#up to master if we actually go anywhere though

[quadrantadvisor]

Hey. I don't know anything about comics and I've only ever read random sporadic issues/storylines, so don't listen to anything that I have to say. But I think there was a Joker storyline recently in which there were two Jokers and one of them killed the other, bringing into question whether the current Joker is the original or someone else, and whether or not that distinction even matters when the Joker still exists.

The funniest thing to do at this point (not that I would want to happen or think would or could happen, but what I think would be FUNNY,) is if the Joker got redeemed. A gradual 100% face turn, just changes his mind and becomes a generally nice and helpful dude. And only THEN reveals that he is definitely a different guy from the original Joker.

What I enjoy about this is that it means that Jason and Bruce are simultaneously both right. Was the Joker an irredeemable monster who deserved to die? Yup! The guy who killed Jason was absolutely that and it's a good thing this other guy killed him. Can even the worst person imaginable change their ways, meaning that empathy and life are always the moral choice? Yes! Even the Joker can realize how wrong he was and recover. Both perspectives get irrefutable proof of their legitimacy. Bruce and Jason's relationship has never been worse.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 3

In which you and Max spend the next six months just being obsessed with each other.

Warnings: A little angst, but not 'break up with you' angst, just 'i really fucking miss you' angst so it's okay. And fluff. Tooth achingly sweet fluff. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 4.4k plus a shit ton of social media posts. - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - Master List

(a/n before we begin: Probably one more part to this. Thinking of doing an 'after Max gets you back to the hotel post-race' part to wrap things up nicely if anyone wants to see that.)

Monaco May 2024

F1GossipOfficial posted

34,028 likes F1GossipOfficial Seems as if our favorite Red Bull driver and sunny little podcaster are getting closer! The pair was spotted around Monaco this week ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. The pair have been seen publicly a handful of times since Max made an appearance on her podcast The Yapping Hour in late April, most notably at the Miami Grand Prix at the beginning of the month and then the week later in New York City where she is based. Everyone who sent in photos said the pair were super cozy and seemed lost in their own world. user0299 she's only with him for the clout and money. Her little podcast was dying out and she latched onto Max like a leech. >>>user5572 go touch some grass my man. Her podcast is consistently the number 1 listened to show on all platforms all the fucking time. user9938 they are so cute, i can't handle it user4530 I saw them at dinner the other night and oh my GOD. They sat on the same side of the table even though it was just the two of them. He held her hand underneath the table all through dinner and I don't think either of them stopped smiling or looked anywhere else but at each other the entire night. >>>user39948 they are so fucking perfect oml

Canada June 2024 yourpersonalinsta posted

493,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, totowolff, and others yourpersonalinsta Over the moon to have been able to be with you for this win in Canada, Maxie. user299 MAXIE?! I have no one to talk to about this redbullracing our good luck charm strikes again! >>>user456 Red Bull calling her theirs??? Love this for her. maxverstsppen1 thank you for always being in my corner liefje ❤️ >>>user394 how am i supposed to be normal after reading this??? user8827 Not Toto in the likes trying to get on her good side so Max signs with Merc in 2026 >>>user778 HAHA can you imagine??

Amalfi Coast August 2024

maxverstappen1 posted

987,409 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1 summer break with this gorgeous girl user458 they are my royal couple yourpersonalinsta wishing we were back on that boat rn instead of on different continents :( >>>maxverstappen1 just a few more weeks until Singapore, schatje. >>>user4938 this is my roman empire >>>user024 mom and dad are sad so i am sad too

October 2024 Austin, Texas

You hadn't seen Max in over three weeks. Three very, very, very long weeks. And not to be dramatic or anything but you felt like you might actually pass away if the Uber that was currently picking it's way through very heavy Austin traffic drove any slower.

While the sleek Mercedes SUV waited at a red light, your gaze drifted away from the navigation system showing the the heavy traffic all around you towards the busy city streets around you. Whoever had decided to schedule an Eminem concert, a huge college rivalry football game, and a Formula 1 race all in the same city on the same weekend should have their head examined.

Fixated on the crowd on the sidewalk outside, you mull over the last six months of your life. It has certainly been a whirlwind, that was for sure. If someone had told you back in the beginning of May that you'd be on your way to your sixth Grand Prix of the year to watch your boyfriend race in Formula 1, you would have laughed in their faces. Because really, when you sat back and considered it, the fact that you had gone from being a fan of the sport and interviewing Max on a professional level to dating him in under six months was absolutely wild.

While you attended races whenever you could, you found yourself more often than not called to the other side of the world to attend to your flourishing career. In the last six months you had ping ponged around the globe, bouncing between weekends with Max and over scheduled weeks filled with work, interviews, and meetings. Some days you just wished that things were simpler and you could just dedicate yourself to following Max around from city to city but you knew that Susan B Anthony would roll over in her grave if you gave up everything for a man so quickly, even a man as amazing as Max Verstappen.

You brush aside the thought of leaving your work because in the end, all that is is a simple fantasy brought on by you missing the man that has become the center of your universe lately.

After attending the Singapore GP with Max, you had spent a few extra days with him in Asia before needing to fly home. While Max did have nearly an entire month break from racing, he couldn't follow you to New York like he had intended. After coming back from the summer break, Max's luck had started to slip and the car had deteriorated. He hadn't won a race in months, the car was an absolute tractor, and Lando was gaining on him in the Championship. He had needed to spend every extra moment he had in the sims and with the engineering team trying to salvage the season.

While Max had been in Europe, you had been in the US recording episodes with Heidi Klum, Wayne Gretzky, and finally Kylie Kelce. Heidi had been in LA, Wayne in Florida, and Kylie in Philly so you had spent most of the last three weeks on the road. As the SUV inched closer to the COTA track, you realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd set foot in your apartment.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the realization washes over you. You loved the life you lived, wouldn't trade it for the world but sometimes, in these quiet moments you wished for a break, a chance to go home, wherever that even was now, and just rest.

Your phone buzzing beside you pulls you back to the present. Ysou struggle to shake off the mind numbing melancholy that's settled over you like a thick woolen blanket before answering the call. "Hi baby." You sigh, knowing who it is without even looking at the caller ID.

"What's wrong?" Max's voice is sharp on the other end, effortlessly reading your tone.

You shake your head, chest tightening with anxiety. "Just..." You search for the right words. "tired is all. I just realized I can't even remember the last time I spent a night in my own bed."

"Oh, schatje." Max sighs, knowing how grueling this schedule is as he lives it as well. "Do you want me to have the jet take you home? It's at the airfield still."

Tears collect in your eyes as your chest squeezes painfully. "No, I just want to see you." You whisper, afraid if you raise your voice you'll start to cry.

"How far are you from the track?"

You pop your head around the SUV's headrest to check the nav system. "Not long. Five minutes. I can see the giant observation tower from here."

"Have the Uber bring you right to the paddock gates. I have a car here and a few hours before any media duties. I'll take you back to the hotel myself and we can take a nap together, okay?"

Your entire body sags with relief at his words. If there was one thing that Max was good at, it was taking care of you. He didn't hem and haw or waver on a plan of action. He saw what you needed and made sure that you were taken care of. The way the burden of everything that you had silently carried for years shifted towards Max the moment you landed in Miami all those months ago was something that would shock you for years to come.

"Okay." You whisper, swiping at a single tear that managed to escape.

You have a few moments to collect yourself before the Uber stops at the entrance to the paddock. From your seat in the back, you spot a familiar blonde head that belonged to your Dutch boyfriend waiting for you. You're suddenly simultaneously bursting with excitement and beside yourself with grief as the anxiety that has gnawed at you over the last 24 hours fully consumes you at the mere sight of Max.

Max has you out of the car and into his arms before you can barely catch your breath. The moment you inhale that uniquely Max scent something inside you shifts and becomes crystal clear. You didn't need Max to have his jet take you home because you already were home. It sounded cliche in your head and it probably was, but you knew there was some truth to it: somewhere over the last six months your home had shifted away from your apartment in New York to wherever Max was.

Max tightens his grip around your waist, settling his chin on your head while you stay buried deep in his neck, you realize that home isn't a place any longer. Home is a person now and Max is that person. You don't have to go home to New York to rest, you just have to be in Max's presence. With him, you are utterly and completely safe and secure. For someone who spends 99% of her time 'on' and performing, being able to come home to Max and just switch it all off, allowing him to lead and take over, is the most powerful form of rest you could have ever dreamt of.

Max nods at the driver as he unloads your luggage, arms still locked tight around you. He can feel you melt into him, like you've been waiting for this moment since the last time you saw him. He knows that for him at least, this is true. Everything else in his life is completley falling apart. The car sucks, they had to ditch the special livery for this weekend becuase the fucking paint had the potential to make the car too heavy and slow. Lando has been on a tear lately, that McLaren a complete rocket ship and the only reason Lando hasn't overtaken him in the championship is thanks to some spectacularly shitty calls from the McLaren pit wall.

The only bright spot in Max's day is you. Your voice, your touch, your face. Any bit of you he gets on a daily basis is what keeps him going right now. As he had stood on the curb just moments before, desperately and not so patiently waiting while watching the black Mercedes SUV creep down the street towards him, it had felt like cruel and unusual punishment after being apart from you for so long.

And now? Now you were back in his arms and he drew in the longest breath he could, taking in the scent of your perfume and laundry soap that he had missed so keenly while he'd been working, and he simply couldn't get enough.

Max pulls away slightly, so he can see your pretty face but what he sees in your eyes nearly breaks him. Pain and longing hang heavy in your eyes and there is nothing Max wouldn't do to make all of that go away for you. Fingers tip your chin up towards him so he can finally get his lips on yours, a soft sigh escaping your mouth when he makes that first contact.

You swear it's like a cool drink of water in the middle of a humid heatwave in July, the way Max kisses you with such relief and passion and affection. Like he's trying to tell you through his kiss how much he adores you, how much he's missed you, how much he craves you.

"I love you." Are the first words he says to you and your breath catches in your throat. It isn't the first time he's said those words, Max had said them first all those months back when he brought you home to Monaco. It had been quick, probably too quick by the world's standards, but it just clicked between the two of you and the words had tumbled out of Max like it was the most natural thing in the world. The reason the words had your breath catching in your chest was because of the ferocity behind them, like he could tell how bone tired you were from all the travel over the last few months and he was desperate to remind you why you were doing all of this. Why the two of you were doing all of this together and apart. It was for moments like this, moments where you were attached to each other in the middle of the busy paddock parking lot like no one else existed.

"I love you too, Max." You whisper, dusting your lips over the stubble that was scattered over his jaw. "Can we go take a nap now? I'm so tired."

yourpersonalinsta posted

348,209 likes liked by kyliekelce, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta home is wherever you are (tagged: maxverstappen1) user098 mad max is no more, there is only soft cuddly boyfie max user0399 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen user000 god i am so single maxverstappen1 love you baby >>>danielricciardo SIMP >>>maxverstappen1 absolutely >>>user9938 it kills me that he is loves her so boldly and loudly. girl hit the mfing jackpot. (liked by author)

It's not your alarm that fully wakes you up on Friday morning. It isn't Max's either. But as you try to untangle your limbs from Max's and search for the source of the ringing, you can't help but curse whoever is interrupting the slow sleepy cuddles that had been progressing into something more heated for the past 20 minutes.

You nearly spit you're so mad when you see the caller ID.

"John." You growl, sitting up in bed as Max settles himself back against the mountain of pillows beside you. "It is 8 in the morning on a Friday the day after I saw my boyfriend for the first time in over three weeks. I swear on all things good and holy, this had better be good."

John, to his credit, didn't even scoff at the threat. He'd been your business manager for going on four years now and was used to your early morning attitudes.

"She said yes."

You sit up, back going ramrod straight as the three words clang through you. "What?" You hiss.

Beside you, Max struggles to sit up too, alarm coursing through him at the panic in your voice.

"Tree just called me five minutes ago. Said that Kylie had sent her the episode and wouldn't stop gushing about how amazing you were and how you were the perfect person to do this interview on the end of the tour and everything. Tree said Taylor watched your episode with Michelle and Queen Maxima too, said they were the best interviews she's ever seen. Everything is a go."

Your entire world tilts as what John is telling you fully sinks in. "Taylor Swift's agreed to come on the show?" You voice is weak, heavy under the weight of the news John is telling you. Your hands tremble at the thought of what this means for you. For your career.

Beside you, Max sucks in a breath at your sentence, fully aware of how big of a moment this is for you. Pride soars through him as he watches literal sunshine dance across your face, your smile as bright as the Texas morning light. "Schatje." He whispers, pulling your free hand towards his lips. Your eyes dart over to him and you grin at him, kicking your feet a little, completely unable to hide your excitement.

"She also said yes to your suggestion of a behind the scenes vlog on your channel ahead of the release of the episode. Thought the idea was marketing gold. You've got full access to everything for the entire week."

Before you had landed Kylie Kelce on the show, you and John had made a silly, pie in the sky request to Tree Paine not even thinking that it would go anywhere. When Kylie had agreed to do an episode, a request that had actually been made to her people months before John had contacted Tree, the idea of maybe, just maybe you might be able to land Taylor after had grown a bit. You hadn't told anyone of the request, not even Max, because you didn't want to be embarrassed if it didn't work out.

"There's only one problem." Your heart stops and you grip at Max's hand for support. You knew there had to be a catch. "They want you in Toronto by Sunday."

"Wh-what?" Your stomach plummets through the floor. You had just gotten to Austin last night and now you were going to have to leave again? You were supposed to spend the entire triple header with Max. Three weeks of solid time with him had been the only thing getting you through the previous three week separation. You two had even planned to go visit your parents in Michigan between Austin and Mexico later next week.

"The first concert is Monday and Tree wants you to get as much content as you can and has asked you be there at 9am Monday morning."

You head spins. "Oh-okay." There's a giant Max shaped hole in your heart at what you have to agree to, simply exhausted by the fact that you're going to have to pick up and leave again so soon. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

"Do you want me to have Shannon make flight arrangements?"

You glance over at Max, who senses your apprehension. "Let me talk through it with Max and see what we can figure out. I'll call you in a few hours, okay?"

"Sounds good. Congratulations, kiddo. This is huge."

You smile despite yourself, excitement and anxiety winding their way through your chest making it a little hard to breathe. "Bye John."

