips jerked up against his hand, her chest heavied repeatedly, and her legs so desperately wanted to wrap around his wrist. and with another lasting fast pace of atsumu's fingers against y/n's bud, her head leaning back onto his shoulder as her unexpected and fastly arriving peak was finally drawn out of her.

she tried to steady her breathing but quickly failed when atsumu only continued.

"again" he mumbled against her ear. y/n wasn't even sure if she could manage to build up the now overwhelming pleasure in such a small amount of time but the way atsumu's words sounding so confident, she had a little hope. she reached for his wrist to slightly slow his movements so she'd be able to relax against his touch for at least a second. y/n felt relief when atsumu complied but, not without a bit of reluctance. "tsumu"

he hummed at her words, when her hand's rested on his thighs to somehow ground herself to reality. his touches were overwhelmingly pleasure filled. his free hand griped her waist to cease her jerking movements as a continuous stream of moans were laced into her warning's over her second orgasm's arrival. her words only sent excitement through the entirety of atsumu's body, and a smile formed on his lips when her grip on his thighs tightened, her legs closely and suddenly encasing his wrist.

"am i still a manwhore, n/n?" atsumu asked, the pacing of his fingers still continuing at a normal pace. he awaited for y/n's answer to decide whether or not if he should draw yet another orgasm from her already sensitive figure.

"yes...tsumu, wait-"

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Fall Drabbles, Day 6

prompt: beanie

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Matt takes an interest in your knitting.

warnings: swearing, sweet fluff as always

a/n: This one is all over the place because I'm thinking through a new fic for later this year, but it's still cute (I think). Hope you all enjoy!

w/c: <1k

“Let the marathon commence!” Foggy exclaimed, turning out the lights with a malicious laugh, before immediately lighting a few candles (that he claimed were for “the vibe”, but you were pretty sure it was because he was too chicken to sit in the dark while watching scary movies.)

Tilting your head towards Matt, you shook your head ”Remind me how the two of us got roped into a movie marathon?” 

Though you and Foggy got along really well, your interests aligned more closely with Matt's. Whether that was because you'd known the blind lawyer since he was picking fights at St. Agnes, or because you were an introvert who preferred a good book to the cheesy special effects of Foggy's favorite films, it was unclear. Yet here you were, planted comfortably next to Matt on Foggy's worn out couch, about to work your way through his top five scary movies. 

While you had little interest in the activity, you had no idea why Matt had signed up to take part in it. Not only were movies not something he regularly indulged in, for obvious reasons, but he had previously admitted to you that horror movies were some of his least favorite because all of the jump scares were ruined by the audio descriptions. 

Shifting so that his shoulder pressed up against yours, Matt chuckled. “Because Fog asked us to, and we would do just about anything for him.”

You grumbled in dejected acceptance, unzipping the large pocket of your bag and pulling out your crafting supplies. 

“Woah, what's all that?” Foggy wondered aloud as he sat on Matt's other side.

“Knitting stuff,” You shrugged, unspooling the color you were holding and threading the giant needles. “I'm behind on Christmas gifts.”

“I don't know what I want to know more about: the fact that you're handmaking holiday gifts or that October 6th is considered 'behind' schedule.“ Matt scoffed, tucking an arm over your legs as you threw them across his lap to start knitting.

“I make winter hats for my young cousins and the members of my aunt's assisted living facility. They usually appreciate them and I like having something to do with my hands.” You shrugged, explaining the tradition indifferently. 

“That's really nice!” Foggy smiled, elbowing Matt in the ribs. “You should make some for us.” 

Matt rolled his eyes, “Fog, it sounds like she's got her work cut out for her without us adding to it. Besides, you already have a stack of very ugly hats from your late grandmother.” Turning his attention back towards you, he grinned, “'Have you seen the one with the giant flower attached to it?”

Smiling roguishly, you looked expectantly at the blushing blond, “No I have not. Foggy, care to model that one for me?” 

“Ok, FIRST of all,” Foggy glared at his business partner, “Things that you see when I am drunk off my ass in college should be kept in confidence. Secondly, she had dementia and forgot that I was 19. And a boy.” 

“What, boys can't like flowers?” You asked with mock offense, biting the inside of your lip to keep from giggling at Foggy's evident frustration.

“I WASN'T SAYING THAT!” He spluttered, “I was just explaining why I own that hat.” 

“Don't worry, Fog. We won't tell anyone you're a bigot.” Matt smirked.

Foggy huffed as you laughed openly. “Whatever. Next time, I'll watch these on my own.”

“No you won't.” You giggled. 

Stony face breaking into a toothy grin, Foggy agreed. “No I won't.”

While you were definitely paying more attention to the movement of your darning needles than the characters on the screen, you were enjoying yourself. Foggy's eyes were glued to the screen, still flinching at every jumpscare despite the automated verbal warnings. Matt was alternating between laughing at his friend's reactions and listening to the movie, all the while running his fingers over the feather soft yarn you were working with. 

Usually, knit products bothered his skin—the wool or polyester blends scratching at every available nerve with vigor—but this material was downy and comforting. He wondered if the recipients of your painstakingly crafted gifts were as appreciative as you deserved. It was unlikely.

The quiet, consistent clicks of your needles were soothing, slowly lulling him to sleep. His eyelids must have been drooping noticeably because you adjusted your position to allow his head to pillow on your shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he tuned out the movie—choosing instead to focus on the lullaby composed by your steady pulse and kind hands. 

A few weeks later, Matt was returning to his office after running an errand for a client. It was just as he left it, save for the paper box tied with a ribbon sitting in the middle of his desk. 

“Fog, what’s this?” He called across the empty space. 

“A gift for you from a special someone!” The response he received did not answer his question. 

Unraveling the bow cautiously, Matt slid the top off the box and ran his hands around the contents inside. It was a hat, woven together with strands of that marvelous yarn you’d been working with. 

