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#i'm sure this has been observed before
celluloidbroomcloset · 6 months
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I dunno, man, Stede made a unicorn boat with a secret gay closet no one knows about and then Ed shows up and Stede is like, "You wanna see my secret gay closet?" and Ed is like, "Yes, I wanna see your secret gay closet." Then Ed comes out tells Stede he's Blackbeard and they hide out from Izzy in the secret gay closet together.
And this all takes place in an episode about Stede being uncomfortable in his marriage.
The raging lack of subtlety in this show means that it's so easy to overlook how incredibly not subtle it is.
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liskantope · 5 months
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I've noticed for a long time that the name Obi-Wan Kenobi was clearly intended to sound Japanese (in the sense of sounding and being spelled like something coming out of Japanese phonology), it took all these further years for it to occur to me that this is pretty much true of all of the Old Republic Jedi (with some role in the prequel movies). Okay, the name Mace doesn't look or sound Japanese, but the Windu part does; the name Qui-Gon Jinn isn't spelled in a Roman-adaptation-of-Japanese way but sounds pretty close to Japanese; even Dooku can pass for Japanese I think (note that George Lucas pronounces it with a long O as I believe the Japanese would); and there's Ki-Adi-Mundi; and then... wait for it... Yoda passes for a Japanese name as well.
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Forgive me, a humble Scotswoman, for being so behind on my English history but I stared at Dundy's lovely Carnivale costume for too long, began some tentative digging, and found a few fun little parallels that might be of interest!
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Dundy's costume at Carnivale comprises the coat of arms of Edward III of England (1312-1377).
More specifically, said coat of arms originates from around 1337 when Edward declared himself the rightful heir to the throne of France, quartered the original Plantagenet heraldry of three lions with the French golden fleur-de-lis to signify that claim, and began the Hundred Years War.
Which is just lovely and makes perfect sense! Not the Hundred Years War part, but the idea that Dundy would be drawn to such a costume given that he himself possessed both French and English ancestry!
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Some other aspects of Edward III that I think are perhaps worth thinking about further:
He was noted for restoring royal authority following the unsuccessful reign of his father, Edward II. (A tenuous link perhaps but it puts me in mind of Dundy taking on additional authority for the men after the deaths of Franklin and Gore, and the drunken, chaotic rule of Crozier)
He would have seen a huge proportion of his subjects wiped out by the Black Death from around 1348 onwards. (I suspect it's probably a bit inappropriate to compare scurvy to The Literal Plague, but I'm going to do it anyway).
He launched a successful coup d'état, at the tender age of 17, against Roger Mortimer, his mother's lover who had previously been ruling as regent. ("There's been a vote, Edward..." anyone...?)
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Link
universe of constant spinning, every end a new beginning
“So, do you have an umbrella? That was like, your thing, right? At Claw?”
Ah—not again! He can’t keep zoning out while talking to people—especially his boss.
But… why was Reigen still here? It was late and he always got to work early. It wasn’t his job to stay and coddle his employees. “I—uh—no,” he stuttered, fingers twisting anxiously. “Mine was, uh, "is” broken, sir.”
‘Broken’ was a mild way to put it. More like it got destroyed.
[or, reigen gives serizawa an umbrella]
☔️2,651 words | serirei☔️
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agentravensong · 11 months
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revolutionary girl utena 🤝 rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead
using coffins as a metaphor for the thing the story's about
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yotd2009 · 5 months
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ok fr last one but there's actually a bootleg of my school's anastasia and i'm linking it bc you all NEED to understand that my infatuation with this one girl's voice which started when i was in the 6th grade and still hasn't really worn off isn't based on nothing
#brielle's the one in the n95 mask (the video is too grainy to actually make out any of the ensemble's faces but she stands out)#and i'm the in my 'teenage tboy's diy first short haircut' era in every scene she's in#apart from everything abt the girl who plays anya. the tea on everyone else is that our director liked the boy who played gleb's voice so#much that she actually lowered some if not all of his parts to be in his range. the guy who played vlad was a total diva and uhm. the phras#'peaked in high school' has been tossed around at him a lot. and the fact that he came back to sub the year after he graduated isn't helpin#his case. also he pressured the girl who played anya's grandmother into wearing old age makeup + spray her hair grey bc he decided he was#going to wear it and since she's supposed to be older than him she had to too and used to waltz into the girls' changing room whenever he#wanted. everyone was like super shocked during auditions though bc we all thought he was a shoe-in for dimitry esp since seniors get#priority casting bc it's their last chance. but at callbacks (we had singing auditions via video and dance auditions in person and callback#were tacked on to the dance auditions) he kinda flubbed his song and then this freshman. who was with us via google meet bc he literally ha#covid at the time absolutely blew him out of the water and i remember walking away w brielle like 'holy shit [first name] [last name] just#lost a part to a freshman' (he's the kind of person you just have to full name otherwise it sounds wrong). that said i do think he made a#much better vlad then he would've made a dimitry and while he is. a lot. he's always been nice to me and i did briefly idolize him and his#stage presence way i did anya's singing voice but that faded when i got into hs and started actually observing his prima donna ways#(the one production we were in together before in middle school we didn't have any scenes together). the girl who played the grandma#actually shouted me out in cast circle and that's the only time that's ever happened to me. also i'm p sure her dad is/was dating someone m#dad and by extension myself work with so that's. Oh My God. like she (the one who works for my dad) brought him w her to a comedy show as i#think her bf but i'm not 100% sure and when he found out what school i went to he mentioned his daughter went there and despite the fact#that i basically have a script for when people ask me that question bc i do NOT pay attention to most of my fellow students and don't know#anyone i was like 'holy shit' bc i actually did. hm what else. the guy who played the tsar and i used to shittalk bad period dramas#backstage during the first part of act 2. also during the press conference scene i need you to picture all the bolshevik soldiers and#romanov royals doing the macarena behind the curtain bc that was absolutely what we were doing back there. speaking of the press conference#the really high singing w/o a clear source was actually anya standing behind the curtain on the other side of the stage bc she's the only#one who physically could sing the part. also in regards to the bolshevik soldiers. we were originally supposed to have wooden rifles but fo#some reason our director took them out so we had to just walk menacingly towards the romanovs. you can't rlly see me that well in that scen#but that jacket would NOT stay closed and for 2/3 performances i had to awkwardly hold it closed the entire time. luckily the one that was#filmed was the one where i was smart enough to bring safety pins and also saved like all of the ballerinas bc their costumes all started#falling apart at once backstage.#romeo.txt#theatreposting
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slavicafire · 2 months
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we've been living in this apartment for two months now, and while we've observed most of our new neighbours (my slavic Windowsill Watcher Grandmother gene already activated), I don't think they had the chance to see us often enough to recognise us yet.
I do know, however, from my observations, that the tiny funny dog upstairs is called Gucio. I've passed him once or twice during his walk and heard his owners use the name - and, while both the dog and his owners are oblivious to our existence, Gucio became an apt topic of discussion in our house. you know, we hear barking, ha, that's Gucio, he must be home alone again! or there's a stick left by the building door, that must have been brought by Gucio and he was forced to abandon it before entering! a household name, really.
yesterday as I was leaving to go to the store, walking down the narrow staircase, there he is! tiny funny looking dog, slightly startled by me suddenly appearing on the floor he just reached on his tiny funny looking legs.
"good morning Gucio!" I say joyfully, the most natural thing in the world.
well. remember that Gucio doesn't really know me. so he looks at me in the most flabbergasted way a dog can look at a person. he is positively aghast. agog! not sure how aware dogs are of their own names but he seemed genuinely puzzled at the apparent stretch of social convention.
and as I try to contain my laughter, I see his owner standing on the stairs below. the woman is sort of awkwardly frozen, speechless, and she looks at me.
"you... know each other?" she asks.
is that not the funniest way to phrase it. is this not the funniest question she could have asked. ma'am do you know my dog? you went to school together perhaps? you've met? do tell, are you old friends? maybe you worked together? you know each other, my dog and you? this dog? you know him? he knows you? he never mentioned you I'm afraid
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oh-look-car-horns · 2 months
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Wondering what boop count your 3 letter word corresponds to? I gotchu:
Using a python script I wrote, I booped myself 50,000 times, saving an image of my boop-o-meter every 500 boops. Before we get into the results, there are two important limitations to this study that I should mention:
Firstly, because I only recorded the boop-o-meter every 500 boops, if a message appeared for less than 500 boops it may not have been caught.