You gently place your phone back on the bedside table before turning to Max, bracing yourself for the good and bad news you have to deliver.

"The beginning of that call looked phenomenal but now you look like you're going to be sick." Max observes, pulling you into his lap.

You shudder against when his lips graze your neck, dropping a kiss to his forehead. "Taylor Swift agreed to come on the show and to let me do a weeks worth of behind the scenes of her Toronto shows."

"Baby, that is amazing. This is going to be huge for you and the show!"

You nod, a bit dazed by all of this information you have to process. "But they want me there by Sunday night so I can start first thing Monday." Sadness edges into your voice, the dread of having to leave Max again begins to sink in fully.

"When should Greg have the jet ready to take off then? You'll probably want to leave before the end of the race to beat traffic, yeah? Although I suppose we could find you a helicopter to take you from the track to the airport."

You stare at Max like he's grown three heads. His voice is so nonchalant despite him suggesting he rent you a helicopter that all you can do is blink at him for a few moments. "Just...just like that? You're on board with it? You're not upset?"

Max scoffs, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. His arms go tighter around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Why would I be upset? I'll do anything I can to help you live out this dream, schatje. You know that. This is the biggest thing to happen to your career since you had F1 racing legend Max Verstappen as a guest."

The giggle that tumbles out of you has the tension in the room popping like a soap bubble. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still here." Max finds your lips then, the kiss full of reassurance and confidence. Of course he was disappointed you were going to be leaving in 2 days and he wasn't sure when you'd be back with him but this opportunity was too good to miss. "I'd never forgive myself if you missed spending a week doing what you love with one of your favorite artists because of me. Of course I'll miss you but you need to do this. So tell me, when should I have the jet ready to get you to Toronto?"

yourpersonalinsta story post

story replies: user8882 ARE YOU THERE FOR ERAS TOUR??? user029 what are you up to ma'am??? user837 wait. first kylie's on the show and now you're in Toronto the same week as Taylor. ARE WE GETTING A TAYLOR EPISODE OH MY GOD.

TheYappingHour posted

876,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, alexandrasaintmleux, and others theyappinghour Toronto, you were stunning! Can anyone guess who our next guest on the show is going to be??? Behind the scenes vlog dropping next week ahead of a very very special two part episode set to drop later this month. user928 oh my god, everyone stay calm, it's happening. user020 IS THIS FOR REAL??? I will never recover maxverstappen1 so proud of you my love >>>yourpersonalinsta couldn't do it without you, maxie >>>user928 if there's one thing Max is going to be, it's the first one in the likes and comments on anything his girl does. (liked by yourpersonalinsta) >>>user0298 may this kind of love find me one day

Excerpt from Episode 59 of The Yapping Hour featuring Taylor Swift:

You: Speaking of what you do in your down time, can we talk about how supportive you are of your boyfriend and show up for him despite the Brad's and Chad's hating every second of it?

Taylor: It's so silly to me, how much everyone hates it. When I show up at the game, I'm just like every other significant other. I'm not there to take the spotlight away from anyone, I just want to watch my man play!

You: Oh my God, I totally get it. It's so strange to me the way some fans can't handle someone like you who has a whole other identity outside of who you're dating, showing up to support the person you love.

Taylor: It's like, relax! I'm just here to watch my boyfriend catch a ball!

You: Right? Just let me enjoy watching 20 cars drive around in circles in peace please!

Taylor: You two are so cute though. Trav was watching the race in Monaco a few months back, right after he invested in Alpine, and there was that one shot of you and Max after the end of the race in his garage and you were giving him a hug. I love how loudly you love him and how public he is about you. It's refreshing.

You: Oh gosh, thank you. Yes, he is so supportive of everything I do, just like Travis is. It's such a comfort, isn't it? *Taylor nods* He actually stayed in Austin an extra day so I could use his jet to come up here.

Taylor: Trav was supposed to go to that race but got caught up in training stuff. It looked like so much fun.

You: Have you ever been to a race? Either of you?

Taylor: I haven't but Travis went to the Las Vegas race last year. Said it was the one of the biggest parties he'd ever been to.

You: You'll have to come this year then! It's in a few weeks!

Taylor: I'll talk to Trav and see if we can make it happen.

TheYappingHour posted

1,039,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, kikagomes, and others theyappinghour What an absolute whirlwind of a week and a half. Spending time with your favorite artist, seeing her in her element, and then spending a few hours talking about everything from what it's like to live such a public life to how important it is to have a supportive significant other. I simply can't wait to share the behind the scenes vlog dropping at the end of this week and then the episode later this month. Taylor, you are a dream of a human being and we are so happy to have had this opportunity. Can't wait to see you and Travis at a race! taylorswift You are such a sweetheart! So glad we got to spend time together this past week! Can't wait to hear the episode my love! kikagomes how does it feel to live my dreammmm bestie??? >>>yourpersonalinsta kiks omg i will never recover from this!! maxverstappen1 Proud of you, as always lifeje. >>>yourpersonalinsta can't wait to see you so so so soon baby

"And he doesn't expect a thing?" You glance up at the ticket counter where the airline employee has begun to call first class. You stand, phone still pressed to your ear, pulling your carry on behind you.

"Nope!" On the other end, Max's PR manager Sophie giggles conspiratorially. "He was just complaining to GP ten minutes ago how he couldn't believe they didn't have more flights from Sao Paulo to Paris. He said he was considering upgrading his jet to one with longer range so he could fly private next time."

You roll your eyes but chuckle. If you were a drama queen, your boyfriend could be the drama king to match sometimes. Although you didn't blame him to be quite honest. After leaving Austin mid way through the race, you had missed the Mexico race entirely. The plan had been for you to fly down to Brazil for the Sao Paulo race but editing and press had taken much longer than you had anticipated so now it was Saturday night and you were boarding a 9 hour flight from New York to the South American country.

Only, Max didn't know that. Max thought you were getting on a flight to Nice via Paris before driving to Monaco where he'd meet you sometime late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. Joke was on him though, you had finished everything up and had called Sophie for help to get you down to Brazil just in time for Sunday's race.

"He's such a baby." You murmur as the flight attendant leads you to your seat.

"He is beside himself missing you." Sophie says and you can hear the smile in her voice. "Just make sure I'm around when he sees you for the firs time, okay? He's going to lose it."

Laughing, you hoist your suitcase into the overhead bin before settling down in the luxurious lie flat seat that will be your bed for the next nine hours. If everything goes right, you'll land in Brazil just as the postponed qualifying is finishing up and will be able to watch the entire race in person.

"Thank you for helping coordinate this, Soph. I really appreciate it."

"Anything to get Max out of this slump he's in!" She replies brightly.

A few minutes later, you hang up the phone and type out a quick text letting Max know you're boarding the flight. Luckily, the flight from New York to Paris is roughly the same time as the flight to Sao Paulo so he doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you'll be unreachable, only telling you that the doorman to his building is expecting you and to make yourself at home in his apartment in Monaco when you get there before he does.

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

It is absolutely raining cats and dogs when the car Sophie hired pulls into the track after what feels like a lifetime of travel. Right after they served dinner on your flight, you took a sleeping pill and passed out for the duration of the flight, only waking up once the pilot turned on the overhead lights, signaling your arrival.

A quick text to Sophie alerts her to your arrival and she says she'll come and meet you outside the paddock with an extra umbrella. The driver that picked you up from the airport will take your luggage to the hotel where Max and the team are staying. When the car stops in front of the paddock gates, you spot Sophie immediately.

"Soph!!" You shout the moment you stumble out of the car, limbs a little stiff from the long car ride. Sao Paulo traffic is a beast in the best of weather but in a downpour like this? Nightmarish.

Sophie opens her arms to embrace you, "Oh I am so glad you're here. He is an absolute nightmare right now."

You grimace, knowing exactly why. He'd be starting P17 in a few hours. Between the team having got caught behind a red flag during Q2 and his 5 place grid penalty, it was a nightmare scenario for Max. All of this was compounded by Lando's win in the sprint yesterday and the fact that he was starting on pole today.

"Alright then, lets go. Maybe I can talk him down off a ledge before the race starts."

Sophie grins because she knows you'll be able to do just that. If there was anyone who could calm Mad Max down and bring him back to earth after the kind of morning the team had had today, it was you.

As you weave your way through the crowded paddock, the heavy rain simply not a deterrent to anyone at the track today, Max is in the garage considering the merits of scratching his eyeballs out so that he doesn't have to run this fucking race today. Everything is wrong. The car is terrible. Still. The FIA seemed to have a hard on for fucking up his weekend. Lando was on poll. And worst of all, he really fucking missed you. There was still several days between him and being reunited with you but if he could have just walked right out of the paddock and onto a plane to get to wherever you were in that moment, he would have. The only thing that seemed to settle him during these times lately was your steady presence in the garage. He didn't even need you to say anything, just knowing that you were around, within arms length if he needed you, did something to calm him like nothing else could.

He's talking to GP, actually, he's grumbling at GP when a familiar flash of hair and bright smile catches his eyes. Perfect, he thinks miserably, now I'm imagining her in the garage. I've gone full unhinged obsessed boyfriend, haven't I?

Imagine his shock when he actually hears your voice. "Max." You call out softly, hands clasped in front of you as you wait at the edge of the garage beside Sophie.

Max simply blinks a few times, as if he's trying to figure out if he's hallucinating or if you're really standing in front of him. His heart hammers in his chest when everything finally clicks into place. GP doesn't even bat an eye when Max walks away from him, mid sentence, before crossing the garage in a few short strides.

Max isn't usually one for intense public displays of affection, especailly in the garage and neither are you. There's a level of professionalism he likes to maintain while racing and you have always respected that but when Max sees you standing in front of him, practically drowning in one of his sweatshirts, hair wet and messy from walking through the paddock in the rain, he can't stop himself from scooping you up in his arms. Burying his head in your neck, he inhales deeply. So deeply that his lungs pinch with pain from the way he's trying to commit the way you smell to memory.

"You're here." He murmurs, voice thick and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me in Monaco?"

Max sets you down, not really wanting you out of his arms but wanting to move you to a quieter part of the garage. Behind you, Sophie, GP and the rest of the team discreetly shuffle away to give you two a bit of privacy.

"I knew how hard the last two races were for you and I just..." Pausing, you have to wait for a moment for your hands to stop shaking. You've been running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine for what feels like the last three weeks now and the emotion of the moment catches up to you. "I just wanted to be here for you."

Max lowers his lips to yours, covering them in a kiss that is all longing and white hot heat. He keeps the kiss just this side of tame enough for the garage, not wanting to draw the ire of Christian but he had needed to taste you then. His hand comes up to cup your face while the other slips around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. He's slightly damp from how wet it's been this morning but none of that matters now that you're back in his arms.

"I missed you so much." He murmurs, blue eyes practially sparkling down at you, he's so happy. It's been weeks since he's felt like this. Settled. Like he can take on the world. For the first time in what feels like forever, Max has a sense of determination that wraps itself around him. Like the championship isn't all but lost to Lando. Like the car isn't going to be terrible today, even though he might not even finish in the points. Like everything he's gone through the past few months on the track is all about to end because you're finally here and if anyone can bring the team luck, it's you.

"I love you." You whisper into his chest. "Now, let's go show the world why you're about to become a 4 time world champion, yeah?"

And that's exactly what he does.

yourpersonalinsta posted

938,398 likes liked by redbullracing, taylorswift, yourdad and others yourpersonalinsta we are SO back, baby!!! What started out as a nightmare of a day turned into a generational drive for the history books. P17 to P1 and I cannot believe I was there to witness it. Max, I am proud of you beyond words. You and the entire team deserve this win today. I love you to the moon and back, Maxie. (tagged: maxverstappen1) taylorswift what a race! Trav and I caught most of it before the game today. Congratulations!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta hope to see you in Vegas in a couple of weeks! >>>user928 oh my god, new bestie duo unlocked!? maxverstappen1 words fail to describe how much I love you baby. Thank you for always being in my corner and never giving up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. Love you to the ends of time, schatje >>>user928 i am SOBBING. Boyfriend Max is my favorite Max.

Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[colourmornings]

Quick note on Charles's speech for fic writers or anyone interested, really.

Charles uses tag questions, where he ends a sentence with a question, doesn't he? I see a lot of "innit" thrown at the end of sentences, which is right, sometimes.

There is unfortunately grammar. First off, if the main verb is negative, the tag will be positive, and vice versa.

When the main verbs in the sentence is a form of "be" or a modal verb (must, could, would, have, will, can, do etc), he's going to repeat that same form at the end of the sentence. An exception to this is a positive main verb of "I am" in which case the tag will be "aren't I?"

"[You're] Not going back to hell, are you?"

"I wouldn't wanna be dead with anyone else, would I?"

"No, we're not going anywhere, are we?"

"Well, I can't see where you're pointing to, can I?"

"We don't want a repeat of the infamous puppy debacle of '94, do we?"

He uses "innit" a lot less than people think, I think. It took me a while to find examples of him saying this, I ended up having to search a transcript. It follows the same rules as above, except the subject is always a thing, or the pronoun "it," and the main sentence is positive, so that the tag can be the negative "innit" (isn't it). *Edit* "innit" is not used as a question! It's mainly used to reinforce a talking point! (Thank you @elizabear). While the other tags are like rhetorical questions, this one is flat tonally and can end with a period, too.

"Boxing's a gentleman's sport, innit?"

"Magical void, innit?"

"That's the injustice we fight, innit?"

When the verb is not one of those above" he uses a form of "do."

"Well, that sounds a lot like you, doesn't it?"

"Wanna keep things professional, don't I?"

Charles also ends a lot of sentences with just the word "yeah."

"Psychic thing makes case work go a lot faster, yeah?"

I am usamerican, but I have a masters in Linguistics. People who actually use tag questions, though, please add on or correct me!

[differenteagletragedy]

Simon Riley x Single Mom Reader, Part Six <3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

"We'll be fine, love."

"Are you sure? I can reschedule. Should I reschedule?"

"Not necessary."

"Simon ..."

"Sweetheart."

You sigh and nod, picking up the diaper bag by the door. Emma is on your hip -- six months old now, and her neck is finally working right. You needed to take her in for a check-up at the doctor's, but Charlie was having a particularly energetic morning, so Simon stepped in and offered to watch him for you.

It's his first time babysitting one of the kids on his own, and part of him is confident. He can lead men into war, he can watch a rambunctious four-year-old.