“Fog,” He called to his partner, who had followed his curiosity straight into Matt’s office. “Did she make me a hat?”

“Looks that way,” Foggy chuckled, stroking the delicate material. “It’s…beautiful. Deep red, like your suit.”

“Oh,” Matt’s voice was strangled with emotion. 

“Still think your feelings aren’t reciprocated?” Foggy asked coyly. 

“Shut up,” Matt murmured, clenching the heartfelt gesture in his hands.

[noonaishere]

Online/Offline [C.S] - seventy-eight | sharing screens and secrets

“Hello?” Quack asked as you clicked the ‘Answer’ button on the screen.

“Can you hear me?”

“I can.”

You didn’t talk to Quack much via voice, but every time you did you thought she sounded so youthful. You were pretty sure you were around the same age, considering when she started modding for you, but she always sounded so much more cute than her business-like demeanor in texts would have you think.

“Okay, so I’ll share my screen now.”

You clicked over to what she was showing you.

“So, my friend did a bunch of digging, a little hacking, a little asking favors, and this is what she found. Well, the stuff we can legally use in court, anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess we can’t use hacked content as evidence, since hacking is illegal.”

“Mhm.” Quack pulled up a Twitch vod channel that seemed devoted to you.

“What the fuck?”

“This guy is… forget head over heels, he might just be spinning ass over tea kettle down a rabbit hole of love for you.”

There were videos with titles like ‘JGG is the best!’ ‘I’d lick JGGs boots clean if I could AND say thank you!’ ‘JGG loves me?’. 

You noticed the dates of the videos. “--Wait, is this the bottom of the page?”

“Yeah, this is all his old shit. If we scroll up, you can see here…” Quack scrolled up and stopped, her mouse hovering over the upload date of a video. “This is the day you had Morn guest the first time.”

The title was ‘JGG CHEATING ON ME???’ 

Quack clicked on it and clicked to about the halfway point of the video. The background of the video was the stream where you and Morn played together for the first time and he made you play Minecraft with him after everyone left, accompanied by a voice over by the channel owner.

“I just don’t understand-- I’ve been supporting her all this time and then she has this guy on to stream?” His voice broke as he sobbed. “I have spent so much money in her chat, she owes it to me to not invite another man on! I was lenient with Keeho, because they knew each other since they were in high school, but who the fuck is this-- this-- MorningStar? She could invite me-- or anyone else in the chat to play and she invites this man she just met! Whoring herself out for him while he simps after her like a beta cuck with no balls! She’s a--”

Quack stopped it. “I already listened to it once and it doesn’t get better.”

Your hand had been over your mouth in shock as you listened to his rant. You pulled it away. “No, uh… yeah-- I…” You trailed off.

“Are you okay?”

“...What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And he’s the one who’s been leaving all the comments?”

“Yeah, he’s been using a bot farm to do it. My friend shut it down.”

“Tell her I said thank you.”

“I will.”

You were quiet for a few moments as the words you just heard rang in your head like the tinnitus from hearing loss. “Wait… he said he’s been supporting me all this time...”

“If you’re about to ask if I know who he is, I do. Are you ready to see?”

“No, but, yeah.”

Quack clicked a link in the description of his About Me which led to some kind of affiliate link farm page you didn’t understand, then a link on that page, and another, and another, until she opened two in new tabs.

“Okay… I think I need you to take a deep breath before I show you this.”

“Is it that bad? It’s not Morn, is it?”

Quack chuckled. “No, it’s not Morn. But you’ve met the guy before.”

“What?” You whispered.

“Please take a breath.”

You did as she asked, exaggerating it so the microphone would pick it up and she could hear.

“Okay… this is who he is online.” She opened the first tab.

‘TheNicestGuy’ was the channel username that stared you in the face.

“What?” You whispered again. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“But… he’s been in my chat for forever and never said anything shitty before… has he?”

“Mmm…”

“Has he done something and you didn’t tell me?”

“Normally he engages about as much as most people. Maybe not excited as other chatters like Yuta or Tree, but now I’m thinking that he might have been doing that to mask how he really felt.”

“Wearing sheep’s clothing.”

“Basically. Ever since Morn showed up he’s been doing a lot of ‘dot dot dot’-ing, and I thought it was weird but I don’t talk to him so I wasn’t sure what it meant.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

You thought for a few moments. He never seemed weird or out of sorts at all to you. He seemed about as normal as any of your other chat members, like Namhae. 

“Are you ready for the next one?”

“Now I really am scared.”

“It’s…” Quack trailed off.

You sat in silence for a few moments.

“I’m not going to lie. It’s going to be scary.”

“Great...” you said, voice shaking.

“But I have to show you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Are you ready?”

“Just do it.”

“This is who he is offline.” She clicked the second link. It was a LinkedIn page. His profile was him smiling brightly in front of a mottled light blue background, the kind of picture a professional takes so they can use it on their social media.

You knew the face.

You knew you knew it.

It was the face of the man who had been showing up to the café for the past few months, and who chased you and San through the downtown area.

Of course you knew his face.

The stalker.

Tears pricked at your eyes as your brain spat out every time he had shown up in the café like a search engine finding every instance of a search term across the internet, and a torrent of anxiety and dread followed behind it all like a dam breaking old concrete and drowning everything in the valley below it. 

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Are you okay?”

“No… is that it?”

“No. This is his old account.”

She opened another tab and navigated to it: it was the page of the guy who took the picture outside of the café you used to work at.

“...Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“Oh my god!”

“I know.”

“How are you so calm right now?! That’s my stalker! He followed me to Seoul!”

“Because when my friend sent me the CCTV footage I got a good look at him, and when she sent me this last night, I recognized him immediately. …I spent most of the morning trying to figure out how to tell you.”

You stood up from your chair and went to pace, but your head was yanked back by the headset wire. 

“Are you okay?”

“I-- I-- I just--”

“I know.”

Tears rolled hot over your cheeks. “What the fuck, Quack? What the fuck?”

