#so at least if they meant something else i can say it was not my fault. i did what they said. to a T.

[car-o-line]

Oh boy uhm. Really nervous to ask this

First of all, I've recently started following you and I just have to say, I love your work. Everytime I read your posts it has me giggling and kicking my goofy little feet in the air./pos /gen

I was wondering if you could write about what if Doey and his 3 consciousness would do with a blind player /w broken glasses (Their vision is shit and can only make out things if they're REALLY close to their face 💔)

It's completely fine if you don't want to do this or don't have the time, just dropping down a small request :3

AHJBHEJFGWQKJBHKFER, ahem, thank you omg ur so sweet- and also this came to me at the right time because my vision is also ass but I refuse to wear glasses so shhh🤫🤫🤫 AND DO NOT BE NERVOUS ABOUT REQUESTING I DON’T BITE, PINKY SWEAR😤

Doey with a reader whose vision is bad bad 👓🤏😐

You honestly had no idea how you’ve made it this far-

From using your grab pack to grab handles that seem just like a glowing color, to reaching for batteries that seem like a speck of dust, and even not knowing that you killed monsters(you didn’t even realize Catnap died until Poppy told you herself)

Speaking of Miss Wendy’s head, she also has no clue how you came such a long way. But she figured that if you could manage to do all of this without good vision, the things you could do with perfect vision would be unimaginable in a place like this.

Either way you survived and you did the job, that’s all that counted.

After escaping..uhm, a rainbow lion or whatever. You quickly came across a green dinosaur that somehow made piano noises, though for the 15 seconds that you first saw him, the next 15 seconds were how he died. You couldn’t tell what killed him until the something crawled out of the darkness and came straight up towards you.

“Hiya there pallll, don’t worry! I won’t eat you. Ahahah..”

You recognized who that something was, Doey. You were a pass employee after all, but he was hard to see. And hard to understand where he was at during the whole encounter. Was he spying on you when you couldn’t see? Who knows?

The mascot told you to follow him as he managed to squeeze his way through the holes in the brick walls, which made everything wayyyyy more confusing than it had to be.

Appalled, you literally just didn’t know where to go to follow him, you looked up, down, left, right, but all you could see was a blur.

Doey, eventually realized that you weren’t following him, so when be went back to where you first were, he was meant with you trying to grab the handle above(you found out how to follow him eventually) and missing each time miserably.

“Do you need help with that bud?”

(he scared you to death)

You sheepishly told him that you could not see a single thing unless it was real close to you. That’s why you’re missing so much.

He was a bit dumbfounded because if you were “Poppy’s friend,” wouldn’t she had chosen someone who would be the least at risk when it came to this sort of things. He imagined that if he grabbing a handle was a hassle for you, then everything else you’ve done must have been horribly troublesome for you.

Because Poppy wouldn’t let someone who’s basically BLIND do all her dirty work..right?

Right????

He decided to deal with that problem later, for now he wants to guide you personally to Save Haven. Somewhere where you can be safe until it’s not, or until he figures out what to do with you.

His way of transporting you was simple, just for you to piggy-back ride him til the area was reached(Jack just wanted a way to kind of actually touch someone without doing it randomly🎀)

Once at Safe Haven he had the Medic check up on you in case you got injured in anyway while he had a “chat” with Poppy.

“You let someone who can barely see go out and do all of the things someone in top-notch shape should be doing?”

“Listen Doey, who else is going to be down here and help us. Who else is capable to do the things they’re doing!?”

“Not them.”

“Doey-”

“I know you want this to happen as fast as possible Poppy. But using Y/n isn’t the right option, it’s a miracle they’ve survived for this long. And if they would’ve died, it would’ve caused the Prototypes attention much more then if Y/n hadn’t came here to begin with.”

“You don’t get it, Y/n has potential- you’ve seen what they’ve done!”

“And it’s great, but they’ve done enough. They will stay here until the Prototype is dead, end of discussion Poppy.”

And he means to keep his word until he physically cannot do so anymore.

Matthew is definitely the most concerned about your predicament. When he’s in control he’ll kind of be like a butler or a guidance for you. He makes sure that the other toys in Safe Haven know about your vision so that if they play or you’re helping them do whatever, that they know to either play gentle or not ask too much from you when you’re around.

Kevin did not give two craps at first I’m so so sorry😭 He’s so inconsiderate ain’t he beginning like, they don’t have glasses? Are they poor? When he’s first met you he purposefully hid your items from you just so you get annoyed. But when you got closer with his personality, he yells at anyone who bothers you or hides things from you. A hypocrite at his finest.

Jack used your vision as an opportunity to bond with you. Even if he wasn’t purposely doing it he sometimes uses your lack of sight to his advantage for entertainment. If you need something but can’t see it(it’s literally on your sleeping bag and you’re IN the tent) he makes a game out of it like if he finds it first you have to give him a hug or a high-five. He also wonders about it most too, so you literally just cannot see? Interesting…he said he’d cry if that happened to him. Okay Jack. Okay.

#ThisIsWhyYouDoNotBreakYourGlassesOrYouWillEndUpLikeY/n

[coolwyous]

okey now we need dani gf head canons

  ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who finds any excuse to have her hands on you even when the moment calls for it least. play wrestling, fidgeting with your hands, finger hooked in your belt loop as you walk. she's shockingly brash, and you've had to reprimand her in front of your friends before for the way she grips you as you walk, fingers splayed on your hip and dipping into your waistband without the slightest bit of concern. "oh, like people don't know that we—" and you have to cover her mouth with your hand to keep her from saying something that would make your ears burn. (she likes pushing your buttons, to nobody's surprise.)   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who's love language is quality time, wants to be on the phone even if it's just to hear you breathe peacefully as you do homework or fold laundry. she'll rant and ramble for as long as she feels the need, never expecting you to have any solutions, and instead just expresses her gratitude for your listening ear. and when it's her turn to listen, she's so so animated, face scrunching in the camera. "i'll kill them," she always threatens if you even think to mention having a hard day, and a part of you knows she's serious about wanting to stand up for you.   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who plays the nonchalant card for a total of maybe 15 minutes before she's exposing herself for being just the slightest bit possessive. you see her clicking her tongue as she watches you laugh with literally anyone else, and even if she doesn't mention it then, she'll bring it up later. she always does. never admitting her own jealousy, just a simple reminder of her role in your life and yours in hers. "you know you're mine, right?"   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who calls the whole "hey mamas" thing corny as fuck, but the moment you shrug and go "idk, i kinda think it's hot," she's taking every opportunity to beam that giant stupid smile at you, rolling her r's exaggeratedly, trying at the most inconvenient times to flex her bilingualism. "te conté alguna ves la historia de—" and you're kissing her to shut her up, her point being made.   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who runs extremely hot in her sleep, always hooks a strong leg around you to keep you anchored next to her. she can feel you move away in her sleep, and even though she's dead asleep, she always manages to reach out and pull you in until she's satisfied that you're locked in place.

  ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who has a thing for your hair up, 'cause she's got this thing about your neck, and you know if you wear anything that covers it, she'll be all too eager to get you out of it and expose the soft skin there, ripe for her taking whenever she pleases. brushing your hair away, tugging your hoodie down, even being so bold as to playfully undo one of your topmost buttons. she wants full access, and she'll make sure you're aware. (  ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙞, who on the note of your neck, buys you a dainty gold chain with her initial on the end of it that she makes extremely clear is meant to be on full display at all times. you make the mistake of taking it off to shower and going to dinner without it, and she replaces her initial with a dark welt of hickeys . "you can wear these, or my name, but people have to know who you're going home to," she tells you, and you have zero desire to argue with her logic. )

[highway-143]

when ice cracks- park sunghoon

genre: fluff, smut, strangers to enemies (?) to lovers?

pairing: figure skating teacher!sunghoon x female!reader

warnings: swearing, blood, kissing, unprotected sex, ass slapping, oral, (f. rec) thigh fucking, (?) doggy style, (never thought i'd write that one lol) soft-ish dom sunghoon

synopsis: when you decide to finally take figure skating lessons, your instructor is much cuter than you expected... but he doesnt seem to like you as much as you like him.

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01

song: like that- babymonster

a.n- this one was kind of a surprise lolll... i dont know where it came from but here you go :D

(proofread)

all scenarios are fake and are not meant to harm any idol in the story

------<?3------

"do you know any good figure skating teachers?"

"what?"

"figure. skating. teachers." you say, your fists planted firmly on elissa's desk as you try to get your best friend to help you.

"bitch, can you see i'm busy?" she asks, gesturing to her open computer and papers scattered across the white surface of her desk.

"ughhh" you groan, knowing she was right. studying to be an engineer had to be more time consuming than normal work. at least the major you had picked was easy enough... and you were in senior year.

"wait, figure skating? since when have you been interested in that?"

"since i decided clown training wasn't an option." you say sarcastically.

elissa rolled her eyes. "ha ha."

"because i want to explore new hobbies."

"i heard from my sister's friend that park sunghoon is starting lessons." she says.

"am i supposed to know who that is?"

"you don't?" she asks, looking shocked.

"no..."