Another part of him though, a quieter, more anxious part that he tries to push down, is just a little worried. Things are going so well, and he wants to keep proving to you that what you have is good. That it's worth keeping.

"All right, Charlie," he says, firmly but not coldly, once you and Emma leave the house. "We've got to hold down the fort, you and me. Got it?"

"Aye aye, captain," Charlie says, giving a salute.

Simon chuckles -- the boy knows he's in the army at this point, but obviously not the ins and outs of it all.

"Not a captain yet, and you're not one of my men anyway. Simon'll do just fine."

It's a fun afternoon, more fun than he'd imagined it would be. He and Charlie make a blanket fort in the living room (his first time, but it turns out all right), then they make s'mores in the microwave (also his first time, and it's a little bit of disaster).

It's fun, but it's difficult in a strange, painful sort of way. Simon never got to be a kid, and he's never been around children. Emma is sweet, absolutely adorable, but she doesn't talk yet. Charlie, though, has a way of speaking that's so innocent and honest in a way he's never experienced. He's sweet too, and he's very certain that he'd die for either of them, but there's a learning curve with him, one he's so desperate to master.

At the heart of it all, Simon just wants to be good for you. For all of you. And he'll keep trying until he is.

When you come home, Emma fussy after her shots, Charlie is on a sugar high, zipping in and out of the blanket fort. You laugh, happy to see your son happy, and Simon takes Emma so you can talk to him.

"Did you have a good time?" you ask, a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him in place for a moment."'

"Yeah, we always have fun," Charlie answers, grinning.

You swipe a bit of melted marshmallow off the corner of his mouth, smiling back down at the boy.

"You're kind of a mess though, huh? Want to go ahead and take your bath?"

He pouts, looking up at you with big eyes, and tells you that he wants to play a little longer. When he glances at Simon, the message seems clear -- he wants to keep playing with him.

"Not going anywhere, Charlie," Simon says quietly. "Why don't you listen to your mum though and get cleaned up now?"

The child smiles at his reassurance, and nods. Simon nods back, Emma still whining in his arms, and before he can process it, Charlie is hugging his leg.

"Love you, Daddy," he says, and then he's off.

Simon freezes for a moment, then looks at you. You offer him a tight smile, but something's off, and he can't quite place it.

"Never asked him to call me that."

"No, I know," you say quickly, shaking your head. "Of course not. It's just ... I don't know, he might be kind of confused? You've been around so much more than his actual father, he's probably ..."

You trail off, biting your lip, and he steps closer to you, the baby resting against his chest.

"What's got you so upset?" he asks softly. He wants to make it better, but he needs to know how.

"I just don't want you to think that I'm pushing it on him, I guess?" you answer, glancing up at him before looking back down. "I don't want to force that role on you at all. I know it's a lot."

He considers his words carefully, knowing how important they are, and finally he admits, "It is a lot."

Your head jerks up to look at him, and there's almost a fearful look in your eyes. With his free hand, he strokes your cheek lightly, keeping your eyes on him.

"But I wouldn't trade it for anything. You hear me? Being here with you, with them, it's ... more than I could have ever asked for. Much more than I deserve."

You let out a small, nervous breath. You're so expressive, and he's always so thankful for it, because in your eyes, he can see how much this matters to you. How you want to do all of this right, even if you're not exactly sure how to go about it.

Finally, you speak again, telling him, "I don't want you to feel like you need to be that though, you know? Be their dad. It's been, what, almost five months? Simon, that's ..."

"I'll be whatever you need, love. Always. I can promise you that."

And he means it, easily. He doesn't need the kids to call him dad, or a big conversation about his exact role in the family. What he needs, from now on, is to be able to take care of you, all three of you. Whatever that looks like, however it plays out, he's all in now.

He needs you to be all in too.

"Don't worry so much about me, all right?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not running away. I'm not leaving."

You laugh, a little broken, and say, "That's kind of a first for me."

His hand, still on your cheek, moves to the back of your neck, gently pulling you against him. He keeps Emma, who's settling now, tucked against one side of his chest and holds you against the other.

"I mean it. As long as you'll have me, I'm yours."

You look up at him, your arms going around his waist, smiling a little more genuinely now that he's got you like this.

"And what if I want to have you for a very long time?"

"Then that's exactly what you'll get."

PART SEVEN - PART EIGHT

[nanenna]

Jeez Louise This is a Mess

Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post

Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.

---

John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.

John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”

Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”

“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.

“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”

Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.

The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.

“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.

“You would think so.”

The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…

“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”

“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.

“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”

“Will that work?”

“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”

Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.

Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”

“You don't know who I am?”

“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

“Then what do they call you?”

“How about you tell me your name first?”

“I’m Deadman.”

The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.

“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

The Fentons all shook their heads.

The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”

Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.

It did… well not much.

Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.

Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”

John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?

“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”

And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.

Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.

Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.

The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.

John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”

The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”

For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.

Everyone was staring at the display.

“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.

“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.

“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”

“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”

“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”

“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.

“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”

And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”

“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.

“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.

“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.

“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.

“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”

“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.

“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”

Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Only one guy on here has two eyes, and even then, they're fake eyes. It's big-tits-McGee, Mr. logic man extraordinaire, Geneva Suggestion Believer himself: Shockwave! Yep, all 12 of him, a reasonable amount of alternates to have, unlike some people... Shockwave Height Chart, everyone, fuckin wee.

Edit: I didn't like the old scaling I had so I changed it. The old chart is at the end of this post.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Here are links to my Bumblebee Chart, my Optimus Chart, my Megatron Chart, and my Soundwave Chart. !!NEW!! -> Ratchet & Ironhide. Please go gawk at how many Optimus designs there are, sweet fuck, there are so many. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag.

Master Post

Explanations and Sources below the cut.

Unicron Trilogy Energon - ~14 feet 3 inches (No actual source, and Energon doesn't have any listed heights anywhere. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. This is the design used in Energon (S2) though he only shows up in Energon. I was able to compare him to Optimus, and using Cybertron's listed heights, I got this number. I am in physical pain, it does not get better from here. Hilarious side note, his Japanese name is Laserwave, which contains the missing "wave" of Shockwave in this iteration's name.)

Earth Spark - ~15 feet (No actual source for ES, but using a barn door to get Bumblebee's height, then Optimus's, then Megatron's height, I was able to make a guess at Shockwave's. Shockwave comes up to about Megatron's chin; I lost the screenshot I used. It's so convoluted, I know, but it's all I have, also, tiny universe, everyone is so small)

TFA Longarm/V1 - 15 feet 2 inches (Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Gen 1 - ~18 feet (TFWiki, uuuuh I've got nothing to add)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 feet (I have no source for this, other than assuming that because this design is identical to Gen 1, they are the same height. That's it, really)

Knight/Capel-Verse - ~18 feet (No source, and he never stands next to anyone I can measure him against, but because the TFOne director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, I am assuming the height I figured out for TFOne applies to this universe as well. Until proven otherwise. Capel directed the ROTB movie if you're wondering why his name is there)

One - ~18 feet (No source, I got this number by comparing him to Optimus. Now, I am aware of the TFO heights listed on the wiki, but I reject those numbers on principal. A: Those numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, so I have elected to use the few given heights we have from KCV and worked from there. My Optimus post has slightly more context if you want it)

Cyberverse - 20 feet (This comes from a screenshot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screenshot is iffy.)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC/TFP - 26 feet 2 inches (This number comes from Fandom and I completely believe it, even if they don't list their source, because the entirety of this universe is freakishly tall. Go look at my other charts, all the ALC designs are monstrous compared to the others)

TFA V2 - 29 feet 11 inches (Once again, phoenix-inanis did a fuck ton of work, go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Bayverse - ~30 feet (Ok, so I don't have a source for this one. There used to be one, BV Shockwave used to be listed as 40 feet tall bc of an article done to promote the movie, but that is no longer listed for reasons not known to me, and making some comparisons to Optimus, I have found them to be kinda close in height. It's very hard to actually validate any of this. Shockwave never stands normally next to anything I can use as a ruler at any point in the movie. He's always at a dramatic angle or partially covered by something in the shot. It's so violently frustrating. I am confident he is around this height though, I just can't figure out how much taller than Optimus he is)

And that's it. I didn't have to leave any designs out, all of them are included here (hopefully). It was so nice to work with a character where I wasn't drowning in 20+ designs across every goddamn universe.

Edit: Here are the different layers separated.

vvv Old scale vvv

[anystalker707]

a sweet reminder

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Spending a nice time with Luke after he's done working at the farm, and of course he's awfully sweet. Tags: clingy luke / he really wants to take care of you / lots of kisses

MASTER LIST

          Despite the usual high temperatures, the day felt exceptionally hot—the suns seemed to be taking out personal anger on Luke, making each step towards his home feel like torture, and he already knew he’d need some cream later tonight to deal with burning in the areas where the sunlight chastened his tanned skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, patting his clothes to get rid of the sand accumulated between the folds.

The droids wouldn’t do everything, so Luke still needed to carry those heavy buckets of water back home to refill the sprinklers. He tried to balance between no water spilled and the intense pain in his fingers to let buckets down on the ground as slowly as he could, and the pain lingered uncomfortably around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed as he opened and closed his hand a few times until the stiffness went away, or at least most of it. He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down, letting the breeze refresh the back of his neck before he moved to finish his task. He would be free for the last of the day, hopefully.

Luke’s thoughts were fuzzy already after so many hours under the suns, but he had done that enough times to trust himself on autopilot. He could name a handful of things—more, actually—he would rather be doing right now.

A long breath escaped his lips once he was done, and he tried his best to ignore the tingling in the back of his mind that told him it was only a matter of time before his uncle told him to do something else. He took a deep breath as he walked over to the kitchen, his body instinctively freezing when he heard his name being called, but hey, it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

“Luke,” the voice called again, and he stepped out to see you coming down the edge. A smile tugged on your lips when you finally saw him, sighing. “Wow, you look like you’ve been… smuggled by Jawas.”

“Oh,” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Just slaving away as usual,” he breathed, glancing behind him, but no one from his family was around. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his forearm, and he shook his head again so that his strands would fall back into place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little too hot and cranky.” Luke scrunched his nose a little. Today’s weather seemed harsher than usual, and opposite to his wishes to stay home upgrading his ship, he had to work at the farm for longer than normal today.

You raised your eyebrows, nodding faintly. “I was gonna ask you to come grab a drink with me, but we don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Luke’s eyes followed your hand reaching out to brush his hair back into place, and he made sure to stand still while you did so. “Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he said. “Maybe we can have a couple of glasses of blue milk while we hang out in the garage. I was gonna tinker around with my stuff anyway.” He grabbed your hand, walking by the kitchen with you to grab the promised drink before you two could go sit on the couch in the garage. He always sat close, pressed to your side. “Ugh, what a day, I swear. Anything interesting happened while I was slaving away?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoffed with an endearing smile. You enjoyed the refreshing sensation of the blue milk going down your throat, and the garage felt a lot nicer than being cooked under the suns outside. On the other hand, maybe it’d be colder than usual tonight. “And no, nothing interesting. I did hit my head on the edge of a ship while fixing it, though. I’m not sure if that’s interesting,” you chuckled, bringing a hand up to the sore spot on top of your head out of instinct.

Blue eyes observed you over the rim of the glass before Luke lowered it, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over you with clear concern, a crease forming between his eyebrows. A small sound came from him as he put his glass away. “Oh no, are you alright? Let me take a look.” He adjusted his position and placed your glass on the table as well, reaching out to touch your head. His fingertips gently traced the area where you’d hit with a delicate and soft touch. “Does this hurt?” He applied a little pressure.

“Ow,” you hissed at the unexpected pain, though it wasn’t too bad. You’d forget it hurt if nothing touched the area you’d hit. “Only a little sore.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps or swelling, but I think we should keep an eye on it, anyway,” Luke exhaled. “But that’s a relief. We don’t want you losing any more brain cells.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head carefully, his hand descending to cup your cheek for a brief moment. Concern was evident in his eyes as they met yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. “I have a bacta spray. It should help. Do you want me to get it?”

You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it reassuringly, letting it fall to your lap. “I’m fine, I swear. Maybe we should be more worried about your brain cells cooking in this heat, yeah?” You chuckled, running your thumb over Luke’s knuckles when his eyes widened, and you were sure his blushing would be apparent if it weren’t for his sun-kissed skin.

“H-Hey, my brain is just fine, thank you very much!” Luke’s attempt to sound indignant failed miserably with his embarrassment, and he bit his lip, glancing away. “It’s not like I’m hallucinating or anything.” His eyes softened when they met yours again, and he lifted his free hand, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently—he raised his eyebrows a little when you leaned into his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I should take another look, just to be safe.”

Part of you regretted telling Luke about the bump when concern laced his gaze once more—you thought he’d be more used to it, since you and him were always with a bruise or another from working on those ships or machines the whole time.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, catching his hand between yours before he could reach for your head again. “Trust me, Luke.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Luke exhaled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He looked down at your joined hands before he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?” His wide, earnest eyes looked into yours, pleading, before he pressed his forehead to yours, both out of habit and out of worry. Clingy, as always. “I could kiss it better.” His breath fanned over your face. “If you want me to, I mean.” As if he hadn’t already.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you mumbled, your eyelids instinctively hiding half of your irises when the distance between you diminished. “Why are you always doing this? Pressing your forehead to mine. Trying to read my thoughts?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows lightly. “It feels… nice. Comforting, I guess.” He bit his lip, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, near the base of your neck. “Don’t act like I’m being clingy.”

“Yeah, feels nice, I enjoy it too… But you’re very clingy all the time, in fact,” you whispered with a small smile, placing a hand on his waist instead, adjusting your position so that you could be closer to each other.

A soft scoff escaped his lips. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop kissing me the last time,” he pointed out with a shy smile, and he quickly pulled one of your legs to hook over his. “Not that I’m complaining,” he mumbled in a quieter, embarrassed voice, but he didn’t move away. The closeness was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. “I really like it when you do that.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning cluelessness, despite how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Me? I never even kissed you. Let alone kiss you nonstop.” You clicked your tongue.

Luke pulled away suddenly, making your head fall forward a little, and looked at you with a wide grin and disbelief. “What? But you did! Here in the garage, when we were working on the speeder.” He paused. “Trying to.”