“I know.”

“I just… I… I’m sorry for crying.” You fell back into your chair, your legs weak from how the information shook you. You sobbed loudly and inhaled. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for crying.”

“Don’t apologize. Please don't apologize.”

“I just… I can’t believe a person who’s been following me for forever in my chat has been following me in real life! I--”

“Please, Cat, breathe.”

“I-- I can’t! I’m freaking out!”

“Can you call someone? Morn, maybe?”

“No, I can’t…”

“Why not…”

“I just can’t!”

Quack was silent as you cried.

You shoved your headset off and screamed until your lungs exhausted, and you slumped over your desk. Pulling your arms over your head, you laid like that, cheekbone pressed into the desk's hard surface and held yourself, knees pulled up as high as they could go under you. Even if Quack said something to you, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.

This was the worst possible thing that could be happening: he was the weird donor, the cafe picture, the influx of comments calling you a whore, the watching you in person, the chasing you in the dark-- he was all of it. He thought you were his, was that it? He thought he could own you - should own you - just because he donated sometimes? Streaming was a tip-based job; that's like saying that the waiter owes you sex because you tipped 30%. The dates on his page showed that he'd been fixated on you for a long time, but why the sudden ramping up? Was it because you refused his donation months ago? You could never take that much money from someone, it was the kind of amount that made you owe people... was that what he wanted? Did he want  you to owe him so... so what? So he could try to convince you to do something for him? Or...to him? You felt sick all over again.

You cried until the panic subsided and you could finally breathe normally, and when the feelings of terror and horror had finally finished washing over you, it was replaced with something else.

You sat up and grabbed the tissue box nearby and blew your nose. You grabbed another one and dried your eyes. You inhaled deeply and put your headset back on.

“You still there?” You asked.

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

“No.” Your voice was level now. You looked at his face on your screen. “I’m so mad.”

“Mad?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were freaking out.”

“I’m done freaking out… I’m mad now.” 

You looked at the picture for a few moments, Quack not saying anything. You weren’t sure what this feeling was, anger? Vengeance? Something in you congealed into a feeling that burned through your tired bones until they were ash, and what grew back in their place was so much more disconnected to the situation and the feelings of sorrow and hurt.

You knew what it was now.

Rage.

“This guy has been disrupting my life for what? Months now? At both of my jobs?” You asked.

“Mhm.”

“He followed me through a move and chased me and my friend around downtown.”

“Yeah.”

“I just feel so mad. I’m so angry, dude.”

“Yeah… that makes sense.”

“I’m just so fucking angry.”

“...What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know… I want him to suffer, because he’s been making me suffer this whole time.”

“Understandable.”

“And like… I want to know why, you know?”

“Yeah.”

You sat in silence.

“You’ve known me for a long time, right Quack?”

“I feel like this is going somewhere... yes.”

You chuckled. “You know I’m not a bitch, right?”

“You’re one of the nicest people I know. Definitely the best boss I’ve had so far.”

“Well thank you: You’re my best employee.”

“I’m your only employee.”

“There’s other mods now.”

“Yeah, but I’m basically their manager and you’re my boss.”

“Have they been working out well?”

“They’re great.”

“Have you heard from Namhae at all?”

“No. I should probably ping him and see what’s up.”

“I hope he’s okay.”

“Yeah, same.”

You nodded, looping your fingers in your headphone cord. “But like… this guy ‘NicestGuy’-- fucking ironic name; why do men who act like shit think they’re god’s gift to the world?”

“A-men.”

“But this guy… he makes me want to be a bitch, you know? All that unhinged, surprising rage that men act like women have but really it’s only surprising to them because they weren’t listening to us the first forty times we told them to leave us alone.”

“Relatable.”

“I… I want to talk to him.”

A beat of silence as she processed what you said. “Cat, are you sure about that?”

You thought, your eyes boring into the pixels that made up his picture on your screen. He looked like a perfectly normal guy, the kind of shmo you’d walk past down the street and never have a second thought about. And yet, all that surface-level normalcy was hiding something so terrible.

“Yeah. I need to ask why. And I want a confession out of him that he did it. I want something the police can’t ignore.”

“You want him to confess?”

“Yeah. I want him to fucking say he did all this and I want to record him and I want him to go to prison.”

She was silent for a moment. 

“Quack?”

“Yeah-- sorry. I was wondering if it would even be possible.”

“Do you think it is?”

“Yeah, I think it might be.”

You nodded, not that she could see.

“I'll tell you what: I’ll talk to my White Hat friend about it, and I’ll see if she has any advice, like, legally.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Oh and, don’t tell Morn about this at all.”

“Why not?”

“He might freak out.”

“Shouldn’t he? The guy was stalking you. What if he wants to help?”

“I have some other friends that can help.”

She sighed. “If you say so.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let you know what she says.”

“Thanks. And Quack?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad we met all those years ago. You’re not just an invaluable employee, you're a really great friend as well.”

Quack chuckled. “You better stop that or I’ll ask for a raise.”

You laughed. “You’re actually overdue for a raise, I think.”

She laughed again. “We can talk about it when all this is over.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

She ended the call.

You stared at the picture of your stalker. ‘Seo Byungchul,’ his page said. You looked at the smile on his face and wondered when he took the picture. Was it before he was stalking you? It had to be after he started watching your stream, by the age he appeared to be and how long you could remember him being in your chat. You wondered what he was thinking about when he took the picture. You wondered if he thought he was a good person. You wondered if he went to work every day, safe in the knowledge that none of his coworkers knew he was stalking a streamer both on the internet and in real life. You wondered if he stalked anyone else.

Hey Nero,

(I’m not sure if I should call you Nero or not anymore lol)

I’m just letting you know that I’ll be sort of unavailable outside of streaming for a bit. I have some irl shit I need to take care of and it might get a little rocky for everything outside of streaming. 

I’ll definitely let you know when I’m available to edit again though.