"he's really famous. made it to the olympics, and he's number 7 in all of korea. he's only our age too."

elissa starts typing on her computer, turning it around to show you pictures of a handsome man, either on the ice or in a suit at awards ceremonies.

and damn, he was gorgeous.

he had a sharp jawline, accentuating his full lips and perfect nose, a small mole dotting its side and one under his eye. his hair fell in swoops, framing his face in a way yours could never.

he was beautiful.

and pricey.

you look at the cost of his lessons, $75 per session. who had that kind of money?!

apparently you did.

because when you apply for three classes on his website and put in your card information, your bank account cries a little.

you reassure your conscience with "its okay, all you need is basic training. and if the lessons aren't good, you can always find someone else."

right?

------<?3------

you pull into the parking lot, your old car sliding into an empty spot.

reaching into the backseat, you pull out your skates. last week, you explored amazon for the best and cutest pair you could find, coming across these. white faux leather with light blue threading and laces, and shiny silver blades, that currently held covers so you wouldn't cut your fingers.

you carry the skates out of the car, and into the rink. the outdoor arena was perfect. not too big, but enough space for you to be comfortable.

the crisp winter air reddened your cheeks and nose as you walk to the small tented pavilion next to the rink.

when you step inside the room, you find sunghoon.

and you can't speak anymore.

you cant think.

you cant move.

sunghoon looks up at you from his seat on a bench, his skates half tied and his hair slightly hiding his eyes.

you gape at him as he stares at you, looking you up and down.

"what are you wearing?"

"h-huh?" you say, unsure of what he means.

"your clothes. you should wear something less bulky for your top. it's more aerodynamic."

you look down at your thick coat. "i... i didn't know-"

"obviously not. i assume you're a beginner?" he says flatly, his eyes boring into yours, no warmth in them.

"i mean, yeah. thats why i'm taking lessons, right?" you say, slowly getting more and more pissed off.

"yeah, but even untrained skaters could figure that out."

you curl your hands into fists around your skates. who did he think he was?

"i reccomend leggings and a thin sweater for next time. now, get your skates on and we can start. hurry up." he finishes tying his skates and stands easily on them, walking smoothly over to his bags.

you sit on the bench and start putting on your skates, tying them with the pastel laces.

sunghoon steps closer to you, watching you tie the second.

"you're doing it wrong." he scoffs.

you stare at him as he looks at your skates. "care to enlighten me on how i'm doing it wrong? you ask.

"feel how loose they are? not going to support your ankles, are they?"

you bite back sarcastic comments. "well i tied them the best i can."

sunghoon crouches down, one knee on the floor as he grabs your foot. your cheeks heat up as he unties your laces.

"terrible skates. i swear, half of you prioritize looks over functionality."

"what's wrong with them!?" you ask, fed up with his critical reviews of everything.

"the material isn't very supportive, the pads on the soles are too thin, and the blades are duller than they should be." he says simply. "maybe you should do better research next time."

you roll your eyes. "sorry i bought the wrong thing. they were affordable. thank heavens, because your classes practically killed my bank account."

"i didn't ask you to take these classes, did i?" he says, moving to untie your other skate. "if it was really that big of a deal, you would've gone somewhere else. and considering you signed up for three classes, you had enough money."

you sputter, trying to find the words to tell him you literally had no clue about anything figure skating related.

"okay, so i bought the wrong thing. i have never skated before, how am i supposed to know what to wear or buy or do?"

he smirks at you, standing back up. "maybe if you scrolled a little farther on the website, you'd find links to everything. and tips for newbies. but you didn't. its all on you, y/n"

you sit in shock, his words like a slap to your ego.

sunghoon walks away, still looking smug. "stand up, newbie."

you struggle to your feet, ankles slightly bending outward as you rise. you had to admit, the support to them was very helpful. if sunghoon hadn't tightened them, you'd probably have fallen already.

without looking back at you, sunghoon speaks. "told you they needed to be tighter. fix your legs. don't stand like a baby deer, straighten your knees and stand up. don't let your ankles pop out, and keep your feet locked straight ahead."

you do as he says, and suddenly, your stance is perfect. you don't wobble or fall over, you stand tall, feeling proud of yourself already.

sunghoon struts back over to you. "lets get on the ice. remember, ankles locked. flex your calves if you have to."

"okay," you slowly take steps forward, growing more confident as you walk farther away from the bench. "so what are we doing today?" you ask sunghoon, who is already stepping onto the rink, gliding away as he circles around the ice.

"the basics, newbie" he calls, swerving and spinning while you cautiously step onto the slippery surface.

you place one foot onto the ice, and slowly put weight on it, getting ready to bring your other foot on. but as you lift it up, your foot on the ice slides away from you, and you grip onto the railing to pull back.

sunghoon appears in front of you, another smirk plastered over his devastatingly handsome face. "need help, newbie?" he asks, looking at your sliding foot.

"no thanks, i've got it," you say, trying and failing to get your whole body onto the rink.

after your fourth try, sunghoon is holding back laughter. you glare at him, foot slowly sliding away again.

"want some advice?" he asks, smirking.

you nod, pulling your foot back in.

"when you're ready to step your other foot in, don't push forward with the one on the ice. try to shift your weight to the side. the skate doesn't naturally want to move that way, so it'll basically lock in."

you push your weight sideways, and find yourself with both feet on the rink. you steady yourself with the short wall surrounding the edge, and look over at sunghoon.

"look at that. now, lets really get started. let go of the wall." he says, skating away from you.

letting your fingers pull away from the surface, standing up straight, ankles and knees locked.

"now what?"

"do you want to move forward?" sunghoon asks, twirling figure eights in the center of the rink.

"yeah."

"push your weight to the side on one foot, like before, and then move forward with the other. then switch sides."

when you slowly start skating away from the wall and towards sunghoon, you feel a smile growing on your face.

the rest of the lesson progresses very slowly, you struggle with speeding up and some of the techniques sunghoon tries to teach you, and sunghoon's temper rises higher and higher, but he doesn't break.

not yet.

------</3------

the front door creaks open as you walk inside, and you call out for your roomate. "elissa! are you home?!" you yell, setting your skates by the front door.

"no, i'm in the bahamas." you hear her say from the kitchen.

"so funny," you roll your eyes, moving into the kitchen to find elissa making a bowl of cereal. "guess who i met today?"

"ronald mcdonald?"

"bitch-" you lightly slap her shoulder. "no, park sunghoon."

"and? did you make a fool of yourself at the lesson?"

you roll your eyes and sit down at the island counter. "no. well... as a beginner, not much. but maybe a little"

elissa sits across from you, chewing on her cheerios. "you're going for more, right?"

"might as well. i signed up for the lessons. but not gonna lie, sunghoon is kind of a jerk."

"really?"

"yeah," you say, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. "he was critical of everything and very demeaning... like it's my fault i signed up for classes that are for all levels, including beginners. sorry."

elissa chuckles. "but is he cute in person?"

"very," you say, eyes glazed, your mind picturing how beautiful sunghoon looked at the lesson.

especially when he was on his knees for you.

nope, you can't go there. never gonna happen. he practically hates you.

"... said he was really nice." says elissa.

you were too zoned out to catch what she said. "hmm?" you ask, shaking the image of sunghoon out of your mind.

"i said, my sister's friend said he was really nice. he was a beginner too. so i don't know why sunghoon is treating you weird."

"yeah, i don't know..." you say, drifting back into your sunghoon dreamland.

his hair covering his eyes, his large hands on your skates, holding the blue laces, veins sticking out, his lips that were so easily kissable, so out of reach. every part of him was perfect.

except for his attitude.

------</3------

one week later, you and your car trundle into the parking lot.

you walk into the tent, and sunghoon is sitting on the bench, tying his laces like last week.

"hey." you say, and just like before, he looks up at you through his hair.

"hey," he looks you up and down, again, and nods. "better choice this time." he says, gesturing to your black leggings and army green sweater. "maybe this week you will actually be better. oh wait, it's your skills that are bad."

you frown and sit down on the bench, sliding your skates on and tying them as tight as possible.

"still too loose," sunghoon comments. "give me your foot." he reaches for your leg and pulls your foot into his lap. you have to swivel your body to face him, and your cheeks heat up again. his fingers on your skin felt like fire.

he ties your laces in silence, and when he moves to grab your other foot, you hear a sharp gasp.

"ah, shit," he says, grabbing his hand.

you look up and see his finger cut open, a trickle of blood falling from the slice. his other hand holds it tightly, trying to lessen the blood flow, and you notice a small part of your blade wasn't covered by the gaurd.

you jump up, feeling guilty. "i'm so, so, so, so sorry," you say. "do you have any band aids?"

"in my bag." he says, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking the blood off.

and you couldn't help but stare at the way his lips molded around his thumb as you hand him the bandage. how they wetted his finger so perfectly.

he catches you caught in a trance, a quizzical look upon his face. you immediately look away, embarrassed.

when he had tied the band aid around his finger, he grabs your other leg and reties the laces. you watch his expert fingers dance across your skate, every accidental brush to your skin causing an unsolicited reaction that displayed itself as a redness to your face.

you and sunghoon stand, and he turns to give you his trademark smirk. "you ready, newbie? maybe this week will be better."

with a nod, you follow sunghoon to the rink. this time, you easily step on the ice and move away, but you're no match for sunghoon, who starts twirling with ease.

