#was a phenomenally stupid move also

[tanadrin]

I had to look up didius julianus after my wife proposed him as a cat namesake (to be fair, mostly bc it lends itself to the nickname “didi “), and I gotta say, buying the office of Roman emperor after the praetorian guard killed the last guy is just a phenomenally stupid move.

[girlygguk]

Hey lyssa 💕

How about a salsa teacher JK, the ultimate thirst trap lol if you’d like to include smut I’m not going to say no and if there’s some crack in it that’ll be fine too (but pls just write what you feel like atm ☺️)

Lots of love 🫂

pairing salsa teacher!jk x uni student!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, strangers to lovers

word count 2.3k

warnings age gap (jk 29 yn 22), porn w a little plot, pet names during sex, dirty talk, praise kink, protected p in v sex, doggy, consensual choking

you felt like an absolute idiot.

how you let your best friend convince you to attend salsa classes after your recent breakup with anton, you had no idea. and to top it all off, anton was from cuba. it felt like a cruel joke, and you told jimin to promptly go fuck himself at first, but the psych major insisted it could be therapeutic… that it might help you “move on” or whatever the fuck.

you couldn’t say no to jimin. no one could. especially not when he showed up on your doorstep with his boyfriend in matching shirts and a cute little red dress that matched their outfits just for you.

so here you were. standing in that little red flowy dress in a dance studio downtown with about seven other people, third-wheeling with your best friend and his boyfriend, yoongi, who looked just as displeased to be there as you were. but, as you said, no one could say no to that stupid face.

"ah, we have some new faces today," the instructor announced with a grin that lit up the room.

jeon jungkook. salsa teacher. abnormally and infuriatingly gorgeous.

his black shirt clung to his broad chest and shoulders in a way that should’ve been classified as unprofessional. and his pants? snug. perfectly fucking snug. it took everything in you to keep your eyes from drifting to places they shouldn’t.

light chuckles filled the studio while you forced a smile, bumping jimin with your hip when he nudged you teasingly.

"okay," jungkook’s smooth voice cut through the chatter, "let’s see where everyone’s skill level is at."

fuck.

“maybe i can sit this part out,” you whispered to jimin, but of course, he wasn’t having it.

“nuh-uh,” he grinned, shaking his head. “it’s okay. you’re good, honey. it’ll be quick.”

you groaned internally as jungkook strolled around the room, demonstrating the basic steps with effortless grace. it was unfair, really. no one should be able to move like that.

you could dance. you weren’t anywhere near jimin’s level, of course—he was insane. but growing up with jimin and your other best friend, hobi, who was also a phenomenal dancer, you’d picked up a few things. you’d join in their practices sometimes, but while you preferred hip hop like hobi, jimin excelled in contemporary styles. he already knew how to salsa; you’d seen him do it plenty of times before. he was here for his boyfriend, which would normally be cute, except now you were fucking dragged along, too.

as jungkook approached, his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long. you blinked, waiting for him to realize he was staring. he didn’t.

his eyes were warm, teasing, with a glint of… something else.

the corners of his lips tugged upward as he crossed the room toward you. “let’s see how you’re doing,” jungkook said smoothly, his voice dropping a little as he stepped in front of you. his hand extended toward you, palm up, waiting for yours.

you blinked again, looking at his big, tattooed hand before slipping your palm into his. it was warm.

his fingers wrapped around yours, firm yet gentle, and his other hand lightly rested on your waist. “just follow my lead,” he said, his breath warm against your ear as he positioned you into the basic stance.

jungkook’s hips moved in perfect time with the music, and you could tell he was calming his movements down slightly for you. you either needed to get laid or a fucking grip, because even that was kind of turning you on.

his touch was steady, guiding you through each step, but you forced yourself not to focus on the heat of his hand on your waist. the proximity, the way his fingers flexed ever so slightly against your body with each move. god.

“you’re doing really good,” jungkook murmured, leaning a little closer as he guided you into a turn. his breath brushed your cheek, and you had to swallow slightly.

sure, you were twenty-two, and he looked like he was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, but there was no doubt he was flirting with you. you knew what it looked like when a guy was flirting.

unless this was just his personality and he acted like this with every girl he taught? your subconscious snickered at you, and you sighed, brushing the thought away.

across the room, jimin was practically grinning ear-to-ear, enjoying the show way too much as he led his cute, stumbly boyfriend through the motions without even looking at him.

"jagi, i'm supposed to be taking the lead part," yoongi grumbled, pulling jimin’s attention back to him with a light tug.

"sorry, my love. habit." jimin chuckled, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "okay, go ahead, six-seven-eight—"

yoongi shot him a playful glare before resuming the steps, his concentration back on the dance. meanwhile, jimin snuck another glance your way, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as jungkook’s hand slid a bit lower on your waist during the turn.

you could only roll your eyes at the blonde as jungkook’s deep chuckle echoed in your ear, clearly catching onto your friend’s antics.

“focus, y/n,” jungkook murmured lowly as he gently corrected your footing with his own. “we still have a few more turns to get through.”

okay, maybe he was flirting.

no. he was definitely flirting.

"shittttt!" you moaned into his pillow, your back arching as jungkook pounded into you from behind, his grip firm and still so fucking warm. each thrust sent a shock through your body, your gasps muffled by the fabric of his pillowcase.

"so bigggg," you whimpered, your words slurring as the pleasure consumed you. your fingers gripped the sheets tightly as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks, pulling you back onto him with every thrust.

his groan rumbled through the room as he watched your body respond, the fat of your ass rippling under his hands, the way your pussy tightened around him as he drove deeper.

"is it?" he teased, voice thick with condescension. you clenched harder around him at that, and he groaned again, his cock twitching inside you in approval.

"you can take it, can't you, baby?" his tone was low, mocking, completely sure of himself. his pace didn’t falter, each thrust angled perfectly, deeper. "such a quick learner, hm? did so well today, baby."

your breath came out in ragged gasps, completely overwhelmed as he kept fucking you senseless. you could only nod in response, whimpering as the hand gripping your right ass cheek slipped around your stomach, finding your clit with ease.

your legs started to wobble when his fingers rubbed against the puffy nub, a croaky yes slipping from your lips as you rutted back into him, desperate for more.

"fuck," he choked out, leaning down slightly to deepen the angle, hammering into you faster. "that's it, baby, fuck back onto my cock. just like that, babyyy, good girl. so good."

your eyes rolled back, briefly wondering if he’d figured out your praising kink, and a sobby moan slipped from your lips. you moved your hips harder, slamming your ass back against him with each thrust. the loud clap of skin echoed through the room every time you collided with his cock.

"shit, listen to that, y/n," he groaned, his skilled fingers sliding down your slit to gather your slick, grazing his cock as he shoved in and out of you before slipping back to your clit, rubbing it in big, messy circles.

"listen to that soaking pussy take my cock so well, baby. s'this what you wanted? you looked kinda sad when you walked into my class today, baby… didn't like it. not sad anymore, are you, hm?"

"no," you whined immediately, your head lifting from the pillow and throwing back in pleasure. "no fucking way. s-so good, baby. i n-needed this," you stuttered through a gasp, groaning in delight when the last hand on your ass slid up to grip your neck.

"you okay with th—"

"yes," you sobbed, lifting a shaky hand to clench around his, applying pressure. "harder. please, fuck, harder."

you heard him give a shaky breath before tightening his grip on your neck. your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he pulled back and slammed in harder, harder, harder. each time his cock drove in, it slammed into that spongy spot that pulled a high-pitched uh from your throat.

"goddd, dirty fucking girl," jungkook mumbled lowly in delight, leaning his head down to rest his lips against your forehead while your face was turned toward the ceiling, eyes closed in pleasure. "wish i wasn’t wearing this fucking condom. wish i could fill this tight little cunt with my load, know you’d take it so fucking well."

your jaw slackened, a silent scream escaping your lips at his words and the way he quickened his pace, both with his cock and his fingers rubbing your clit.

"fuuuck, i’m so close, jungkook," you forced your eyes to open, looking up at his sweaty, gorgeous face, the feeling of his big hand squeezing around your throat making it hard to concentrate. "oh my fuckkkk, please, i—"

"go on then," jungkook murmured lowly, giving a final squeeze to your throat before sliding his hand to your jaw, swiping his wet, tattooed thumb along your pouty bottom lip. "come on my cock, baby. you deserve it, honey. come on."

you didn’t know if he knew that jimin and hobi had given you the nickname 'honey' from your childhood.

and you also didn’t know why that nickname made a scream rip from your lips and your pussy clench around his fat cock until you were coming so hard you swear you could taste the color white. but it did.

"oh, fuckkk," jungkook hissed as he held you tight, his thrusts not relenting while you convulsed and came on his cock. "that’s itttt. take it all, baby. good fucking girl."

your body was trembling, completely fucking spent, arms barely holding you up as your fingers dug into the mattress. you were gasping for air, feeling yourself melting into the bed, and yet, all you could think about was him. “are you close? please, i fucking need it,” you whimpered, voice breathy and weak.

he groaned, hands slipping down from your waist to slide under your chest and cup your tits with a firm grip. he gave them a squeeze, rolling the soft fatty flesh in his palms before tugging gently at your nipples. the sensation shot through your body, making you shake, everything inside you clenching around his cock as he grunted in satisfaction.

“fuck, yeah, i- ” he panted, leaning down to rest his head in the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. his thrusts grew sloppy, rougher, causing your warm, sensitive body to jiggle beneath him. "i'm gonna come, baby. fuck."

“p-please." you grunted as he gave a particularly hard thrust, "wanna feel it, jungkook. want it in me. please."

he choked on a long moan, wet lips pressing to your neck, and with a few more deep thrusts, you felt him tense up. his grip on your chest tightened as he came with a low groan, his warm seed filling the condom.

you groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of him spilling into you, even through the stupid barrier. his body pressed down into yours as he panted, riding out his high, and you were still fucking shaking, so insanely satisfied.

as you both came down, your breath heavy and loud, jungkook began to slowly pull out of you, careful not to hurt you. you whimpered softly at the loss, already missing the feeling of being full of him the moment he slipped out.

a part of you couldn’t help but wonder… was that it? now you both just go back to your lives as if nothing happened? you didn’t even remember how you ended up in this situation, other than the fact that his intense, dazy eyes kept lingering on you the whole class. you had let jimin and yoongi head off without you when it finished, claiming you were going to talk to jungkook. you could still hear jimin giggling in delight as he dragged his boyfriend down the corridor.

jungkook had told you he was twenty-nine when you were chatting earlier, and in return, you had told him you were twenty-two. he didn’t seem to have a problem with the age gap, and of course, you didn’t either. still, a small part of you wondered if he’d even want to see someone as much younger as you again—if even just as a casual hookup. you pouted slightly at the thought. you suppresssed a groan, already knowing you’d be thinking about the best dick of your life for days after this.

you were pulled from your thoughts when jungkook sat up slightly, his face looking almost… shy? he cleared his throat before speaking. “are you gonna, uh, come to next week’s salsa class?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though you could hear the hint of hope in his voice.

you glanced up at him, his adorable, pouty face staring back at you, waiting for your response. a small, teasing smile tugged at your lips. “mmm… i don’t think so,” you teased, watching as his face fell slightly.

he nodded softly, trying to hide his disappointment. “i’ll be back in a second to clean you up,” he muttered, moving to get up.

but before he could, you reached up and pulled him back down, your lips pressing firmly against his. he froze for a second, clearly caught off guard, but then he melted into you, his hands slipping up to tangle in your hair.

as you pulled back from the kiss, your lips barely grazing his, you mumbled, “do i have to take the class to see you? i fucking hate salsa dancing.”

jungkook laughed softly, his breath warm against your skin. “i also teach hip hop?” he offered, amusement coloring his voice.

your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped you. “huh,” you squinted playfully up at his cute, annoyingly gorgeous face. “i’ll think about it.”