Secondly, every now and then my computer would lose a boop or two when a click wouldn't register. This is seen in the 500 and 1000 boop images below, which in reality read 498 and 994 respectively. Because of this, boop values are slightly lower than they appear.
With that out of the way, lets dig in.
0-999:
From boops 0-999, the boop-o-meter displays your boop count, and changes color as you boop
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Boop count: 0 Boop count: 500 Boop count: 1000
Boop fact: the colors do not change after 1000
LOL:
Between boops 1000 and 1500, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'LOL'. This likely took place at 1000 boops, but maybe it said 'MAX' or sumn for awhile at first? Idk this is already the misinformation website so not my problem.
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Boop count: 1500 (actually more like 1490 ish)
More results below the cut
OMG:
Between 1500 and 2000, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'OMG'. Again, this probably happened at 1500 but who knows. Maybe staff made it 1523 for the bit or something.
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Boop count: ~2000
WOW:
The boop-o-meter remained at omg until the 3500 boop readpoint, when it switched to 'WOW', meaning this transition happens somewhere between ~2980 and ~3480.
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Boop count: ~3500
Boop fact: 'WOW' is the second longest reigning message
*-*:
Between 5000 and 5500 the boop-o-meter switched to '*-*'. You get the idea at this point so I'll speed it up.
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Boop count: ~5500
WHY:
The boop-o-meter changed to 'WHY' between 6000 and 6500 boops. For science. That's why.
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Boop count: ~6500
PLZ:
Next was 'PLZ', switching between 7000 and 7500.
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Boop count: ~7500
AAA:
I'm not sure what bloody urine has to do with anything, but for some reason staff felt is was important to display, switching between 7500 and 8000.
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Boop count: ~8000
;_;:
Huh the colon makes that one look weird. 8000-8500.
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Boop count: ~8500
Boop fact: That fucking cat haunts me in my dreams
0_0:
I realized after I set my pyautogui script running that my computer wouldn't turn off its screen because of the clicking, so there was a strobing blue light in my room all night. This encapsulated my expression while trying to sleep (8500-9000).
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Boop count: ~9000
MAX:
After 9000 it displayed 'MAX'. This was cap. (9000-9500 switch).
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Boop count: OVER 9000 (9500)
<33:
I miss my wife. 9500-10,000.
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Boop count ~10,000
TUM BLR:
THE HOLY GRAIL. The boop-o-meter switched to displaying 'TUM BLR' between 10,000 and 10,500 boops. Because my actual boop count was slightly behind my theoretical, I'd guess that this change happened at 10,000 boops.
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Boop count: ~10,500 (likely switched at 10,000)
Summary:
When charted the boop curve looks as follows:
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Boop curve: 0 - 10,000 boops
My script continued to run until 53,000 boops, but no further changes were observed. Again, there were quite possibly more messages at lower boop values, but my ass is not checking. Maybe I should have scaled my sampling accordingly, but it is what it is. Thank you for joining me on this journey, and if you have any corrections or more information, please add it to this post.
Boop fact: Terfs DNI
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bwere · 4 days
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SUKUNA R. LITTLE MISS SECRETARY
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wc: 5.4k
DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT MASTERLIST
sukuna ryomen. notorious for firing his secretaries left and right—and despite the constant doting from your peers’ of this, you apply for an interview. if he wont take assurance in your words, what better way than to prove them—right?
warnings: modern!au, ceo!au, creampię, pssy eating, slight spnking, degradation, seduction, mentions of bawls, raw-doggin’, semi-exhibitionism, deęp-throating, filthy smut. not proofread entirely, may seem repetitive until updated.
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[11:00am]
Ryomen Sukuna, infamous for firing his secretaries without regard for their backgrounds or talents. Their appearance—whether pretty or plain—held no sway; if Sukuna disagreed, they were promptly shown the door. 
Gojo leaned back in his chair. Shoes kicked up on the table, rocking his weight to make the chair aloft above the floor in the slightest - before it clunks back down. "Are you sure you're up for this? You do know his secretaries don't even last a week before they're fired, right?"
"Or quit." Geto chimed in with an obnoxious slurp of his drink.
Gojo shrugged. "Exactly my point, even if he does hire you—I'd give it like a week tops."
It wasn’t as if you didn’t know–you were more than aware. And still, you chose to ignore their crude remarks. 
Shoko, who had been silently observing the interaction, finally interjected. Her voice, a soothing balm, countered the mounting concern. "Gentlemen," she asserted, "I think our friend has had her fill of the negativity you keep putting in her head." 
"Thank you, Shoko." You retorted, emphasizing her name with a sigh that mingled thankfulness with a teasing nuance.
"But I'm- you knoww, juust curious," Shoko persisted, her eyes searching yours for an answer. “What makes you want to take up the role of a secretary for him?”
Your friends' questioning looks prompted a brief moment of reflection. Why indeed? The challenge, the thrill, the chance to prove yourself? You knew the answer, but articulating it seemed more discouraging than facing the notorious Ryomen Sukuna himself.
Ryomen Sukuna, a name that sent tremors down spines, loomed large in the headlines. And here you were, recommended for a position under him. Why did you persist, knowing the outcome was likely to remain unchanged?
Your reputation as an efficient secretary preceded you, effortlessly navigating past employers. Your serious organization and unwavering commitment to schedules impressed every employer you’ve worked for. 
Much like any employer, they clung to their stubbornness, refusing to acknowledge your skills or consider promoting you. 
Why? Pure greed.
To make matters worse, you were never compensated fairly for keeping their businesses afloat. Instead, your hard work was consistently overlooked, and someone else often claimed credit for your accomplishments.
You begin to speak, recounting your past experiences, your friends gather around, hanging on every word. "Well, each of my previous bosses had their quirks. Mr. Tanaka was all about efficiency. He'd have me schedule his meetings back-to-back, with no breaks. Taught me how to manage a tight calendar."
Shoko sighed. "Sounds exhausting."
You continued, "Yup. Then there was Ms. Sato. Brilliant mind, but her focus skills were...lacking.”
Geto chuckled, “That’s a bit brutal, isn’t it? No mercy from you, I see.” 
Gojo’s infectious barks of laughter echoes through the coffee shop, turning heads as patrons look over in frowns. “Ouch!” he cries out, feigning injury as Shoko’s elbow connects with a harsh nudge.
“Welll…it’s just that, I practically ran the office for her. It's pretty much where I learned to foresee everyone's needs and you know, take initiative."
"And Oh! Let's not forget Mr. Yamada," you spoke up with a huff. 
“Uh Oh, not Mr. Yamada…” Gojo mocks teasingly, faking a dramatic gasp as he throws his hands in the air.
“Ah, yes Mr. Yamada,” you play along with Gojo’s theatrics, your voice laced with mock solemnity. “He was such a stickler for details. I’m talking—everything had to be perfect from reports to the scuffs on my shoes... So much that perfection became my middle name, if I must add.”
Gojo laughed. "He sounds more controlling than anything."
"More or less," you affirmed. "Though, each one taught me something valuable. That's why I think I can handle Mr. Ryomen. He's just another challenge to overcome." 
Your friends shared glances, their expressions a blend of respect and worry. They understood the futility of doubting your capabilities. Your reputation for transforming challenges into triumphs was well-established.
“T’ah, Indeed, it would be a poor decision on his part to let you go,” Geto concurred, not once doubting your value.
“More like he’d be a serious idiot if he did.” Gojo said, his eyes rolling comically in a show of hatred for the entire idea.
“Besides,” you added with a smirk, “I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge. And Mr. Ryomen? He’s the Everest of bosses. Conquering that peak would be quite the resume highlight, don’t you think?”
Shoko’s giggles joined the chorus of agreement. “Truly, if there’s someone who can manage the notorious Sukuna, it’s you.” 
Eventually, the conversation dove through a tapestry of topics, the cafe becoming a cocoon of your shared jokes and light-hearted banter. 
Time, on the other hand—had places to be. 
As your eyes landed on the plastic clock perched near the register. The benign ticking was a stark reminder that the afternoon’s grace period had expired, stabbing you back as remembrance of your planned afternoon kicked in.
“Oh my gosh- that clock right? Is it 11:30 already?” Your drink almost tipping over as you leaped to your feet.