“Did I?” You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t remember it, baby.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and his cheeks burned, not just because of being under the sunlight for hours before. With a dramatically heavy sigh, he leaned in again. “Maybe you should kiss me again, love.” He glanced at your lips. “Just to remind you.”

“Oh, so that’s your suggestion?” You asked, and Luke nodded, biting his lip. “‘M not sure about it,” you mumbled against his cheek, nuzzling it softly.

“Well, we should try, maybe it’ll remind you,” Luke chuckled softly, turning his head. His lips brushed against yours in a barely-there touch. It was more of a tease, but still managed to send a tingling down his spine. He cupped the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw, leaning in, and finally kissed you properly. His lips finally met yours, his breath hitching. Luke loved the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips, and it made his head spin when you kissed him back just as lovingly. “Like this?”

“I don’t think I’ve remembered enough,” you said as soon as his lips broke away from yours.

Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to keep trying, then.” He pecked your lips. “Until you remember.” Despite the calloused skin, his hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you once more, needy lips pressing to yours in a longer, deeper kiss. His kisses were messy in the best way possible, oscillating between the need and shyness, refraining into more contained movements right after deepening it and getting lost on your lips, trying to get a grip of himself again. “Do you like this?” Luke’s lips grazed yours as he spoke.

“Mhm. So good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mirroring his smile. He couldn’t be close enough.

Something shifted in Luke’s gaze as he tilted his head; it was like you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. He kissed you again, letting it last longer, as his thumbs ran along your cheekbones. “You’re so good at this,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tightly while nuzzling your nose. “I love being close to you like this.”

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

[fhrlclln]

ii. dorky!qimir x acolyte!fem!reader

a continuation to this small imagine

oopsie, maybe your teasing has gone too far on him, and he snaps finally. 🙂‍↕️😋😝

also thank u so much to all you 2.8k beautiful ppl for following me <3

nsfw/smut under the cut

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fuck.

he grits his teeth, seeing mae leaves him hanging- literally hanging. he should have foreseen this sooner, she was weak as his pupil. no loyalty whatsoever, his teachings all thrown to waste. and now he has to clean this whole mess up before she could head to osha and the others. the betrayal angers him, how dare she do this to him. when he had graciously accepted and taught her his ways.

he sighs, looking around, trying to find his satchel. knowing he left it somewhere near the body of water in the forest. he closes his eyes, hand reaching out to get his saber through the force. he’s about to pull through but a scrunch in the bushes stops him. his eyes widened, thinking a fucking animal has added to his current misery.

“oh, look what we have here.” nope, it was not an ordinary animal- it’s a predator. it seems his day has gotten worse as you appear by the flora, with an amused grin on your face. you’re dressed in your signature black robes, he guessed you might have followed through, remembering he had given you an order the other night before they left olega. that you were to follow mae’s every step from now on, and he’s actually proud you did.

“i need a little assistance here, please?” he speaks up, the ache on his arms and legs getting worse from hanging upside down.

“i’m guessing this is mae’s doing.” you hum, circling around him slowly. he closes his eyes, holding himself back from snapping. “well, it was bound to happen when her sister appeared. the master’s going to kill her.”

oh, he will.

“help me!” he whines, ashamed he fucking whined. of course, you don’t know yet that he’s your master, of course you’ll be torturing him until now.

“you’re so cute when you whine, qimyyyy.” you grinned devilishly, that nickname making his head hurt. “alright, what do i get in return, though?”

oh, his brain is literally going to explode any second now. “what do you want?” he groans, flaying his arms around as you stop in-front of him. resting your weight on one foot, and your hand resting on the curve of your hip. he momentarily glances at that, liking the way the leather leggings hug your curves- he stops himself from raking his eyes further, focusing on your thinking face, he’s a little bit dizzy now seeing you upside down.

“hmmm…” you think, finger tapping your chin. “how about another kiss?” you say with a sultry tone. he stutters for a moment, acting like he’s not wishing for it again. but he has no other choice but to be pathetic and agree, otherwise, what other things do you want in-return than a kiss? his blood rushes to his cheeks as he sighs, rubbing his face.

“alright!” the other rush of blood goes to his crotch when he stares at your lips, remembering that cheeky kiss you gave him that had him milking himself that night. “just get me down!”

“okay!” you laugh. “stay still.”

he expects you to use your lightsaber but what you do first is tiptoe up to examine the rope holding his feet, making you press your chest on his face. his eyes widened and his protests are muffled by your breasts. he can feel himself getting hard, loving each second of torture to be suffocated by your clothed breasts.

“this is not necessary!” he shouts, turning his head to the side as you still press your chest against his face. he moves his face around, trying to avoid your soft chest, but it made it seem like he’s… you know…

“if you want me to slice your feet off, stay still and quiet.” you tut, chuckling as you finally detach yourself from him, done assessing where you would cut. even though you could’ve cut anywhere higher from his feet. fuck, you still had to tease him when he’s almost gonna puke from being suspended in the air for too long.

you wink at him and he glares at you. you take your saber out of your belt, turning it on as the red light blinds him for a moment. you swiftly threw it to where the rope is, and he falls to the ground with a loud thud. your saber comes back to your hand in an instant. you giggled, crouching down beside him as you switch off your saber. he groans, face planted against the dirt. he slowly lifts himself up, that fall hurting his chest and forehead.

“you need a bath, qimir.” you suddenly said, brushing the leaves and twigs out on his hair. he rolled his eyes, and you still had to smile at him. that fucking smile he wishes he’ll turn into tears if he fucks you rough enough to get you to drop your torturous acts of teasing him.

“no shit.” he mumbles, letting his act drop for a moment. he looks up to you and you just smiled, not asking for the kiss he agreed to give you. “g-get it on with it.” he winces as he sits on the ground, ready for your lips to land on his. he’s looking like he doesn’t want to, but he so does want to.

“no.” you shrug, and he swears he might strangle you. “i’m reserving it for later when i get to mae. he’ll be pleased if i get to her first. and my reward will be you.” you stand up, looking at him like he’s your prey.

“just find mae.” he begs, more relieved that you’re now prioritizing to capture the ex-pupil for him. maybe he’ll reward you if you behaved like this more often.

“you stay right there, qimir!” you wave him a goodbye. he lets out a groan, still dizzy but a weight has been drop from his shoulders. he rolls his arms, now feeling through the force as his satchel comes flying to his hand. you’re so eager to please him, not knowing you’re literally torturing him. he grins to himself, thinking of a way to get back to you.

he’ll get to mae first.

・゜゜・．

in unfortunate circumstances, he had let his former pupil go. he was close to killing her, but alas, that jedi master had to intervene, along with her twin sister. they all had escaped from his clutches, now he has to formulate another plan if they ever come for him again. he tosses his hair back, the dirt and his sweat sticking onto his skin. he looks around for a moment in the quiet forest filled with the jedis he killed, the sun is almost up, he has to flee the planet now.

and you?

you are laid in-front of him, still unconscious after osha fired her stun blaster onto you when you were distracted in fighting her twin. he looks down to your peaceful figure, but you did well in defending him. you had no time to say anything when his helmet broke, only choosing to focus on eliminating the opponents. he thinks for a moment if he should wake you up, what would you react knowing the two of you are alone now?

your face suddenly stirred, consciousness finally coming back to you. you groaned awake, eyes fluttering open, your head and back hurts. you are momentarily confused where you are, but as you regained your vision, you feel his piercing gaze towards you as you now look up.

“shit.” you merely say, quickly sitting up. qimir’s lips tug to a smirk as he crouches down to your level. you try to think of something to say, but you avoid his eyes, feeling a little ashamed now.

“surprised?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, curious.

“uhm…” you don’t know what to say. his chest heaves, all his patience is snapping how you’re not saying anything. he grips your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him. your eyes widened, a look of fear crosses your face. “m-master!”

“you know, i don’t appreciate getting teased like that.” he stares down at your lips and your glossy eyes. “you’re a brat, you know?”

you fluttered your lashes. “i try. you gonna kiss me?” you had the audacity to be a tease now. his eyes darkened, all logic in his brain snaps. he pulls you forward, you’re about to protest but his lips captures yours harshly. you make a sound, but it’s muffled by his lips. he expects you to kiss back, but you stay frozen but evident you want to kiss him the way your arms grip his broad shoulders. he doesn’t fucking care if this all wrong, that he’s your master and you are his pupil, you started all of this.

“open your mouth.” he says between his kisses. you wanted your reward a kiss right? you let out a whine as you hesitantly obeyed him. “come on, open your fucking mouth.”

you obey him, you’re now pulling him towards you as his tongue delves in to clash with yours. you let out a moan, teeth are clashing, tongues are circling around each other, how messy and hot your kisses are. as if you both were trying to quench the thirst for each other. he circles his arms to wrap around your waist, he sits back, pulling you to sit on his lap. you followed, sitting directly on his crotch as that made him groan.

your hands went up to his hair, tangling your fingers in his messy black locks as his hands groped your ass. your thoughts are everywhere, still ashamed you had teased the fuck out of your master. you were not blame really, with how cute he acted, he’s the cause of all of your sweet torture on him. you start to grind against him, your core rubbing against his hard-on. you smirk, how affected he is with you.

you break the kiss, lips wet and swelling, a string of saliva connects to his own glossy lips as he stared at you. you’re desperate now, gliding your hands down from his hair to his chest, rubbing his muscles.

“how many times did you said you wanna ride me, huh?” he asks now, gripping your ass. you let out a whine, giggling as you shrug.

“many times.” you answered, not even ashamed now. a loud smack suddenly makes you yelp, he slapped your ass hard as he chuckled, massaging your stinging asscheek.

“then that’s how many times you’re gonna do it now, sweetheart.” he darkly says, voice husky. you smiled, nodding as things escalated quickly. your top is thrown somewhere, his upper part of his black robe is removed, and he’s fiddling with your leather bottoms to get it off you while he sucks your nipple. you cradle the nape of his neck, arching your back for him to easily play with your breasts. you lift your hips up for him to remove it easily, you quickly detach yourself from him for a moment removing your leggings as he pushed his bottoms downwards to spring his cock out.

he lets out a shameful groan, gripping himself as his tip was flushed red, precum oozing out. you bit your lip, mesmerized by the sight of his cock. you crawled back to him, wanting to suck him off.

“another time.” he stops you before you could suck his tip. you frown but obeyed him. he guides you to hover above him, kissing your neck, littering it with love bites. he has been thinking about this a lot, jerking himself in those lonely nights in the shop from your crude words that you wanted to do many things with him. he glances to your cunt, his cock twitching at the sight of how wet you are.

“you’re so big.” you whined, gripping him as you guide it to your entrance. he lets out a groan, his tip rubbing against your soft entrance. everything feels warm, the coldness of the morning is shielded by both of your body heats. he stares down, seeing as you finally let him in, slowly taking him inside of you.

“t-that feels so good.” he can’t help but say, rolling his eyes back at the wave of pleasure when your walls wrap around him snugly. you let out a cry, feeling full as you slowly pushed your hips down to really let him in. he’s so big that you wonder if you’ll be split in half when you start bouncing him.

“qimir…master.” you moan his name out. he swears he almost busted himself when you called him master. finally taking him all in as you sit on his abdomen. fuck, he feels like he’s about to cum how deep he’s in your cunt. you shuddered, feeling every inch of his cock fill inside you. there’s a relaxing silence as only both of your labored breaths are heard. his chest rises, hands settling on your hips, ready to guide you to start moving.

“that’s it, good girl. grind for me.” he praises as you started to grind back and forth. the friction of pleasure hitting you both hard. you place your hands on his muscled chest, rubbing back and forth to his abs. you close your eyes, back arching as he sucks your nipples again. you finally start to bounce on him, his hands guiding you. “come on, fuck me.”

“i am!” you groan out, bouncing more harshly now. he moans your name out, hands caressing down to your ass. he slaps the soft flesh again, making you whine. your breasts are jiggling in-front of his from your erratic movements. he watches in awe, how beautiful you are bouncing on his cock. you suddenly kiss him, hot and messy, he kisses back the same.

he loves this, he loves the feel of warm cunt wrapped around him, and your sweaty skin sticking to his. both of you are so lost in the pleasure of one another, not caring if anyone would see the two of you in the forest. he feels your walls clench tight around him. he feels himself near his high, the familiar knot in his stomach forming.

“i’m close.” you whisper dumbly against his lips. he nods, pressing his forehead against yours as your eyes fluttered open to stare at his orbs. the look of your face as him moaning, how dumb you look when you’re finally bouncing on his cock just like you had teased at him days ago. he sees your brows furrow, bouncing more wildly now, signaling you’re about to come. he helps you near your high as his other hand goes down to rub your swollen clit.

“m-maker-!” you let out a gurgled sound as he roughly kisses you again. your whole body stuttered, clenching his cock tight as he roughly thrusts his hips up as your orgasm hits you hard. the sound of harsh skin slapping fills your ears as you let him fuck him you, and he was nearing his end. he lets out a sound of pleasure, gripping your hips down as the tip of his cock hits your cervix as he fills you up with his cum.

“f-fuck.” he stutters, holding you down as you hug his neck, feeling dizzy at the intensity of your orgasm. you nuzzle your face in his neck, kissing his soft skin, inhaling his earthy scent as you let out a sigh. he drops his tight grip on your ass, caressing your marked skin. both of your hearts are beating loudly, chests are heaving.

“good girl.” he kisses the side of your face, hands caressing your back now. you hum in response, too fucked-out to say something as you just had the best orgasm you had in your life. his cock is still snug inside you, both of your spends mixing as it oozes out of you and coats his prick. you slowly sit up now, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you peck his lips. he blinks softly, a smile tugging his lips. he taps your thigh suddenly, motioning you to ready yourself. you two were not done yet. he’s gonna fuck the shit out of you from all the torture you had done to him until you beg him to stop. you know this as you rolled your eyes at him as he suddenly starts to thrusts his hips up, the overstimulation making you yelp.

“come on. we’re not done yet, brat.”