"this week, we should start an easy routine. it'll help you learn more of the basics."

"okay," you nod along with his words. "what is it?"

"it's a song i choreographed. it's called XO. english or korean version?"

"i dont care," you say, "whatever you think is best."

sunghoon grabs his phone and puts the song on. the instrumentals start and he moves to the center of the rink.

"i'll show you how it's supposed to look, and then we can get started."

you smile and lean back against the wall, and the song starts.

sunghoon starts moving on the ice, and you're easily mesmerized by his skill. he pirouettes and leaps around the rink, and you find yourself caught in his beauty, skill, and grace.

the song plays in the background, the lyrics in korean pairing well with the english ones.

so just say O babe, 저 달을 향해 날아가 볼래

sunghoon twirls back to the center, and bows. when he rises, you can see the gleam in his eyes.

he really loves this.

------</3------

after the lesson, you step out of the rink. your legs are sore and a little shaky, and your palms hurt from how many times you fell. you had lost count at this point.

sunghoon walks into the tent, catching you staring at your reddened hands.

"seven" he says.

"what?"

"you fell seven times... and just a tip, don't have your fingers all spread out when you fall. it's dangerous, especially when there are other people on the ice."

"okay," you start untying your knotted skates. "thanks for the lessons. you're a really good skater. probably the best i've ever seen"

sunghoon nods. "thank you. and you're pretty good for a newbie. you learn quickly."

you laugh cynically. "yeah, i guess i do. how's your thumb?"

"oh... it's fine now. it doesn't sting anymore, so that's good."

"good."

and then you fall into an awkward silence. sunghoon looks at his phone while you take off your skates.

you stand up to leave when sunghoon stops you. "ah... y/n, wait."

you turn around, confused. "whats up?"

"i... never mind. see you next week."

------</3------

it feels like years until your next lesson. when you finally walk into the tent, sunghoon isn't there.

you wait for him, putting on your skates and tying them tighter than humanly possible, and then sit back.

and wait.

and wait some more.

15 minutes later, sunghoon runs into the tent, panting and carrying his bag.

"i'm s-sorry," he says, bending over with his hands on his knees. "c-car broke down. i had to run five blocks."

you look up from your phone, amused. "it's okay, i don't mind waiting."

"y-your skates... are too loose again," he says, standing up. "hang on."

sunghoon sits on the floor in front of you, pulling your foot onto his thigh as he unties your skate. you sigh, even when you thought you had it, you didn't.

he fixes your laces, even thought they feel exactly the same, and starts putting his on. you take a second to look at his pair of skates, old and creased, but somehow still clean and usable.

"how long have you had those?" you ask, pointing to them.

"uhh... almost 10 years i think."

"why so long?"

"my mom gave them to me. it was my birthday present. they still work, so i still use them. plus, they remind me of the person who supported my dreams the most, you know?"

"wow," you say, staring at the faded white material. "that's really cute."

"yeah," he laughs. "cute was really what i was going for."

you fall back into an easy silence. sunghoon pulls out two plastic water bottles from his bag and hands you one. "you might want this today. lets go."

and you follow sunghoon off to the rink, water bottle in hand.

------</3------

"no, you need to tuck your ankle in the back of your knee. kind of like a flamingo." sunghoon demonstrates the position. "not like some russian dancer."

you try again and this time, he nods. "now bend your hips and try to sink lower. lock all of your body and then pop it into a spin."

he shows you how to do it and you try, hitting the move with ease.

"now all together."

you tuck your ankle and practice the full move. sunghoon waves his hand, skating closer to you. "you're not putting it together right."

he moves behind you, adjusting the way your knee held your ankle.

and then he grabs your hips.

and you forget how to breathe.

because with sunghoon's hands touching you, everything feels calm.

but also rough.

the way the pads of his fingers press hard into your skin.

the way his breathing quickens ever so slightly when you turn your head back to look at him.

the way he gets lost in your eyes, and you in his.

and you're suprised to find warmth in them this time. not the same glare you saw before.

tenderness.

"you need to stick your hips out. rotate them. that makes it easier for your body to pop," sunghoon says, breaking whatever moment you just had.

"try again."

------</3------

you turn to sunghoon in the tent, staring into his eyes before you speak.

"i want more classes."

he smirks at you, and you roll your eyes. "because i'm not that good at the routine yet. i want to keep practicing."

sunghoon nods. "okay, lets do it."

before you walk out of the tent, he grabs your wrist.

"i'll even offer a discounted price. half off. if you promise to work your ass off. and practice off the ice."

"don't worry, i can do that." you grin up at him, pulling your wrist out of his grasp. "i knew you liked me."

he sputters, trying to find words. you stand there with your hands on your waist, waiting for his excuse.

"no. absolutely not. i do this with all my students. especially the good ones."

"so i'm a good student?"

his eyes soften. "yeah, you are."

"thanks... i gotta go. see you next week."

you jog to your car, sliding into the drivers seat and turning on the ignition.

you're about to pull out of the lot when you see sunghoon exit the rink and start walking.

"hey!" you call, waving out the window.

he walks up to your car, bending down to look at you.

"what's up?"

"need a ride? your car broke down, right? least i can do for the lessons."

"yeah, that would be great, thanks." he walks to the other side and hops in, his long legs barely fitting behind the front console of your car.

you plug your phone into the charger, and a song starts to play.

XO... XO... kiss me, don't say no

"you like it that much, huh?"

you blush and scramble to change it, but sunghoon stops you.

"it's fine, i like it too."

you start driving, humming along to the song.

and sunghoon hums with you.

------<3------

your car pulls into the parking lot of sunghoon's apartment, easing into a tight spot.

"you wanna come in? for lunch?"

"sure!" you say, stepping out of the car and following him into the complex.

his apartment isn't big or small. it's just average. the kitchen is a nice size, and everything is decorated well, which didn't surprise you. all the furniture and appliances are sleek and modern, something your broke college student ass only dreamed of having.

"damn, sunghoon. this is nice."

he smiles and puts his skates in a bin by the door. "thanks. i worked hard for it."

"i bet."

"do you want a sandwich?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

"that sounds awesome. anything i can do to help?"

"nah, just sit there and look pretty."

both of you freeze at the words that just came out of his mouth.

sit there and look pretty.

and neither one of you mentions it.

------<3------

"okay, my turn. what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

you and sunghoon spent lunch asking each other questions ranging from what's your favorite color? to when did you realize that skating was your dream?

"damn..." says sunghoon. "uhhh... probably the time in first grade when i ate dirt thinking it would impress the girl i liked. i ended up puking right in front of her."

you start laughing, and sunghoon can't help but join you. the way your eyes scrunch up and you try to cover your mouth with your hand mesmerizes him.

you catch him staring, and he looks away.

"when were you the happiest."

you look up, racking through your brain. "honestly, skating with you. it's a nice distraction from all the schoolwork, and you're a really good teacher."

"wow... that's really nice." he says, looking a little shook.

"what's the best thing you did to trick somebody. like anything at all?"

"honest answer?" he asks, looking nervous.

"honest answer."

"so... don't get mad, but you know how your skates are always too loose?"

"mhm..." you look at him expectantly.

"well they aren't. i just really like helping you. it feels good, you know?"

"wait... what?"

sunghoon nods his head, maintaining eye contact with you as he drops the biggest bomb.

"i like you. a lot."

and you sit there, your jaw dropped slightly, thoughts running through your mind faster than sunghoon could skate.

"ah, i'm sorry, i made it too weird, didn't i? just forge-"

you cut him off by placing a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his jaw in your hands as you finally taste them.

finally let them taste you.

and sunghoon doesn't pull away. he doesn't push you away either.

he pulls you closer.

one hand on the back of your head, he moans while pressing his lips deeper into yours, the vibration sending chills through your body. he runs his hand through your hair while he grabs your chin with the other, caressing your skin. he nudges your lips with his tounge, asking for entry.

and you immediately give it to him.

his tounge pushes into your mouth, twirling around yours, tasting you fully, completely.

like he can't get enough of you.

and you cant get enough of him.

------<3------

slap

"ahh... hoonie... please!' you cry, a red mark forming on your ass.

you never thought you'd be here. bent over sunghoon's dining table, both of your clothes somewhere on the floor, your legs spread for him so nicely.

damn, sunghoon loved it.

he bends down and presses a soft kiss where his hand hit you. your legs shake and your cunt drips at the feeling of his lips on you.

you were so wet for him.

he takes a second to smell your pussy, the juices that were already slick between your thighs, dripping down your legs helplessly.

embarrassingly.

he sweeps up your wetness with his tounge, eliciting a loud moan from you, your fists grabbing the edge of the table as he licked up your cunt.