See ya round,

Cat

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@rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @dinossaurz​​ • @conwunder​ • @tinyelfperson​ • 

[specialagentlokitty]

Patrick Jane x reader - knowledge

Hiii could I ask fooooor aaa Patrick Jane x reader where reader isn't one to to goof around rather distant but very observant, like she's just on her head but her head is always running and when talking to her she may come across cold but in reality shes like super dupper awkward with the whole interactions thingy. But aslo very intelligent so on a case Jane where she's on the field with Jane and perhaps Cho (we love cho) Jane, well is Jane, but she finds a flaw on his deduction and just bluntly says so but then she's so awkward cuz dude she's new and Jane has already made a name on the CBI and Cho is there which only makes - @fucklife-or-me 💜

You were speaking to one of the officers who arrived on scene, getting his version of what he saw when he arrived.

Jane and Cho were simply wondering around the house, looking at everything while Jane was rattling things off.

“Excuse me.”

You walked away from the officer and over to the pair of them, arms crossed over your chest as you listened to Jane.

He was rambling on about what had happened here, and for the most part out agreed with him, everything he said matched up with all of the evidence.

All except one thing.

“In his coffee were an assortment of medications, aiming to knock him out so his wife could kill him.”

You shook your head.

“You’re wrong.” You said bluntly.

“How so?” Cho asked.

You walked over to both cups and pointed at them both, looking at the steam rising.

“These are freshly made coffee’s, neither have been drunk. The victim was killed at some point last night we know that, and the murderer stayed until just now.”

Jane frowned a little bit, looking at the two cups before turning back to you.

“So what were the cups for then?” He asked.

You shrugged a little bit, going to look around the home.

You were looking at everything and finally you stopped by a draw that was slightly open.

Pulling on a glove, you pulled it open and looked inside.

“My guess, it was a robbery gone wrong.”

You turned them them and just stared at them before you awkwardly looked away.

You didn’t know what to say now, so you simply padded away to carry on looking around before you headed towards the office.

When you got there, you sat down at your desk to do some paperwork before Cho and Jane got back.

“You were right, the victims wife came home and gave us a list of what was missing.” Cho said.

He set the list in your desk and walked away while Jane sat on the other side of your desk.

He watched you working, you were carefully monitoring what you were writing down, and double checking everything.

He looked at the list you had been given before setting it back.

He’d only spoken to you a few times, and this was your first time working a case with him, and he was curious as to how smart you really were.

“If you were to steal something, where would you take it for a quick turn over?”

You looked up at him before quickly typing something into your computer before turning the screen towards him.

“Simple, pawn shops and car boot sales. Car boot sales are a lot easier then pawn shops but there is two in the area that are pretty sketchy, and only three car boots going on today.”

You wrote down everything and handed it over to him before going back to his work.

“How’d you figure that out?”

You shrugged and carried on working on whatever it was you were doing and he handed the information to Lisbon and Rigsby.

Jane decided to stay there with you and carry on questioning you, he wanted to see how able you were, and maybe get a feel for why you spoke so coldly towards them all.

You were a hard worker, that was for sure.

But there was something about about you, an intelligence that you tried to keep hidden deep down within you.

He wanted to see the extent of that knowledge, and he wanted to see how many things you were knowledgeable.

So he kept asking questions about the case, you were giving you him all the answers he wanted and he was sending them over to the rest of the team.

You stopped talking after a while and simply got up and walked away from him without another word.

Jane watched you walk to the kitchen and he titled his head a little bit as he smiled.

“She’s kinda cold towards people.” Grace whispered.

Jane shook his head as he looked up at her.

“Nope, she’s just socially awkward.”

He beamed and got up and walked away, now he was going to find a way to help you over this social awkwardness

[fyonahmacnally]

#1 - Mike:

Her phone buzzes causing it to nearly vibrate off her nightstand and onto the floor. She catches it just in time and blearily stares at the bright screen to see who the fuck is calling her at midnight. Deep down, she knows it is likely one of two people. Her girlfriend or her best friend. Knowing Veronica and the number of times Lena has bitten her head off for late night booty calls, it’s likely the latter. Rubbing her eyes to help focus, she is proven correct. It’s Kara. If her best friend is calling this late, it can only mean one thing. 

“What has the jackass done this time?” Lena groggily croaks into the phone. “Do I need to hire someone to beat his ass?” She rolls over in bed, resting the phone on the pillow next to her as she puts it on speaker.

Soft sniffles drift into the silence before Kara’s tired voice can be heard. “He came home drunk again. This time he had lipstick on his face and his collar.” Muffled movement can be heard in the background as a door closes. “He’s passed out on the couch now since I refused to let him in the bedroom or our bed. Why do I keep putting up with his shit?”

Lena sighs, rolling over and placing her phone on her chest. “Because you love him. Same reason I have put up with Roni’s shit for so long. Either that or we are gluttons for misery and mistreatment.” A humorless laugh reverberates between them. “Do you want to come over? We can cuddle and commiserate in my comfy bed.”

A quiet sob escapes Kara’s throat on the other end of the line. “Y-Yeah. I’d like that. W-Where’s Veronica?”

“Who the fuck knows? We had a fight last night and I haven’t talked to her since.” Lena scoffs and shuffles out of bed to turn a lamp on in the living room. “Just use your key. I turned a light on for you and will be keeping the bed warm.”

They both chuckle and hang up. Lena crawls back in bed to wait for her best friend. 

#2 - Veronica:

A few weeks later, Kara is up late watching a movie. Mike is god knows where. The story this time is he’s out with some coworkers after their shift at the bar. She’s pretty sure he’s fucking the other bartender, Imra. She can’t prove it, but there’s too much circumstantial evidence for it not to be true. He has already been sleeping on the couch since the last incident and she’s getting incredibly close to kicking him out of her apartment. Not that he really lives there anyway, he just stays there most of the time.