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this (i think) is the hottest and freakiest shit i have ever written. 🥵

[shmooooo]

hi isa <3 really curious on what type of dom you think the exo members are 😻👀

The way you sent this while I was going through my exo album looking for a new profile pic-

exo as doms

pairing: exo x reader (no chen, read my guidelines for info)

genre: smut

warnings: reader has a hand kink (this is very self-indulgent), mentions of degradation, spanking, edging, overstimulation, (aftercare isn’t explicitly mentioned for most of them but just know that all of them would be adamant about taking good care of you after, especially if they were rough)

word count: 851

notes: special thanks to @rose-sereniteeth for helping me! ♡ funny how we struggled with minseok and then in typical fashion his part became one of the longest 💀 i'm not super happy with this but despite having stanned exo for the past seven years, i never quite embraced them like this until somewhat recently so there's still time to figure this out - also reblogs are always appreciated!

~~~~~~

Minseok (Xiumin)

Hard dom. He has rules in place and expects you to follow them. And while he’s sweet outside of the bedroom, during scenes he loves degrading you. He’s also a huge fan of teasing and sometimes he’ll just tease you with light touches (sometimes even with a feather) for hours until you get desperate enough. But if you dare to show your impatience by being a brat, he’ll scold you and either prolong your suffering or give you exactly what you wanted but tenfold until it’s almost too much. Cleanliness and tidiness are also very important to him so I feel like he would make you fold your clothes after undressing and be very adamant about cleaning you up afterwards.

Junmyeon (Suho)

Dom. Honestly ultimate daddy dom. Everything he does is to make you feel good. Whether that is making sure you eat and sleep enough or giving you what you need in the bedroom. He will absolutely spoil you in all aspects of life but in return he expects you to follow the rules you agreed on. And while he is sweet, he’s also very strict when it comes to the rules so you better not break them or he will put you over his knees and make you count.

Yixing (Lay)

Hard dom. Have you seen what he’s like when he’s working? All focused and hot? That’s how I imagine him as a dom. He’s more of a "master" type, especially during punishments. During scenes he acts cold and sometimes even angry with you. He doesn’t smile and when he does, that is absolutely not a good sign since it usually means he will edge or overstimulate you to heaven and back. But during aftercare he does a 180 and becomes very nurturing and caring. 

Baekhyun

Dom. He’s an experimentalist and probably the kinkiest out of the bunch. I absolutely see him owning a toy box with all kinds of stuff in there (mostly for you). He definitely enjoys giving directions and is generally very vocal about what he wants you to do (are we surprised). He will also tease you relentlessly, both verbally and physically - he’ll call you all kinds of degrading names (usually mixed with praise, like “my pretty little whore”) and first edge you until you beg him to let you cum and then overstimulate you until you beg him to stop. Will definitely play innocent after as if he just didn’t take your body apart at the seems. 

Chanyeol

Soft dom. I feel like unless you either fuck up or specifically ask him to be rough, he’ll generally be sweeter and less strict. That doesn’t mean he won’t tease the hell out of you though. He knows you love his hands and he’ll absolutely use that against you. Whether it’s with light touches anywhere but where you actually need him or by giving you orgasm after orgasm with only his fingers because “if you like my hands so much, surely you don’t need my cock” (bastard). But just because he isn’t usually rough with you (both verbally and physically), doesn’t mean you should underestimate him. Question his authority and he will put you in your place. 

Kyungsoo (D.O)

Dom. He’s a soft lover and that usually carries over into the bedroom. He loves spoiling you because he’s a simp at heart but he never lets you forget who’s in control when you’re doing a scene. He’s strict about you following the rules you two have established, and if you don’t, he will definitely make you pay for it. I also don't really see him as a toy guy? Like he has a vibrator and maybe one, two other things but he usually relies on his own body and the vibrator if he wants to make you squirm, something he generally enjoys but especially when he’s punishing you.

Jongin (Kai)

Soft dom. He will absolutely do anything to make you happy and praise non-stop (read: simp - affectionately). Buys you pretty lingerie but he’s too impatient to take it off before fucking you so he usually fucks you with it on. What he does have the patience for though is worshipping every part of your body. He almost has too much patience for that though, so you often end up whining for him to hurry up, which more often than not leads to him shushing you and pushing his fingers into your mouth to shut you up. 

Sehun

Dom. He’s a sweet guy and can absolutely be down for a more light-hearted dynamic with jokes and teasing but once he's in dom mode, he changes. He’s firm and expects you to obey but he also rewards you for listening with praise. I feel like he’s surprisingly vocal during sex. He tells you what he's going to do, what he expects of you, and he wants you to respond too, no matter how fucked out you are. It just brings him great enjoyment to see you struggle to form the words he wants to hear because lbr, he’s a brat even when he doms. 

[morlock-holmes]

Still thinking about that Astral Codex Ten AI Art Turing test...

I mean... Obviously the one on the right is the human one. Is this some kind of prank? Am I on candid camera?

My suspicion is that what this test demonstrates most conclusively is that we are so thoroughly bombarded with images that we have developed the defensive measure of paying as little attention to them as possible.

We get the gist and then move on as quickly as possible.

Here's someone who did much better than I did on this test explaining their results.

This demonstrates fairly conclusively that nearly all the AI images Alexander chose do in fact, have "tells" which are extremely plain when you attend closely to the details.

In fact, I managed to get 2 out of every 3 correct even with an incredibly lazy and fast-paced assessment carried out on my phone without much recourse to fine detail.

There are two trends I noticed in the comments of the results post.

First, a significant number of ACX posters harbor a suspicion and resentment towards art and good taste, which leads them to suspect that all artistic judgement is essentially arbitrary and based on clout. They don't notice the difference, so there must not be a difference.

Second, a number of people who are clearly AI skeptics gave ground and accepted the idea that the AI images were lacking in "tells" and were especially good, and instead attempted to attack the test on the grounds that this kind of curation was itself unfair.

Both responses indicate, to me, both a fascination with images and a kind of, for lack of a better word, illiteracy about them.

And perhaps most interestingly this illiteracy doesn't seem to obviously vary between pro and anti-AI readers.

To go back to the side by side landscapes up there, the landscape on the left probably has the fewest obvious "tells" of AI art, maybe of all the AI images.

It's also just, you know, a much worse piece of art than the one on the right?

To go back to what I said in an earlier post, the painting on the right draws the eye down the hill. The two figures on the path are expertly set off so that even though they are barely suggested with just a couple of brush strokes, they immediately stand out and draw the eye, causing you to follow the same path they are taking down into the village.

Contrast the image on the left. Which part of the painting is your eye drawn to first? It could really by almost anywhere. No part of the picture is more important than any other, there's very little contrast between, say, the village on the right and the wildflowers on the left. What detail there is is largely because, well, otherwise there wouldn't be a painting.

If you asked 100 art critics which of those paintings was by a renowned master and which one you found hanging in a dentist's office I think all 100 would give you the same answer.

Or take this one:

If you really, really zoom in on the hand on our right, the anatomy is probably wonky, but I didn't notice that, I just thought,

"Okay, but, like, what is this angel, like... Doing?"

This figure, painted in this style, is rife with symbolism. Most likely an angel, or at the very least Icarus, it ought to be extremely clear what sort of emotional/cultural/allegorical/etc. meaning is being communicated, but it is just sort of... looking off yearningly towards nothing.

Culturally, it's just not something that a human would paint as a finished piece.

Actually in general AI seems to tend to either not have a clear focal point, or to have one extremely obvious subject placed right smack dab in the center of the frame.

One of the subtle visual gags in Monty Python and The Holy Grail is that the peasants are often doing things that look, on very cursory examination, as though they are some kind of agricultural activity, but actually they are just hitting random patches of ground with a stick or sitting on the ground and moving mud into a big pile.

And same with this Angel; it looks, at casual glance, to be doing "Angel type stuff" and if you just keep moving you leave with the impression that everything was fine.

But if you stop yourself, go back, and ask, "Wait, specifically what is it doing?" you really can't come up with anything more specific than, "Angel type stuff".

This sort of vagueness is also a tell of AI art.

If what I'm saying sounds a bit frustrated or mean-spirited I think it's because looking at this test has solidified something that I haven't really been able to articulate before, which sort of sums up to the vast majority of talk about AI, regardless of what the conclusion is, evidences a strong emotional investment in images paradoxically combined with a sort of estrangement from them and often even a strong resentment towards them.

Both pro and anti-AI imagery camps contain a tremendous number of people who feel imagery as a kind of imposition, with AI as either an emancipatory force aimed at a tyrannical art world bent on crushing us with arbitrary, incomprehensible images or, on the other hand, as a tyrannical force set to flood us helplessly with a set of incomprehensible images almost entirely against our will.

[diremoone]

quiet kisses | r. sukuna

prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”

requested by @yuujispinkhair :: Heyyy babe, your Christmas prompt post is so cute 💗💗 If you feel inspired, can you please write a little something for Sukuna + prompt 2 or prompt 7 (whichever you prefer)? 💗💗

a/n: AHHHH thank you so much for sending this in Winter! 🤩 I can’t tell you how much I nearly exploded seeing your request in my inbox! I went with prompt 2 because that’s the one my brain started working for the fastest. I hope you like it and I did your request justice :3

w — alcohol mention, fluff, everyone is 20+ in this fic, modern AU, mentions of prompt 7 heehee, softie! sukuna, sukuna cooks at the end lmao but it’s not related to the chef! sukuna fic

[ Christmas Prompt List ]

[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]

Nobara putting on this Christmas party was anything but unexpected. She was a party girl at heart, but nothing like what you’d see at a frat house or a club. No, she was the party master (or so she likes to call herself). And you kinda had to agree. Her parties weren’t over the top, but they definitely were anything but boring.

This time was no different: catering, along pizza and wine delivery, along with some of the more higher-rated Christmas movies playing on the TV with English Christmas music playing on the background, just loud enough that it wasn’t obnoxious.

You knew your boyfriend had to agree, even if he hated attending social events and parties.

What an introvert, you muse to yourself. You wonder how many people realize that as much as Sukuna seems like it, he doesn’t actually like parties. Nor anyone but himself and you at said parties.

You and Sukuna are off to the side against the bar that separates the kitchen and living area, deep in your own little world of each other. You’re leaning on him, his big arm wrapped around your shoulders comfortably.

You nudge him. “This isn’t so bad. See!”

Sukuna scoffs. “That’s what you said when you forced me into that Santa costume last year.”

“But you had some fun, didn’t you?”

“In the suit? No. Terrorizing children in it? Absolutely.”

You slap his chest. He catches your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You grumble. “You idiot.”

“Your idiot,” he remarks with a grin.

Suddenly, like magic, the party suddenly gets loud. Jingle Bells comes on the playlist set up, and everyone has begun to sing as loud as they possibly can. Sukuna grumbles and plugs one ear with a finger, rolling his eyes. He keeps on ear open, and you know it’s just to listen to you as you attempt to sing your way through the giggles.

When the song ends, everyone cheers. Sukuna unplugs his one ear and sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made for him. They all quiet down, giggling and giddy from the sudden excitement of the old but catchy tune.

But why is everyone now looking at his and your direction?

And then everyone starts chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You and Sukuna look up at the same time, seeing a mistletoe being hung over your heads by a fishing rod, but none other than the Party Master herself. Nobara grins sadistically with an evil glint in her eye.

Sukuna cusses and downs the rest of his drink before saying, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Nice party, Kugisaki.”

You attempt to down the rest of yours before he grabs your hand with his bigger one and leads you out the front door, almost stumbling over your own two feet.

Behind you, everyone complains about Sukuna being a “party pooper” and leaving. Before you two leave, he turns back to them and gives them the finger.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t the only couple here. Maybe Geto and Gojo should finally shack up,” Sukuna says with an evil grin. The two men next to each other go redder than tomatoes in record time. Sukuna isn’t done though, looking at his little brother. “And maybe you and Fushiguro should finally get a room, too, baby brother.”

The chaos from your boyfriend’s words gives you the chance to leave without trouble, the two unspoken couples now being the main attention of Kugisaki’s evil fishing rod-mistletoe.

Maybe they’ll be together come New Years, you think happily.

Sukuna drives you both home. One hand on the wheel, the other intertwined sweetly with yours. But by the time you get home, you’re halfway asleep in the car, hot cocoa being the perpetrator of your tiredness. You attempt to blink and wake up, but Sukuna’s gruff, “Stay put.” halts you as he turns the car off, keeping his keys in one hand.

You have no idea what he’s doing until he opens your door and slides his arms under your back and legs. You squeal and giggle as he effortlessly picks you up from your seat.

“Goddamn, you got the giggles tonight,” he mutters.

Like he’s done it a thousand times (he’s at least done it a couple dozen), Sukuna unlocks the front door with you in his arms with pure ease. He carries you over the threshold like a husband would his bride and doesn’t set you down. He hoists you up, readjusting your position closer to his chest. And then you see the cunning look in his eyes.

“Sukuna, what are you— mmph!”

He dips his head and captures your lips with his. He’s warm, so warm and comforting. You feel so safe and loved in his hold and damn do you love him. Your arms naturally tighten their hold around his neck as you two kiss in your home.

When Sukuna pulls away, he chuckles. You’re slightly breathless from the sudden kiss, but grinning nonetheless.

“You couldn’t do that at the party?” you inquire curiously.

“I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe,” he replies honestly. “Especially at a party in front of people. Not my thing to make such an intimate spectacle of ourselves.”

Your heart flutters and overflows with love at his desire to keep his affection solely for your eyes to see. Sukuna has never been one to kiss or do intimate things in public beyond hand holding or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. For him, he considers that to be sacred; any acts of love he prefers to be behind closed doors, kept between the two of you and not in front of people to be fawned over or talked about.

“You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you say. “I’m so lucky. I really got the best man ever, didn’t I? Thanks, Universe.”

Your boyfriend’s cheeks tint red. A rare sight.

“Fuck. No, I’m the lucky one.” Sukuna gives you a fat smooch on the lips, the adds, “But I don’t have the universe to thank. I got you all by myself.”

You toss your head back and laugh at his indirect proclamation of arrogance. Or maybe it was just unshakable confidence, who knows?

Sukuna sets you down on the couch and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”

You think for a moment before replying, “Didn’t you say wanted to make some penne vodka the other day? That sounds good.”

“Penne alla vodka,” he corrects you with a stern eye.

You toss your hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”

But as Sukuna gets to work on the dish, you can’t help but stare at him as he works. He could be a master chef like Gordon Ramsey, if not better. But you’re kinda glad he’s not, not if you get to see him in your kitchen every night.

Yeah, you’d trade any party and PDA for his quiet kisses and love at home any day.