"so wet for me, hmm?" he groans between licks to your core, lapping up your slick like a hungry dog. although you couldn't see it, his cock was hard, standing straight up. but now wasn't time for his release. he had to pleasure you first.

when your legs threaten to give out, he holds you by your hips, obscene slurping sounds coming from where he was eating you.

his teeth lightly nip at your clit, and the overstimulation sends a jolt through your body. you moan his name as you feel yourself climaxing.

"h-hoon.... ah.... i'm gonna cum... shit..." and you scream as your orgasm crashes over you, sunghoon's tounge working you through your high, drinking all of you until there was nothing left but a dull ache between your thighs.

"so beautiful baby," he says, licking his lips. "so delicious."

sunghoon stands behind you and places a kiss to your shoulder, working his way up.

your neck.

your jaw.

when he reached your lips, you can see the remnants of your orgasm on his chin.

and you could taste it in his mouth when he crashes his lips on yours.

he gripped your waist, pressing your chest harder into the table with his. his cock slipped between your thighs, and your sensitive clit could barely handle the contact.

he slowly thrusted between your closed legs, your thighs hugging his hard dick so perfectly, he almost came on the spot.

no. he had to make this perfect for you.

he speeds up, his pelvis slapping hard against your ass every time he pushed in. you moan deeply into the table, and his hand snakes up to grab the back of your neck, holding you down as your back arched.

he grunts as his orgasm starts to take over, pulling out from between your legs and keeping himself from cumming.

edging himself out.

so that he could cum inside you.

you whine desperately when he pulls out, shamelessly wiggling your ass at him, begging for more.

his deep chuckle echoes in your ears. "such a needy little baby, huh? what do you want, princess?" he asks, bringing his lips to your ear, whispering sultrily to you.

"need your cock, please hoonie... please, please, need you in me."

he groans at the way you wiggle in front of him, begging, pleading for him to ruin you.

and he doesn't hold back.

he grabs your legs and spreads them wide, exposing your cunt to the cold afternoon air.

when sunghoon rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, you whimper, so utterly wrecked for him. so perfect for him.

you slightly sway your hips around him, eliciting a groan from his perfect lips.

and without warning, he pushes inside you.

his thick cock stretches your little hole so much, all you can do is squirm, little yelps cried out with every small push into you.

sunghoon moans. "fuck, y/n... you're so damn tight... shit, baby, i'm not gonnna last long."

"s'okay," you whine. "fill me up, please hoonie... pleasepleaseplease..." your words trail off as he bottoms out, your pussy clenching around him like a vice, sucking him deeper and deeper in.

and then he moves.

he pulls out of your dripping hole and slams back in, tears already starting to form in your eyes.

and he thrusts again.

and again.

he pounds into you so powerfully, you feel like you're about to be split open. all you can do is helplessly whine as sunghoon hits so deep, you can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

with every thrust, a tear falls down your cheek, spilling onto the table as sunghoon pumps into you.

the room is filled with the sounds of skin against skin, your wetness sucking around him, and both of your mingled sounds of lust.

"hoonie... holy fuck, sunghoon..."

he notices the tears painting your face, and leans forward to wipe them with his lips, pressing gentle kisses that were the complete opposite of how hard he was thrusting into you.

"princess, fuck... i'm coming. fuckfuckfuckkk"

you feel sunghoon bury into you one last time as he fills you up, his cum dripping out of your cunt alongside your own.

you both shake with orgasm, and sunghoon presses his lips against your back, riding out his high.

you look over your shoulder at him as he pulls out. his hair is a mess of sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his lips are puffy and swollen from how much he used them on you.

he smiles down at you, motioning for you to stand up.

you turn to face him, and your legs give out.

you sink to the ground, limbs feeling like gelatin, and sunghoon laughs.

"i ruined you that bad?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you.

you whine, defeated. "it's not funny, sunghoon." but you laugh anyways, leaning your head against the leg of the table.

"lets go, baby," he says, reaching for your hand. "i need a shower. care to join?"

"hell yeah," you shakily stand, and sunghoon immediately picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder.

you can't help but laugh as he pats your ass, carrying you into the bathroom.

------<3------

you wake up the next morning to find sunghoon's limbs wrapped tightly around you, and an unknown tee shirt you could only assume was his covering your chest. his hair was messy from sleep, and there was a faint trail of drool falling from his mouth, tiny snores sounding through his nose.

you giggle at how adorable he looks, and he wakes from the feeling of your laughter against his chest.

"hmm? wha-" he looks down at you, a dorky smile spreading across his pink lips. "oh. its you."

"rude." you say, staring up at him. "you drool in your sleep."

"not what i meant." he mumbles, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "and i know. might as well get used to it."

"what does that mean?"

"it means, i'm asking you to be my girlfriend."

you pretend to debate the thought, scratching your chin. "i don't know.... what's in it for me?"

sunghoon laughs and plays along. "hmm. how about free skating lessons and my amazing, award winning, delicious, bisquick waffles for breakfast?"

you smile up at him, catching his eyes. "of course, sunghoon. i would love to be your girlfriend."

------<3------

a.n- oh dear god. this was the fastest and longest fic i've written ㅠㅠ if you liked it, please reblog/comment! and if you have any ideas, feel free to send me an ask, they're always greatly appreciated.

also- if anybody is interested in a part 2 for this fic, i have some ideas. lmk if you want to see it hehe

masterlist

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for catwithakufi behind the cut; “Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Typically this receiver is intended to facilitate communication with temporary allies,” Robin says. “It possesses a limited lifespan. However, I would also prefer the method of communication we establish be private, therefore I am uninterested in deciding upon one in front of half the Justice League.” 

Billy thinks the flustered feeling is getting worse, somehow. Robin wants a private method for them to communicate? Like–okay probably that’s just because he’s one of Batman’s kids and all but just–private? 

“Okay!” he manages, and his voice cracks mortifyingly. He tries not to die of embarrassment over that and just grabs the receiver out of Robin’s hand quick to stick in his pocket. “Uh–um, right! Sure! Okay. Uh–thanks? Um–how lightning-proof is this?” 

“. . . not particularly,” Robin admits, frowning like he’s annoyed. Billy might be more concerned about that if Robin, again, weren’t one of Batman’s kids, so probably what he’s annoyed at is himself for not having a lightning-proof communicator on hand. Which, like, they literally only met today, so Billy doesn’t know why he would be. But like, Batman is always like that too, and definitely so’s every single Robin and we-don’t-talk-about-Robin he’s ever met, so . . . yeah, he guesses that’s just normal Bat-stuff and all. 

“Maybe, um, we can figure something out there,” Billy says sheepishly. Like–maybe, anyway. “Oh or I could–” wait, no, Robin said “private”, so actually he shouldn’t say anything else he could do–“do, uh, something. Probably. Maybe.” 

Like, there’s a couple things he could probably do, at least, just– 

“Excellent,” Robin says with a brisk nod, then inclines his head. “I will consult with my own contacts as well. I am certain we will be able to arrange something sufficient for our purposes.” 

Robin is so cool, Billy thinks, and attempts not to blush over again. It’s probably, like, doomed to fail but he can at least try, okay? 

Honestly he’s just gonna be lucky if he doesn’t ending up swooning over the guy or something, but like, in his defense, when he’s his normal size and Robin isn’t freaked-out because he thinks he’s getting ditched by his dad, it is just a lot more obvious how cool he is, okay? Like a whole lot. 

“Cool,” he manages awkwardly. “Um, yeah. Cool!” 

Man, he really hopes Robin’ll think he’s cute too–cool too! Cool! He meant cool! 

Oh gods, Billy thinks, barely repressing a cringe, and is so glad Martian Manhunter couldn’t make today’s meeting. 

He stares even more awkwardly at Robin, trying to figure out something else to say right now that doesn’t sound weird or dumb, and Robin just watches him expectantly like he thinks he’s gonna say something that doesn’t sound weird or dumb and oh gods half the stupid League is here and just watching them and Billy is gonna say something weird and dumb and never gonna live it down ever–

“Doin’ alright down there, Mini-Cap?” Flash asks as he muffles a snicker against his fist. Billy shoots him a look full of daggers. Or, like, lightning. Flash is probably pretty lightning-proof anyway, it’s fine. Fine-ish, which–whatever, not the point anyway. 

“I’m great, yeah. How’re you? How’s your wife doing?” he asks pointedly. “Did she like that one Thai place?” 

“. . . yes,” Flash mutters, dropping his face into his hands. 

“Really, that’s great, I’m so glad to hear that,” Billy says, still eyeing him. Flash does not have room to talk about embarrassing himself in front of his soulmate, dammit. Or like anybody but especially with soulmate stuff! “I thought she would.” 

Flash just faceplants into the table again and covers his head with his arms. Billy feels slightly mollified, but sticks his tongue out at him anyway. Jerk. 

Okay, well, Flash is still being less of a jerk than Superman’s being, he guesses, because Superman just thinks he can’t do his job, apparently, which is whatever, fine, Billy doesn’t even care. It’s fine that literal Superman thinks he can’t do his job, totally. 

Today is maybe kinda like, a little bit of a rollercoaster, he reflects glumly. Like a real big rollercoaster. 