Shoko’s eyes mirrored your alarm. “Isn’t your interview scheduled for 12?” 
“Yes! How could it slip my mind?” A rush of urgency overtook you as you snatched up your belongings, the voices of your friends merging into a symphony of encouragement and last-minute tips as you dashed through the door and made a beeline for your car.
“Knock em’ dead!!"
[11:35am]
The name ‘COMPANY REP’ plastered on your phone’s lock screen, peering over as your phone flashed through your peripheral view. Feeling a wave of pressure as you read the name, it was Uraume, the representative for Ryomen. 
Shit—you were still a good distance from the company’s location, about an exit to be precise. 
Grabbing your phone from the cup holder, you tapped the green icon to answer. Uraume’s voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello, I’m just checking in about your interview for the secretary role at noon.”
You rose back from the steering wheel, as if it's inscribed in your memory to adopt a more formal posture as the cacophony of honking horns invaded the air around you. “Hello,” you responded, keeping your voice cheerful and composed.
“I’m on my way right now; I got caught up in a lunch rush.” You chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. “But I promise, I’ll be there.”
“Very well,” the representative said, their voice smooth. “I’ll be waiting by the elevator on the top floor when you arrive.” 
Soon after, the line went dead, leaving you with an itching sense of anxiety. 
For a moment, the thought of 'accidentally' skipping the next exit crossed your mind and boy did it sound good right about now.
But could you honestly deny the interest that lit within you? What might lay beyond those translucent doors—an opportunity for a fresh start, perhaps? Or was it the hand of destiny at play? Regardless, you stood ready for whatever awaited you.
[11:57am]
The clock in your head seemed to tick impatiently as you rushed toward the imposing glass doors of the corporation. Your interview was scheduled for noon, and you were already cutting it dangerously close.
You dashed through the revolving doors, the sound of your heels punctuating the quiet of the marble lobby. Approaching the front desk, as you requested a temporary ID pass. “Good afternoon, I’m here for the secretary position interview at 12 p.m.”
“Oh yeah! Uraume mentioned your appointment. Here’s your guest pass. The elevator to your left will take you straight to the top floor,” the receptionist replied. 
“Thank you kindly,” you responded with a gracious smile. 
“No problem, I’ll inform Uraume that you’re on your way up.” she added.
Pass in hand, you pivoted toward the elevator. The cool marble underfoot seemed to resonate with the flutter of nerves within you. The rhythmic click of your heels on the stone served as a metronome to your thoughts, each step a beat closer to a potentially life-changing interview. 
The elevator was a sleek, modern contraption, its steel doors reflecting your anxious expression. You pressed the button for the top floor, and as the doors slid shut, you were enclosed in a small, quiet world. The only sound was the tinny melody of the elevator, a constant drone that mirrored your heart's unkempt thump. 
As the elevator climbed, thoughts tumbled through your mind. Was stepping into this role the correct move? With the odds stacked against success, what made you different? Doubts swirled in your mind, each one more insistent than the last.
Soon, the elevator came to a lurching stop, and you were pulled from your thoughts. As doors slid open, you were greeted by the sight of Uraume, whose presence was like a beacon, cutting through the fog of your doubts. 
Well shit, no turning back now.
Emerging from the elevator your eyes met with Uraume’s. Their face gave nothing away, yet their voice carried a note of caution. "I’d advise you to mind your words with Mr. Ryomen. He has little patience for ignorance."
You hummed with a tentative nod, you seemed to be endlessly made aware of Mr. Ryomen's reputation. Especially since your friends found out you were going to this interview—not a second went by where they didn’t bring it up. You felt as if you understood more than anyone how some barely lasted a day.
With a determined pep in your step, you proceeded down the dimly lit corridor, Uraume's silent presence a step behind.
Mr. Ryomen or rather—Sukuna, was a man of striking features, no doubt. His salmon-colored hair was always impeccably styled, and his piercing eyes held an intensity that could make anyone’s heart prone to failure. His sharp jawline was accentuated by a usually neatly shaven face, and his tailored suits always seemed too tight around his muscular build. He carried an air of authority and charisma that was both intimidating and captivating.
His allure extended beyond mere aesthetics. As one of the nation's elite CEOs, his reputation was built on groundbreaking tactics and bold leadership. His guidance propelled the company to new heights of prosperity and influence, cementing its status as a powerhouse in the business world.
Sukuna’s popularity was not just about his charisma either; it was his professional acumen that had everyone vying for his attention. Aspiring candidates flocked, eager for the chance to bask in his aura and absorb his energy. Expectably, they fell short. Sukuna’s expectations seemed to soar to stratospheric levels, ones that even NASA would find daunting to align with.
And you’d be lying if you didn’t find yourself wondering what it could be like by his side. Waking up everyday with a pool in your panties—because you’d get to see your attractive boss calling your name by his side with need. 
As Sukuna’s success and influence grew, so did his reluctance to admit the need for support. The absence of a secretary began to take its toll on the productivity of his team, especially his representative’s. 
Snapping you out of your thoughts as Uraume halted just before Sukuna’s office door. “Good luck,” they offered, before making their way back to the elevator. You adjusted your form-fitting dress, a mix of poise and nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you knocked with a dense one, two - three on the door.
"You may enter."
[12:02pm]
As you step into his office, the reality of the situation settles in. 
Here was the man who had graced countless headlines, a visionary whose name was synonymous with success. Though, as terrifyingly lurking as the prospect was, you were determined to not just be another face in the crowd.
This was your chance, the moment of truth. Most of which people never got.
As your gaze met his, there was an undeniable pull towards the depth of his eyes, a fierce intensity that held a world of ambition and insight.
It's as if his gaze was trying to unravel you, like pieces of a puzzle, but you don't let it.
Sukuna sat there, the very picture of corporate elegance, his presence commanding the space around him. His scent, bespoke and expensive, filled the room with an air of dominance, while his hair, a striking shade of muted pink with whispers of black, framing his face perfectly.
Your heart races, but not out of fear – no, it's exhilaration. This is what you’ve prepared for, all those late nights, every challenging task, every impossible deadline you’ve made possible.
He caught you in the act of admiring him, a knowing smirk proud on his lips. "Enjoyin’ the view?" he tugs, before his expression shifted to one of business-like seriousness. "Uraume has mentioned your potential. It’d be best not to waste that." 
The challenge was set, and the interview began.
“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. “I’ve always believed in simplicity.”
His eyebrow arched. “Simplicity?”
“Yes,” you said, leaning forward. “Complexity often masks inefficiency. A straightforward approach can yield remarkable results.”
He leaned back, intrigued. “Most people stumble over their words when they meet me.”
“You’ll find…” you begin, holding his gaze with unwavering poise, “that I’m not one to follow the common trend.”
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow. “That remains to be seen.”
For the next few minutes, the interview wove through a conversation of intellect and subtlety. You navigated his inquiries with finesse, sidestepped the snares he laid, and even managed to steal a laugh from him. As time ticked on, a frisson of worry tinged your nerves, Uraume's cautionary words a distant murmur.
Sukuna's voice, a resonant timbre, stirred the air. His incisive gaze seemed to dissect your very thoughts. "Enlighten me, what makes you believe you deserve the job of working for me?"
You inhaled deeply, your reply sulking in assurance, "Mr. Ryomen, my expertise aligns perfectly with your needs. And when it comes to managing your expectations," you trailed, a sly smile plastering on your lips, "I have a knack for exceeding them in the most unexpected ways."
His eyes locked with yours, unwavering. "You're confident you're the one?"
"Without a doubt," you affirmed. "It's often the unassuming key that unlocks the door to brilliance."
He reclined, a contemplative shadow crossing his features. His stare never faltered. "You have a way with words," he observed, a trace of vindication in his voice.
"However, words alone are commonplace. Tell me, how will you demonstrate that you're more than just a woman with commendable references?"
You collected your thoughts, your confidence unshaken. "Mr. Ryomen," you began, your tone imbued with conviction, "I'm a believer in the showance of action. Grant me the chance, and I assure you, my performance will not only meet but eclipse your…high standards."
Wonder sparked in his eyes, a subtle smile embarking at the corners of his mouth. "Oh?" he intoned, the word hanging in the air, ripe with expectation. "Well then, I await the proof of your claims, Miss…?" His tone dipped, a whisper of question in the quiet space between you.