[gaywineauntsstuff]

saw someone said dick should apologize to jason in the comics for having putting him in arkham

i am sorry i think the f*ck not 😭 like i love jason as much as the next guy dmw but come on guys

“Jason was in Arkham”

“Dick wanted to put Tim in Arkham”

I sincerely apologize to my whump friends but I fear yall don’t know Jason Todd’s game

First let’s not talk about the fact the only person Dick put in Arkham who was miserable was himself. We aren’t gonna talk about it. Or the Arkham reform thing he was doing a the time or the other 600 things that were going on

Hell I won’t even talk about what Jason did in blackgate (WHWRE HE WAS INITIALLY) b4 he killed a hundred people to end up in Arkham we don’t need to talk about it

I won’t talk about the menace that is the hottest version of red head Jason Todd okay we have, as a society moved past that.

But genuinely for a second can you imagine that conversation

Dick guilt ridden: Jason, I- I owe and apology

Jason cleaning his crowbar: ….

Dick: I never should’ve put you in Arkham I’m so sorry being near the joker-

Jason: was literally part of the whole plan? Why the hell do you think I TRIED to get into it

Dick: exactly! I shouldn’t have indulged your worst impulses, fuck I should’ve brought you home or kept you with a league member

Jason: I would’ve killed Tim and kidnapped Damian to use as a barter tool with Ra’s Al Ghul. You know this. I need you to tell me that you know this

Dick: fuck Jay you were nineteen! That’s basically a fucking child

Jason: I’m so sorry weren’t you ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED AT 19? Didn’t you run the league for a couple months at 18? Do you think you could do more than I could at 19 dickface.

Dick: No Jason you don’t understand-

Jason: oh perfect Grayson just because I chose to become a crime lord and YOU decided to do the cringe fail hero gig. Which was really. Cringe and fail since it’s so obvious you either wanted to be dead or a supervillain

Dick: wha-that’s not true!

Jason: sure sure go say hi to Donna Troy’s grave for me

Dick:…..

Jason: ANYWAY just because I spent my teenage years outside of spandex building a criminal empire DOESNT MAKE IT LESS IMPRESSIVE THAN YOUR STUPID TITANS GROUP R I C H A R D

Dick quietly: I’mstillsorry

Jason: well im not sorry for the fact i strung you and damain up nude to reveal your identities, im also not sorry for stealing your suit and killing people in it, while we’re on that topic im also not sorry for STEALING BRUCES SUIT, im not sorry for beating tim up that shit was funny as fuck and I’m also not sorry for laughing when bludhaven blew up.

Dick: ….

Jason: so shut your fucking ass up talking about ‘oh I’m so sorry Jason’ like we didn’t spend the past decade trying to ruin each others lives

Dick: I NEVER TRIED TO RUIN YOUR LIFE

Jason: MY LIFES DREAM WAS MURDER ERGO YOU NOT LETTING ME DO THAT RUINED IT.

Jason: we WERE assholes to each other past tense and I will 100% be taking advantage of your raging guilt complex to pretend those things are equivalent to each other and now that we are all happy family bygones will be bygones whatever I can fully abuse you to get out of league level shit.

Jason: anyway what are you gonna do next? apologize to Tim for Red Robin

Dick guiltily: he’s the next stop

Jason: omg your actually doing an apology tour

Dick: I FEEL BAD OKAY

Jason: dude you know what I’ll indulge you, go try and apologize to Tim but when he LAUGHS you out of the room for being a fucking dumbass I’ll be there with popcorn

Dick grumbling: Steph accepted my apology to HER

Jason: yeah because everyone in this family was a dick to Steph and she deserved better.

Dick: yeah she was a phenomenal batgirl i wish we worked together more now that she’s spoiler

Jason: did she really hit Tim in the face with a brick

Dick: yep

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

wildest dreams - m. murdock

a/n: i have literally not been inspired for two weeks then i was STRUCK with the urge to write this. guys. i am so proud of this one i am not even going to lie. this one is dedicated to @bunmurdock because i am literally always thinking about professor murdock.... i really hope you guys enjoy this one, because i enjoyed writing it :) warnings: SMUT! inappropriate dynamic, P in V smut, so much cursing, lots of inappropriate thoughts and pining, power dynamics, dirty talk, reader does an edible and is high for a small part of this fic, reader isn't stupid in this one! she is just horny! she is also deaf, and there is yapping of readers daddy issues word count: 6.3k likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 summary: you have a huge crush on your professor and spend many days desperate for him. pairing: professor!matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: wildest dreams - taylor swift (taylor's version) "i said, "no one has to know what we do"/his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

You could treat him better than any of these other horny grad students.

Seriously, that is your only conscious thought watching this man move around the front of this lecture center. You’re not dumb, you know everyone sitting here wants him—Those who are attracted to men want to fuck him and those who aren’t seek his approval. But you are built different, you’re also lacking a major sense, besides, your brain runs ramped with disgusting thoughts about the man.

Today’s focus is on the man’s outfit. It’s his last class of the day, and it shows. His clothes are a bit more wrinkled, and his hair is messier than it had been when he started the day. But most importantly, his jacket is thrown on the back of his chair, meaning you have a phenomenal view of his torso.

He wears a white button down, with the cuffs of the arms rolled up to just below his elbows, the bottom of the shirt tucked into the waistline of his pants. The shirt is tight, maybe a little too tight, especially around the arms. Maybe it’s because he works out. Or at least, you assume he works out.

That brings us to his tie. Oh, his tie. It’s nothing special—a pure black tie, just hanging from his neck. Your mind wanders. It starts at the dissection of a key court case in the subject of minimum wage, but from there, it starts drifting to his tie.

You think about the tie moving back and forth above you as he thrusts into you, brushing against your face, pulling on it to bring him closer. You think about that soft half chuckle he does, before he says something dirty like—

“Did you have something to add?” His voice right in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Fuck. You were not paying attention.

“Uh, No, Professor..” Your face is a deep red, embarrassed. You wish you could take off your hearing aids to stop listening to all the giggling from around you, from peers who are thrilled that Professor Murdock’s little (not-so) secret admirer got called out for her staring.

“Hm,” he taps the table in front of you, “Then I want you paying attention.” He says, before going back to his lecture. You could die right there. Everyone is laughing at you. He embarrassed you.

Okay, so you have no proof that he’s ever wanted you in the way that you’ve been so god damn desperate for him, but it’s still crushing that he’d single you out in that way. That maybe while you were increasingly needy for him, he found you fucking annoying, in such a way that he felt the need to embarrass you in front of your peers.

You want to melt—Melt into a puddle with just your boots and your hearing aids left behind so you never have to face him ever again. That’s why you’re so relieved when he dismisses class right on time (Well, right on time for him. He always ends class five minutes early to leave room for questions) and you quickly gather your things.

Because of the sheer level of embarrassment he has caused you, the other students in the class who want him try to flock to him, sensing that you no longer have the confidence to engage with him—But your desire is still there, as you messily shove your things into your backpack. You turn when you’re finished, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Your face is still flushed, part because you’re embarrassed, part because you are out of breath from rushing. But you are faced with the view of your professor, all alone. Your breath hitches when his hand moves up to the top of his tie, as he smooths it out, running his fingers down the fabric.

“I read your essay on the expectations of the courts and law versus the realities of it. I loved it. The argument using Gideon versus Wainwright to justify the existence of the right to counsel as a civil right and not a liberty was fascinating, especially considering your other arguments about how race, class and gender play into those realities. Well done. I thought it was some of your best work.”

Your face is flushed for a new reason now. Wasn’t this the same man who was mad at you for not paying attention?

“I thought so too.” You confess, and he just smiles. He loves that you’re confident in your work. You’ll make a great lawyer one day.

“Oh, and,” He digs through his leather satchel to pull out some notes, running his finger over the folder tab to make sure he has the right folder, “Here are the printed copy of our notes from the last few lectures.” It’s part of your accommodations that professors give you a copy.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smile gently, reaching out to take the papers. Your hands meet and as you grip the notes, the tips of your fingers just barely brush against his. Neither of you say anything. Neither of you let go.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He starts, “But you’re bright—Smarter than most of your professors, I bet. And I don’t want you to fall behind.” He says softly, and without saying it, you know he’s worried because of your hearing. He was disabled in law school once upon a time, and he recognizes your potential.

“It’s okay.” You say softly, softer than your voice usually is. “I get it, really. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He says gently, letting go of the papers now. As you clutch them close to your chest, his hand goes back up to mess with his tie again. Does he know what he’s doing? Does he know how wild it drives you? He must. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you on Thursday.” You agree, and that’s when you leave the classroom.

As the door closes behind you, he listens intently. He hears your nervous heartbeat, could practically feel the heat radiating off you. But he knows your routine by now. You’re about to start playing music, and he likes knowing what sort of mood you’re in as you leave his class.

A smile spreads across his face when he hears the opening notes of that new Hozier song, ‘Too Sweet’.

• • •

You are a straight A student. You study days in advance for exams, you write elaborate study guides and most of all, you do not miss class, unless you are dying (no, seriously, the last time you missed class you were rushed to the hospital, sick with pneumonia after a big exam, which you aced). So, when you’re not in Matt’s class on Thursday, he tries not to panic.

You’re a grown woman, he tells himself, and he doesn’t have an attendance policy, having told the class on syllabus day that he trusted them to know when to come to class and when they should go lay in the sun or stay home with a bad cold.

But you once came to class doped up on cold medicine with a mask on, just because you didn’t want to miss any important information. He heard it before you got to class, so he faked a family emergency to cancel class early that day. He could hear your rattled sigh of relief as the other students flooded out.