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss | @missmuffinr

[obbystars]

Boothill HCs

NOTES: dividers by @cafekitsune !!

( Made before 2.2 / Boothill might be OOC / GN!Reader / I was in a “writing” mood tbh / first half is fluff, second half is small angst / i just love angst )

Prefers to be the little spoon because he likes the feeling of being held. Plus he enjoys the warmth it gives him. Bonus points if you give him kisses while you’re cuddling.

Speaking of, please shower him in kisses, he loves it. It flusters him a lot and may cause him to blue screen for a moment, but aeons… he loves it. First time you did it, he did actually overheat.

A biter, but I think we all know that. He goes in, seemingly going to give you a kiss, but now you have a faint bite mark on your cheek. You’re pointing your finger at him? Chomp. Your clothes show a bit of skin? Chomp. Does he “kiss it better”? Sure, if you ask nicely enough. He’s pretty smug about it.

It took some time, but you eventually (sort of) mastered understanding Boothill through his censorship. Sometimes you even complete sentences for him, or rephrase it in the way he would’ve said it. Sometimes he tells you to tell someone they’re “this” and “that”.

Would be more than happy to help you learn how to handle a gun. You never know when it will actually come in handy in the future, so it’s better to learn now. It’s not like he can stay around for long so he can’t always be there to protect you anyway. Managing to hit your mark will have him so happy.

Has probably given you a bullet through a kiss more times than one might expect. Was it on purpose? Accident? Who knows! ( it definitely wasn’t an accident )

God forbid anyone looks at you the wrong way or let alone touch you. He’s pretty intimidating ( but so god damn hot.. ) so there aren’t a lot of fights as a result. If there is, you may want to grab a chair and a drink. Maybe two once he’s done.

A gift giver in my eyes. It’s not always something expensive, but he seems like the “I saw this and thought you might like it” kind of guy.

Since I can’t go on anywhere without slapping angst, here we go.

Part of him feels like he’s not providing you enough. As much as his body gives him an advantage in his work, it’s kind of a disadvantage when it comes to you. He’s cold and made of metal. Whenever you ask to be the little spoon this time, he always wonders if he’s crushing you. He knows how to be gentle, but he can’t help but think he’s holding you too tightly.

More often than not, he doesn’t feel like he’s in “his own body.” His body moves as he commands it to, he can still feel emotions, still think for himself, but there’s always the thought that this isn’t living. That he’s not really “living”. He doesn’t bleed red, he doesn’t have a heart that beats. He knows it doesn’t bother you, but it still bothers him. If he was given the chance to live again as a “normal” human, he’d take that in a heartbeat.

Make no mistake, he loves you more than anything. He loves how you make him feel, he loves being with you and the affection you give him. He just thinks you could have someone better. Someone who can be with you all the time and give you what he can’t. He never voices this to you, though. At least not now. Maybe one day..

Most nights, he stays up. And most nights, there are a lot of unwanted thoughts. You ever so slightly tightening your hold on him while you sleep takes him away from those thoughts for a while, only to then be reminded he has to leave you again in the morning. He hates having to do that, but there’s not much any of you can do.

I want to write so much more but UGH im outta ideas…

[erwinsvow]

“I want them to like you,” you say, tugging on Rafe’s arm to drag him away from his truck and towards the beach. “I want them to love you.” He’s standing still, feet planted firmly on the pavement. 

You’ve wanted Rafe to meet your friends for the longest time, so much so that it’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about recently. It’s not exactly accurate—he has met them before, many times, actually, but they’ve never been good encounters. You recall a bruise on Pope’s back and JJ’s busted lip, back before they knew Rafe was your boyfriend and he was just public enemy number one.

But things are better now—really, they are. You try to convince yourself all of those incidents are in the past, that everyone’s over it now. You want your friends to like your boyfriend. You want your boyfriend to like your friends. You want it so bad you’re willing to drag Rafe to the beach yourself, if that’s what it takes.

“They can’t stand me,” Rafe replies, scanning the surroundings. He doesn’t like them, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings either, if they overhear the two of you right now. “Can’t stand them, either, y’know.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” you ask, smiling wide, all cheery and bright. Like he has to tell you again. He rolls his eyes, making you laugh.

“Not at all. What gave y’that stupid idea?” You roll your own pretty eyes in a matching response.

“C’mon, Rafe, look, they’re already here-” you whine, pointing at the giant, junky thing your Pogue friends call a car. He doesn’t let you anywhere near the thing anymore if he can help it—drops you off and picks you up because that thing is a death trap, even more so with one of the stoned idiots driving it. “I don’t wanna be late, so move-” you start pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t give you an inch. 

You huff, hot sun beating down on you, muscles tired from trying to move your entirely too strong boyfriend. 

“Fine,” you finally let out, giving up. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“Good girl. I’ll swing by to get you in a couple hours and then we can go for dinner-”

“Sounds good,” you interrupt, causing Rafe to look at you with an eyebrow raised—you never interrupt him. “I’ll just have Pope put the sunscreen on my back for me. Since you won’t be there.”

“Wait a minute-”

“And JJ’s been dying to teach me how to surf. Y’know, last time I tried though, my top fell off. But I guess it’s no big deal. I bet John B can put it back on for me.”

Rafe thinks he’s mastered the look of not caring sometimes, face blank, eyes showing nothing but mild disturbance. This is not one of those times. You smile, because you can’t help it, watching your boyfriend’s ears turn bright pink, the muscles in his jaw clench, his fist tighten around your pink beach bag.

You put your hand over his, gently, trying to take the bag so you can walk away with it. You’re not sure if your plan worked until he snatches the bag back, hand holding your wrist tightly. 

“Come on, kid,” he mutters, heading in the direction of the beach. “Pain in my ass,” you hear him say quietly, but you feel giddy that he agreed to join you after all. 

Your friends are set up by the water, towels haphazardly thrown on the sand, a case of beer resting in the shade under the umbrella. JJ is waxing his board, Pope is standing next to him, critiquing his method. John has just crushed a beer can down, and chucks it at Kie, who ducks and starts yelling about how inhumane littering is. 

“Hey!” you hear Pope beam, a smile lighting up your face. “Look who’s here-” and Kie joins in with an excited yell, tossing the empty can back at John B and hitting the back of his head. 

“Thought you’d never come back to us now that you’re a fancy Kook girl. Where’s that-” JJ goes silent, watching Rafe walking behind you, staring blankly, looking pissed. “-asshole boyfriend. Nevermind, I found him.”

“I brought Rafe,” you say, a big smile taking over again. You look expectantly at everyone, and then stare until they give you the reaction you want. They mumble hi and hey, Kook, and you turn back to Rafe, taking your bag and figuring out where to put your towels—pink, like the bag, like your bikini. Rafe’s shorts are white, with little pink stripes to match you. 

You both sit down on the sand before you finally offer him the bottle of sunscreen and lay flat on your stomach so he can put it on. He squirts some onto his hands, rubbing them together to spread it out and then first slaps your ass, leaving a sandy, white handprint on the skin. Your body jerks, whining against the towel.

“Had to. Practically asking for it. M’not apologizing,” he says, quiet enough that only the two of you can hear. His hands rub the sunscreen onto your back and arms, but then you decide everything he does is too erotic for public, so you turn back, insisting that’s enough sun protection. You just got here and you don’t want to leave because you can’t resist your boyfriend just yet.

You turn your head, noticing Kie walking towards you with a can of hard seltzer, the fruity kind she knows you prefer. The boys are by the other umbrella, tossing beers at each other. You tug on Rafe’s arm again.

“Why don’t you go get a beer with them. You can talk. It’ll be nice!” 

There’s nothing he’d rather do less. 

“Came here to hang with you, not them,” he says curtly, head resting back on the towel.

“Rafe!” The things he does for you. “Please?” He shouldn’t have looked at you—that was his mistake. Five seconds of your pout and your sincere eyes is enough to make him do whatever you want.

“Five minutes, then I’m coming back. That’s it.”

“Thank you,” you sing sweetly. Kiara comes and settles down next to you. “Is it strawberry? My favorite!” he hears you say, followed by the hiss of you opening the can, as he gets up and stalks towards your friends.

Their conversation dies when Rafe steps up—something he doesn’t like. He could care less about these idiots, but he really doesn’t want you to get caught in the middle of this shit. He can see it already—your pretty face covered in tears, crying because you care too much about him, care too much about your friends.

Rafe knows you’d pick him over them, he just doesn’t want to force you to make that choice.

“What’re you drinking?” he questions. Three pairs of eyes stare at him blankly. A retort bubbles inside him angrily—Stupid and deaf? You losers can’t catch a break, huh? He turns to look at you, hoping you’re in conversation with Kie and sipping your sugary drink. You’re not. You’re staring at the four of them with a hopeful smile.

He swallows the comment and turns with a forced, hard smile. “Beer? That’s great. Toss me one.” Pope does as he says, and then goes back to drinking his own. 

“S’like weird, to see you smile. Didn’t know you could do that,” JJ comments, crushing his own beer can up now that it was empty. Rafe wishes you were here, listening, because-

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?” John B lets out a laugh at that, Pope joins in. Rafe cracks another smile, they’re pretty goofy, just like you had said. “Nah, I’m just saying, like, didn’t think you could be nice. Must be, if she likes you.”

Rafe turns to look back at you again, quickly. You’re talking to Kie now, head thrown back, laughing. You look prettiest like this, when you’re happy. 

“Yeah, for her.” Then he takes another long chug of the beer, looking back at them. “You idiots don’t make it easy.”

“It’s not easy for us, either,” Pope interjects. “I mean, you did hit me with a golf club.” Rafe runs a hand through his hair, unsure what to say, because he did do that. 

“Yeah, I, uh-” he trails off. “Sorry, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” JJ says.

“All in the past,” John B tacks on. 

It must be several beers later, because you hear the boys laughing and… getting along? You decide to walk over, just to make sure your eyes and ears aren’t deceiving you. The box they had just bought earlier today was filled with the empties, the unmistakable sound of your boyfriend’s laugh filling your ears, your friends all engaged in conversations. You decide to turn back rather than interrupt, giddiness filling your heart that everything worked out. You don’t catch the end of their conversation, already back to your towel and opening another drink with Kie.

“And then I went there,” JJ starts, “-and I was like should I leave, because then her parents might wake up, because I forgot the condom-”

JJ stops to take another sip of the beer, and Rafe cuts him off.

“Wait, you guys use condoms?” 

Three pairs of eyes turn on him.

When you two walk back to his truck a little later, he swings his arm around you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“What was that for?” you ask, happy and tired.

“Yeah, I don’t think they like me much.”

[roxannepolice]

Between plain irritation with acting like the Master could be just seamlessly reintroduced and if you don't agree then you must hate the character on the one hand, and the fact that RTD is quite obviously itching to write them again, even has a guy mourning his dead wife with Ten's line from TSOD, I think what needs to be addressed is the poetics and tonality.

Like, Fifteen clearly is upset about destruction of Gallifrey and does think of Time Lords as their people, in fact he's wearing the most Gallifreyan cultural elements on himself out of all regenerations. At the same time, RTD doesn't seem as hung up on them as a personal axis universi as the writing was keen on being recently, so I don't think the Master's eventual return will follow that path. Like, on the one hand they can't be reintroduced in a purely hostile way, because then the dynamic would be fully negative, yet at the same time it shouldn't be another "the Master only wants to be friends again". They have to be reestablished as a character with their independent selfish agenda, yet not focused solely on hating the Doctor.

I don't think any "x is actually the Master" plotline would work, just because you don't go out of your way to insert a tooth side plot in a story that has nothing to do with them, only to later use it only as a flashback after the revelation of another plot device of a chameleon arch (like, the storytelling awareness that you do in fact have to establish aspects of the lore that are relevant to the story at hand seems to be back on the menu, so you'd have to one, establish who the Master is and two, how the chameleon arch works there just aren't enough episodes) and also RTD seems to really like the idea of Time Lords sniffing each other like cats in heat. Total reset and comeback of baby Master also seems, one, like a cop out, two, also superfluous to the tooth, so for all that Belinda only having abstract "Mum and Dad", and a break up from when she was a teenager is off for RTD, I don't think this is going anywhere either.

So I think the obvious plotline for when you want to reintroduce a genius villain with a situationship with the protagonist after a major fuck up is "there's totally only one person that can help now", I mean, Belinda specifically connecting there being no other Time Lords with no one coming to help seems to nudge in this direction. Like, think Loki in the Dark World, right? Reluctant cooperation is what Thoschei Casablanca actually is! Except, the Doctor straight up doesn't know about the tooth. So we have to look to mysterious hand suddenly appearing on UNIT HQ's terrace. Still don't know who that is, the following scenario would work if this is Kate, though the tonality would be different, but for now I'm going to let my imagination loose and go with "mrs Flood is actually the daedric prince of television in the Pantheon (you get it, right? Flood, as in waves, so if the god of light controls cinema, then waves are what makes television, also mrs Flood is an anagram of, uuuh, old forms, as in old forms of communication, she popped up out of nowhere as she seems to do, and had red nails because she knows it's red fingernails that pick up the Master), and while not exactly good, she's impersonally invested in the Doctor going on as what feeds her and also ships thoschei". Ok, so with that.

I think the neatest way to get the Master back in is the penultimate episode having the Doctor taken away, perhaps trapped in another daedric realm by, ugh, Cath Palug, the monstrous cat of Welsh folklore and arthuriana. And Belinda, and Ruby, and probably some UNIT memebers (this is why Kate would work too), are all moping because, well maybe the Earth was saved but the Doctor had to sacrifice himself, and someone goes "If there was anything could be done to bring him back…", and suddenly mrs Flood is in the frame, giving the audience a jumpscare asking "Would you do it? Hmmm? What… would you? Hmmm? What would any of you be willing to do? Hmmm? Would you sail to the ends of the universe, and beyond, to fetch back clever Doctor and his precious TARDIS?", and everyone is like "Aye.", and then she goes "Alright. But if you're goin' brave the weird, and haunted shores, in the chaos outside of the universes, then… you will need a captain who knows those waters." AAAND SHE PULLS OUT THE TOOTH AND IT SAYS "So tell me, what's become of my ship?"

Roll credits.

[show-your-fangs]

I request very politely, you better continue the camgirl story with all the smut there is or I'm suing 😫 Some proper thigh action would be nice 🤭

there's no thigh riding in this one, but it will happen i promise my darling, i owe you and i will deliver.

The Contract | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part Two

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl!Reader

Words: 5.6k

CW: 18+, mdni, nsfw.

Tags/warnings: D/s relationship, master!hotch x sub!reader, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl, good girl), (semi public) mutual masturbation, cum play, aftercare (is important istfg).

a/n: this fucking series and i...holy shit i cannot get enough of it. it's all i think about every day, i just can't stop thinking about them. my apologies to moments, it has been dethroned in my heart.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

His lips were on you just as quickly as his hands. 

It was overwhelming, your legs practically going numb as he pulled you into his room, all you could think to do was desperately try to deepen the kiss. He didn’t hold back, he couldn’t hold back, even if he wanted to, and thankfully you didn’t want that either. 