"Think of me as your right hand, Mr. Ryomen," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. "I'm here to ensure that your every need is met, with precision and a personal touch."
His gaze was unyielding, tracking your every movement, a longing in the depths of his eyes. He observed you closely, a silent notice of your boldness. The air between you was charged, a palpable tension that spoke volumes more than words ever could. 
Without waiting for a response, you motion around the desk. Circling the desk with calculated steps, you maintained eye contact, now before him. Mere inches away from his face—the moment was ripe with possibility, the beginning of a partnership that could redefine the very essence of collaboration. 
And slowly, you begin to unbutton your dress, exposing a bra with lace details that drew attention to your tender breasts. 
"I'll be your right hand in the office," you murmur, letting your dress slide off your shoulders, just barely baring your smooth, supple skin. "And your left hand..." You trace his strong jawline with your fingers, savoring the slight stubble. "...whenever you crave a touch of pleasure."
Sukuna's eyes darken in covetous as he sinks in your intentions. "Impressive initiative, but it'll take more than that to convince me, beautiful. I have very specific requirements and expectations that need to be met."
Unpersuaded, you choose to escalate your lure on him. Feeling the firmness of his growing erection pressing against your thighs, you straddle his lap. Your grin - sluggish, your folds damp with elation in your panties as you hush, "I plan to take care of all of your needs, Mr. Ryomen. Actually—I intend to surpass them."
[12:30pm]
His breath retracted, as you pressed your soft breasts against his pecs and began to undo his suit jacket, exposing his toned, muscular chest. 
Your fingers trailed down his warm skin, sending goosebumps through his body as you explicitly avoided the growing bulge in his slacks.
“Mmm, Mr. Ryomenn—I know you’re aching," you murmur, your fingertips tantalizingly weaving over his torso. "And I have just the perfect remedy to alleviate that stress. Shall I show you?"
Sukuna nods in agreement, his eyes broadening, feeling a surge of lust that leaves him thirsty. The curiosity about your limits conquering over his mind.
You slip off his lap, your body slithering to the floor on your knees, your lips forming up into an enticing grin. With slow, careful manuvers, you undo his belt and unzip his fly, peeling the material back to release his thick, hard cock. A soft moan escapes your lips as you take in the sight of his length, throbbing with urgent need.
You take the tip into your comforting, wet mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, tasting the sweet dribbles of pre-cum. Humming with delight, sending vibrations through his core as you take in more of him, sucking gently.
Sukuna's eyes just want to roll back in pure pleasure—a deep groan escaping his lips. "Mnh, is that tha’ best you can do?" His right hand rests atop your head, ghostingly guiding you as to respect your pace.
It’s all just motivation, as you suck harder, taking him deeper until your eyes start to water from the intensity. You hollow your cheeks; as you take him the deepest you can go with a gag. Your head bobs up and down, your hands gently cupping his heavy balls.
"That's ittt—suck me, show me how bad y’wanna be m’ lil secretary," he grunts, his hips thrusting in rhythm with your mouth. "That fuckin’ mouth s’gon’ be the death of me."
Your actions are fueled by his words, whining in return as your thighs rub together nothing but static—yearning for some attention. You slip a hand through your panties, slipping a finger in your aching cunt, feening for your own release.
He observes the scene below him, almost studying as you multitask your way through the pleasure. Ensuring not a single strand of his clothing gets into contact with the filthy mix of your saliva and his pre-cum. Admiring the way you finger your dependent pussy, all the while taking him so deep down your throat, managing to slobber down to the base of his cock and swallow everything back up like it never existed. 
You take pride in your work, and he was now experiencing it. In fact, if anything it turned him on more. He might even have to make you his toy if you kept on. 
Sensing you're close to the edge, Sukuna suddenly pulls his cock out of your throat with a disgusting pop. His cock now drenched in fluids from your lovely torment. “Aht aht, Strip.”
You obey his orders without hesitation, his eyes roaming your body as you strip. Visibly tracing every curve in your silhouette. Fantasizing the things you might have in store for him, his dick twitches against his skin, swelling more and more each second. 
“There y’go, stick that ass out f’me.” He stares at you - appetizingly, becoming ravenous at the way you're already hunched over his handcrafted mahogany desk. 
In a matter of seconds, purely to provide him a better view.
You braced your weight on the edges of the cold surface. Pressed palms onto the glossy wood—hypnotizing him as you began to squirm your ass in his direction. 
"Like this, Mr. Ryomen?" you spoke as if you were completely innocent, your lashes moving in a way that made it appear like you weren't attempting to play coy.
Maybe in another universe he’d fall for it—but not in this one. He delivers a sharp slap to your ass cheek, leaving a stinging sensation that only makes your pussy wetter. "You jus’ keep gettin’ sluttier and sluttier, huh?" 
He snakes his veiny hand between your legs, thanks to the pad of his thumb, he prods at your delicate clit, reaching a soft whimper out of your throat. You attempt to clamp your legs together, but his big hands keep them apart as he proceeds to drive two of his fingers deep in you—instantaneously, without any delay.
"You’r so fuckin’ wet f’me." He taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "You like that, don' you?" His fingers slide in and out, his thumb continuously twisting at your burning clit.
"Y-Yes Sir…" you cry out, your body becoming weaker under his touch. 
"Sukuna." He cuts off with a sinister chuckle, "Call me Sukuna."
You nod frantically, your hips doing all the talking as you mindlessly drag onto the lengths of his fingers. Grinning wolfishly, he moves his thumb in slow circles, working your clit. "Well, aren't you just a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes?"
"Oh my fuck- it feels so good nmmh!" you breathe out, panting heavily.
“Yeah? I bet.” he laughs, adding a third finger, stretching you out deliciously.
He drove his fingers sickeningly deep into you, your pussy canal squeezing around them, seeking for more.
His persistent botherence made you gasp for air as you fought to keep your composure. Sukuna leaned in, his lips coming into contact with your neck, delivering a forceful bite.
“Mngh–Kuna’ ts’ hurts! P-please I wan’uh cuhm..!-” You cried out, arching your back—grinding your ass further against him in advance.
His fingers gradually came to a quit as he withdrew from your neck.
Your expression crumbling at his actions, “Please- don’ stop.” 
But Sukuna doesn't let you have it. He pulls his fingers out of you completely—just as you're prepared to dive over the edge, leaving you empty and writhing in dissatisfaction. 
He then raised them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. He savored the taste with an exaggerated moan, letting out a contented sigh.
“You’re so fucking mmhn- delicious.” he murmured.
“Please…”
Sukuna's lips formed a sadistic smile as he lowly chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Please what?"
You picked at your bottom lip with your teeth, your thighs rubbing together like two wet sticks trying to starting a fire. Your pussy begged for more. "Please...fuck me.." you pleaded, your voice trembling.
"Not yet," Sukuna shook his head. "Get on the desk."
You hastily climb onto the desk, heeding to his instructions to avoid wasting any more unnecessary time. Relishing the brash feeling of the cold wood fatally against your back. 
You’re embarrassingly exposed now—wide open for the man in front of you. The same man who’s about to search for your soul with his mouth. The same man who doesn’t plan on quitting until your dignities on his tongue–that is, if you had any left. 
"Goood girl." He smirks, kneeling down between your legs. Forcefully restricting you from closing your legs as he peels them apart. You can feel the cool air of the room on your wet pussy. Shivering in anticipation as he darts his tongue out. Exploring every inch of your folds as he sucks them apart with hunger. 
You possess handfuls of his hair—overflowing around your fingers, moaning as you draw him in suffocatingly. Fleeing your fingers through his strands rougher—when he hits - that spot.
"Mnghm–you’re sh’o fuckin tasty aren’tcha?" he whispers against your clit.
“Hnn…!” Unable to speak or barely catch your breath, you can feel your orgasm building again so easily, except this time you're not going to let him stop you. 
He runs his tongue over your clit—your fingertips tightening in his hair as you hold him in place. 
You feel his stubble graze your inner thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds, making you needier. He provokes your desperate shouts for more - laughing at how the octaves in your voice only seem to keep raising. But you can't help the moan that escapes your lips when his tongue flicks over your clit.
"Fuck, Sukuna…s’too m-much..!" you breathe. 
He’s good—too good at this. 
He chuckles against your cunt. His fingers digging snug into your thighs, holding you down as he continues to entice you, not once letting up for air.