“Don’t you think there’s a somewhat simpler method for you two to be keeping in touch?” Batman asks, and right, Billy thinks as he remembers the absolute biggest jerk in this conversation, and scowls up at stupid friggin’ Batman.

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

Walk Home

Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader x Niragi Suguru

(So apparently I'm doing something right with these two, even though I make them out of character a lot. Anyway, time to take these two out of the comfort of the bedroom and throw you three outside.)

Also wanna say a quick thank you for all the support. I never thought people would actually enjoy anything I wrote. I thought I'd write one thing and then never again. So thank you for all the love.

Love Line Collection.

Summary: The three of you walk home to the beach after a game.

It hurt. Your arm had been cut during the game you three had just finished. Someone from another team had cornered you after you were able to collect an item. So the man thought he could just take it from you, especially since he had a knife in hand. You two fought and you were doing well but he sadly got the upper hand, slashing your arm before grabbing you. However, before anything else could have happened, he was pulled off of you. And as Niragi beat and shot the man, Chishiya placed a hand on your lower back, leading you away from the situation.

The three of you had won. Of course, you had. The three of you worked like a well-oiled machine. Chishiya solved the clues that led you to the items. Niragi stopped anyone who stepped in your way and you got to get the items and keep a hold of them. Of course, your roles overlapped at times. There were times that Niragi's intelligence shined through all the violence when he would solve a clue easily. Or how you could take a person down whilst the boys were distracted and busy, or how Chishiya could slip in and out of a room like a ghost, holding up the item smugly.

"Sweetheart, you need to stay still so Shiya can help you." Niragi told you as he let you squeeze his hand. But it hurt. The cut was stinging and whilst Chishiya was being careful, your moving was not helping at all. The blonde had just finished cleaning the cut and was now bandaging it. The three of you were sat outside of a store that Niragi had ransacked.

"You need to be more careful, this could have been worse," Chishiya told you, his tone dry yet still held worry. He looked from your arm to you and then to Niragi. The two exchanged a look. They had been distracted and you got hurt. Which led to them feeling guilty. They were meant to protect you. To protect each other. You didn't blame them. Why would you? The guy had come out of nowhere.

The blonde finished bandaging your arm.

"Thank you, Doctor." You said with a cheeky tone, hoping to lighten the mood. You leaned forward and kissed the blonde's lips softly, another way to say thank you. You pulled away and turned to Niragi, you pressed a kiss to his lips, just as softly. "Thank you for holding my hand."

Niragi grinned at you. "I know you always want an excuse to hold my hand, baby. But getting hurt is not the way to do it." His words were teasing with a fake mocking tone in there. He stood up, pulling you up by your hand. He then turned to Chishiya and held a hand out to him. Chishiya looked at his hand for a moment.

"Come on, kitten. I won't bite. Until we get home at least." Niragi was suddenly so cocky. Like he hadn't been sitting worrying two minutes ago.

Chishiya let out a scoff but grabbed his hand anyway. "I told you not to call me that." He said as Niragi pulled him up. His words just made Niragi grin wider. Niragi let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body. He wasn't letting you go just yet. He needed you close. His other hand stayed in Chishiya's. He felt a flutter in his stomach as you leaned into his warmth and as Chishiya squeezed his hand for a moment.

You were safe. All three of you were. Niragi wasn't going to let this happen again. Either of you getting hurt was not an option. He mentally scoffed. How had that changed for him? He used to shove his gun in Chishiya's face every chance he got, begging for an excuse to end him. And now- now it didn't feel like an option. Now the mere idea of losing either of you made his chest hurt. He didn't fully understand it, but he didn't hate the feeling.

Chishiya walked, all three of you did. You were heading back to the Beach. Ready to shower and crawl back into bed. He was quiet and whilst the blonde was always quiet, this time felt different. He was lost in his thoughts. You three were faced but you had been hurt. What if they hadn't got there in time? What if they hadn't been there at all? A part of him blamed himself. He had distracted Niragi when he was reading the next clue. Niragi's attention had been on him and not you. Normally Chishiya didn't feel guilt easily. What's done is done. Nothing could change it. But right now, he felt at fault. But he was the only one blaming it on him.

"Chishiya." Your voice came, he could feel a light tug on his pocket. He looked at you. You snuggled into Niragi's side as you looked at the blonde, your arm wrapped around Niragi's back, hand touching Chishiya's pocket. It was only then that he realised how close he was standing to the taller male. Both of you looking at him. You had stopped walking. When had you all stopped walking?

"We couldn't have known it would have happened." You gently pulled away from Niragi and walked to Chishiya. You took his free hand in yours. "He came out of nowhere. I got some good punches in. He was just bigger, stronger. He saw an advantage and he took it. But you and Niragi swooped in and helped me. I don't want either of you to feel bad about this. We're still here." You wanted to ease not only Chishiya's mind but Niragi's as well.

The two males looked at each other. Everything and nothing was said in the look they shared. Chishiya took in a breath. He felt light. Niragi shook his head and looked between the two of you. "Come on let's go home." He said as he squeezed Chishiya's hand. The blonde nodded his head. Niragi let go of the blonde's hand and wrapped his arm around his shoulder instead. He then wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you close, causing you to let out a surprised squeal. "Niragi."

You moved a hand behind Niragi's back, your hand connecting with Chishiya's. All three of you held each other. You were safe and connected, and you headed home.

"You used your brain tonight. Not as dumb as I assumed."

"Ah shut up."

You giggled. They were back to bickering. The walk was long, and Niragi shot a car or two, and the boys bickered. You listened, chiming in when needed, but the three of you stayed connected. Letting the breeze guide you back to the Beach, back to your room, where you could all get some much-deserved sleep in the arms of each other.

Taglist:

@thecheshireprincess

@mocchii-writes

@moonchild323232

@potato-vagina

[scramjettracy]

Given your earlier ask about it being your decision, and that you’re still in charge now - what was worse; hydrofoil crash or Thunderbird Four squish?

I don’t make a point of ranking the near death experiences of my loved ones.

It isn’t something you get used to.

Every time one of them has a close call I wish I’d stopped it happening. Never let them be in a position where they can be hurt.

Every time I promise this is the last time. That if only they can be ok, if we can just cheat reality one more time then that is it - I’ll stop it all. I’ll shut it all down and never ask them to do anything unsafe again.

Every time they’ve told me, no. That IR is as much theirs as mine, or Dad’s. That they are choosing this way of life. That I am not responsible for their choices. I’ve never quite believed it but that same thing about freedom again - who am I to say no just because I want to avoid that fear that consumes me every time?

That last time with Thunderbird Four and when Gordon was so broken… again… I was done. I told John we were done. Our family had given enough. Gordon especially didn’t deserve this again. And it wasn’t even an accident it was deliberate and I… I felt the world didn’t deserve his sacrifice even if he wanted to give it. I was going to make the opposite decision to the one I made when a seventeen year old presented me with a permission form - I was going to decide on behalf of everybody that IR was stopping, at least for the foreseeable, and we would focus instead on helping the GDF develop adequate technologies to create an alternative.

Then Gordon woke up. And we found out about… the Oort Cloud business… and… things got away from me. I had still intended Dad’s rescue to be our last. But something about making that trip, the five of us together… I could see it in all of them that this was living. This was how we are meant to be. Never giving up, making the impossible leaps. I couldn’t stop any of them any more than I could stop them being a Tracy.

I know, logically, that… one day, a leap one of us makes is going to turn out to be impossible after all. Selfishly I hope it is one that I make, because I don’t know how I would survive it being one of them. I’ll get shouted at for that. But I wouldn’t want to leave them either, they don’t deserve to lose anyone else.

And so we are going to have to keep being lucky.

I can’t answer your question, Anon, because there isn’t really an answer.

I’m not entirely sure it was wise to try but I’ll blame that on a long day and the small whisky I had after reading Gordon’s post about that first decision. Will probably get EOS to nuke it shortly.

[emeraldtortoiseshell]

@cabbt made an interesting observation about The Ancient One's nickname for Leo, and it got me thinking.

So, throughout the episode that shares his name, The Ancient One repeatedly calls Leo "kumquat".

I must admit: I had no idea what a kumquat was back in the 2000's. For some reason, I thought it was a type of cucumber or gherkin - maybe I just assumed it was something green to match Leo's skin? Plus, cucumbers and turtles/kappas have a connection in Japanese folklore, so it made sense in my head, at least 😅

But no. This is a kumquat:

It's a small citrus fruit, like a sour orange.

So, why did The Ancient One repeatedly call Leo "kumquat"? It's not even remotely connected to Leo or his colour scheme.

Maybe it's like the British expression of calling someone a "plum" as a lighthearted way of saying "you silly fool"? But the only source I can find for the use of 'kumquat' as slang comes from this site, which takes the wording directly from Urban Dictionary. And since neither gives a source (and anyone can submit anything to UD), I'm hesitant to believe that The Ancient One is repeatedly calling poor Leo "a young individual who goes through life constantly disappointing people with his/her infinite failures.” Ouch.