And he knows for a fact you didn’t show up today because of how fucking loud you are; You don’t mean to be, but he can hear the light buzzing of your hearing aids, and you wear these big work boots that stomp even when you’re trying to step lightly. And he heard neither buzzing nor stomps today.

Oh, your boots. He’s spent years with everything being too loud, but he just can’t help but think about the boots—What color were they? What were their texture? He has this fantasy that lives at the very back of his mind of putting you in heels, heels too big for anyone let alone a girl who only wears clunky work boots, that way he would have to help you, take care of you, and it is a fantasy that will probably live at the back of his mind until he dies.

Sure, he’d probably get married, settle down with someone his age and never worry if she might be dissatisfied with an older man, and she’ll be quiet. No hearing aids, no big boots. They’ll have kids, they’ll be happy together. He’ll still go to you when he can’t sleep, and no one will ever know.

Wait, what was he doing? Oh, right. You weren’t in class today.

His fingers move over the keyboard to look you up in the system. He clicks on the audio assistant to read him your information. It reads out your first and last name, middle initial, then your grade in his class (A+), your accommodations (Notes, time and a half, things like that), your birthday, and—

Wait, he takes a moment, and his fingers go over to his braille calendar, realizing that you’re taking a day off because it’s your birthday. A laugh escapes his lips, because how silly was he being?

His fingers move again to find your email address. He debates for a moment before adding the subject line, “Absence Today.” Then, he erases it and changes it to, “Class Today”, hoping you wouldn’t freak out before reading the email.

And just for a moment, he lets himself dream. He writes the following email to you,

“Hey, sweetheart—

Happy Birthday. I’m so happy you’re taking a break, you deserve it, more than anyone else I know. Are you doing something fun for it? Going out and getting wasted? Hooking up with some college guy who couldn’t fuck you properly?

If I could, my birthday gift to you would be a day spent with my face buried between your pretty thighs, although that might be a birthday gift to me and not to you. I’ve always been a selfish man, and you seem to be something I am entirely selfish about. I want your hands tangled in my hair, tugging on it as I taste you. I want you all to myself. I didn’t hear the buzzing of your hearing aids or the clunking of your boots, and I felt this striking yearning.

I can’t stand being around you without having you. It’s torture.

Happy Birthday,

Matthew.’

He thinks about it for a minute, before completely erasing the email, and sending you this one instead:

‘Missed you in class today! We went over the reading for Chapter Seven. Happy Birthday! Professor M’

He sends it, and then rubs his face, a long sigh leaving his lips. He is completely enamored by you, and it is so unfair.  You’d be in class on Monday, he told himself. He’d see you then, and it would be like getting his fix of you.

Then, he turns to the distraction of trying to grade papers. It won’t work. He’ll still have you on his mind all day, and there will be no relief in sleeping. Hopefully he’ll dream of that long day between your thighs.

• • •

Truth be told, you were not drinking and fucking some random guy when Matt emails you. You were cuddled up in bed, giggling and eating snacks, so many snacks, because, well, you took an edible with a bunch of your friends and now are high out of your mind.

Some animated shows are on in the background, and when your phone buzzes, you pick it up and almost melt when you see the email from your favorite professor. You start giggling like a kid, your fingers clutching your phone as you read the email over and over again.

One friend looks up to you from her place on your floor and asks, “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer at first, but then you nod, and pull your blanket close, imagining Matt’s arms around you. Your brain paints you a picture of him holding you against his chest and gently playing with your hair.

It’s a nice fantasy.

• • •

For being a law student, you really fucking hate it sometimes. Okay, that’s not true. You love being a law student and are so excited to go out into the world and make that difference. But you’d be lying if you don’t sort of contemplate dropping out and getting a sugar daddy over certain assignments.

Maybe Matt is in the market. Then you shake your head to get the thought out of there, before opening your laptop to check your professor’s office hours. The one that assigned this assignment is an old bat who does not have office hours except for during your other classes on Fridays.

Then, you look at Matt’s office hours. He has office hours right now. You click the pen in your hand a few times, thinking. Contemplating. Would he want to see you at this point? Would you be able to control yourself?

You give the question you’re working on one more time before you lean down and grab your boots, starting to lace them up. Then, you pack up your bag, heart beating nervously over what—Asking him for help with an assignment?

You make it all the way across campus, the whole time worried about if you’ll walk in on your professor with some other girl. You almost laugh at that thought, because you think you’re silly for how dramatic you are about the man.

You stand down the hallway from his office for a few minutes, just contemplating. You could just turn around and not at all open the possibility of being around him, and everything stays the same. Nothing changes, and your relationship with your professor maintains it’s strictly professional relationship.

You walk towards the door, knocking on it before holding your breath.

“Come on in,” He calls from behind the door. Now or never. You open the door, and smile in his direction.

“Hey, professor,” You greet, a soft smile on your face. His tie is loose around his neck. You blink away whatever daydream your brain wants to dive headfirst into.

“Hey,” He greets, “I don’t think you have any assignments due, so what’s up?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. As you think about it, you realize that you do not need help with an assignment.

“This is going to sound like a lie. But I had trouble with this assignment earlier, and suddenly I walked in here and realized I knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sorry for bothering you.” You explain, but you make no attempt to turn around and leave.

“Let me guess,” He starts, gauging by what year and academic proficiency you’re at, “Professor Reid’s estate planning class? That assignment about the will and testament of an old lady with a marriage less than 90 days and estranged kids?”

You groan and take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. He laughs in response, shaking his head.

“That old bat.” You roll your eyes. He just smiles and shakes his head.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to cheat on your final.” He tells you, and you give him a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Well, for the final, there’ll be a question about a super niche argument on inheritance. Just cheat on it.”

“You’re a professor, telling me to cheat?”

“I cheated on it,” He shrugs. You suddenly remember that he used to go to school here and has taken all the classes you’re struggling with right now.

“You’re being unprofessional.” You tell him, and he smiles again. Your heart skips a beat, and somehow, his smile grows. As if he knows exactly what sort of effect he has on you. As if this is all a game he likes to play with you, his eager and willing participant.

“Okay, forget that I told you to cheat on Reid’s exam. We have to talk about something, it would be awkward to just sit here in silence. Uh, what did you major in in undergrad?”

“English. I minored in Disability studies.”

“So why Law?” He asks curiously, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, before resting them on his desk. Jesus Christ.

“I’m tired of being poor.” The answer slips out before you can really stop yourself. He laughs again, and something in you stirs. As if making him laugh is the newest way you feel good about yourself. How twisted is that? “I’m being serious!” You laugh too, unable to contain it.

“I’m sure,” he promises, “I grew up poor too, I was sick of it too. But if you’re going to be a lawyer—”

“You need to have respect for the law and the people taken advantage by it,” You finish, “I get that, really, I do. And I want to help people. I want to go into divorce law and help all the poor and battered women like—” You’re forgetting yourself. You’re forgetting that this isn’t a date and that this man is your professor.

“Like..?” He prods you to finish, curious. He is on the edge of his seat about you. This is more than he has gotten of you in the past few weeks you’ve been taking his class.

“Like my mom.” You finish suddenly looking for something to do with your hands. Anything, really. “But the check that comes with it isn’t exactly deterring me, you know?”

“I get that,” he says earnestly, “I was an orphan, one of those dirty scrappy ones you feel bad for,” he does that half chuckle that makes you want to go over there and kiss him. “Never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was young. So, I get it. Being poor and wanting to do better for yourself. For your parent who sacrificed for you.”

But it clicks for him, the hidden meaning behind your ambitions. You have daddy issues, and he can tell that’s part of your crush on him. Though, he’ll never say it to you. He’ll let it be something unspoken between the two of you.

“Yeah, I guess you do get it.” You smile softly. But this is dangerous. So so dangerous. The two of you are dancing this dangerous line—Well, more like you’re damn well dancing clear over the line and ignoring it. But you don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you don’t want to stop it.

“Well, uh, maybe you could finish that assignment while we’re here.” He clears his throat, straightening his tie and you try to connect the wires in your brain to focus on the assignment. You pull it out of your bag and place it on his desk, smoothing it out a bit. Matt gets up and starts to wander around the office, and you look at him curiously. “I think better when I can move around.”

You should’ve known that much, you have stared at him doing lectures, wandering from end to end of the rows and rows in the classroom.

“Yeah, totally,” You nod, focusing on the assignment. It’s on paper, the old bat refuses to use online assignments. You’re practically flying through the assignment, and it’s at the point where you are forgetting your company. In fact, you really don’t notice him.. Until you lean back and stretch, jumping when you realize that Matt has taken a spot right behind you, his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward. You’re practically leant up against him.

“See? Was that so hard?” Your face flushes, his voice right next to your ear. He has to know; he has to know how you’re affecting him. You tilt your head a bit, and your eyes are level with his chin. His stubble moves as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t smell much like anything… except the faintest hint of clean sheets and this slight scent of mahogany. It would go perfect with a whiff of whiskey.

“No,” you say quietly, and he almost shudders at the feeling of your warm breath against his cheek. “Not at all, Prof—”

“Call me Matt.” It’s almost begging. You’re kind of into it, but that’s not surprising given how incredibly attractive you find him.

“Okay.” You say quietly. He has reduced you to one-word answers. The two of you stay quiet for a while. You’re unsure what to say. Matt is contemplating his options. Anyone could walk in on the two of you like this. The door isn’t locked, and you want to bring this up, but the words die out in your throat. His head tilts a bit towards you, and you get a glimpse at those perfect lips of his.

“You know—” He starts, but before he can get any farther, you lean in and kiss him. You kiss him intensely, your hand on his cheek, and for once, you are not filled with regret at a bad decision. He doesn’t react at first, and for just a second, you’re nervous.

Then, He kisses you back, letting out this deep hum as he deepens the kiss. He tilts his head to get deeper into your mouth, and his hands make their way down to your hips. He focuses for a second, before wrapping his arms around you to pick you up and sitting you on his desk.

His hands trail down as the pair of you kiss, landing on your thighs. His fingers rub back and forth, and you gasp when he squeezes your thighs. He grins and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your clunky boots hit against his desk and he practically growls at the sound. He pulls away, his teeth biting your bottom lip as he does.

You’re completely out of breath, and so is he. He stumbles back a bit, his lips swollen and bright pink from kissing you. He wipes his mouth as he pants, and inhales deeply. You run your fingers through your hair, brushing the hair that has fallen onto your face.

“We..” he mumbled gently, running his hand over his chin. “Holy shit, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid—”

“Listen,” he goes over to you and brushes the hair from your face, “That was.. it was phenomenal, but someone could’ve walked in on that, and.. Fuck, if we do that again, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” he confesses, his hands on your cheeks.

“When I was staring off into space last week, I was thinking about your tie.” You tell him, your hands are finding the base of it now. He tilts his head, curiously.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Was daydreaming about it brushing against my face as you fuck me.” You could swear his face is red. You grin.