“Yeah? Mgnh, s’that why r’you grippin’ m’ hair so fuckin’ mmhnguh tight?—” He licks and sucks on your puffy clit—sliding two of his fingers back inside you, fucking quicker than he did before. He's devouring everything he can like a vacuum - drowning in your folds as he does so.
You're so close, so fucking close, but he still won't let you cum. You can feel the orgasm burning inside you, your whole body tensing up as you try to hold back. But it's no use, you can't fight it any longer.
Sukuna knows it too, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the edge. You can feel your breath shortening as you gradually get closer, until you can't take it anymore, your orgasm preparing to rip through you like a freight train. 
"Please, Suh-S-Sukuna, can’ h-hold it gon’a…cumnnh!" 
He looks up at you, a carnivorous desire in his tone. "Beg for it," he growls, his tongue melting over your clit again.
“Please, Kuna’, I'm begging you. P-Please let me cum…!”
He smirks, the taste buds on his tongue roaming faster over your cunt. "Go on baby, cuhm f’me like a lil slut," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your thighs brutally.
“Ahhnn–S’Kuna n’ cummin’..!” Your whole body quivers as you succumb to his charm, your orgasm overwhelmingly taking you. His tongue sucks on your pussy—gulping down your substances.
Descending from your euphoria, he begins to stand up. His hands, his face, his entire body—now saturated in your concoction.
[1:02PM]
Disregarding his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His pants follow quickly after, leaving him standing in front of you with nothing but his boxers. You can see the outline of his hard cock through the fabric, and you can't wait to get your hands on it.
Sukuna hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and timelessly pulled them down. You licked your lips in conviction.
He reached out and cupped your chin in his palm, his thumb smoothing over your jaw. "You want this job don't you?," he whispered, his voice clouded in vanity. 
You looked up at him, and nodded—your eyes following his lips. 
“Use your words.” 
“Yes, Mr—S-Sukuna, I do.” He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. His lips were on yours, his tongue messily racing through your mouth. 
You could feel the heaviness of his cock brushing past your leg, prompting you—of what was coming next.
“Y’gonna keep it all inside like a good girl right? Not g’nna spill any of it?.”
“Mhm! Gonna be a good girl, ‘Kuna..—” He placed his hands on the sides of your head as you laid back—the hard wooden desk becoming your only security. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne, and sex - becoming intoxicating. 
Sukuna moaned into your mouth as you brought a hand below you and started to stroke him, his hips thrusting forward in time with your strokes. Dissolving into your touch before he broke the kiss, he looked down at you.
"Need’ t’be inside you," he seethed.
“M’ all yours, Mr. ‘Kuna…” You wanted him inside you just as much as he wanted to be there. 
Sukuna grabbed your calves—hauling you towards the edge of the desk, positioning you so that his cock was aimed methodically at your oh, so—more than ready cunt. 
He made a single, resentful, forceful thrust that went deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the newfound fullness, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock surging through your walls.
“Ahnn!..f-fuck-” you hiccuped as he started to fuck you harder. Inevitably slamming himself into you while lowering down to get hold of your hips—using them as leverage. 
"Ts’like she’s made f’me," he grunted, his brows are pinched, the sight of sweat accumulating around his eyes, irritably blurring his line of sight. "Tight, wet, ‘nd fuck…perfect for my cock." 
Sukuna began to roughly pound into you, each of his thrusts making you scream his name—resembling that of a prayer. His fingers now bruising into the flesh of your hips.
He was relentless, each stroke more forceful than the last. He made your legs weaken as he fucked you soulfully, the desk beneath you visibly quaking with each impact. Creaking with complaints as the legs of the table shook violently.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust. You could feel another orgasm ready to burst through, the pleasure coiling within your belly as Sukuna's cock drilled into your guts. You pathetically clung to him, clawing at his back for some sort of stability other than the shaking table underneath you.
The sound of your bodies filled the room as the noise of his balls smashing into your ass reverberated. With every thrust that brought you closer to the brink, you could feel the heat of your own need enveloping inside of you.
"Ahn…! Don't stop, don't stop, p-please..!-" you cried out, your voice hardly audible anymore. 
So, of course Sukuna’s only response was to fuck you harder, his hips ramming into yours with a force that made you see stars. 
“F-Fuck…y’r cunts gonna squeeze me f-fuckin dry..”
“G-Give it t’me ‘K-Kunauh…!-” You chanted in desperation. His thrusts became more erratic at your vowels, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his own release. You could feel his cock cruelly plowing inside you, assaulting everything in its way, leaving no room for pity. 
“Hughn- fuck..fuck…fuck..” He reiterated, guttural moans dropping from his throat as his cock probed inside you, signaling his impending release. 
You tightened your muscles around him, you could feel his cum filling you up, each second his cock rested in you, was another second that caused your walls to pulse tight around him, confirming—he didn’t finish until the very last drop. As he subsided you into your own climax, the nubs of your feet kept him still. Milking his cock of anything he had to give as you both came.
[1:29pm]
BRRING BRRING BRRING
Being brought into consciousness, the noise of his office phone pulls you out of your lucidity—your naked bodies sweaty and worn yet, still exuding warmth from one another. 
"Fuck," he grunted, pulling away from you and reaching for the phone.
"Ryomen here," he sighs into the receiver, his expression glum as he listens to his receptionist's next words.
Whilst you hurriedly put your clothes back on, you maintain your eyes on him, your body still stiff from the unnerving orgasms he had just tore from you. Sore from the constant torment he had inflicted upon your insides like a curse. 
A curse you hoped for.
"Yes, I know, but I'm in the middle of something right now," Sukuna said, his eyes flicking over to you.
With a smile on your face, you gestured to him to continue. 
"I want it to be canceled," Sukuna kept on, his eyes never leaving yours.
The voice on the other end of the line stuttered, “But s-sir, it’s an important meet-”
Sukuna cut her off, his tone firm. “I said cancel it. I’m busy.”
“But Mr. Ryomen, the client…-”
“I don’t care.” Sukuna interrupted again, his gaze still locked with yours. His eyes were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh tone he was using on the phone. “You scheduled it, so cancel it.”
He hung up and tossed the phone back onto his desk without any thought. He smiled softly as he turned back to face you. 
“Now…where were we?” 
You couldn’t help but giggle, the tension from the phone call dissipating. “I think…we were at the part where you tell me if I got the job or not.” 
Sukuna erupted with laughter, amused. He grins "Is that right?"
“Tsk–well, in that case...” he paused, calamity radiating in his charming smile. “Better start memorizin' the way I like my tea.”
You laughed against his words, your voice resonating through his office. “And how is that?” you asked.
“Two sugars, dash of milk, brewed strong. Don’t forget.”
“Two sugars, a dash of milk, anddd brewed strong,” you repeated, a cheeky smile on your lips. “Got it.”
“Good.” 
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TAGLIST (if tag isn’t grey, i could not tag. also if you keep getting tagging notifications the taglist keeps glitching so I apologise): @jotarohat @lxchlaouch @izuuzuxuzuzu @nyamocka @deepenthevoid @shitpostathon-nbpw @yaygurist @sadityb230 @qlorin @partr1dge @mikyapixie @ventila98 @aydene @kizzyxren @tananaxx @tojideckmuncher @httpstoyosi @is-belluvism @shinrjj @sephraee @c4rm1son @theiridescentdragon @spindyl @guacam011y @brianmaysclog @sexicherri3 @kukigirli @puran-poli @ilivefortheleague @freakquencys @6demonize6me6 @mmeharuno @domainexpansionmypants @mermaidian02 @no-regrets-just-confusion @qv4nx11 @seelevoellerei @iloveboysinred @hoesbeforebros101 @glossygreene @kivrumi @distinguishedlove @ssetsuka @thisuserdrinkslavendertea @love-me-satoru @tyke2219 @paprikaquinn @skunkfeet @suguruswiifey @oidloid
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applejarjar · 11 months
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Babies!!