I dunno, I could well be wrong. If anyone is familiar with the term, or has heard it used in such a way, please let me know. But it just seems too harsh for what was, at the end of the day, a kid's show. Plus, the episode Fathers and Sons reveals that The Ancient One had already met Leo before, and seemed quite fond of him and his brothers. Even if Splinter wrote to him to tell him about what Leo was going through, such an insulting nickname seems uncalled for and unexpected.

I'd like to suggest 2 different, but complementary, explanations for The Ancient One's choice of nickname for Leo.

1. Kumquats may be orange when ripe, but while still growing, they're green

Perhaps The Ancient One is linking Leo's green skin to an unripe kumquat, telling him he's inexperienced and still growing/learning. Perhaps, in a roundabout way, he's saying "Give yourself time. You're not yet ready to understand the emotions churning within you, but you'll get there."

Or 2. Kumquats have got a thick outer rind, and the fruit within is said to be rather sour. Perhaps The Ancient One is noting the heavy walls Leo has put up around himself, and how bitter he has become on the inside. He drops the nickname "kumquat" once Leo lets go of his inner anger and starts to forgive himself for what he couldn't do.

He only uses it again to warn Leo to go home when his family is in danger, and even then, he uses his real name twice and "kumquat" only once.

Perhaps "kumquat" is a nickname with a meaning - like 'Splinter' - to warn Leo not to fall back into the darkness that almost consumed him?

But I don't think it's ever meant harshly.

Or, maybe the writers just wanted a silly nickname for the Ancient One to call Leo, and the picked the first East Asian fruit they could find ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I may be wrong. But that's just my interpretation. I'm interested to hear what other people think, and if anyone else has any other theories.

[iscdisc]

Platonic 2012 Capril rambling-

Because I can't do art today (I'm not at my drawing tablet today- 😔), I'm just going to ramble a bit- Lmao

I know the writers for this series dropped the ball with a lot of relationships / development of main relationships (i.e. Some of the brother dynamics like Donnie with Raph or even Leo to an extent, April with all of the brothers basically, Splinter with his kids, etc.), so I don't know how generous I can reasonably be with this specific topic here, but something I personally think is really neat (Especially if intentional-) is April and Casey's dynamic during the Farmhouse Arc !

In the first episode of Season 3 (EP 1, "Within the Woods"-), we see this turbulence between Casey and April over the situation that their in upon Casey asking April if something was wrong considering her distance towards him as of late (Mind you, they're three months into their stay at April's family Farmhouse in upstate New York-). She blows up on him a bit, believing he's being unreasonable with this question and asking too much of her (At least, that's my interpretation of her words-). I know I'm very 2012 Casey biased, so it's completely fine if you disagree with me here, but I personally don't believe Casey meant anything malicious or manipulative by this question-?

It seemed very genuine and implies the two have a close enough relationship for Casey to notice her (mentally / emotionally) pulling away- I can understand his asking personally, since I would probably do the same in his position. It also could've been his way of reaching out, and since he often gets misunderstood despite his good intentions, April took it the wrong way (Not trying to say she was "in the wrong", but it did feel a bit of an overreaction in my eyes. I personally feel like she was just stressed out and shaken up in that moment, as we see in the screenshot above April getting spooked by a tree branch in this same scene scenario, which led her to take it out on him-).

As shitty as this scene is (For Casey specifically, especially considering he was very understanding and didn't make her feel bad for it or even bring it up again at all-), I mention it because of what we see with the two episodes later. In S3 EP 3, "Buried Secrets"-

Out of everyone April could've gone to about her Mother / the ultimatum she was being presented with by said Mother, she went to Casey about it. Besides S2 EP 9, "The Kraang Conspiracy", April doesn't talk about her Mother much with the Turtles (The Brothers were only exposed to her Mother via Kurtzman as well, not April herself volunteering that information-). The only ones we've seen April open up to about her Mother (On her own accord-) are Karai in Season 1 (EP 21, "Karai's Vendetta"-) and now Casey in Season 3. This felt like such a significant moment given the interaction we see them have in, "Within the Woods". It seems like Casey was proven to be genuine in his concern for April as her friend and April truly acknowledges that better now. Why else would April choose to be so vulnerable with him after having such a shitty moment together episodes prior (Where she felt he was being very insensitive / inconsiderate of her feelings-)?

I also have a personal theory that these two were testing the waters of a relationship during Season 2 (Which I've mentioned before-), and if my theory is correct, that could also contribute to their closeness and April's willingness to share such personal things with him specifically. Also given this theory, I'm not saying it wouldn't have been surprising if April thought Casey was attempting to "weasel his way back in romantically" when he asked her about whether or not they were okay during, "Within the Woods" (Which feels substantiated by Donnie making such a emphasized point about them being "two teens who like each other going into the woods alone" a scene prior-), but like I said before I really don't think that's what Casey was trying to do at all. I think he was being genuine.

I just really like this moment that they share here, and it really seems like their dynamic is moving towards a more platonic direction- We can even backtrack a bit to the beginning of this episode when they're having the cleaning montage- Even this had a different energy to it for me personally. I feel like from this episode ("Buried Secrets"-) moving forward, a lot of the "advances" Casey makes towards April come off kind of jokey and very clearly not taken seriously by April whatsoever.

Maybe I could be wrong, but it really felt like two exes (Or rather two people who were exploring a relationship but then that fell through-)?? Casey's going to poke fun because that's just in his nature, and they both know where they stand with each other now so April's not going to really comment on it and just find these jokes "annoying" (But in a way that you find your friend annoying, you know?).

It's also the way that April seems to be a lot livelier as a person with Casey, which I think also speaks to their better grounded friendship (And possible implication of romantic closeness, since that past vulnerability could have made it easier for April to really be herself around / with Casey ! Definitely not in the way she can "be herself" around Donnie, since in my personal opinion, it always feels like she's putting on some kind of face for him-). I didn't get a screenshot of it, but the moment between them at the end of this specific episode (S3 EP 8, "Vision Quest"-) speaks to that too in my opinion. The little banter that they're having over April breaking the wood and the finger snaps thing that she afterwards- I'm just saying that we don't get this kind of energy from April outside of her interactions with Casey (In my opinion-). Lmao

Again, I don't know how much I can attribute this to the writing since I'm not entirely sure that this was an intentional thing, but I think regardless it's cool to see their dynamic throughout the Farmhouse Arc !

I also really like this particular platonic closeness between Casey and April (Especially under the context that they were a relationship that didn't work out but are still super close / have moved on from it-), because I feel like this would be a better way to explain Casey's continued "protectiveness" over April + annoyance with Donnie in relation to her. Not that I'm trying to shit talk 2012 Donnie here, but he is a massive weirdo towards her for a significant amount of time in the series and I'm sure if April and Casey are as close as I'm assuming they are during this time, April has expressed that to Casey before. So it's kind of nice to view Casey continuing to be this way towards Donnie as a means of defending April from uncomfortable interactions with Donnie rather than him still seeing himself as a viable candidate for her "love" or something- You know what I mean?

Although, I know this particular instance (From "Buried Secrets"-) doesn't exactly hold up as well as I would like it to here, given the episode prior (EP 2, "A Foot Too Big"-), April literally kissed Donnie- Like legitimately kissed Donnie. So I can't exactly say Donnie's persistence here "doesn't make sense", cause April really was giving off some weird signals / messages. Again, as always, we can thank the piss poor writing. Lmao

There's also this moment that I wanted to talk about outside of The Farmhouse Arc when they return to New York City (Specifically from S3 EP 10, "Serpent Hunt"-). Objectively speaking, this felt like kind of a weird moment from April that I didn't really understand? From a canonical writing perspective, this came off as the writers trying to still continue this, "Will they, won't they?" aspect of April and Casey's relationship-?? But maybe this thing can be viewed as April possibly reminiscing fondly about the past (If my theory about them having a failed relationship throughout Season 2 is accurate-) and appreciating Casey still being by her side? I honestly feel like I'm grasping at straws with this interpretation- LMAO

Anyway that's my ramble about those two- They just felt like a lot of lost / wasted potential as far as like having a boy and girl friendship that wasn't weird? Lmao ✨

[quibbs126]

So I don’t really know why I made this, but I did. I think I was just thinking about doing practice sketches of random characters, and g1 Megatron just so happened to be who I choose. Not sure why

Also featuring the Procreate pencil for lining and shading, for no real reason, I just felt like experimenting with it. It was fun, even if I admit the shading’s a bit strange and inconsistent (smudged in some places, not in others)

I think he looks better than my previous attempt, even though I know his colors might be too saturated as is? But you know, whatever

Not sure if I have much else to say, other than maybe rambling about g1 Megatron

So g1 Megs, am I right? He’s fun, he’s weird, he’s surprisingly competent at building stuff, he’s usually the one making the Decepticon devices

I actually meant to say in another post but my brain keeps thinking about the scene in Five Faces of Darkness that shows us Megatron was seemingly built by the Constructicons, which funnily enough isn’t a thing they tend to do, they aren’t usually the ones making new Decepticons. Also there’s the inconsistency of the lore, but to be honest the Decepticon backstory in this episode felt inconsistent with what we saw in Season 2 anyways, so oh well. The point I wanted to bring up is that it gives me this idea of Megatron having been raised by the Constructicons or something, which you could maybe retroactively use as another explanation as to why he wanted them for the Decepticons, but it also could be tied into Megatron’s engineering prowess. They seem more architecture focused and him more machine focused, but I think both are capable of the other and it weirdly fits. I kind of need to see this idea explored more