You opened your mouth for him as his hands ran down your back to grab your ass, greedy, possessive, as if it had always belonged to him. He pulled you off the ground, maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist. You obeyed without question, your legs holding onto him tightly as your arms hooked behind his neck. 

It was a fervor of tongues clashing, teeth grazing, hands digging into soft skin. His finger nails dug harshly into your plush ass, eliciting a squeal from your throat. He groaned into the kiss in response, swiftly walking back towards the king size bed in his room and slamming you down on it. 

You moaned into his mouth, the roughness only getting you going even more. He was sure he was living a dream, his heart beating so fast it was sure to explode. He pressed his body down over yours, enveloping you whole with his weight, keeping you trapped between him and the mattress.

It wasn’t that he thought you would escape, it was more that he didn’t even want to give you the option. You ground your hips into his crotch then, desperate hands trying to rip his shirt off his back. 

He pulled back from the kiss, making sure to bite down on your bottom lip and tug as far as he was able before you tensed under him. Only then did he let go, swiftly pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the dark room. 

You were panting hard, your ears were ringing, your chest and face were most definitely flushed crimson. You could feel him press his crotch into yours, hard, stiff, warm. So warm it almost made you melt into him. 

Your hands immediately traced over his back, fingers gliding over every muscle, every ride, every dimple. His own returned to your body just as hungrily, his fingers gently tracing down your chin, your neck, your arms, your sides, before they made their home on your hips, squeezing them experimentally to gauge your reaction.

You hummed, running your own arms down his chest to pull him closer to you once more. This was everything, it was too much, having your boss so close, so warm against your core, so desperate and needy for you, just like user1102, was making your head feel dizzy with pleasure.

“Please, Master,” you whined. “I need—”

Your stomach growled loudly then, reminding you that you were actually starving.

You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted out of your mouth and into his, his own lips curling into a soft smile as he pressed them to yours one final time before he detached himself completely from your body. 

You sat yourself up, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He turned on the light, the faint glow from the one at the entrance of his room not enough as he now needed the entire room to be bathed in it, to sober him up enough to be able to restrain himself from taking you right then and there. 

He turned to face you the second that it did, to fully take you in, to make sure that it hadn’t been a dream. You were still there, still panting softly, still looking at him with those round, expressive eyes he adored. 

“When did you figure it out?” you asked him softly, clearly eager to fill the overwhelming silence that had taken over the room. 

He walked over to the mini bar and poured a glass of water before he finally addressed you. 

“I started to suspect the day you hit your foot at the office.”

Your eyes widened immediately, your cheeks flushing in response as you remembered that you’d seen him that same night…privately. You fell back on the bed, hands covering your face in embarrassment. 

“No!” you whined. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You felt him walk back over to the bed and sit on the other side, far away and yet incredibly close. 

“I wasn’t sure,” he replied, gently nudging you to look at him. 

You took a short, steadying breath before you let your hands slip away from your face, eyes finally adjusting and making out the glass of water and sandwich he’d bought for himself in his hands. 

You smiled brightly, the prospect of Hotch, of your boss, of user1102 taking care of you, made your heart flutter. You got up to your knees, carefully taking the two items before you settled criss cross on the bed in front of him. 

“What about now?” you asked him in between gulps of water, remembering all the other times he’d watched you drink it diligently after a particularly demanding scene. “What do you want now that you know?”

He took the glass back from you and placed it on the bedside table once it was empty. “Good girl,” the words spilled out of his mouth out of habit and you immediately stilled, the heat in your lower belly slowly starting to build back up.

He noticed your reaction, subtle and yet it made him feel like the most powerful person in the world. 

“We shouldn’t,” he stated as a matter of fact. “Not right now.”

Your face immediately fell into a deep pout, almost unconsciously looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. He sighed deeply, looking down to break the spell you clearly had him under, his hands clutching onto the bed covers tightly. 

“The things I want to do to you, sweet girl,” his voice was strained, hoarse, heavy on his chest. You were practically buzzing with anticipation, one second away from allowing your judgement to lapse and leap across the bed into his arms. 

But you knew he was right. You knew you shouldn’t rush into this, as much as you trusted him, as much as you knew him, as much as he made your heart practically leap out of your chest with a simple glance.

You didn’t have a lot of time, your mind already racing with excuses to give Emily if you found her still awake when you got back to the room. 

“I want,” he started, voice calm, collected, clear. “I want to be your Dom, bunny.” He watched your reaction to his words like a hawk. Your entire body tensed, all the memories of your encounters over the past few months crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Only you weren’t drowning, but rather being filled with so much air it was overwhelming.

Your gaze met his, the rest of his face devoid of any emotion, and yet his brown eyes were overflowing with them. He was terrified, positively horror-stricken about how you may react, about losing not only your friendship but also the outlet of release he’d grown to depend on. 

But instead, you just beamed at him. You threw your things on the mattress before you shot back up to your knees and shuffled across the bed towards him. 

He let you, his heart going so fast he couldn’t feel his arms or legs. You sat yourself over his lap, arms wrapping around his neck again before your lips were on his. It was a soft kiss, so soft he almost thought it hadn’t happened. But then it did again, and again, and again, and again, and soon enough you were devouring him in the sweetest kisses he’d ever experienced.

His heart swelled, his hands shooting up to wrap around your back, pressing you tightly against him once more. “Is that a yes?”

“Enthusiastically,” you smiled before leaning back down to place another kiss on his now puffy lips. 

And just like that, he had everything.

You returned to your room soon after, sandwich in hand and dizzy with happiness. He’d asked you to text him when you made it back, a small test to gage just how enthusiastic you were about this, and you hadn’t disappointed him, going as far as to reassure him that you really, really, really wanted this.

Aaron couldn’t sleep that night, he couldn’t get his mind to stop racing, his heart to calm down, his excitement to dwindle enough for him to even close his eyes. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was more powerful than after he’d run a marathon, and he needed to channel it into something or else he was going to go crazy.

He thought about touching himself, about relieving the ache in his crotch, but he’d told you not to even think about touching yourself, wanting to frustrate you just enough until the two of you entered an official agreement. And so he didn’t do it either, it was only fair.

Instead he sat himself at the small desk that came with the room and he wrote. He wrote everything he could think of, everything he wanted to do to you, how he wanted to take you, how he wanted to take care of you, how he wanted to punish you, how he wanted to dominate you. 

He wrote until his alarm sounded and the sun started to fill the world outside in a faint warm glow. He wrote until Dave was knocking on his door to make sure he was alright. It was only then, when he’d finished writing everything, that he snapped back into reality, got himself ready for the day, and stepped out to meet the rest of the team. 

He’d made sure to keep you as far away from him the entire day, not trusting himself to not linger, to not lose focus, to not give himself a single reason to take you in the precinct bathroom. 

You had a suspect in custody by early afternoon, and he’d made sure to keep you in the precinct with Reid, where you were safe. He was sure you knew why he’d made the call, it was pretty obvious and would definitely be one of the things that the two of you had to discuss. 

But it didn’t matter, at least not right now. You didn’t even think to disobey, didn’t even think about the fact that he was definitely doing this because of everything that had happened the night before, didn’t even begin to let the new dynamic between the two of you settle. You’d been distracted all day, desperately trying to not allow your feelings for him to show. 

It was dark by the time you boarded the plane back to Quantico, everyone pretty much determined to get some rest before you made it back. The couch was the first to go, Morgan and Reid fighting over it like children until Morgan won out, immediately plopping down on it and turning his headphones on high. 

Rossi and Spencer took up the single seats facing the bathroom and kitchen while Emily and JJ took up a double seater, leaving you and Aaron at the head of the plane alone. You sat next to the window by yourself, as far away from JJ and Emily as you could just in case he had other plans than sleeping. 

It took everything in him to not sit down next to you right away, the action would’ve been too obvious with all the empty seats around. And so for the first twenty minutes of the flight, you sat alone, waiting, trying to distract yourself by looking out the window. 

He’d been staring at you relentlessly, impatiently waiting for the plane to stabilize in the air before thinking about approaching. He’d sat himself down at the perfect angle to watch you, his laptop light being the only one illuminating the otherwise pitch black plane. 

He’d been reading the contract again, making sure that whatever he’d written in his sleep deprived and incredibly horny state was actually coherent, and properly worded before sending it to you. 

Once he was sure everyone else was asleep, once he made sure that everything was worded as clearly as possible since there was no need for any twisted legal jargon, once he made sure that he was calm and collected enough, he hit send and watched as your phone lit up on the table beside you. 

Your attention was finally brought back to the room, your hand shakily picking up the device before you saw what he’d sent you. He’d been smart to send it to your encrypted chat instead of to your official email, but it didn’t make it any less daunting, the lines between you and Aaron, and bouncingbunny1 and user1102 officially blurring. 

You didn’t even dare glance in his direction, terrified of what it would do to you when you caught a glimpse of just how pent up he was. Instead you opened the file and began reading. 

To say he was thorough was an understatement. You knew Aaron never did things halfway, never did things without thinking them through, and he’d clearly been thinking about this for a while. 

He’d confessed early on in your private sessions that he’d never done anything like this before, never demanded complete control over someone in the way that he wanted over you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, willing to put in the work and learn. 

You’d spent the entire first month just learning each other’s limits, him learning yours and discovering his own. By the second month he was more confident, eager to try things he’d found, determined to start having fun after setting up the foundation of trust between the two of you. 

You had been enthusiastic from the start, never actually having someone exert this amount of dominance over you before. Sure, you’d had a few partners who were rough and liked to sometimes use you in the way you truly craved, but it had never been like this. You’d never gotten to explore the lifestyle this fully, with rules and requirements and clauses in place to protect yourself and your partner.  

By the third month you’d gotten into a very comfortable routine with user1102, knew what to expect from your sessions, and it was through that knowledge that you somehow became even more excited to meet with him.

But there was just so much you could do, so much he could do to keep things interesting, to fill the ache in your chest, to fill the ache in your core. Your fingers had quickly become not enough so you’d started to use toys, and after a while even that wasn’t enough. You wanted him, needed him, craved him, in the flesh, to do the things he’d been making you do to yourself.

There had been a particularly tough case few weeks back that had you aching and desperate. You’d made it back home worked up, almost as badly as the first time you’d met him, and all you could think about was needing to be fucked so hard you forgot your name. 

You were so close to biting the bullet, so close to asking him to meet face to face, so close to begging for him to come use you. But you knew you shouldn’t, knew that no matter how much you trusted him, you’d never seen his face, didn’t even know his name, and that could’ve been disastrous. 

You didn’t realize you’d started rubbing your thighs together until you accidentally tapped your clit against the rough hem of your underwear. Your mouth was watering, your chest was practically heaving, your eyes clouded in lust as you read through the list of kinks that he had so thoroughly provided. 

It was long, from calmer ones like spanking to the rougher ones he’d told you he fantasized about like collars and leashes. He was so perfect, your kinks lining up so perfectly that it almost felt like he’d been made just for you…or maybe you’d been made just for him, for each other. 

You knew he was watching you from across the aisle, knew he was making sure to catch every reaction, every thought, every time your breath hitched. He needed to see it all, needed to know that you were consenting enthusiastically every step of the way, because even an ounce of hesitation and he would put a stop to it immediately.

bouncingbunny1: Master?

You bit down on your lip as you watched him pick up his phone, his attention off you and back on you virtually exhilarating. 

user1102: Yes, bunny?

bouncingbunny1: May I please please please please pretty please touch myself?

He fought the urge to slam his laptop and cross the aisle towards you. Instead he took a steadying breath, daring to look at you, your puppy eyes and disarming pout barely visible in the low light of your phone screen. 

But the little that he saw was enough to make him lose it, to finally realize that it didn’t matter just how much he wanted to be in control of you, you would always be in control of him first. Whatever you wanted, he would give to you, and the thought didn’t scare him, instead it only made him want you more. 

user1102: Go to the bathroom and wait for me in there.

He watched as you locked your phone, plunging you in darkness once more before you slid out of your seat and made your way to the back of the plane. He waited impatiently for a few minutes, the anticipation of what he was about to do, to make you do, to see, finally in the flesh, made his heart beat rise like bile up his throat.

He finally stood, slowly yet surely walking across the plane, carefully making sure that no one had woken up, that no one knew what was happening. He didn’t need the looks, didn’t need wandering eyes to put two and two together, wanted to keep this just between the two of you, the privacy you deserved to figure whatever this was out the most important thing in his mind. 

He stood in front of the unlocked bathroom for a second, steadying himself, getting out of his head and allowing him to slip into the role he’d been dreaming of playing for so long. 

The bathroom was barely big enough for two people, but he squeezed in there regardless, his back pressed to the door tightly so that he didn’t touch you. You were just as overwhelmed as he was, your chest rising and falling deeply, your eyes glossed over with desire, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. 

He smirked to himself, the knowledge that you had gone to the bathroom before you left the precinct and changed into a skirt because you knew some version of this exact thing would happen almost enough to make him want to deny you of the pleasure. 

He wanted to keep this professional, like it had been every time he called. One last time for old time’s sake, one last time before you were both responsible about this and discussed everything that he’d just sent you, one last time before you signed your names on a piece of paper that made you his officially. Only then would he allow himself to touch you, to worship you, to give you everything you wanted. 

“On the counter,” he told you, eager to put some space between the two of you. 

He watched you like a hawk, starving eyes following every twitch, every breath, every movement diligently. Your brain processed his words and you stepped forward, jumping on the vanity and waiting patiently for his next command. It had been like this for a while, this understanding of each other, of receiving and accepting.

He moved to face you, so close to you, to your open legs, to where he desperately craved to be. And still far enough that you were starting to get desperate, needy, whiny with each second that his hands weren’t on you.

“Bunch your skirt around your waist,” he continued, his strong hand coming up to rest over his growing erection. 