#They finally hatched!#I knew it would be soon since they started to turn gray but I wasn't sure how long lol#Sadly they started hatching before I got home so I think two dried out#But the rest are zooming around like it ain't nobody's business!#There's a super small lighter colored one that's so stinking cute#Idk why the second clutch hasn't started hatching out yet though#Hopefully it'll be soon#One snail has made it off the lid and is in the actually aquarium so I'm hoping the rest follow suit soon#I don't wanna dump the clutches into the water of fear the unhatched snails will drown#But idk if that one snail already ate or it still needs to get Calcium#Hopefully it'll be ok#I think tjta one and a second one are already starting to change colors so that's cool!#Or they just have a purple tinge thay I didn't notice before#I'm super excited to see them all and begin analyzing their colors and stuff#I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fascinated by their genetics and ecstatic to have the opportunity to make some observations#This clutch theoretically was from my two yellow snails#But idk if they are carriers for other colors or if paternity can be shared#I have two males and two females so there could've been some crossing going on#Right now though I'm just hoping both sides of the clutch will hatch#In trying to get the eggs to a better environment I broke the clutch in half so I was worried if it'd even hatch#They seemed to make it though and I just found two more clutches two days ago#Sadly the first clutch didn't make it cause it fell in the water the day before I moved the aquarium#I incubated both just in case but it didn't do anything so that was disappointing
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lecsainz · 5 months
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A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please
˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER
parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader
an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!
summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.
Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.
You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.
"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.
Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.
According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.
After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.
"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.
Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.
During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.
It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.
"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.
After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.
Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.
"Touch her, and you'll be dead."
You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.
"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."
You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home
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celluloidbroomcloset · 6 months
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It occurs to me that as much as Ed wants to be able to be vulnerable and not have it used against him, Stede wants the same thing. He was bullied as a child and bullied as a man, and his reaction was to retreat into his fantasies where he was tough and strong, embodied in pirates. He tries to make those fantasies into reality and finds that he really doesn't want to commit the kind of violence that he would have to "to be like Blackbeard," then learns that "Blackbeard" is actually an unhappy man named Ed searching for a better, kinder life and identity.
But Stede still wants to be able to defend himself. He wants to protect people he loves. He also wants to be able to cry openly and be gentle and kind and not be mocked for it. He finds that with his crew, who at first think he's ridiculous and then will do anything for him because he'll do anything for them. Then he finds it with Ed, who embodies all the masculine attributes that Stede wanted to find in himself, but who also badly wants softness and kindness without fear of pain.
Stede is entirely able to be vulnerable with Ed. He can play games with him and not be laughed at, and tell stories and be listened to, and say the softest things like how he loves "breathing the same air" and Ed will just smile and melt. It takes them a little while to get there, but it's so lovely that Stede finds someone who will be disappointed when he stops talking and who loves him for all the things he thought he had to conceal about himself.
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(gif by @kiwistede)
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ghoulbrain · 1 month
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Saddle Up, Sweetheart
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18+ 3k ghoul x f!reader. cunnilingus/face sitting, overstim, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie. gif credit. prompt list. written for this ask. thank you! 🖤
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The Ghoul—Cooper, as you know him now—does not make himself an easy man to get to know. He was harsh with you from the start, one of the crankiest old bastards you’ve ever met. An accomplishment, given your life in the slums. He’s dismissive, angry that you even want to know him, and downright mean most days.
And yet you became fascinated with him.
It was ages before you were able to hold decent conversations, and longer than that before you had a name for him. Still, you keep digging. He intrigues you more than anyone else ever has, and despite his sour attitude, he keeps coming back. 
"You won't like what y'find," he told you one day. You knew then you were wearing him down with your persistence.
"What scares you more: the idea that I won't, or the possibility that I will?" You'd asked. 
He laughed. "Y'don't scare me, sugar."
You smiled. "Maybe I should."
Cooper started to look at you differently from then on. There had been a sense before that he was observing you as something ephemeral, a flower bud he was waiting to see bloom and die away as quickly as you'd appeared. 
Once you made it clear you weren't going anywhere, the invisible walls between you began to fall away. You feel his gaze lingering on you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You watch him in turn, holding his gaze whenever he catches you.
"Eye contact like that'll get'cha killed someday. Predators take it as a challenge," he tells you, adjusting the holster on his thigh.
"Is that what you are?" You ask from where you’re leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You raise your brow, inured to his broody one-liners. "A predator?"
To your surprise, he's the one who closes the distance this time. His footfalls are heavy, his swagger loose. He looms over you, bracing his forearm on the wall behind you. Your heart skips a beat. He rarely ever gets so close.
"I'm the worst kind there is," he says gravely, but you clock his tone for what it is. He's toying with you.
Undeterred, you square your shoulders. "And what kind is that?"
He leans in closer, smelling of oil and gunpowder. "A hungry one," he says, the heat of his breath ghosting your cheek.
Pushing you away hasn't turned you against him. Cornering you won't either. Despite his insistence to the contrary, you're no prey animal. "Well then... I s'pose you ought to have something to eat."
His radiation scarred lips spread slowly into a wicked smile. "Y'offering, sweetcheeks?" He asks, his yellowed teeth parted, poised to take a bite.
You swallow dryly, so keenly aware of the thundering of your own heart, you wonder if he can hear it, too. You tip your head back, jutting your chin out and bringing your lips closer to his.
"You don't scare me, Coop," you whisper, wielding his name like a secret weapon.
He hums, head tilting slowly while his gaze moves down your body in a leisurely calculating sweep. "Well..." He drawls, voice a low rumble from his chest. "Maybe I should."
You're ready for him to do as he's always done and leave you like that, to rile you up and then act as though it was all in your head. You've accepted that Cooper is a man on the run, and he hasn't seen anything in you worth stopping for.
The press of his lips against yours shocks you to your core.
Your arms uncross, hands fumbling to catch hold of his jacket, grabbing him before he can vanish. He responds in kind, cupping your face in the soft worn down leather of his gloves. Your pulse is all the way up in your throat, so wild you’re sure he can taste it when he slips his tongue into your mouth. 
His touch isn’t a gradual thing. He’s upon you all at once, forcing your thighs apart with his knee and slotting his thigh between yours, pressing into you until you start to sing for him, those breathy little noises muffled by his devouring kiss. At your hip, you feel the press of his cock gradually filling out beneath the layers of clothing between you.
After so long without meaningful touch, the onslaught is dizzying. You roll your hips, grinding down on his thigh until you feel your underwear clinging wetly to your skin, an exquisite shiver trilling up and down your spine. His lips feel textured and hardened by his condition, but his tongue is hot and smooth, persistently licking into your mouth, determined to feel, to taste.
That hunger drives him from your lips to your jaw, your throat, peppering rough kisses that are as much lips as they are teeth along your neck. “S’your last chance, darlin’. Point of no return,” he tells you, voice coarse. His hand slips between your bodies and starts working your pants open. “Won’t be no comin’ back from this. I’ll ruin you.”
That he would have the audacity to warn you away from the door like this after you’ve been knocking and knocking and knocking is almost laughable. You would laugh if you had enough air in your lungs, but he’s kissed it out of you.
“So ruin me,” you tell him breathlessly. He grazes his teeth over your pulse-point in a way that makes your voice hitch. “I want you.”
The rim of his hat brushes your cheek as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, making a raw noise against your skin. “God damn it,” he says, yanking you from the wall so sharply you gasp. He whirls you around, hands fisted in your shirt, kissing you hard while he walks you backwards, towards the noisy heap of springs and fabric you call a bed.
“Y’outta your fuckin’ mind for that,” he grouses, shoving your pants down off your hips. You don’t disagree, You know how terrifying he should be, what his affliction does to him, to his hunger, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing life back into your dull dusty life at the end of the world.
You’re naked by the time he pushes you down onto the bed, standing above you, sunken eyes black with fervor. He unclips the bullet belt strapped across his chest and shrugs out of his coat, tosses his hat up somewhere high on the bed. You start to crawl backwards, but he snatches your ankle and drags you right back to the very edge of the bed.
“Unbuckle me,” he orders, the words all throaty feverish heat that makes your clit throb. You do, eyes flipping back and forth from him to his belt. He watches you all the while, pulling off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them to the ground. You unbutton his pants next, hands so eager they fumble briefly before you make it to his zipper, the hiss of it coming undone drowned out by the thunder of your pulse in your own ears.
Before you get any further, Cooper catches your wrists and hauls you up to your feet, spinning you around and pulling you down over top of him on the bed. He keeps you steady while you straddle his waist, moving his hands from your wrists to your hips. You start to move back, but he cups your ass and pulls you in the opposite direction.
“Saddle up, sweetheart,” he says, licking his lips. “Y’said for me to have somethin’ t’eat. I intend to.”
Oh fuck.