“Yeah?” He laughs, taking the tie from you and bringing the tie up to brush against your cheeks, “Like that?” he teases, and you laugh back. Dick.

“Mhm,” You giggle, and your hands find his, wrangling the tie out of his hands, and tugging on it, before bringing him in for another kiss. He inhales deeply as he kisses you, taking the taste of you in for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, this is dangerous.”

“Sweetheart?” You grin. He takes your chin and grips it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey. Pay attention.” He says, and you want to argue that saying things in that low gravely tone will not help you pay attention, but you can tell he’s serious. That he wants your attention focused on him, this is important. “Listen. I like you. I like you a lot, but we have to be careful if we want any of this to go further. We have to be subtle and watch our steps.” He says softly.

“Okay.” You promise, “Okay, we should be careful.” He smiles gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Good pup.” He hums, and your face flushes.

“I like ‘pup’.” You like sweetheart too, but your stomach flips when he calls you pup.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He grins. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you said we have to be careful.”

“Okay, then I’ll give you my address and you can come over.” He shrugs. “I know how badly I need you, I can only imagine how you feel.” He hums, and you grin.

“Okay, Here, give me your phone.” Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. You put your number in with your name, sending yourself a quick text before handing the phone back to him. “There. Send it to me.” He steps back so you can hop off the desk, before putting your homework back in your bag.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder, he grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you close, just to kiss you again.

• • •

Your hands are shaking as you drive over to Matt’s apartment. You’re so full of desire for him, and you take a second after parking the car to adjust your hair and makeup. Luckily you had no plans with your friends so it’s not like you’re hiding anything from anyone.

Are you about to sleep with the professor you’ve had a crush on since the beginning of the semester? Hopefully. You take a quick glance down to the apartment number he sent you before climbing out of the car, locking it behind you.

Then, you manage your way through the building, finding yourself in front of his door for the second time tonight. You hesitate. Though, you’re not sure why. Well, maybe you do. Maybe you’re terrified that this is going to be bad. Or maybe that you’re scared you’ll be bad, and he’ll hate you.

Maybe you just need to get over yourself. Although, you can’t really do much more convincing because Matt swings open the door and grins at you. You almost die at the sight of him. His tie is gone, and his shirt is unbuttoned by three buttons.

“You’re so hot,” You blurt out as you hand him a cheap bottle of wine you picked up on the way here.

“You’re cute,” he hums, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the apartment, leaving you giggling as he closes the door behind you. You look around his apartment, your eyes catching on the giant billboard. You’re standing in front of the window when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips gently kiss your neck, up and down, biting your shoulder gently. “Enamored by the billboard, sweetheart?”

“Your windows are so big, probably a lot of light in here during the day.” You say softly, and he smiles against your neck.

“Mhm, one day, I’ll fuck you against those windows—”

“Matt,” You groan, but he just shushes you and kisses your neck again.

“I know, pup,” He hums, “But don’t worry, I’ll show you a very nice time, hear all those pretty noises you can make for me.” You blush, turning to say something to him but he wraps his arms around your waist again, before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to his room. You’re laughing all the way there, before throwing you onto the bed.

“Mean.” You accuse, but he shrugs.

“You’ll get over it, sweetheart, I promise.” He hums, and you sit up on his bed. He stands between your legs, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hands finding your cheeks again. He kisses you like this for a few minutes, before slowly kneeling in front of you, never breaking the increasingly sloppy kiss. You pull away from the kiss to study him. He tilts his head, his hands finding your thighs to rub them again as he did in the office. “What?” he asks gently.

“I spent all those lectures only being able to study you from a far.. Just let me really look at you for a while..” You request. He grins gently as your fingers run over his stubble again. Your hands move up to his glasses. “Can I take these off?” You request, tilting your head.

Matt hesitates, just for a second. He’s not really used to it, to someone truly wanting to see him, every part of him. But he trusts you, wants you to see him. So he nods, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ as you pull off those circular red glasses, gently folding them and setting them down somewhere safe.

Then, you take a good, long look at his eyes. They’re this deep brown, almost black, irises that are drop dead gorgeous. The skin around his eyes is scarred, but the scars are old, yet, you rub your thumb gently against that scarred skin. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his eyes, first the left one, then the right one.

He leans up and kisses you after that, his hands slowly making their way down your legs. Your hands find his buttons of his shirt starting to undo them. He pulls away from the kiss, before slipping off his button up, throwing it away somewhere in the room. Your eyes drift down to these scars on his collarbones, and your fingers run over them. Then, you notice other scars on his skin, and your hands find those too.

“Your boots are so loud,” he hums, and you’re taken back by it.

“What?”

“Your boots.” He hums, “I hear you stomping around with these things on, they’re.. Like a bell, you know? I like knowing you’re around.” His fingers go down to the laces of your left boot, slowly untying them. Then, he does the same with the right boot.

He pulls off your boots, before running his fingers over your socks.

“They’re multicolored. Bright and patterned.” You confess, and he grins, before pulling them off. Then, he stops, realizing you have another pair of socks on. He blinks, before starting to laugh.

“You have two pairs of socks on?” he chuckles, your face flushing.

“My boots are just a little too big!” You tell him, and he laughs, resting his head against your thigh. He finishes taking your socks off, before working on the buttons of your jeans. When he finally gets those undone, he pulls off your pants, throwing them somewhere close to his now abandoned shirt. His hand comes up to rub you through your panties, and he lets out a scoff as he does.

“So wet for me, pup..” He mumbles, coming up to gently kiss your cheeks and then your jaw, as you whine. “I know, baby, I know,” he says softly, rubbing your clit gently. You whine gently at the feeling, gripping his wrist. He chuckles softly, kissing you to shut you up a bit.

He pulls his hand away from your throbbing cunt to pull off your tee shirt, throwing it wherever. He starts to kiss you as you fiddle with the buttons of his pants and pull them off, letting him step out of the before he casts them away.

You grin into the kiss, before he pulls away.

“What? What’s got you so giddy, pup?” he asks, a grin on his face too.

“Briefs,” You hum, fiddling with the waistband of his briefs, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Thinking about your professor’s underwear?” He teases, leaning in to bite your neck. “Dirty, dirty girl.” He grins, and you swat at his shoulder, which causes him to laugh. He likes having fun with you, even if it’s not inherently sexual.

His hands come up to run gently over your skin, trailing from your hands up to your shoulders, and then all the way to your ears, where his fingers gently run over your hearing aids. It’s a nice gesture, really, but as soon as his fingers brush over your hearing aids, you immediately retract, the feedback shooting through your skull, uncomfortably.

“Ow—” You cringe, leaning your head back to try and get away from his fingers. He cringes, hearing the feedback, not as badly as you do but knowing it’s there and that you’re in pain pains him.

“I’m sorry,” he coos softly, his fingers moving down to cup your jaw. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I hadn’t realized—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” You hum, tilting your head to kiss his palm gently. “It happens, It’s why you should never touch them while I have them on.” You shrug. He leans down and kisses your stomach a bit, before going back to kiss you again, deepening the kiss a bit before roughly shoving you back on the bed. You giggle as he climbs on top of you, caging you in between his legs, as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. He kisses you with passion and need, and it drives you entirely too wild. As he pulls away, one hand comes up to grip your chin, before he leans down with his head against yours.

“Want me to fuck you, pretty thing?” He asks gently, his voice sweet as honey as he talks so obscenely to you. You whine, finally getting what you want after weeks and months of waiting. He just smiles and shakes his head, “No, no, puppy, you gotta say it to me.” He requests.

“Yes, I want you..” You groan, bucking your hips a bit at the thought of him finally fucking you.

“Want me to do what?” he asks, innocently.

“Want you to fuck me, please..” You request, and this finally seems to satisfy him. His hand comes down to unhook your bra, throwing it behind him with the rest of your clothes, before his lips begin to travel downwards, kissing down your jaw and neck, before he’s kissing the valley of your breasts, his hand going down to rub your clit again.

He groans against your skin at the feeling of your wetness soaking through your underwear and listening to your moans. His hands begin to work to take off your panties, and as soon as those are gone, your hands come up to his briefs, wanting them gone.

“Off, off, off—” You huff, and he laughs as he slips them off. Then, he reaches over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, but you grab his hand, shaking your head, “No, no—I’m on the pill, promise.”

“You sure?” He asks gently, and you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Sure.” You nod, and then you’re kissing him again, your hand going down to stroke his cock, and he gasps into the kiss, before chuckling. He pulls away to mutter out to you--

“Needy girl,” he purrs, before moving to kiss you again. As you’re kissing, he slips his cock into you, and you moan into the kiss, tensing at the feeling, “Relax for me, pup.. So fucking tight for me.” He groans, his hand coming down to swat your thigh. “Relax.” He tells you, his voice sterner this time.

You nod, trying to form a more conscious thought than the pure bliss you feel, your hands wrapping around his neck, scratching down his back a bit. He groans softly, as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He is using every ounce of self-control he has, resisting the urge to absolutely violate you.

But he’s trying to be gentle, be nice.

“Faster,” You gasp out, your fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He does that half chuckle, and it makes you whine as he begins to speed up.

“Beautiful little pup..” he says lowly, “Been staring at me.. Wanting your professor so badly these past few weeks, dirty little thing,” he hums, “Fuck, so.. fuck..” Your legs are beginning to shake the longer and harder he thrusts into you. “So fucking good for me..” You whine into his lips as they crash into yours, one hand going down to rub your clit gently, the stimulation too much for someone who hasn’t had sex this good, ever, but especially because you haven’t had sex at all in the past.. well, six or more months.

“Matty, ‘m..” You can barely get the words out as he fucks you harder,

“I know baby, come on, cum for me, pup,” he coos, his thrusts nor rubbing slowing down, maintaining his pace. Within a minute, you’re coming with loud moans into his ears, and he’s following suit shortly after, coming deep inside you.

But for the few minutes after the two of you finish, he continues his thrusting, relishing in the pretty moans and the sound of his deep thrusts into you. Eventually, he slows down, remaining deep inside of you. He pulls you close, kissing you deeply before flipping the pair of you over, and holding your legs close to stay buried deep inside of you.

For a few minutes, there are no words spoken, just deep, frantic pants and sweaty skin against each other.

“You know, that was as good as I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.” You pant, “Better, even..” He laughs and nods.

“Me too..” he kisses you softly. “Let me take you out somewhere.”

“I thought we had to be careful..”

“We’ll go away somewhere then. Just the two of us for the weekend. I need to be with you, I can’t get enough of you now that I’ve had a taste.. Besides, I haven’t even eaten you out. Now that, that is going to be fun.” He grins, and you swat his arm.

“Evil, mean man!” You gasp, and he just laughs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m sorry, pup, let me make it up to you,” he hums.

“How?”