You did as he said, eyes never leaving his. Your hands shook over your sheer tights, almost eagerly hooking under them and pulling them down your legs. But you stopped yourself, returning your hand back to its place against the sink to hold you up. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand squeezing himself through his pants. That’s when you caught onto his game, caught onto what he was going to ask you to do since that was exactly what you had asked after all. “You can take them off now.”

You’ve never taken off your tights faster. There was always an issue, always something they got hooked on or an area where they stuck to your skin. But tonight they slid off your legs without so much as a beat too late. You tossed them to the side hurriedly and were met with an amused chuckle from the man in front of you. 

But as much as he was trying to appear calm and collected, his hand had tightened his movements, his grip on himself clearly eager as well. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, clearly enjoying the sight, the sight that he’d never allowed you to see, the sight that you’ve been fantasizing about for months. 

“Go ahead, make yourself cum, bunny,” he groaned, back pressing against the wall farther to hold himself up. 

Your cheeks immediately flushed crimson, embarrassment washing over you in burning hot waves. It was silly, you knew that. You’d done that and so much more for him, because of him for months. He’s probably seen you in as many positions, with as many toys, cumming in just as many ways — and yet this is what got you. 

Make yourself cum. Make yourself cum while your boss watched you, make yourself cum while user1102 touches himself, make yourself cum while Aaron held your stare in his and completely shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you have built for the past year.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweet girl,” he cooed, his hand stilling its movements as an incentive for you to start yours.

You took one final steadying breath before you plunged, damning every self conscious thought you had into the darkest pits of your brain.

Your left hand slid down your stomach, teasing, making him pay for what he’s doing to you, as you pulled your legs up on the vanity, knees bent towards your chest.

His eyes glimmered in the light of the bathroom, his mouth slowly hanging open in anticipation, practically salivating for you. 

You pressed your back against the mirror as your fingers hooked into your panties, pulling the completely soaked material to the side, exposing your slick folds to him. You watched him eagerly as he took in a sharp breath, his eyes darting between yours and your heat. 

He was quick to reward you, his own hands unbuckling his belt unbearably slow. Two could play at this game, but neither of you had the patience for it right now. Your right hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit. 

You moaned, just for him, just to remind him of what he should be doing as well, and he wasted no time sliding his zipper down and greedily pulling his cock out of his underwear. 

You forgot how to breathe for a second, your brain struggling to process what it was seeing. He was big, bigger than your fantasies had concocted, bigger than you ever though he could’ve been, bigger than you knew what to do with. He smirked at the attention, stepping forward to bring it back to his face. 

“Spit in my hand, bunny,” he extended his open palm to you and you could’ve sworn your head had exploded. 

It took you a second to decide what to do. Your right hand returned to your aching entrance, gathering as much of your arousal as you could before you slapped your slick covered fingers against his palm. 

He groaned loudly, so much so that it made your walls clench around nothing as even more leaked out of you. Before he could pull back, you brought his hand forward. You gathered as much saliva as you could in your mouth before leaning forward, eyes staring up at him filled with innocence, and you let the spit fall through your pursed lips onto his hand, mixing with the rest of your juices. 

“Oh bunny, you’re killing me,” he moaned, his now drenched hand wrapping around his cock swiftly. 

You smiled up at him, prideful, filthy, lustful, before your hand returned to its previous motions. You focused your energy on your clit now, slow and tight circles, matching the pace he subconsciously set. 

As much as Aaron had revered to watch you pleasure yourself through his screen, that had been nothing compared to the real deal, to having you displayed in front of him, to knowing that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted. 

“Finger yourself with your other hand,” he said through gritted teeth, the roughness of his hand around his sensitive tip almost pushing him over the edge. But he wasn’t done, he didn’t want to be, at least not yet.

You did as he wanted, making sure to open your legs wider so that he could watch as your fingers slid in and out of you. He moaned then, the sound practically vibrating in tandem with the airplane around you, making you almost feel him all around you.

He picked up his pace, strokes becoming more and more aggressive as he encouraged you to do the same. He was close, you could tell, and it swelled your chest with pride.

Usually you had to hear him closely, listen for those grunts that always let you know he was getting there. But seeing how his jaw tensed, how his breathing strained, how his hand squeezed harder around himself — you could not take it, your own tension building.

He knew that reaction well. He’d seen you wear it many times before. Your fingers were curling meticulously against your g-spot, your other ones picking up their pace over your clit while your thighs began to close together, seeking to relieve the tension. 

But what made it even sweeter was the way he could now see your desire plastered all over your face, like you were the easiest book he’d ever read.

You looked at him, pleading, a broken shell of the confident agent he’d gotten the chance to know, turned into the slut he knew you could be. He took another step forward, his erection unbelievably close to your entrance, one more step and his tip would be in you. 

You let out a gasp, your gaze frozen on the minuscule distance between your bodies. You wanted him to move forward, needed him to fill you up and relief the ache inside of you. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t and you knew it well.

Even then, in your desperation, you admired his determination to do things the right way. You both needed release, both craved it desperately, but he was not about to jeopardize your future relationship, one that needed to be built on of trust and communication and respect, for a quickie in the jet’s bathroom.

“Cum for me, bunny,” he told you, his voice gruff. You whimpered, allowing yourself to tune into the wave and ride it until it exploded within you. 

You moaned loudly, your fingers not letting up their movements as you rode out your orgasm. Your walls clenched around your fingers, a gush of wetness pouring out of you to coat them in your slick. 

His own strokes stilled for a moment, watching you come undone, savoring the fruits of his labor, waiting for you to come down from your high. It was only when your fingers slid out of you and you stilled your moments completely that he returned to his own. 

“Can I cum in your panties, sweet girl?” he asked, his words getting tangled up in the unholy sounds spilling out of him. 

You were hazy, your mind desperately trying to hold onto reality, onto your wits, onto the sound of his voice because you were terrified that if you didn’t, this would all disappear into thin air, back into the dream that you’d had for so long. 

“Yes,” you managed, your shaky hand lifting up the front of your panties so that he could spill his seed over you. 

His movements became erratic then, strokes became tugs, and just as quickly as it had began, it ended. He fully stepped into your personal space, his other hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you in place as he emptied himself into the wet cotton of your panties. 

Your slick mixed with his spend, hot and heavy on your skin, clearly meant to mark you as his. He moaned into your ear, low, unhinged, euphoric, and you couldn’t help but whimper in return. 

You were so far gone, so little and malleable, so much so that you knew that whatever he asked you to do then, you’d do it without question. Your head fell on the crook of his neck, labored breaths filling the room as he gently unhooked your fingers from your underwear to place it back to cover you. 

He couldn’t stop looking at the white substance seeping through your panties, the squishy and lewdly wetness against your skin making him excited to fill your pussy up until you were leaking him everywhere. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes. He knew he couldn’t keep you like that, couldn’t ask you to walk back out there and act as though nothing had happened, couldn’t risk you getting a rash because of his own ego. 

At some point he tucked himself back into his boxers, getting himself back to the pristine put together image that he always was. He waited until you’d calmed down a little more before he cupped your face with his hands, pulling you to look at him again. 

“Bunny, I’m going to get you all cleaned up, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes sleepily blinking shut longer and longer. He set you back against the mirror, grabbing one of the towels and wetting it before he gently ran it over your hands and the inside of your thighs. 

He set the towel to the side before he hooked his index fingers in your panties, pulling them down your legs before tossing them into the sink. He cleaned your pussy gently, making sure to get every last bit of the two of you off your delicate skin. 

Once he was done, he patted you dry with another towel, reaching over to where your tights had landed to pick them up. He got on his knees, a sight that had you perking up just enough to catch him staring up at you with so much adoration you honestly didn’t know what to do with it. 

It took everything in you not to melt right into his tough, to stay awake enough even though his warm finger riding up your legs was enough to lull you to sleep. It was only when he needed to hoist your tights over your ass that he picked you up, placing you back down on your shaky legs.

“Can you do me one last favor, sweet girl?” he whispered and you did your best to nod. “Can you pee for me? I don’t want you getting a UTI.”

You sighed deeply, being diligent not something you were looking forward to in that moment. But you nodded again, and he rewarded you with a soft kiss to your temple before he stepped outside of the bathroom to give you some privacy.

Once you were done, he walked you back to his seat on the plane, not caring if anyone saw because he knew that even if they did, they wouldn’t say anything at all. He made sure you were comfortable, wrapped in a blanket, buckled into the seat for safety, before he made his way back to the bathroom. 

He cleaned everything up, going through his own routine before he washed his hands, pocketed your still damp panties, and made sure nothing looked out of place. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before making his way back to you.

He sat beside you, his hand softly grazing your cheek to wake you up long enough to press the bottle on your lips, silently urging you to drink. 

You did without question, almost as if you’d done this all your life, the motion nothing more than routine, easy, normal. 

“Master?” you whispered sweetly after he deemed you’d drank enough. 

“Yes, bunny?”

“Can I have a kiss please?”

“Of course, sweet girl,” his nose tickled your own before his lips landed on yours, gentle, kind, perfect. You hummed against him, eyes closing for the final time before sleep overtook you. 

He smiled proudly, his heart so full, so content, so excited for what the future had in store for the first time in a very long time. He watched you sleep the rest of the flight, watched you curl further into him, watched you reciprocate all of the feelings that had been plaguing him since the night before.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and that was all he needed to lay the self-sabotage to bed, to allow himself to drift off to sleep, even if it was just for a few minutes so that he could fully take you in, because all he really needed was you curled into his side like you belonged there all along.

fucking hell i am oN MY KNEES for this man. honestly what a fucking jOY it is to write them.

send me more requests for bunny and clyde!! i don't really have a series planned for them so i'm down to just write requested scenarios and play around with where their story goes.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @xladyxdreamer, @gr3enflowers, @lilyviolets, @howabouticallyou, @shadowmemory, @simp4f1, @honeylovemoon, @powelvr25

[rieamena]

storytime!!! so basically im going through a mini writer's block right now so i started cooking to get my mind off it and now all i can think about is cooking with ino takuma

wc: 0.8k contains: pure fluff and nanami's here too i guess, reader is referred to as girlfriend, modern au author's note: fun fact! so i lost most of this and i had to rewrite all of the parts i lost and when i found out i actually started to cry! but i hope yall like it! inbox open for requests + qna questions + anything and everything

first off, i firmly believe this guy is the most mediocre chef EVER. you cannot convince me otherwise. however!, i will give him his props. he can cook his cute lil suspiciously scrumptious dishes when he has the time but that does not stop him from trying to get better at cooking

once you two started dating, he without a doubt begun brushing up on his skills. he went from being able to make a "banger sandwich" to a "banger le poulet frit et les gaufres" which was just chicken and waffles but he's trying okay!!!

he definitely consulted (begged) head chef nanami, as he called him in this situation, to help with his culinary skills. and i'm not talking regular begged, i'm talking groveling at his feet, begged. and nanami obliged, teaching ino how to cook, starting at the very basics, the importance of mise en place: the practice of organizing and preparing your ingredients and equipment before starting to cook

soon enough, ino's culinary lessons with head chef nanami blossomed. he started from basically nothing and now he's mastered the perfect milk to cereal ratio and a near perfect filet mignon. did he know what that was? no. did he watch nanami make it under the excuse of watching is the best form of learning? yes.

but you have to start somewhere! and you have to give him his tens!! he did light the stove and he preheat the oven. he's practically a chef already! and all that watching definitely paid off

"here, try this recipe with your girlfriend." nanami slid a slip of paper over to ino, tiny, uniform inked words on it. "and here is your copy, good luck." an identical piece of paper was given to ino again but it had handwritten notes like pay attention to the flame and i wouldn't recommend substituting this ingredient, it is very vital for the overall taste of the dish

so here you both were in the kitchen, aprons on and eyes peering at the recipe. "step one," takuma started, tightening his apron like he was about to do some serious work. he lifted up a comically large pot and placed it on the stove, pulling out (and flaunting) the crabs he handpicked from the market right after. "get your pot and your crabs."

"step two," you filled the pot halfway with water, sprinkling in a bit of salt and lighting the fire underneath it. "bring your pot of water to a rapid boil."

"what're you doing babe?" your words were clearly a question though it was one that you could answer simply by looking. "i'm paying attention to the flame." takuma pulled your shoulder flush to his, eyes still watching the blue flame with intent and unwavering focus. "i don't think it's going anywhere but okay."

once the water bubbled up violently, ino threw in the crabs and you went to the bathroom to freshen up. you were humming a sweet song while drying your hands when the all too familiar shrill scream of your boyfriend pierced your ears. "takuma?!" you called out, running to the kitchen, hands an uncomfortable damp. and there he was. takuma had the pot lid propped up as if it were a shield, tears pricking his eyes, "baby...", he called out to you. "the crab... it jumped out of the pot..."

"you bought live crabs...?"

"they weren't moving when i bought them."

"ah."

grabbing some nearby tongs, you placed the crab back into the salted water, "wait..., shouldn't we kill them first?" ino slowly nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket, "let's see... wikihow... how to cook a crab..."

"freeze the crabs?!" your in-sync voices rang through your house, bouncing off the walls. "we're not freezing any crabs." you continued, confusion and sass dripping from your lips. "damn right we're not! but, uh, how're we supposed to kill them then?" gulping at your boyfriend's question, you thought for a bit

tugging at one of the drawers, a collection of knives, given to you both by nanami, were revealed. picking the biggest one up and holding it's handle firm and tightly. "surely we could just," the blade sliced through the air, mimicking the swift movement of killing a crab. takuma shook in his place, "hey, queen, you should, uh, watch where you're swinging that. you might hurt yourself," he came closer to you, fingers squeezing and squishing your cheeks. "and then i would have to nurse my pretty girlfriend back to health!"

slapping his hands away playfully, you sighed, "babe, focus! what're we gonna do? i don't wanna kill the crabs..." ino put his hands on his hips, a triumphant smile on his face, "don't worry, i got this."

long story short, he did not.

"oh my god." the plastic fork slipped from takuma's hands clanking against the matching plastic container of takeout

"what?"

"we didn't do mise en place."

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @gojosbrat @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @lailuv21