A long sigh of irritation huffs out as her phone chimes with a text. She glances at the time on her cable box to see it’s almost one in the morning. Her chest twinges because she knows it’s likely Lena and that means Veronica is up to her bullshit again. Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, she taps the notification. She does her best not to laugh, but can’t hold back when she sees an angry emoji followed by a string of expletives. Instead of responding, she hits the call button.

“So she decided tonight would be a good time to give you unsolicited advice about your own career and let you know she won’t be attending the gala with you on Saturday?” Kara says, listening to her best friend growl with unbridled anger on the other end. “What did she think she was going to get in response? A hug? A thank you? Fuck, sometimes I think Veronica has the emotional intelligence of a shoestring.”

The last sentence makes Lena pause in her rant and a sudden burst of laughter comes across the line before it quiets again. “Oh Kara, thank you. I needed that. I can always count on you to make me laugh. To answer your question, I have no idea what she was expecting. It almost seems like she is trying to piss me off.” A slight pause and a door closing sounds across the line. “Sometimes I think she does shit like this simply because she likes makeup sex. Why in the hell do I put up with that woman?!”

“Maybe it’s some twisted way of punishing ourselves? Sometimes I think I somehow deserve it. I mean, I always forgive him. Is that giving him permission to keep doing it?” Kara sighs, rubbing her forehead in shared annoyance. “It’s been two years and nothing changes. It makes me wonder what the final straw will be.”

Read the rest on AO3. Link above.

[hanahaki-disease]

Waiting on some Holy Favor

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/SC cross over

Summary:

“Percy…Blew up…The St Louis arch?!

He’s not dead?!

Tim’s eyes were wide as they replayed the footage and enlarged the grainy picture showed off his best friend. What was Percy doing in Missouri? Who is that girl? What happened when he went to New York? Worry began to fill Tim’s stomach. He wondered if Percy was put up to this, threatened to do something for someone, because there was no way he was doing this of his own volition.”

Thank you to @keitria for beta reading!!!

*****************************

Tim locked the door behind him, wincing as his sore shoulder bumped the hard wood closed. Training was rough and he felt dead on his feet. But he chose this. He wanted—no, needed to become Robin. Dick didn’t want to take the mantle back, Jason was dead, and his best friend was missing. No one was here to reign in the Batman and Gotham was paying the price.

He hissed as he collapsed on the couch, an old towel separating him from the white material so that he didn’t stain it with his sweat or blood, groaning with relief when he could finally relax. His muscles burned. Legs weak, arms heavy, and head throbbing. Grapple training g was the worst but Robin needed to fly and so Tim will endure. Jason and Dick had, and he was sure Percy had too even if he wasn’t apart of the family business. If they survived, so could Tim.

With a groan he lifted his aching arms and grabbed the TV remote. He’ll turn it on to fill the silence, to make the empty halls not so empty anymore. Most of the time he didn’t really care what was playing. Sometime he flicked the channel button a certain number of times and leave it playing where it ends up, other times he’ll play friends or Sponge Bob, just something.

He flicked to the news. Alana Nazeer was Gotham’s beloved news reporter on channel eight, and Tim could see why. She was pretty, middle aged, and never shared her political opinions on city wide television. The best way to get on the masses’ good graces. She was reporting something serious, the laugh lines at the corner of her mouth pulled taught as she looked into the camera, hands clasped in front of her.

“Earlier today, down in St Louis, Missouri, a bomb detonated at the top of the St Louis arch,” She said reading the cue-cards. Tim was intrigued, he hadn’t heard about this yet. “There have been no causalities reported so far, however, eye witness accounts say that, just before the bomb went off and group of three young children rode to the top, and only two came down. No video evidence has been recovered yet but many suspect that these are the same children who caused a local greyhound buss to erupt at a gas station just outside Blüdhaven.

“St Louis Police department have recognized only of the three children involved with the Blüdhaven incident as young Annabeth Chase from Richmond, Virginia, the other two children are still unknown.” On the screen blurry surveillance camera footage showed Percy, the girl, and another kid their age jumping out the back of a bus before the screen cut off in the explosion. A few train station cameras also caught them before they disappeared in the southern city. “What their motives are is still unknown, but law enforcement is encouraging those with connections to either child to come forward and that we may apprehend them before any other tragedy occurs. This is Alana Nazeer with Gotham Today.”

Percy…Blew up…The St Louis arch?!

He’s not dead?!

Tim’s eyes were wide as they replayed the footage and enlarged the grainy picture showed off his best friend. What was Percy doing in Missouri? Who is that girl? What happened when he went to New York? Worry began to fill Tim’s stomach. He wondered if Percy was put up to this, threatened to do something for someone, because there was no way he was doing this of his own volition.

He should tell Bruce that Percy was alive. He needed to know, maybe—maybe that will help him get out if this funk he’s in. And perhaps Bruce will let him go down to Missouri to help Percy with whatever was going on with him, bring him back home to Gotham. Or even just supply him with the more discrete Batman tools and gadgets, give him another panic button just in case.

But as soon as those thoughts crossed his mind, he shoved them back where they came from. If he knew his best friend, and he does because they’ve known each other for years, Percy would not want Bruce’s help. Not after he was treated and ignored after Jason’s death. Percy would rant to him how Bruce would treat him as a burden, an unwanted mouth to feed because he wasn’t Jason. He wasn’t useful like Jason was, wasn’t as smart or as strong, and their near identical appearance was too much for the older man. Bruce couldn’t separate Percy from Jason and instead pushed him away.

And maybe that’s why Bruce didn’t notice till well after Percy went missing that he never came home. He didn’t fully recognize Percy as his son the way he had with Jason or Dick, even if Dick was his first. It took Alfred and Tim’s insistence for him to send Clark and J’onn to New York to find him, and by then it was too late. Percy had disappeared and it was days since the trip, and Tim had helped a few missing persons cases by then that anything after twenty-four hours was unlikely.