“Calling you pup a few times, ordering Thai food and teaching you how to suck me off?”

“I know how to suck you off,” You scoff.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, leaning in to kiss him. Then, lips still against yours, he whispers, “Prove it, pretty puppy.”

[k-n0-x]

“First Time?” Nsfw Lucifer x Fem! Reader drabble

A/N: Hey everyone! Just a small nsfw post of lucifer x reader, I just wanted to have a quick break from ‘Something Stupid’ though dw, I’m still working on it! Just a quick snack for you all.

Enjoy <3

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Darling, are you 100 percent sure if you want to do this?” Lucifer faces in front of you, his lean torso shining in the moonlight rays that graces your mutual bedroom. 

You and the King of Hell have been courting each other for almost a year, and you love each other dearly. 

Sex wasn’t a top priority (or a priority) in your relationship , though you guys talked about it recently and now you feel like you are ready to take your relationship to the next level.

“I’m sure. I really want you to be my first,” 

“First time, eh? Well don’t worry, I’ll guide you all the way. And also, remember, if you want to stop, just tell me, no questions asked,” Lucifer puts his hands on either side of your face.

“Of course,” you lean in to kiss him and sit in his lap. He deepens the embrace as his hands run across your bare back, earning a shudder from you. 

“Ah- Fuck,” Lucifer moans in between breaths, and under you, you feel a certain thing erect from under you.Seems like you have a little guest to attend to.

 You teasingly grind against Lucifer’s hard cock.

“Ah- angel, oh god, ugh,” Lucifer’s pleas for more are shown through breathless words.

You gently shush your partner, and guide yourself to his pants. 

“May, I?” You circle your fingers near his groin, getting him to moan again.

“Oh yes, please do,” he grabs the nape of your neck while pulling down his pants.

His already hard cock is seeping with pre cum, glistening the angry red tip. 

You slowly get on, whimpering at the feeling of your clit adjusting to his dick. 

“That’s it, take your time darling~” Lucifer holds your hand encouragingly.

As you get used to it, you take a deep breath, slicked with sweat.

Lucifer kisses you again once more, moving himself with you, in rhythm, almost as one.

“Ahh~ Lucifer, hng-” your breathless pants fill the room with each hump, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“My sweet girl,” Lucifer kisses and bites your neck, leaving marks in the most visible places.

Your legs buckle and shake under all the rigorous motion. It was addicting; and so wonderful.

You look down at your king with a lustful gaze. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, disheveling it in the process.

“Ugh Luci~”  you whine, kissing him on the forehead, still swaying your hips on his cock.

Similar words of the sort were screamed by you, which was music to Lucifer’s ears.

Now, it’s so easy, like keys to a whole, your wet folds contracting and relaxing in a clockwork-like motion. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you look so beautiful,” Lucifer hungrily kisses you once more, his cock pumping in and out of you.

“Hh, darling, I’m about to-” Sweating, King Lucifer was about to reach his climax, though he is still relentless with derailing you, sounds of your moans and slaps of skin on skin together in tune.

“Hng- Luci, I think I’m also gonna~” Before you could finish your sentence, it was overrode by an orgasm that hits you like a wave, arching your back like a spider.

You both breathe heavily.

“That was-”

“Phenomenal,” Lucifer finishes and gives you a peck on the cheek.

“I hope you had a lovely first time. Hopefully this won’t be the last time I make you scream my name~” 

“Oh shut up,”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Word count: 574~

<Reblogs + comments appreciated!>

[satoruxx]

Omg I have an idea for the hybrid toji au

You know how animals hide when they are sick? I think it’s cause they are at their most weak state and become more obvious prey, anyway

What if reader becomes sick and Toji can obviously tell (even before they do) and just intently follows them everywhere so they don’t try to hide from him-

He can tell you’re trying to seem low maintenance but you’re so sick it’s kinda pitiful

wait nonnie that's so true i never thought of that !! toji would be so adamant about it too and you're just walking around like ???? you're so confused bc you don't understand why on earth he's following you around. you ask him what he's doing and he just pointedly looks away and mutters "nothing..." and you just shrug and move on.

but you bet that wolf is watching you like a hawk bc of course he understands your body better than you do. and then when you finally get sick?? good luck getting him away from you. you insist you can do things yourself and you don't wanna bother him but he just tells you to shut up and lay back down bc he'll do it for you.

(yes you do look really pitiful when you're all sniffly like that. just leave it to him. quit worrying about stupid shit.)

and then if it's the opposite?? oh boy. toji would NOT want to be near you when he's sick. he would literally hide away and you're desperately trying to help and take care of him and he's just like pls go away???? he does not like the idea of you being next to him while he's sick bc ...you're human?? which means you're already so weak?? so vulnerable????? yeah no get away.

(he also just does not like the idea of looking like a weak hybrid in front of you. something about being that vulnerable and you seeing him in that state that makes him so unbearably nervous.)

LMAO sorry for rambling nonnie this idea is very delicious i love in denial toji and him being a grumpy wolf just makes it so much better. the idea is phenomenal i shall see if i can include it in the real fic !!

[sunshine-theseus]

Pequeña | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: you make stupid decisions but you got your girl in the end.

Warning: fluff, horrible self-care, fainting

My parents and I moved from Spain to England when I was 5.

I was a quiet kid with no friends, who spent most of her time reading or listening to music. At seven years old my parents decided to sign me up for my local football kids club to try and get me to ‘open my wings’, their code for ‘stop being a fucking loner we value popularity over smarts’. I haven’t seen them in 8 years.

Turns out I was fucking great at football and by 12 I was in the Arsenal Football Academy. At 15 I was playing for their Women’s team in the WSL and was debuting for England’s national team. I spent most of that time on the bench of course, but by 17 I had a large ‘1’ on my back and was starting 90% of games at Arsenal. I didn’t have many friends though, especially when I knew most would either leave to bigger leagues or transfer teams. I preferred it though because that meant I had plenty of time between training and games to study and read and play music.

Another 6 years later and I’m playing for England in the Semi-finals of the 2023 World Cup against Australia. I wasn’t our main goalie, but Mary had gotten a concussion so that left me and like hell I would let us lose this close to the finals. I’d nearly managed to keep a clean sheet until Sam Kerr came running up from halfway, past Millie and chipped it behind me into the goal. Despite the goal, we won.

As I’m walking toward the girls, I tripped over something, or someone, sitting on the sidelines near the tunnel. One of the Aussie girls, clearly tired and upset, curled up to their goalkeeper. If there was one thing I could do, it was recognise a phenomenal goalkeeper when I see one, and Mackenzie Arnold was just that.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her as I pat her shoulder and copy the gesture for the girl next to her.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her play. Her footwork was incredible, and she was clearly underrated and underestimated, something Arsenal could benefit from.

“Wanna swap jerseys?” it comes out soft, I almost miss it as I turn away. When I turn back around, I expect to see Mac offering her’s, but instead I see the younger girl looking up at me questioningly and I smile. I’d already swapped with Mac in a friendly earlier this year, and I love collecting jerseys from different players.

“Fuck yeah.” and within seconds she has my jersey pulled over her head, and it hangs loosely, clearly a few too many sizes too big for her.

I then pull on her’s, for a moment fearful it would be too small, but I’m thankful for her clear preference for baggy clothes as it slips over my torso. Mackenzie beckons over their photographer, and I pose with the still nameless girl. She’s small in comparison to my 5’11 stature and I giggle at the difference before offering her a piggyback for a silly photo.

As she jumps up, I notice shocked stares of my teammates from the corner of my eye but shake it off as she wraps her arm around my neck as if to choke me.

“Has anyone told you how small you are?” I ask her as I drop her back to the ground.

“They don’t shut up about it.”

“I think I’ll call you Pequeña.” I chuckle at her confused look.

“It means small in Spanish.”

“What the fuck!? Fine I’m calling you fucking Giant or something.”

I don’t get her actual name that night, but I look it up when I get back to my hotel room, Lotte missing from the space.

Kyra Cooney-Cross. An unexpected star.

I watch one of her games instead of doing my uni work and fall asleep to one her interviews playing.

~~~~~

I don’t expect to see Kyra until whatever friendly we have with Australia before the Olympics. In the time after the World Cup and before pre-season, I’ve hung her jersey in my hallway, along with all the others. I put her’s at the entrance with others like Mapi León and Christine Sinclair, people I consider special.

We also begin talking. A lot. I spend most of my spare time calling or texting her, but I don’t tell anyone.

The shock I get when the final minute of the pre-season transfer window approaches, and I get a notification from the Arsenal Women twitter account.

‘KYRA COONEY-CROSS IS A GUNNER✍️’

~~~~~

We’d been knocked out of the qualifiers for the Championship League and yet I walk into training on Monday with a slight spring in my step and excitement buzzing through me. I wave to all the staff and greet everyone, asking how the girls are when I walk into the locker room.

It’s Katie who asks.

“What the fuck is up with you Ms Dark and Broody?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I giggle.

She gives me and incredulous look before turning to the rest of the locker room who share similar expressions.

“W- wh- wh-” she continues to babble as Steph pulls her back to her cubby and pats her shoulder as a way of reassurance.

“You just… you’re never so smiley or talkative. At all. Like ever. Like in the past 8 years you’ve said maybe 100 words per season to me.” Lotte speaks up.

“Not true!”

“I’ve only seen you without a book off the pitch 13 times. I started counting after the 1st.” My jaw drops.

“She’s not wrong Y/n. You’re pretty reserved and stoic. Which there’s nothing wrong with! But it’s just odd to see you, well like this.” Manu points at me as if that’s explanation enough.

“Wow thanks gu-” I’m cut off by someone jumping on my back and screaming.

“BEANSTALK!” and I’m smiling all over again as I turn my head to see the young Australian I’ve been missing.

“PEQUEÑA!”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with your nerdy shit in person every day now.” She jumps off my back and moves to greet the other girls except for Steph and Caitlin who she obviously knows.

We don’t get much time to talk before Jonas calls us into the meeting room. He introduces all our new players like Kyra and Lessi and announces the return of Vivianne and Beth to our playing squad, before going over how we need to improve after our defeat in the Champions League.

“L/n, I know you just came 2nd in the World Cup but you cannot be slacking like you did in the game against Pairs. You’ve got to be doing more.” I don’t get to reply before he’s ushering us out onto the pitch.

I’m left in a sour mood the rest of training, once again avoiding everyone, including Kyra who seemingly found a close friend in Alessia. I had given my all in that game against Paris, but they were good, and I’d stayed up until 2am the night before completing one of my assignments for my uni degree, something Jonas had encouraged me to do.

I was more mad that he didn’t allow me to tell him why but either way, I’d decided I would be staying after training to practice until I couldn’t any longer. So I did. And I came in an hour early the next morning to get more training in. I continued to do this for a while, studying once I got home until I couldn’t keep my eyes open now that my usual study time was booked. Eventually the girls stopped inviting me for coffee or team bonding and Kyra stopped trying to talk.