Also, his bucket head is a complete lie once you see the toy and I need a design to actually acknowledge that his weird brow thing is actually supposed to be the front of his helmet and it is not a weird eyebrow thing. Acknowledge it at least, I don’t want it as just his eyebrows, make it a battle mask or something

Another thing related to g1 Megs, I watched a video about him in g1 and it pointed out that Frank Welker chose an atypical voice for the main villain, with him sounding very old and aged, and this is also something other characters mention in the show, that he’s generally old (though then there’s the Constructicons but whatever, Season 3 retcon). But also then they talked about how when Frank Welker comes back as Galvatron, he has a much younger sounding voice, and while it might just be the purple, he looks a bit younger too? Which is strange to me, because he is Megatron, just reformatted into Galvatron. What caused him to become younger? I know his personality changed too, but that can probably be attributed to his year long soak in plasma, I think that was the intention. There’s not much explanation for this, I think because it’s not addressed in the show, it’s just a design detail (but I don’t know for sure since I haven’t finished Season 3)

And there also is the question of Megatron when it comes to Galvatron. Because he feels like a completely different character, even though they’re supposed to be the same person. Is Galvatron an entirely different personality, and the original Megatron is still in there somewhere? I doubt this show ever goes into it, but I’d like other shows to acknowledge the Megatron/Galvatron situation. I think in other series they either make Galvatron entirely Megatron, just with a new name, or they’re separate characters in IDW, but I don’t think I like that. I want them to be intrinsically the same person, or similar-ish, like Galvatron was originally a clone of Megatron so they can both be here, but different in personality so that there’s this contrast between the two of them and who they are in relation to one another. Does that make sense? I’m not sure it does, but I want an in-between because I think it’d be interesting to explore. Maybe another version could be that Megatron and Galvatron are two personalities inhabiting the same body, possibly Galvatron forming after a certain story event, and the two fighting for control

And I can’t really think of much else to say on g1 Megatron, at least that I haven’t said already somewhere else. He’s fun, and probably has more things you can explore with him from here than what usually is. If that also makes sense

Oh yeah and I drew a thing. Forgot about that, I kind of ended up using it as a reason to ramble about him in this show. But I mean, attaching an art piece usually seems to get more people to see my stuff, and I didn’t ramble on the sketching for too long, so maybe this means more people see my thoughts on him? I don’t know

[axilarycobra]

Don't think I've ever said anything about a confession but I saw something else today about LGBTQ rep in WoF so I've already had my gears turning about this today. Also this isn't meant to be an argument or anything, I think anyone is allowed to have any opinions or feel any feelings they have, this is just my personal thoughts on the matter.

I'm a queer person myself and a writer so from my experiences, writing about a character you understand is a lot easier than writing about a character who is going through something or experiencing something you have never experienced. I find myself writing lots and lots of queer characters because I'm queer, so making a character queer is my first instinct. I sometimes even find writing straight characters or straight relaitonships difficult.

Tui is not queer (afaik, I'd say she's probably said she's straight somehwere but even if not, I don't think we have any reason to think she's queer). And I have to assume, like how I do when I write, her first instinct is probably that her characters are straight (or at least not explicitly queer, as not a lot of her characters are explicitly straight).

Maybe a hot-ish take but I don't think any author owes queer characters in their series. Tui is a very openly supportive author and she has written queer characters in the series, but she also did research in order to do that, and had sensitivity readers who helped check her to make sure it was well written. Making a large amount of her characters LGBTQ can be difficult because of the effort she puts into checking in with others to give good representation; something a queer writer wouldn't necessarily have to do since us queer writers get to pull from our own personal experiences like how Tui does when she writes straight characters.

And honeslty, if Tui sees her characters as straight, then I feel like nothing can really be said about that. Even with all my LGBTQ headcanons for the series, I don't see them as canon and honestly I wouldn't really want them to be canon.

The world in the series, despite lacking homophobia and transphobia, feels like the real world when it comes to LGBTQ representation. I don't necessarily see it as being more heteronormative than the outside world. Even as a queer person (and honestly, as a queer person with the experiences I go through daily), I assume everyone I interact with is straight, and if they all were, I wouldn't really find that to be not normal.

Not saying you can't wish there was more LGBTQ representation in media, of course I wished there was more representation in Wings of Fire. But also I think when reading a series by a straight author, herteronormativity is much expected.

(Also side note, another reason why the earlier parts of the series may not have as much representation is because the publishing world hasn't always had the same opinion on everything for as long as the series has existed. Gay marriage wasn't even legalised in the U.S. until a few days before Winter Turning came out. I remember Tui said in an interview once that in one of her books before Wings of Fire, she wanted to include a same-sex couple but Scholastic wasn't a big fan of it. Tui wasn't the only person who was making decisions on what got into her books or not).

While I really love the queer representation we get in later books, the second and especially first arc are sometimes hard for me to go back and read because of how incredibly heteronormative they are. Like, it’s usually just small details: why did Tsunami only have a crush on Clay and Starflight when she was little for instance? Isn’t it kind of frequently said that they all consider Glory to be ‘the pretty one’ or why was Fatespeaker immediately like weirdly jealous of Sunny when by all accounts they have way more in common with each other than with Starflight?

But then there’s the Big Stuff that have affected whole character arcs or possible future romances with characters I really love. Tsunami and Riptide only feel like a thing because it’s a boy seawing and girl seawing so ofc they’re gonna kiss! And Qibli’s romance with Moon is just. Messy and weirdly backfilled. So many people have noticed the better development/dynamic he has with Winter but honestly I kind of think out of the Jade Winglet? Qibli has the *least* chemistry with Moon. Like. His energy and hyperactive mind seem like they’d mesh better with Kinkajou and I think he’s just had way more meaningful moments with Turtle (He confessed his deepest, darkest wish to be an animus not to Moon, not to Winter, but Turtle! Like that’s gotta count for something)

Anyway yeah. Going back (again especially to the first arc) sometimes feels like I’m not even in the same universe because of how much every dragon we encounter is assumed to be straight.

.

[loud-whistling-yes]

nobody touch me i just read kj encore and SO NO ONE'S GONNA FUCKING TALK ABOUT HACHI COMPETING WITH JOKER TO BECOME A THIEF???????

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[youremyonlyhope]

.

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[mixingandmelting]

Inconspicuous Relationship

Summary: Everyone in the family thinks the two of you hadn’t tied the knot and keeps playing matchmaker. He, being the troll he is, decides to roll with it

He told you it was going to be fine. To leave it to him; his plan was going to be flawless. Flawless his ass. You’re dying from second-hand embarrassment and Jason’s not helping with that shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You know, Gotham Park is apparently considered one of the prettiest in the city during all four seasons.” Steph starts, sending you a look across the dinner table. “Wouldn’t it be so romantic to go there, especially for a first date?”

You beg to the higher beings that your cringe isn��t visible in your smile as you hummed in agreement. You’ve been enduring this since the beginning of the family dinner where the siblings kept dropping obvious hints for the two of you to get the ship sailing. And Jason being Jason, went along with it all the while ignoring the secret glares you give him. For Pete’s sake, he was even playing footsies under the table!  

“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” You hiss under your breath as Tim and Dick, surprisingly, voice out in agreement how Gotham Park was the last place to go on a date, their expressions speaking for the horrors they’ve seen there. 

“Yeah? Why? You don’t like how my plan’s going so far?” You scowl, kicking his foot away when he prod your foot again with his. He gives you a cheeky smirk in response. 

Checking and seeing Steph getting into a squabble with the other over the apparent controversial site, you lean closer towards him. 

“You call this a plan?”

“If not, then what is it?” He chugs the water in his glass, waving a hand towards them. “Besides, over half of them are grown ups. They’ll get it one way or another.”

If you’re not dying from embarrassment, you’re dying from stress. It’s clear as day that he’s in it for the chaos while you’re simply wanting to rip the bandage and get this over. Just when you’re about to snap at him, you catch Damian staring at both of you across the table. Quickly, you compose yourself, the same smile you had on for Steph now directed at the fourteen year-old.

“What’s wrong Damian? Need something?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, his gaze blank and revealing nothing. You can feel sweat accumulate in your hands, the urge to swat at the man beside you getting stronger at the coughs he lets out that’s meant to cover his laughter. 

“I simply don’t get it.” The teen then takes a bite of his steak and thoughtfully chews on it. “Why can’t Jason simply ask you out for a date when he’s completely smothered for you?” 

Cue the room going completely  dead silent. Well, sans Duke pounding his chest from choking on his food. You would’ve, at least, chuckle at had it not been for you steaming up. 

“D-Damian? Damian buddy?” Dick calls out from his seat, his voice slightly pitched. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t be the only one that’s getting tired of them beating around the bush, Richard. I’m simply spelling it out, that’s all.”