A part of Tim hated Bruce for being so ignorant and disrespectful towards Percy, for agreeing to take him in and care for him only to show favoritism towards his older brother. And he knew that a part of that ignorance was because of the grief over Jason, but it still wasn’t right. His there-but-not-there presence reminded Tim of his own parents and he doesn’t wish that upon anyone, much less his best friend.

But maybe now that Tim was Robin, or on his way to become Robin, he could help Percy somehow? But…How? Tim was stuck in Gotham and he was due to leave any day to Paris to complete his training—Dick! That’s right! Tim had almost forgotten about the oldest Wayne child. They hadn’t spoken since Tim asked if he could be Robin again for Bruce, but Dick told him to keep his number in case of emergencies. And this was an emergency if any.

“Hello?” Dick’s voice answered from the other side.

“Mr Grayson? Are you busy?” Tim asked.

“I can talk, Tim,” He said. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“You remember the gas station explosion a few days ago in Blüdhaven? The one with the bus and the missing kids?”

“Yeah, I went over there to investigate with the police department, but there wasn’t much evidence of how it happened,” He answered. “I know some of the passengers had said it was because of some kids, but we weren’t able to find them. Why’d you ask? Did you find something?”

“Ye-Yeah, um” He stuttered. He didn’t really think this conversation through, if he as honest. He thought it was just going to be easy. Ring up the young adult, tell him he saw his missing little brother on TV and that he was the reason for the domestic terrorist attacks across two different states, and then hang up and go about his night. It was a vague, unreliable plan because how exactly was he supposed to actually tell him that. He couldn’t just blurt it out right, Dick wouldn’t believe him. But this was important and he should know because it his little brother, Tim’s best friend! Who, apparently, is a wanted fugitive in two states. Wild. “I think Percy’s alive.”

Dick’s silence on the other side was concerning. “What?”

“I-I just saw the news,” He answered. “He was seen in St Louis and he-he’s a suspect in the arch explosion, but he disappeared after that.” Tim rewound the TV, letting the segment replay. “And there’s been surveillance recovered from the gas station, and Percy was spotted in the feed.

“I Just thought you should know,” Tim said. “I don’t know if B would have told you if he knew. I don’t know if he knows himself that Percy’s alive.”

“Did the news say why he was in St Louis?”

“No, just that he was spotted there and in Blüdhaven. They don’t know where he’s going from there of if he’s still there, not many witnesses saw him beside those that saw him at the top.”

“Okay. Okay.” Tim heard Dick sigh. “I’ll..I’ll look into it, try and see if I can find him or where he’s going next. Thank you , Tim. That means a lot.”

Dick hung up after that and Tim couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. First, his best friend as alive. (Already the best news in the world.) Second, he helped Nightwing with a missing person’s case indirectly. (His inner fanboy was screaming right now.) And thirdly, he was going to be Robin. Tim was going to be able to help the Batman and Nightwing and go on missions and help Gotham. The term ‘joy’ didn’t fully encapsulate what he was feeling.

He only wished Percy here to celebrate with him.

*****************************

I was originally going to post this on Sunday but I decided to be nice. I still might update on Sunday too, who knows 🤷‍♀️

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[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi! Not sure if your requests are open but maybe one where Mel and reader both have crushes on each other but think the other wouldn't be interested bc of the age difference

Hi yourself! My requests are indeed open (honestly, I'm flattered to the extreme that people like what I write enough to actually ask for more of it). Sorry this one took a little bit of time but after I got the initial idea from reading your prompt this one took a life of it's own and refused to go down the path I originally started it down. Anyway...I hope you enjoy!

It's Just A Little Crush (Not Like I Faint Every Time We Touch)

It would be easier if she wasn’t nice to you. 

If she wasn’t nice to you, she could just be the untouchable, hot as hell, fiery goddess you admired from afar. 

But no.  She let you sit with her and Barb at lunch.  She even brought you lunch after a few conversations had strayed into discussing cooking and favourite recipes during said lunch breaks.

How were you meant to get over your ridiculous crush when she actually gave you the time of day?  When she smiled like that?  When her whole face lit up and she gestured so animatedly when she got caught up talking about something?

And as if that wasn’t enough, how were you ever meant to recover after seeing her so soft with her students?  Going out of her way to open up to them and help them. 

It was ridiculous, though.  You knew that.  What good was ever going to come of it? 

Kid.  That’s what she calls you.  It’s a constant reminder of the age gap between you.  Of the chasm that you feel you can’t even begin to cross when she sees you as some eager little kid.

You’ve always had a thing for older women.  From those early, confused days of watching your on-screen idols, to realising you didn’t want to be them.  You didn’t want to be friends with them.  You just wanted them. 

You want one in particular, but as you look across at her, her red hair ablaze in the sunshine, you force those feelings down once more.  If friendship is what she’s offering you’re not about to beat her with that olive branch.  You’ll deem yourself lucky and move on.

Even if she has ruined you for anyone else. 

*~*

“You know,” drawled Barbara.  “It’s beginning to become a habit.”

“What is?” asked Melissa, turning to face her friend with a frown. 

“Staring at her,” said the older woman, eyebrow raised. 

The red head scoffs.  “As if.  I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but that ain’t it.”

*

It was all said in jest to begin with.  Gentle teasing about a few wayward glances.  That was until Barb started to see her best friend be genuinely nice to you. 

To begin with, she tolerated you.  You weren’t one of the eager little puppies she so often saw when it came to younger new hires.  That much was evident from the start.  You were an old soul.  You carried a different energy. 

One that Melissa apparently appreciated just as much as the view.  Barb stood beside her the red head as they watched over the kids leaving school, keeping an eye on the them as they left for the day, making their way to busses, rides or parents.  Or rather, Barb was keeping watch over the children.  A quick glance at Melissa confirmed that her attention was directed at you where you stood a little way off, chatting happily with a young girl about the book she was waving at you as she waited for her mother to collect her. 