We were playing against Man United when I began to sway side to side, and my eyes began to droop. I think Kyra noticed first while on the sideline, and whispered something to Katie as she passed by the bench, but nothing came of it until United got a corner. They didn’t even get to kick the ball before I crumpled to the ground beside a clueless Lotte and Katie Zelem.

I don’t feel myself get carried off the pitch or get transferred to an ambulance. I don’t think I recognise anything happening around me until hours later. The clock on the wall says 9:21 and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours, but then I notice the sun streaming through the curtains and realise the few might actually be a lot.

I then recognise the limp bodies spread across the room. The awfully sterile white room which is nothing like the warmth of my olive-green bedroom. I don’t think I’d been so slow to figure out what was going on in my life.

“Beanstalk! You’re awake!” I look to the small brunette who has been hunched over asleep next to me for god knows how long and smile.

“Hey pequeña.”

“You are so stupid!” Kyra slaps my arm and sends me a sharp glare.

“What the fuck is going on. You’ve been exhausted 24/7 and no one sees you outside of training.” I then decide to explain my rather stupid schedule and reasoning to her.

She stares blankly at me for a while.

“You are genuinely so fucking dumb. I was so worried about you.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Her eyes drop to her lap.

“Te amo.” I’m not sure she understands it but she smiles either way and leans in.

Just as our lips meet, Katie abruptly wakes up in her corner of the room and shrieks.

“What the fuck!” and we’re left to quickly pull away as she tries to wake everyone else up to tell them what she saw.

“Katie don’t be fucking ridiculous! They’re both sound asleep.” I hear Kim whisper shout, followed by more of Katie’s babbling about how we’re just pretending as they trail out of the room, assumedly getting coffee.

As the door clicks shut, I open one eye to glance around the now empty room. It seems everyone needed some coffee. Except a certain Australian, whose eyes also peak open.