“Damian-“

“No, Damian’s right.” All eyes set on Jason, who puts the silverware down and leans back on his chair. “It’s not like I’ve been really meaning to hide it anyways so,” he turns toward you, “what do you think of Saturday, 1:00 PM at your favorite place you like going to?” 

…You can’t do this. This man and his theatrics; you wanted to scream how he had already asked about it last week. Tell them they’re getting scammed,  it’s not even the first date-! 

But Damian’s words keep echoing in your mind and the fact Jason knows that you know that it’s true is messing with you so badly. It prevents you from trying to calm everyone down, the family up and arms at the “horrible” confession Jason gave as he merely shrugs and asks what else he was supposed to do.  You further baffle them when you muster a nod, your hands still covering your very much burning face. 

Later on, when Bruce comes back from the supposed emergency phone call, he pulls you and Jason to the side. It was one thing to hear Bruce Wayne giving his approval and blessing (for some reason) for you two’s relationship. It was another when finding out this whole thing was indeed staged by both Jason AND Bruce to get back at the rest of the family for a prank that occurred last week during a joint mission as the older man asked the younger if everything went accordingly. 

You decide to give Jason a piece of your mind once the two of you got home which led to him to follow you around and ask you to reconsider calling him by his full name for the rest of the week.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Good evening to you. I thought about writing you many times but never had the courage to do so 😅 I saw a TikTok Trend some time ago and thought about the Reaction from our beloved task Force 141. How would they react when you "accidentally" sent them the message "He just left our house, you can come now. He'll be gone for some time". Basically pranking them by implying something shady. You can ignore this if it's weird of course. Thank you for your time and amazing writing 🙏😊

I'm so glad you finally got the courage to send in a request because I had so much fun with this one! Many many thanks because I pretty much cackled and giggled the whole time I wrote this. I'm not exaggerating. I adored this prompt. It not only gave me room for a little humor, but it also gave me the opportunity to be a little naughty!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & shenanigans, suggestive themes, mild sexual content, dirty talk, dirty thoughts, swearing, possessive behavior

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Five minutes.

Five. Minutes.

Five minutes and you're already causing problems.

John isn't surprised. Not in the least. Sometimes, you enjoy being on your worst behavior just because it stirs him into a frenzy.

John is sitting at a stoplight, staring down at his phone screen. A car honks but he ignores it.

He's gone. Come over.

There isn't anyone else. John knows this explicitly. Not because he completely trusts you—which he does—but because he knows your exact location at all times. He knows what you search on your phone and what things you look at on the internet. And because he knows that, he knows you're just trying to take the piss.

Locking his phone screen, John turns on his blinker. A few turns later and he's back home, marching through the door. He's not mad. Far from it. You just need a good lesson—a good spanking. Over his knee with a bare ass. That way he can watch it bounce, watch as you wiggle and squirm, hear you whimper, and watch as your arousal grows with each strike.

Then, and only then, will he keep you under him. Which is what you want anyway.

John walks silently and with purpose, approaching you as you casually lounge on the couch.

"You're home early."

John ignores the jab. "You're on one today, cabbage."

"Whatever do you mean?"

John holds up his phone. "Think I'm going to believe this?"

Your eyes widen but John can see the bluff. "I meant to send that to—"

"To me," interrupts John. “You meant to send it to me.”

"To a friend,” you correct, but John notices the smile you attempt to hide. “I meant to send it to a friend.”

No. You wanted John to come home—to be a bit neurotic, even a little possessive.

"Fine," growls John. "I'll bite."

He places one hand on the top of the back cushion while the other rests above your head. He leans in, lowering his voice.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"Show me you mean it."

You tuck your knees in, drawing back your top and removing your lounge pants. When they're gone, you spread wide, revealing your glistening pussy. Your arousal is clear, and John cannot wait to sink inside.

"That's my good girl."

John "Soap" MacTavish

You sent the texts not long after Johnny left for work.

He’s gone. Won’t be home for hours. Come over.

At first, you believed that Johnny would get those texts and immediately turn around, to head home and bust down the door. He did no such thing. He didn’t even respond. Not a peep from him. You spent the rest of the day in limbo, unsure if Johnny received the texts at all.

So, when he does come home, you expect him to say something.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, going in for a kiss.

“How was work?” you ask.

“Good,” he replies, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “Had a briefing. We’ll be heading out for a mission next week.”

“Do you know when exactly?” you ask.

“Tuesday!” he calls back.

Nothing. This man is completely glossing over the fact that you sent those texts to him. When he reappears in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, you nearly swoon at his bare chest and stomach.

“What did you get up to today?” he asks, sauntering over to grasp your hips and pull you close.

“Nothing much,” you reply, and Johnny hums in reply, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know,” he says after a beat, fishing out his phone from his pocket. “You did send me a few odd texts earlier.” He taps away at the screen at turns it around to show you.

The texts you sent are right there, glowing brightly.

“Oh, those—”

“I checked the cameras.”

“Cameras?” you choke. “What cameras?”

Johnny grins and then he’s tapping away at his phone again. When he shifts the screen around, you see yourself and him in real time. You turn to the corner of the room from where the feed is coming from.

“I never saw anyone come over. But I did see this.”

Tapping again, he changes to an earlier time during the day. It’s a feed of the bedroom, and you’re masturbating. Johnny ups the volume and you hear yourself moan.

“There’s this, too,” he says, switching to the night before when he had you on all fours, ass in the air.

“Johnny!”

He tightens his hand on your hip, keeping you close. Lowering his voice, Johnny grins. “Try again, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You watch from the window as Simon’s car pulls out of the drive. You wait until he turns the corner before unlocking your phone and selecting his name.

He’s just left. Come over.

With a wicked grin, you hit send, knowing that the texts will reach Simon any second. Leaning against the window, you wait, and then smile wider as Simon’s car sharply turns the corner and speeds down the street back to the house.

He’s hardly parked the car before he’s exiting the vehicle, storming toward the house, malicious intent clear with every step. With a triumphant giggle, you rush to the bedroom and flop onto the bed, pretending that you’re up to nothing at all.

You hear the front door slam, then Simon’s thunderous footsteps followed by doors opening and closing. Sprawling out across the bed, you tap away at your phone, acting like you're not bothered at all.

When he appears in the doorway, you deliberately ignore him for five long seconds before you casually turn your head and smile.

"You're home early," you observe.

Simon looms in the doorway. "What the bloody hell was that text about?"

"What text?" you shrug, all innocence.

Simon, deadpan, replies "He's just left. Come over."

"Oh. That was for a friend."

"Which friend?"

"A friend."

Simon slowly walks up to the side of the bed. "You're fucking with me."

"Don't know what you're on about, Simon."

The murderous demeanor you saw earlier melts away, leaving behind a mischievous glint that you know all too well. With a viper-like quickness, Simon grasps your ankle and yanks you to the end of the bed.

"Simon!" you shriek, but he's already flipping you over onto your stomach.

He plants both knees on either side of you, keeping you trapped beneath him, his large hands coming down on your wrists to pin them above your head.

"Was last night not enough?" he asks, voice a gruff whisper. "Or do you need another lesson?"

You lift your head as Simon transfers both wrists beneath one hand. He has his phone, tapping away at the screen.

'What are you doing?"

"Telling Price I'm not coming in."

"But you're scheduled."

Simon locks the phone and then tosses it to the side. "He'll understand." Pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice drops to a breathy whisper. "I have a woman to breed."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It's cruel, perhaps. Even mean. But getting Kyle worked up is so goddamn sweet.

He’s protective, sometimes even a bit possessive, and nothing is hotter to you than watching him stake his claim.

Which is why you sent those texts in the first place—a way to make his heartrate spike.

He just left. He'll be gone for hours.

Kyle bursts through the bedroom door, his chest heaving as if he just ran several miles.

“Where are they?” he asks, voice a growl.

Kyle heads for the bathroom. Throwing open the door, he storms inside, but finding nothing, retreats back into the bedroom.

"Where's who?" you ask in mock innocence as Kyle opens the closet, pushing aside clothes as if he’ll find someone hiding there.

Kyle exits the closet, hands on his hips. “I saw the texts.”

“What texts?” You casually retrieve your phone, already knowing what you’ll find there. Opening up the messaging app, you click on Kyle’s name, and laugh.

“Sorry,” you giggle. “I meant to send that to a friend.”

Kyle’s eyes shut, and the sigh he makes is so loud you laugh harder. Clutching his own phone in his hand, Kyle shakes it in his fist.

“You’re having a laugh,” he says.

"No," you giggle. "Just a mistake."

That thin line becomes a smirk. Kyle tosses his phone onto the bed and you immediately know you’re done for.

“I know you, love. Think you’re clever, yeah?”

He saunters forward, and you push up onto your hands, sliding back along the bed.

“Kyle,” you warn.

“Tricking me just to get me home. For what? Think I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I think.

You scoot away, sinking into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Kyle matches your movements until he’s nearly horizontal over you.

“You’re right,” he continues. “I will.” His gaze roams over your body and then returns to your face. “But first, I’m going to train you into never making a silly mistake like that ever again.”

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