“Girl…”

“Don’t,” sighed Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest. 

That took Barb by surprise.  She had expected the red head to deny it.  “You mean?”

“It’s stupid.  She’s some pretty young thing and I’m…older than I care to admit.”

Turning to look at her friend, her expression sad, the older woman reached out and placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm.  “And?  What’s it called?  A Spring, Winter romance?”

“May, December,” corrected Melissa automatically.  “But same thing.”

“Exactly” said Barb.  “There’s a name for it and everything.  It’s a thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” huffed the red head, turning on her heel and heading back into the building.  “It’s stupid and I’ll get over it, just like I do everything else in my life.”

*~*

You’re not sure you’re entirely on board for PECSA. 

Out of school, things are different.  Lines are blurred and you’re seeing a whole different side to your colleagues.  You’re not sure if it’s liberating or terrifying.  And that’s before you add in the factor of the other teachers who have also been set free from the constraints of the classroom and are now loose in the wild.

You’re sure your confusion must show on your face, particularly when at the end of one of the breakout sessions you find yourself caught up in conversation with a striking older woman who teaches at another school across town.

You don’t see Melissa at first, who watches the interaction with interest.  She’s not used to seeing you outside of school, and it takes her back to realise that the woman is flirting with you.  Openly and blatantly flirting with you.  She’s touching your arm, leaning into you.  Smiling and laughing. 

In return, you know you’re blushing something terrible, especially when the woman hands you a page from her notebook with her number scrawled across it.  Watching the woman walk away, throwing you a smile over her shoulder to you, you finally see the red head standing in the doorway where she said she’d meet you so you could head for lunch together.

“She not a bit old for you?” she asks as you approach, your blush still heating your cheeks.

You frown.  “If she looks like that and thinks I’m hot enough to give me her number, they’re the numbers I’m interested in,” you reply, heading in the direction of the lunch buffet. 

Barb overhears the comment, unable not to smirk at your flash of sass.  “Jealous?” she asks, leaning into the red head’s space. 

“Of what?” barks Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you go.  “Oh leave off!” she snarks at the older woman’s raised eyebrow.

*

How the day has gone from serious talks and breakout sessions to cocktails by the pool you’re still trying to wrap your head around.  Adjusting your cover up, you head around the side of the pool, heading for the bar.  You hope the day starts to feel a little bit more normal with a drink in your hand. 

Gazing out over the water, you catch sight of Melissa.  Or rather, you catch sight of a lot more of Melissa than you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing before.  Not looking where you’re walking as your eyes drink in the magnificent view there’s no saving yourself as you step forward and your foot finds water instead of concrete.

“Is that?” Melissa asks incredulously at the dramatic splash that comes from the other side of the pool.  She’s up out of her lounger before Barb can comment and the older teacher can only watch on in amusement as the red head takes off in your direction. 

You pull yourself out of the pool, allowing yourself to perch on the edge as you try your best to ignore the chuckles of those around you who have noticed your mishap. 

“What the fuck happened?”

You look up and of course Melissa is there.  Right there, lit up in the sun like an angel, red hair haloed around her head.  It takes a moment to realise that her eyes are roving over you, and not just your face.  You glance down where your cover up now clings to your skin, almost see through. 

Looking up you see Melissa blink rapidly a few times before offering you a hand.  You reach for her, smiling as she helps pull you to your feet.  “Thanks,” you smile sheepishly.  “I guess I should go change.”

“It’s a pool, you’re allowed to be a little wet,” the red head smirks back at you.  “Besides, we’re this close to the bar now, be rude not to take advantage.”

*

Melissa appears at the bar next to you with a huff, grumbling under her breath.  Her attention is focused on trying to get the attention of the barman.  Mumbling though she is, she’s speaking just loud enough for you to make out what she was saying. 

“He was an ass,” you tell her, watching as her head whips around, finally realising you were there. 

“What?” she asks with a frown, already tipsy. 

“Your ex,” you enlighten her.  You may not have heard the comment that led to her current dip in mood, or ever have met the man, but you know enough.

Her frown only deepens.  “You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I know he didn’t appreciate what he had and left you,” you offer, ordering a drink when the barman appears in front of you, before turning back to Melissa to ask what she wants.  You find her looking at you oddly, her expression unreadable.  She quickly snaps out of it and barks and order at the bartender.

*

Barb has had more than a few drinks, it would appear as she flags you down to sit with her as you pass her table. 

“Sit, sit,” she smiles, trying to reach for your arm and push the chair out next to her at the same time in an uncoordinated matter. 

Catching her hands, you still her as you slide into the seat beside her to placate her.  Her gaze is a little unfocused, her words edging towards slurred.  You hadn’t quite realised how drunk she was, but then again, looking around the room, it would have been more of a surprise for her to be sober. 

“Don’t call that woman,” she tells you, leaning into your space.

“What woman?” you frown.

“That woman who gave you her number,” says Barbara like it’s obvious. 

You try not to think about the fact that for Barb to know, Melissa must have mentioned it.  That it’s been on her mind enough to mention it to the older woman.  “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“She gave me her number,” you point out.  “I don’t think she would mind.”

Barb shakes her head.  “Not her.  Her,” she says, nodding across the room to where Melissa is standing. 

You cross your arms across your chest.  “What has Melissa got to do with anything?”

Barb raises a single eyebrow, the action still smooth and effective despite her drunkenness and it makes you blush. 

Averting your gaze, you shake your head.  “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” you sigh.  “She’s not…She thinks I’m some stupid kid.”

What you don’t see, is Melissa now standing close enough behind your chair to catch your words.

*

Somewhere after speaking to Barb you decide that trying to be the sober parent of your little Abbott family just isn’t working.  You’ve lost track of most of them, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to find them.  They’re all adults and can fend for themselves.

You still have eyes on Barb and Melissa though, the former dancing up a storm and the latter apparently winning an ill-advised drinking competition. 