“Kiss me.” And then her lips are on mine again.

~~~~~

I don’t play again until our game against Bristol for the Conti Cup. Jonas apologised for pushing me too hard but made it clear I was to properly rest before I get to do anything and makes Sarina Weigman promise not to play me during our international break.

Kyra also gets her first starting debut.

It’s a tough game, and in the 84th minute, Kyra drops to the ground. I nearly run to check on her, but she gets back up, and within another minute she gets subbed off for Vic.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, we win 3-1.

I meet Kyra in the middle of the field, pick her up and swing her around. Our first proper game playing together seems like an obvious thing to celebrate. And before I can think, I’m leaning down and kissing her, something I’m not sure if I’ll regret later.

She smiles that smile, brighter than the sun, and I melt.

“Te amo pequeña.”

[honeysmoonn]

GET HIM BACK! — luke castellan

content: enemies w benefits, mentions of sex, really short so part 2?????, unedited

a/n: based off of this post: )

You hated Luke.

Hate wasn’t even strong enough. Loathe. Despise. Detest. Regretted ever speaking with him in the first place.

He was too cocky, too stupid, too good at swordsmanship, too nice to the younger kids, too handsome… The list goes on.

Yet you often found yourself laid underneath his toned body with tangled limbs and hot breaths.

Even after almost being caught one to many times after leaving a black lace bra on the ground behind Aphrodites cabin, or the violet patches growing along your collarbone and neck, or the lipstick smudged on Luke’s face that was only known to be worn by one girl in camp. You.

But at least the two of you were fairly well at hiding the attraction you shared for each other. It was easy to hate him. And he played the part of the whipped yet cocky boy phenomenally.

It was just a part, you thought.

He was almost too good at excusing the Ares boy who offered to partner up with you during sparring, too good and giving him a tight smile, too good and not-so-subtly shoving shoulder with the boy, and always too good and making you feel like and idiot when you were pinned under his body, faces inches apart like you had been so many times before, only this time there was an audience.

“Get off me.” You seethed, squirming to no end. Luke’s hand were expertly pinned against your own. A stupid smile on his face. He was too pretty to also be nice.

He gave a small shrug. “I could,” A cocky look you knew all too well. “Or I could watch you squirm…” He whispered just quiet enough so the younger campers trying to learn from the two best counselors couldn’t hear. 

You kicked a leg up, trying your best to keep Luke’s strong gaze under your control. But the swordsman always seemed to be one step ahead of you, one hand reaching down and grabbing the inside of your lower thigh and holding it in place. “Cmon, don’t be like that.” his voice was still soft, the memory of the night before flooded your brain like a thunderstorm.

“I’m seriously, seriously, gonna kill you, Luke.” He laughed, which only caused you to bit the air just and inch from his nose. “Just wait until-“

“Until what? Until tonight?”

“Oh, Gods-“

“Campers!” Chirons powerful voice sounded through the training arena. a few of the younger kids jumped at the noise, other took a step closer to their older siblings. “Is there a problem here?” You took the moment where Luke broke eye contact as an opportunity to push him off of you, causing him to roll over before straightening himself out for Chiron.

“No, Sir, me and my friend here were just showing everyone some new moves.” He winced as you pinched the skin in his neck, not ignoring the way a greenish bruise was showing under his bright orange shirt. Your face suddenly got red, could everyone else see them too?

Luke’s hand flew back to grab your own, expertly disguising the move as an itchy neck. He held your hand in his own for a second, giving it a tight squeeze. You winced. He immediately let go.

“Well, in that case, I hope you’re actually teaching something.” Chiron answered with a narrow eye. The kids on the sidelines giggled to each other. You silently wished Luke hadn’t been so difficult and just let the Ares boy spar with you instead of causing a huge scene.

Luke, yet again, took her hand and dragged you forward. Side by side, you two looked like the golden couple of Camp Half-Blood. “Of course, always up to learning knew things, right?” he smiled at Chiron once, then you. Leaving only a wink to keep you company.

Later that day you found yourself in the mess hall, poking and prodding at the not so appealing food that sat on your tray. Your sibling sat herself beside you, telling her side of the incident at the area just hours before. “I saw the way Luke grabbed your hand, he’s so sly. Sly little fox… Cute, too. Definitely handsome…” she rambled, only stopping when she realized you were barely listening, focused on something, or rather someone else across the mess hall. “Oh… you dirty dog!” she exclaimed.

“What? What are you talking about?” You asked as you fixed your gaze back at your sister who was smiling the same was Luke did after proving you wrong.

She shoved your shoulder. “Be serious, you think he’s cute.”

Somehow, somehow, Luke found himself staring at you while Chris blabbered in next to him. Your eyes locked and you could practically feel your heart beat out of your chest. He raised an eyebrow, only smirking when he realized just exactly why you were looking at him. You could practically hear the sound of his cocky voice saying: “Ohh…” in your ear. While glaring at him, he took the opportunity to blow an endearing yet annoying kiss in your direction.

“Oh!” Your sister smacked your arm playfully. “Oh… I could definitely see this, I can see the vision…” She pondered as Luke laughed to himself after seeing you go red.

You were going to get him back.

[dailyravi]

this is gonna be a different kind of daily post, but i feel like it needs to be said.

i feel like 911 lone star is doing it better than og 911.

because if you remember when we first started out it was about the calls and not really about the characters. and as 911 grew it moved from less about the calls and more about the people. and as much as i love these characters, i’m getting sick of it ONLY ever being about the characters. i’m of 911 we get like 1 call and it’s only to further the character arc for the season or ep.

but if we look over at lone star, they have a perfect mix of call to character ratio. we get stupid calls like a lady w a harmonica stuck in her mouth that both progresses the episode story AND the characters.

and i also feel like lone star doesn’t give any 1 character more screen time or story than others. and ofc owen will always have a little more than a character like mateo or nancy. but that’s because owen is basically the main character. buck is not. buck has way more than a character like hen or chim. but buck is not the main character. og 911 doesn’t have a main character, yet buck gets treated like one.

i’m sorry i’m getting sick of the guy. buck does not need 47 new arcs in one season. and honestly i’m getting sick of the same thing over and over. hen does not need all her problems based around her kids. Maddie doesn’t need to cry for the 100th time. eddie has been like this since season 2. and how many more time can Athena and bobby save the day together.

lone star is giving us new and fresh things every season, mabye not that much with owen but at the same time i didn’t expect to be a horse girl this season. i wasn’t expecting the twist with campbell. i wasn’t expecting carlos’s dad to die last season. i get actually shocked by some of the reveals. but with regular 911 i can call it. i can tell what the hell is going to happen. recently the only thing to shock me, is the eddie story line from the end of last season.

and ik this post is long but i need to say it. 911, even if they don’t mean to, prioritizes white characters. like kenneth chois acting is phenomenal, yet oliver stark is prioritized. and i’m not saying that oliver stark is a bad actor, he is the furthest thing from bad. but kenneths acting in there goes the groom and aisha’s acting in hero complex (where they get kidnapped) is better than what i’ve seen from stark.

ik this isn’t ravi related but i don’t really care, i wanted to say it.

[callmearcturus]

/gently lays a blanket over the ted lasso fandom's head. Okay everyone. I am a survivor of the Homestuck Epilogues. I have been in a fandom actively when a new, unexpected update to the canon absolutely decimates the fanbase.

If you are nervous about TL S4:

The absolute worst that could happen is the show is being explicitly brought back to air just to punish the fans of the show and to shame them for ever caring about the show in the first place because you must be stupid for ever caring.

Because that's what happened with Homestuck. And call me an optimist but I don't think Apple TV would give money on the basis of "we want to alienate the people who loved the show for three seasons."

With that struck out, I think the next worst case scenario is that... it sucks. But there will always be a clean delineation between the show you love and the one that is just okay or outright sucks. You'll always have that sandbox to play with. Heck, if S4 really sucks, "Non-Compliant With Season Four" will be a canonical tag, I promise. There may even be a surge of very talented people inspired to write their own version. It'll be great.

If you're super hyped for S4:

You may already have all this in mind. If so, this isn't directed at you, per se.

But with S4 coming, it's important to keep two things in mind, imo.

One: The cast and crew will, by necessity, change. This isn't just a matter of what actors are available to play the characters you like but also the creative minds behind the show may have a different composition. Heck, Brett Goldstein, who seems to be a phenomenal episode writer, is working on another Apple TV show, Shrinking. I sure fucking hope they get him back, but it's impossible to know who will be brought in and how those necessary shifts will affect the tone of the show.

Two: My ultimate dream is Ted sues Michelle for custody of Henry, moves back to London, has a 9-episode arc of making things up to Rebecca because she begged him to stay and he still left, reconcilation between the two of them, and then Ted keeps getting tongue-tied around Trent Crimm and has a very very belated revelation that he's actually a heavily repressed homosexual.

I'm not gonna get that because for the show to come back after such an extended ending, there has to be a very strong urge to revive it. And the cast and crews' reasons for bringing it back are not going to be all that. It ppprobably isn't gonna be any of that. And it's probably not going to be what you personally are pulling for.

The unifying factor here is:

It might be fun! It might be even better than the first three seasons. It might also be clearly the worst season. If people go in knowing that, I think we'll avoid any broken hearts.

Rest assured in the knowledge that: No matter what happens, good or bad, "Rainbow" is still going to be the greatest episode of the show, and they can't ruin that.

[adricthemindnimon]

Ok seriously, Triangle is one of my all time favourite episodes of anything. It is a delirious fever dream in all the best ways.

The sheer insanity of the plot

Their absolute refusal to even try to create a plausible explanation for the plot. Just straight up "yeah there's no possible way this actually happened but also he has the black eye so it definitely did. You figure it out".

Mulder thoroughly enjoying having no idea what's going on

The excellent musical choices

The phenomenal camera framing/those wonderful split screens/wipes. The moment where the two Scullys pass one another and move from one frame to the other gives me chills.

Scully in That Dress with That Hair looking That Gorgeous

Alt-Scully being an OSS agent

Alt-Scully and Mulder immediately becoming best frenemies.

The kiss. And the punch (no weak ass slap, a whole hearted punch that hurts her hand), and his stupid little "I was expecting a left"

The way the second he's safe in hospital she's roasting the daylights out of him

His confession of love which is the single most honest moment in ages

Her "oh brother"

But most of all I adore how this episode makes everything so heightened. And I love that that's not limited to whatever world Mulder's inhabiting on the Queen Anne. I love that they let Scully be just as elevated. And that that takes the form of her losing every single one of her inhibitions. We all knew Scully was a feral little gremlin under the veneer of civilization and the iron grip she maintains on her self-control at all times. It's so damn satisfying watching the inner gremlin running the show. Threatening to murder Spender. Kissing Skinner. Power walking through every hall and fidgeting so aggressively she whacks someone and talking so fast your ears can barely keep up. The woman is so constantly stressed trying to be the acceptable face of the operation, it's a never ending thrill to watch her go truly uninhibitedly feral

[s0diepop]

this is such a stupid post but i finished watching poppy playtime chap 4 and i have critiques to make. rest assured i sat there like "HOLY SHIT THIS IS EPIC" the entire time but im still allowed to think critically about it. line break given for anyone who Does Not Care /lh

disappointed by the lack of utilisation of the antagonists. feels like they forgot the promo material they were putting out? having yarnaby be the stealth section felt odd to me when, considering his design, it may have been a better use of him to be a fakeout ally. to have him and his stupid face earn the trust of the player and have him oh so helpfully guide you through sections only to dump you right where the doctor wants you. rather than right out the gate go "THIS THING'S GONNA KILL YOU. AVOID HIM FOR 40 MINUTES (IF HE SPAWNS AT ALL)".

im also SOOOOO sad that baba wasn't used more. baba's trailer led me to believe they were a stealth-based "hiding in plain sight" kind of stalker, hunting down the other animals to survive. imagine if baba had been better used during the bit where you walk through piles and piles of dead critters. if things started moving and items were conveniently placed to lure you towards them. i also think baba should have been a RECURRING threat that lurked around the various entrances to safe haven, and something that you'd have to leave traps to defeat. not just..... hey run in circles for a while as this screaming sheep swings for your ankles.

im not even gonna talk abt how lacklustre the doctor was im so sorry. phenomenal voice acting and promo material only to have his boss fight end so so so soon. devastating. a failed tumblr sexyman. why not really use his power? his sense of control? FORCE the player to kill, don't give them a ceiling out. make him close and open doors as he wants, make him control the path you take and force you to see his ways, making the player EARN the right to confront him rather than "ah fuck fine. you can come see me now i guess." also the robot army should've been a constant throughout the chapter. they should've been left everywhere, "deactivated". you should have felt his presence constantly. look how i said im not gonna talk about it and then i talked about it thats how upset i am /j

ollie reveal was good but we all knew he was evil. prototype is definitely elliot ludwig.

also. doey..... i see what they were going for. could've been executed better. video tapes still made me tear up and the final design literally made me pause. banger just needed tweaks.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

any thoughts for nightwing #124 ?

HI YES HELLO!

Absolutely

I have A L L

the thoughts

So, first of all let me say, I did not enjoy this issue as much as I’ve enjoyed the rest of the content Mr watters has provided us. But I think that’s more based on my prior expectations and hopes rather than the writing style.

So if yall are alright with spoilers please read on but there will be comic panels

“I’m a universal donor” ofc you are you stupid, stupid man. Oh my god.

(Also Bruce and Dick both being universal donors who can give to everyone but only take from each other. Chef’s kiss no notes)

And speaking of a Wayne. Let’s get into an annoyance of mine

THEY GAVE DICK AN ANIMAL LOVING CHILD WITH A TRAGIC BACKSTORY AND A PREFERENCE FOR NIGHTWING. THEY GAVE DICK A ROBIN.

Which,

Fine you know what

Dick treats em better than Bruce ever has, if he had just adopted Jason like he wanted too then the kid never would’ve gotten crowbarred

But be so fucking for real with me

You’re giving Dick Grayson

A fucking Damian Wayne stand it, you just speed ran Damian’s whole arc of not trusting/resenting Dick for not getting it (tm) all the way to ‘this is my trusted adult’ in 3 issues???

Like?

At that point??

Why NOT JUST GET DAMIAN OUT THERE? Like the Kid is obviously not working well with Bruce in detective comics? And like with the whole medical student storyline going on?? It would be really really nice to see that old Batman, Robin dynamic with a Damian who is now paranoid Dicks heart is gonna give out.

And to make matters worse??? They named him B R Y C e

Like??? Is this Bruce Wayne in a trench coat??? Ffs he even had Damian’s baby spikes???

Anyway I actually really like Bryce but it lowkey just reminded me on a dynamic I really miss and have NOT SEEN IN SO LONG.

And like I get it alright? I was one of the people clamoring to stop having the league/titans/bats coming and saving Dicks ass bc I wanna see him do cool things.

Fine okay

But Dick and Damian would WORK SO WELL TOGETHER AS A TEMP THING. Damian is lost, helps dick in haven, has a crisis and realizes something something whatever you want. Dick tells him a story from the circus/the Nightwing story/ the story of him becoming Nightwing. Damian leaves determined to forge a new path. COME ON GIVE THE SIBLINGS TO MEE