Nodding hazily, you follow his lead until your knees are on either side of his head, your hands braced on the wall behind your bed.
“C’mon now, relax,” he coaxes, urging you down with his grip on your thighs. You settle most of the way down before he yanks you the rest of it, startling a noise out of you that transitions into a low moan at the molten wet slide of his tongue dragging from the bottom of your pussy to your clit, upon which his lips close down and suck.
The sensation is leagues beyond the amateurish grinding, but that session still left you sensitized. The heat of his mouth is so intense it almost burns. His tongue feels just as unreal, thick and dexterous in the way it works you, swirling repetitive patterns on your clit. He drinks from you like you’re an oasis in the desert, swallowing greedy gulps before sinking his tongue into you, fucking it in and out, coaxing more and more thirst quenching wetness from you.
“Ffffuck, oh my God,” you moan, your hands curling into fists on the wall, sliding until your forearms are braced against it instead, your head hanging between them. You wish you had something to grip, something to dig your nails into as his devil’s tongue builds hot pressure inside of you, swelling sensation toward an inevitable explosion.
Cooper is shameless beneath you, devouring without care for mess or noise. Every so often you feel the graze of his teeth and you buck away from him, but you’re no match for his strength and he keeps you held firmly down, wholly at his mercy despite your positions. 
Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to try and escape anymore, he relinquishes his hold on your hip and brings his fingers between your thighs, teasing where you’re wettest with the tip of his finger. With the way he’s sucking your clit you barely notice the initial touch, but he quickly wrings a gasp out of you by sinking his finger in all the way to the knuckle, crooking it wickedly while he rocks it in and out.
It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. He walks you on the knife’s edge of your climax, deftly toeing the line with every slow stroke of his finger and swipe of his tongue. Your stomach clenches up with it, breath catching. He pushes in a second finger, and by the time you feel the third working you open, your legs are shaking uncontrollably. He is feasting on you, humming appreciative little noises between the wet sounds of him eating you out.
A sudden jarring slap to your ass makes your quivering thighs tense up and startles a loud moan out of you. He most definitely smiles against you, fucking you steadily with his fingers.
“You son of a bitch,” you manage to choke out, tears prickling at your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of it all, your breaths growing sharper, more shallow. “I should smother you,” you say, the threat dulled by the thinness of your voice.
He smacks your ass again, harder this time. You decide that’s encouragement to do just that and grind down against his mouth, eagerly meeting every thrust of his fingers until one last good slap tips you over the edge, your orgasm striking you like a bolt of lightning. Your whole body goes tense, and Cooper ruthlessly fucks and licks you through it, sucking on your clit as it pulses and pulses and pulses through what feels like the longest climax of your life.
“Enough,” you moan weakly, pushing yourself from the wall on trembling arms. His fingers have slipped free, but he’s still drinking you down, holding your thighs in a vice grip. You can’t stop shaking, the burn of pleasure beginning to feel like the most exquisite pain. “C-Coop, enough, I can’t–you fucker,” you gasp, jolting in his grip when he nips at your clit.
He finally lets you up, easing you down with two hands firmly on your ass. You slide back until you’re straddling his waist, hands braced on his chest while you catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time, knocking you down into his lap as he sits up. He takes your face in his hands and kisses your own taste into your mouth, giving a throaty little rumble.
“I decide when you’ve had enough,” he says, dropping one hand to work his cock free from his undone pants. “And you’ll remember that you asked for it.”
Each word feels like a spark of electricity. You lift yourself on trembling knees, hands on his shoulders, and he puts his arm around you, drawing you in while you sink down until you feel the thick head of his cock–wet with his own precum–nudging against your spit-soaked pussy.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how good you can take me.” You can hear the restraint in his voice, feel it in the thrum of his touch. You hold his gaze while his cock forces you open in one smooth, frictionless slide, the stretch a dull ache that rapidly ascends into pleasure. He lets you adjust a moment or so before he begins to move, holding your hips steady while he rocks his own, reclining down onto his back.
“Don’t you hold out on me,” you tell him through a shuddered breath, hands behind you, braced on his thighs. “You promised me ruin.”
As sharply as he’d slapped your ass, Cooper gives a hard thrust up, his dull nails biting crescents into your skin, his grip all that keeps you from losing your balance. “One taste and y’already damn spoiled,” he says, planting his boots on your bed–you’ll give him shit for that later–and picking up a brutal pace almost immediately. “C’mon then, sweetheart. Ride me.”
You have no choice but to comply, grabbing hold of what you can of his shirt while he bucks hard under you. Every thrust sparks inside you like the strike of a match, your cunt still sensitive. You can already feel yourself climbing towards another peak. You arch your back, watching him through the haze of your own pleasure. His eyes are dark, his teeth bared. He looks like something wild, like something ready to bite.
“Goddamn, that’s it, y’squeezin’ me fuckin’ good now,” he groans, tipping his head back, watching you bounce on his cock through heavily lidded eyes. “Give it up for me, pretty girl. Show me this is really what you want,” he rambles, his accent growing thicker the closer he gets. You nod along, panting wordlessly, his thrusts knocking sweet little keening noises from your throat. “Go on now, that’s it. Show me how it feels when I make you cum.”
The world around you goes black just before an eruption of white explodes behind your eyelids like stars, your whole body stilling to endure the overwhelming crash of your release, the shock of it rolling out in waves throughout your entire body. You don’t speak, you don’t even breathe, too struck by the magnitude of it. 
Cooper fucks you through every second of it, slurring a litany of feverish nonsense–your name sprinkled within it–until he breaks off into a choked off noise, and in the middle of your euphoria you feel a the rush of his release spilling deep inside you, his body finally stilling under yours.
You sink down onto his chest, panting against the collar of his shirt. He moves his hand along your back, and a distant part of you is caught off guard by how tenderly he sweeps his fingers up the back of your neck. You answer in kind by slipping your fingers just under his collar, fingertips brushing bare skin that’s as gnarled as the rest of him.
The two of you sit in silence for a long while, neither of you willing to break the spell of your afterglow. The entire world feels softer in it, the dull sepia of it tinged with hints of gold. The dust particles floating around you almost seem to sparkle. In any other moment, you’d scold yourself for romanticizing the rotten remains of a dead world that has been so cruel to you, but for just this moment, you let yourself believe that things can be beautiful, too.
You lose yourself to the warmth of his body beneath yours, and the gentle way he traces the slopes of your body with his fingertips. Eventually, Cooper cleans his throat. You ignore it, reluctant to acknowledge him. You know once you do, the moment will be over.
“Y’might wanna get situated with a pack of Radaway soon,” he murmurs, the twang of his voice still heavier than usual. 
Tucked into the crook of his neck, you smile while he still can’t see you, endeared. “I’ve had worse exposures.”
“I find that hard t’believe,” he says, cupping the back of your neck in his palm. His thumb strokes absently back and forth. You can almost believe he’s dragging out these last few moments together, too.
Lifting yourself, you brace your forearms on his chest, staring down at him. His expression is difficult to parse–while there is most definitely a sense of ease you don’t normally associate with him, there’s also a profound sadness.
Your brows furrow. “What?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves his hand from your neck to your cheek, swiping his thumb along the ridge of it. You lean into his touch, ready to ask again, when he makes a grab for his hat and places it firmly on your head, obscuring your vision.
“That was some fine ridin’, sweetheart,” he says, voice as coarse and sweet as raw sugar.
You push the brim up until you can see him again, failing to bite back a smile. “Guess I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts now.”
“I ain’t a sheriff," he says flatly, though the slight tic at the corner of his mouth gives away his amusement.
“That’s right, y’ain’t. ‘Cause I am,” you say in your best impression of him, tipping his hat at him.
He blows out a breath and tugs the rim back down over your eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetcheeks,” he says, and though you can’t see him, you’re certain you can hear the smile in his voice.
Today may never happen again. The world could end tomorrow–again–or Cooper could walk off into the Wastes for the very last time. If you’ve learned anything in this world, it’s that nothing lasts forever. So, you drop your head back down and listen to the beat of his heart, using it to count the moments as they pass.
If they’re gonna be the best you get, you’d like to know how many of them you have.
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lobautumny · 1 year
Text
So like, the Reddit strike going on right now, yeah? I've been seeing a lot of people comment on how they appreciate the protest and then go on to say that this has the notable downside of them constantly looking up questions and not being able to easily find the answers because all of the easily-findable answers are exclusively on Reddit. I am not sure if most of the people making this observation are within the line of thought of "man, maybe this protest isn't such a good idea after all" or "man, it really sucks that we've let the internet get so consolidated," and I'm really hoping its the latter.