Not that you can judge, of course.  You know you’ve drunk more than you should, feeling pleasantly buzzed from your seat in the corner of the bar.  You should call it a night before you do something you’ll regret, like call the woman Barbara told you not to.  Sober, you wouldn’t.  Drunk, you’re flattered enough and wouldn’t say no to the company. 

With a sigh, you push yourself up out of your seat and head towards the elevators.  Pushing the button, you watch the numbers light up as the lift descends.  You squeak in surprise when a strong pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around as a plump pair of lips meet you own.

“I don’t think you’re some stupid kid.”

You blink slowly a few times, taking in the woman before you.  Melissa.  Melissa Schemmenti just kissed you.  You shouldn’t, but you don’t have it in you to deny yourself the pleasure of feeling her lips against yours once more.  You kiss her back with enthusiasm, not protesting when she backs you into the elevator as it opens and moaning as your back hits the wall of the small metallic box, the weight of Melissa pressed against you. 

You’ve always admired her curves.  Pressed against you they’re a dream. 

The clearing of a throat far to close snaps you out of your living dream and you feel Melissa take a step back, biting her lip as she guiltily throws a glance over her shoulder, registering Barb standing in the elevator, her back to you both as if she hasn’t just witnessed exactly what you were both doing. 

Standing close, you grin at the devious smirk being aimed your way by a certain red head.  There’s a dangerous glimmer of mischief in her eyes.  Smudged lipstick and mussed hair from where you hands couldn’t help but run thought it complete the look.  The woman is a work of art. 

You look up as the elevator doors chime open, realising this is your floor.  Stepping forward, you slip past Barb, who merely raises an eyebrow.  You throw a look back at Melissa, who sways forward as though to follow you, before hesitating. 

The doors slide shut, and honestly, it’s probably for the best.

You miss the dark chuckle Barb lets out as the lift begins to ascend once more.

“What you laughing at?” asks Melissa, scowling.  She’s annoyed with herself for hesitating.  She knows what she wants, and she just let it walk out of the elevator.

“You two think you’re subtle?” the older woman drawls.  “She has more of your lipstick on than you do.”

*

If PECSA was party central the night before, it was hangover central the morning after.  You’re sitting outside on the low wall, sunglasses firmly in place, your phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as you take in the cool morning air. 

“You regret what happened last night?”

You turn to see Melissa, similarly attired.  “What?”

She comes to stand beside the wall on which you’re sat, her gaze wandering anywhere but you as she speaks.  “I came to your room last night.  You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you,” you admit, watching as her head whips around.  “Too busy throwing up everything I ever drank.”  You feel the blush dusting your cheeks, but continue.  This feels too important to let a little embarrassment stop you.  You take off your sunglasses so she can see your face as you speak,  “I have many regrets about my choices last night, but what happened in the elevator isn’t one of them.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips as she shifts to take a seat next to you.  She slips her own sunglasses off, finally letting you see her eyes.  “Good to know,” she murmurs.  “Me neither.”

You can’t help but smile at that.  You notice her gaze wandering and realise she staring at the phone still clutched in your hand. 

“You planning on using that number you were so interested in yesterday?”

“Honestly?” you ask, seeing the uncertainty in her face as she nods regardless.  “That woman was hot, and while I was more than a little flattered she gave me her number…she isn’t a patch on you.”

Pale cheeks blush adorably pink at your words.  Melissa isn’t used to hearing things like what from you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you scoff, nudging her shoulder.  “You’ve seen yourself in a mirror, right?  And you needn’t think I go falling in pools over every pretty woman I see.”

“I really distracted you that badly, huh?” she asks, a little of her confidence returning.

You bump her shoulder with yours once more.  “Shut up.”

A gentle hand moves to cup your cheek, turning you to face her as Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your lips.  “For the record,” she says quietly.  “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid.  I think you’re beautiful.”

You take in a shuddering breath.  It all feels too good to be true.  “What happens at PECSA stays at PECSA?” you ask sadly.

“I’ve never been one for playing by the rules,” she smirks back at you, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before pushing herself to her feet and offering a hand to you.  “Come on, we gotta go find Barb.  Reunite her with her shoes, sobriety and sanity.”

You take the hand being offered like a lifeline, grinning as Melissa starts walking, swinging your joined hands between you.  It’s only as you pass through the front doors to the building that her words even register.  “Wait?  Her shoes?”

[the5thcellar]

it's pretty easy to guess why this girl wanted the attention on her right aware after the premiere of the second half of Bridgerton season 3. did we all watch the same love scene? it was hella intimate honestly the most intimate the show has done thus far because it wasn't a sex scene THAT was lovemaking captured and recorded. still haven't gotten over being able to see Luke's O face and alllll of the thrusting. if I were his gf and had to watch THAT scene AND have the whole world shipping my dude with his hot co-star I'd be salty enough, but lemme have access to paparazzi and I'd make a statement too if I were 23 and even mildly insecure.

oof that's quite a statement! I do agree very much with the observation of the startling intimacy between Luke and Nicola in S3 scenes. both have said it was extremely real to them and I think many of us felt how much they poured their hearts and souls into it. it's the first time I felt the need to look away from a screen - it felt like I was intruding on a private moment.

regarding Antonia: I am well aware many fans are saying very unfriendly things about her. I want to make sure I don't add to the negativity. I don't want to contribute to the stereotype that she's an influencer who's looking for a quick ride to fame. I don't like the implication from those fans that young women have an ulterior motive whenever they date (rich/famous) men.

I don't know her. for all I know everything they're saying could be true. but making things personal just because I don't fancy the relationship between Luke and Antonia is an instant way to lose any credence as a fan and/or representative voice of my fandom. I can't exactly mock her "stans" if I'm making equally spurious claims.

I've said this a few times but it bears repeating: please do not make malicious claims or share negative views about Antonia's personal character without actual evidence. Talk in your circles or in private chats - find your own space to express your frustrations with everything that's going on.