Anyway moving on bc this hurts me

Onto more things that hurt me

see this is what I love about DComics, bc like? All of us here in fandom town?

Have read like 20k fics where dick had developed a severe fear of suffocating, cramped spaces etc. bc of that time in the murder machine where Luthor stops his heart.

Like we REMEMBER how fucked up Dick should’ve been by those events

Now it would be great if DICK COULD REMEMBER THAT

But no, he’ll stop his heart on the off chance he can save 1 person bc ofc he would? And naturally he doesn’t mind being unconscious and vulnerable near irradiated corpses. What would actively losing blood near a radiation site? Probably nothing?

You stupid stupid man

I’m in love with you

Quick break for the villain being sick and also? MR SOY?? THAT FUCKING IMAGE OF THE CIRCUS ENROACHING ON YHE CITY!?? The difference between the decrepit gray madness and the bright city?? Phenomenal 10/10 no notes thank you

Hmmm idk Melinda? Maybe? Remember

A) your brothers been doing this since he was 8

B) he is one of the worlds greatest detectives

C) he’s run the justice league, teen titans, titans, outsiders and about 30 other iterations of teams? Maybe trust him on this? As someone with more experience?

D) since he’s been famously beloved and knows what he’s doing and you’re going up for reelection

…or you could pretend to know more than your highly trained, genius brother with about two decades of information, training and experience. That makes sense?

It’s not like he’s been going around fighting murderers in his free time while being the second most intense believer in Batman’s ‘we must let the people decide, we can’t be judge, jury and executioner’ rants. Nah

Pshhhaawwww that’s dumb and won’t ever come back to bite you in the ass

NoooOoOooOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO reallly!?!this was an unforeseen and shocking event.

Like normally this scene is satisfying? Ya know? A ‘oh look main character finally gets proven right ‘

But here it’s fucking annoying bc guess what?

Dixons run and the sum total of titans runs are canon here! Dick leading the league x2 is canon right now? And more or less common information.

Dick is an individual where it makes sense to take his word at face value like? This is the ear Superman goes to, the dude Batman bounces plans off of. The leagues final stand leader?

Not trusting him? Even in the context of the world doesn’t make sense?? Especially since chemo is now canon (aka Dick Grayson running through an irradiated city trying to save anyone while slowly dying until Clark drags him out) like?? You know he’s smart? You know he’s skilled, you know he’s usually right?? And most importantly?? You know he’d rather burn himself alive than be the reason for a death. Nono not just that? He’d run through radiation on the OFF chance he might see someone still alive enough that they might make out. 99 to 1 odds and he’s game.

Just flat out ignoring the guy? Makes the character seem arrogant rather than overly cautious and not good with trust. Like you believe YOU? A civilian, knows more about the underworld? The dude with the redhood on speed dial?

You understand more about this situation than one of the world’s smartest people? Okay…sure

Like I get you met him post lobotomy and he’s only recently regained his faculties BAs come on???

I have no evidence for this but I am 100% calling this a Sitka/Eleanor reference and everyone who disagrees can go choke

And finally

Love this image

So so so much

And that’s literally all of my thoughts!

Final comment:

I love him the stupid idiot loser please don’t Die Dick I love you

[neptunescore]

WIP WORD GAME!!!

(Honestly, I was tagged a while ago and just forgot abt it, so here you all go now T-T)

Since I've been tagged twice (thank you @speciallivery and @brushedbymelancholy <33), I'll be doing the first 3 letters of both the words given to me!! HOICK and RODEO

H

He clenches his hands into fists, “Christian?” he says instead, like a dog asking its master for instructions, tongue lolling out as it pants and whines, “you need something?” “No, no,” the man chuckles, shooing away the question as if Yuki was stupid to ask it at all, “just, hmm, this race wasn't the best, hn? The VCARB sure looks like it's got a lot of problems—what with your whole front wing ripping off.” He laughs after, as though it's funny. Yuki's car crumpling in on itself mid-race for no apparent reason, is something Christian finds funny.

O

Oscar's knuckles ache. His ribs sting with every heaving breath he takes, his nose won't stop bleeding, and he already knows he’ll have a horrendous black eye tomorrow, but— God, do his knuckles ache. His knees hit the ground, body sagging in relief as the roaring crowd around him slowly starts to disperse, forgotten glasses getting refilled again—chattering voices now replacing drunken cheers as the audience waits for the next fight. Oscar leans against the ring post, head dropping back against the stiff padding as he stares up into the shoddy lights right above him—chapped lips pursing together as the rapid rise and fall of his chest slows down.

I

“...I am still not too sure, but this place looked really nice,” Carlos is saying, “and it is just five minutes away from the track! Added bonus, no?” “What.” Carlos pauses, his smile drooping slightly (Alex is going to kill himself. He made Carlos sad—or like. Less happy than before. But also, again, what.)

R

Red clouds her eyes as she marches forward, so much red where there should be blue. Charles is just a few steps ahead, hands moving around erratically as he talks with the marshal in front of him. She can’t quite make out what he’s saying — the padding of his helmet muffling his voice as he gestures about — not that she’s trying to anyway, no; the only thing she’s thinking about right now is the smooth of his skin, how it’d feel beneath her fists, what shades of blue she could colour it— what the fuck was wrong with him? What was he even thinking? First race of the season and he’s already pulling this shit.

O

Oh, Yuki thinks, this is another ‘we don't want you to leave because we still need your results, but we treat you horribly and will never promote you so you might, and this is us acting like we care about you so you don't’ speech. Yuki is so fucking tired of this speech, “ah, yes, ofcourse, but see, um, my flight—it is going to leave soon and–” “Your pre-season testing results were quite phenomenal, really looked like the Red Bull was suiting you,” Christian says suddenly.

D

(I have literally no sentences starting with D for some reason, but here have this marcania... au I'm cooking up) ( @motomamithings you may have forgotten, but I've had your idea screenshotted for ages. I may just write something)

He’s sure of it—has done all the necessary investigations (i.e. door always locked, no unfamiliar belongings littering their would-be shared space, shoe-rack at the entrance only ever occupied by Pecco’s miserable sneakers, kitchen never dirty with anything other than his own dishes—Pecco could go on, but you get the idea; he’s been very thorough) to reach the obvious conclusion; Gigi’s giving him a whole two-bedroom apartment for half the rent. Pecco’s hit the fucking jackpot.

And there you all have it!!! Literally 40% chance any of you will acc be seeing ANY of these works sometime soon (and you DEFFO wont be seeing the R one like ever), but if you want to chat more to me abt one of them, or are interested in any—feel free to drop by my inbox!!! <333

Also, I fear I won't be tagging anyone bc I am literally so late to this, and most of my booties who write have already done it T-T

(...Although. nefarious tag to @colapoint, @toxicrivalries, and @formulaocean bc I know the 3 of you are cooking something I'd love to see more of. Word is SOB (as I don't want you all to worry too much if your wips are not yet large enough for now... yes, that's what I went through leave me alone okay ;-;))

[utilitycaster]

🔥 about each member of the mighty nein (instead of sending you a million separate asks lol)

Fjord - this is actually the only character from all of Critical Role where if someone does not like that character I am immediately done with anything they have to say. Ashton and Vex are my favorites from C3 and C1 respectively but I get not being particularly into what they're doing even if I disagree, but like, if you don't like Fjord you either have no understanding of the idea of characters being defined by their settings and narratives and vice versa and therefore you have no media analysis statements worth hearing; or you made a snap judgement based on like 20 minutes of campaign 2.

Beau - I wish the circlet had gone to Veth; I liked Beau's arc a lot but she started as one of my favorites and was later surpassed by a number of other characters and I think it was in part because I liked her getting things the hard way and also doing more with the Cobalt Soul and Dairon than she ultimately ended up doing.

Caleb - I think I kind of covered it with my post about his trauma recently, namely, I think he's a fantastic character and Liam did a great job and also whenever someone acts like Caleb is objectively correct at all times or should have murdered everyone in the assembly it's a MASSIVE red flag.

Veth - weirdly unpopular in this fandom but I like her more as a halfling. Also, I actually think arcane trickster was a phenomenal fit for Sam mechanically even though he wants more spells and would love to see him do another 1/3rd or half caster.

Jester - I feel I've covered my main one repeatedly (people LOVED to talk about her agency and the second she kissed the wrong person she was suddenly a stupid baby girl who didn't know what was good for her) so I think my other one is that as with all of Laura's characters she is much more fun, especially early on, if you lean into the fact that she does say a lot of shit that makes people really uncomfortable or annoyed instead of trying to turn this into a SHE LOVES SO HARD AND NO ONE LISTENS because both can be true, your love can come out in ways that people are very annoyed by, this is how cats feel all the time actually, and so much of Jester's arc is figuring out how to share this love in a way that other people can appreciate without losing her own personality in the process.

Caduceus - I've also covered this a zillion times but I will say it again, Caduceus deflected so many attempts to check in with him and he does not want to like, fix Molaesmyr, he was not neglected, he was built out to be a character who was more of a low-key support guy and Taliesin did an incredible job with that.

Molly - honestly my unpopular opinion remains that I simply found him very well built and a great concept and also irritating as hell, and the Nein's response to him was valid but the fandom's post-death lionization was very tiresome. I'm genuinely not sure the party could have bonded the way they ultimately did if someone who was throwing around "enthrall" like that were still around.

Kingsley - now, while I don't mind if you dislike Kingsley, acting like Kingsley and Molly are the same character is actually equal to the not liking Fjord thing; that's an instant "this person's interpretations of media are so bad I am blocking so as to not accidentally see anything they have to say."

Yasha - I'm not sure I have any unpopular opinions? I do think she is at times underappreciated but I also think specifically she is, like Caleb, a victim of the terrible and weirdly common fandom idea that the only way to move on from abuse and horror is by killing everyone and everything that hurt you rather than rejecting violence and finding your own path and your own meaning.

Essek - sticking specifically to his role in the Nein, again, I love Essek and he is a member of the party and also he is an NPC and acting deeply offended that he doesn't get the same treatment in terms of comic books or merch or appearances in one-shots is very childish.

[bunnytalksf1]

McLaren are fastest. So why do they keep losing out?

The general consensus for the duration of the triple header (since Monaco, for some people, who aruged that Piastri's fastest sectors proved that he could have taken pole with an "ideal" lap). For the purposes of this post I'm going to count Barcelona as the first race they were fastest.

So, what unravelled them? For the most part, it's Norris. He just can't seem to shake up under pressure, and it's costing them results bigtime. He started on pole in Barcelona, and a stupid, overly defensive move that pushed Verstappen onto the grass cost him two places when George Russell jumped down the outside and kamikaze'd his way into the lead. This was Norris' fault, he drove desperately, and made a very difficult job for himself to catch up later in the race, and ultimately couldn't do it. The gap to Verstappen was still two seconds, in the end.

I don't want to stoop to the lows of the stuff I'm seeing online about Norris, but what I will say is this: he seems to really struggle under pressure. This isn't just when he's in a championship fight, it was making the difference in the stint of races last year where McLaren had a competitive car. Qatar, where Piastri won the sprint, Lando had issues with track limits. The inability to keep cool under pressure really affects him in quali, and he tends to underdeliver. He's not a Leclerc, or a Verstappen in quali, where they push and push. I can handle a mediocre qualifier. His racecraft is more than enough to make up for it, and his overtakes are usually smooth and calculated.

Then we go to Austria. Verstappen is making the difference this whole weekend and starts the sprint from pole, Norris from P2. The McLaren is faster and by lap five, Norris was brave and lunged down the inside, but he got worse traction. He came from very far back, and his acceleration out of the corner was sub-optimal, allowing Verstappen AND Piastri to collect him in the next corner where he also ran wide. And then after that he got stuck behind Piastri, who is typically slower in race trim, and Verstappen checked out, losing the win. I do think in the sprint it was less of a indicator of Norris' lack of quality and more so an indicator of the quality of the racers around him in PIA and VER.

Same order for the GP. Norris started P2. Honestly, I turned the race off as Verstappen checked out and my ferrari heart couldn't handle the race after charles' lap one contact (lol, if only i knew about today!!) and then my friend turned around and showed me the george russell graphic, so I didn't watch this live. Clumsy racing from both VER and NOR cost both of their races, VER moving under braking and NOR with divebombs that were never going to work or stick.

The issue for me in Austria is that the damage to Norris' car was manageable to go back out and fight for points, which he sorely needed. He made the call to retire, as far as I'm aware. If I'm correct, he did have to pit twice regardless though, so I'm not sure if that was an influence. The decision to DNF cost them valuable points (even if the max was only two or four, he should've gone back out) and extended Verstappen's lead.

Now we go to Silverstone.

Honestly. A brilliant race. You can argue that Norris and Piastri both underdelivered slightly in quali, but Mercedes were rapid, and Hamilton (at Silverstone, at least, lol) and GR are phenomenal qualifiers. P3 for Norris, P5 for Piastri (after they screwed him with timings on his last Q3 run).

Here's where I'm going to criticise McLaren. Both Lando and Oscar did a phenomenal job today. By the time it was time to pit for inters, Lando and Oscar were P1 and P2, after mistakes from both Mercedes drivers. They then pitted Lando for inters from the lead and left Oscar out, and he lost position to both Mercs, Verstappen and Sainz. Working up to the last stint on slicks, oscar managed to pull back past Sainz, but Norris led the race.

Hamilton pit first, and went to the soft, with twelve laps left to go. The McLaren pit wall had already put Piastri onto the mediums at this stage and the team had all the data, and a new set of mediums. They then asked Norris which tyre he thought was best, and went on a used soft to "cover Hamilton". This, as most of the pundits have already pointed out, was the wrong call, and probably lost McLaren the race win. Norris blamed himself in the post-race media, but it's much less a driver issue here than it has been in previous race weekends.

McLaren has a long standing issue where they seem to over-rely on driver feedback rather than the data that they collect, which is frustrating to look at. The internet at large can be incredibly cruel, and its trendy to hate on Norris right now. Whilst I don't like him, nor rate him as highly as I do LEC/VER/HAM, he's definitely earnt his place on this grid and he's got some very good racecraft. Onto my point: Sochi 21 was NOT HIS FAULT. Controversial opinion, I'm aware. But as a team, you don't trust your drivers, particularly when your driver is a 20-year-old under immense pressure for his first race win in F1. The team had the data, it shouldn't have been a discussion. Pit for inters, pit for wets. Yes, Norris' attitude was awful, but Verstappen is similar with his engineer, and I can't blame him when he wanted it that badly. The team needs to take unequivocal responsibilty for its strategy, and rely less on dialogue with their drivers. They don't have the data. And today was a prime example of that.

Norris would have won today on the mediums. Piastri also could've been in the hunt had they double-stacked. But this is a problem that has existed for a long time and needs to be changed fundementally: the team has the data. Make the strategy decisions, and let them drive. It doesn't always cause them problems, but neither driver is used to fighting at the front and they need their team to lean on. That's the point of a strategy department.

Although Andrea Stella acknowledged much of this, so hopefully the only way is up?