Like, all of this? This right here? Reddit making a shitty, anti-consumer grab for money and control over how people are allowed to access the information on their servers, and the website going dark in protest causing tons of people to not be able to access important information? This is exactly what people mean when they say that it's bad that the internet has shrunk down so much and is mostly comprised of, like, 10 websites. It's a fucking problem that one company making one bad decision and causing their website to crash and burn can jeopardize so much of humanity's cumulative information.
This two-day glimpse into the internet without Reddit is the warning shot. Imagine what will happen if Reddit actually goes down for good for one reason or another one day. Imagine what will happen if/when Discord or Fandom bites the dust, or gets rendered practically-unusable without paying an ever-increasing premium because they're owned by blood-sucking corporate leeches.
Another big thing is Twitter clamping down really hard on your ability to DM people if you don't have Twitter Blue. If this goes through, it'll put a ton of artists and sex workers who rely on Twitter DMs for their business operation into a shitty situation. Now, obviously, it's not gonna be the end of the world for them, but once again, it feels like a warning shot to me. Twitter is a sinking ship, and unless something changes and it starts to course-correct, I worry that it'll go under and all of the creators who rely on it will suddenly be in an extremely precarious situation.
These are the sorts of things that we, as the users of the internet, need to seriously think about as time goes on, and if we don't find an adequate answer sooner, we're going to pay for it later. I still hold that the best solution is to start making and using more individual, niche websites. Things like Twitter, Reddit, Discord, etc. have their place, of course, but I seriously think a lot was lost through the death of things like individual forums and the existence of many different wiki-hosting sites.
We need a concerted effort, not just on the side of larger creators, but on the users themselves, to stop exclusively using these larger websites and support the creation and growth of smaller, more niche websites, and prevent a catastrophe before it actually happens. I simply hope that people with larger platforms than my own pick up on all this and start talking about it and swaying people to act sooner rather than later. I know it's possible to correct the problem of the mysteriously tiny internet before a modern Library of Alexandria moment happens, I just don't know if that correction will actually happen in time.
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reiderwriter · 6 months
Note
Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?
A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!
Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.
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Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.
It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.
Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.
On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.
When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.
“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.
“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.
Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.
“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.
Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.
Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.
“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.
“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”
“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.
Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.
So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.
Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.
Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.
Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.
You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.
“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.
“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”
His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.
“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.
As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.
You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.
There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.
“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.
“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”
“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”
“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”
The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.
“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.
You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.
It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.
Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.
You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.
“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.
“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.
“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”
“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.
“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”
“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.
“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”
“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned
“Are you good with dates?”
“Excuse me?”
“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.
“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”
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nanaslutt · 7 months
Note
choso with tongue piercing? >_<
hngh i need his tongue inside me :(
😝
Bestfriend!Choso X Reader :3
contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talk, exhibitionism (they're in a car), sexual tension, oral (r!receiving), Choso’s first time giving head, slight jealousy, whipped!Choso & reader, first time receiving, reader has a bad track record w/ guys, mentions of bj, so soft & sweet
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Holy fuck." You swallowed hard at the view in front of you. "My brother convinced me to get it done when he got some of his piercings, said it could be a bonding experience," Choso explained, putting his tongue decorated with the little silver ball back into his mouth. "Did it hurt?" You asked, your mind still reeling that he had hidden a tongue piercing from you for all these years.
"It wasn't horrible, I'm pretty good with pain. I don't really see the point in having it pierced though." He started to explain, "No one ever sees it, even I forget it's there sometimes." Choso finished. You just smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as he kept talking about his experience getting pierced.
You had already thought of 400 scenarios in which you would let choso put his tongue (and piercing) to work on your body, so the pain he went to to get the pretty jewelry wouldnt be in vain. One particular scenario stood out in your head of him tongue fucking you, feeling the metal against your clit and- "You okay?" Choso's voice rang in your ears.
"Huh?" You said, pulling yourself from your daydream. "I asked if you would ever get your tongue pierced and you just froze up." He explained, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh! Oh right! I uh, I'm pretty squeamish around needles so thinking about it makes me a little... nervous" You lied through your teeth, thanking the universe that he seemed to believe it.
For the rest of the day the two of you spent together, the only thing you could focus on was his piercing. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught you several times. Choso had purposely run his tongue over his lips to wet them, every so often, just to see your breath hitch when you got a glimpse of the silver.
As he was driving the two of you back to his house for a nightcap, some relaxing song playing in the background, you spoke up through the silence, "Thanks for today Choso! I know the night isn't over yet but the museum you took us to was so much fun, we have to go to the cafe inside next time!" you exclaimed. He turned his head away from the road to look at you, before returning his gaze on the dark street.
"I'm surprised you remembered there was a cafe." He said, a hint of teasing, and snarkiness hiding in his voice. "Huh?" You voiced, tilting your head at him in confusion. "You seemed out of it today." He elaborated, "Is there something going on?" He asked, keeping his voice and face fairly monotone. His question caught you off guard, had you really been acting that weird all day? So much so that he picked up on it? Oh god.
"No! No, I'm just a little tired today, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird." You forced out a laugh, once again coming up with a quick and hopefully believable lie. Unluckily for you, Choso saw right through it. "Are you sure? Because you were acting fine until I showed you my piercing." He said, hitting the nail right on the head.
You froze, not expecting him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment in the day you started behaving strangely, why was he so damn observant? "Oh.. really?" You said, no bullshit lies or excuses coming to your tongue, so you tried to laugh it off instead, saying something about a coincidence. "Did me sharing that make you uncomfortable?" He said, making you immediately reassure him that was absolutely not the case.
He turned the car onto your street, driving slowly down the dark path and towards your house. The two of you have been friends for the longest time, spending practically every second together any chance you got, so of course he knew the way to your house like the back of his hand.
"Oh my god no! No choso, really it's.. it's nothing.." You panicked slightly, not wanting him to feel bad for you being a perv and not being able to control yourself over a piercing. You sighed heavily, scrunching your face up as you seriously contemplated telling him what was really going on with you today.
No matter what you did you couldn't stop imagining your oblivious best friend's tongue between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue and teasing the bud with the cold metal. You wanted to feel guilty you really did, but the vision was too delicious to feel any remorse.
"Does it turn you on?" He asked, pulling into your driveway and putting the car into part before he unbuckled himself and turned his body to face you. The expression on his face was unreadable, which made you nervous. Your face was heating up, and your mouth dropped open and closed like a fish out of water, trying to think of a response as your brain processed his unexpected words. You really didn't want your long-term secret crush on your best friend to be exposed like this.
"The piercing, does it turn you on?" He asked again, rephrasing his question. Oh god.. he was going to call you a perv and kick you out of the car, leaving you cold and alone in your own driveway if you said yes right? He would definitely think you were weird, who thinks about their best friend in that way?
You opted to shut your mouth, as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded as softly as you could, unsure of your own actions. He looked past you, scanning the outside around the two of you to make sure there were no witnesses before he spoke his next words. "Wanna find out why I actually got this piercing?" He asked, making your face turn a dark shade of crimson as you whispered out a needy, "Please.."
--
"Fuck- Ohmygod right there Choso- Fuck!" Your hands dug into his soft strands of hair as he ate you out like a man starved. He had you on your back in the backseat of the car, legs splayed out for him as he laid between them, feasting on your cunt. He flattened his tongue out against your clit, making sure the ball of the piercing was kissing the little bud before he shook his head back and forth, stimulating your clit against it.
It had happened so fast, he had leaned forward and pressed your lips together, asking if this was okay before he unbuckled your seatbelt while you were distracted, and somehow the two of you had ended up in the backseat. You weren't sure why he didn't just drag you inside but you couldn't lie that the thrill of doing something like this in the car was exciting.
Choso scissored his fingers in and out of you, abusing your g-spot with the pads of his digits as they curled up against it. His tongue was working you over so well, he drew his name over and over on your clit, occasionally sucking it into his warm mouth and humming around it, sending delicious vibrations through your cunt.
Choso had never told you about any of his sexual conquests, so you werent really sure what to expect in terms of how well he would do when he said he was going to eat you out. Now you were begining to think he had a side job as a porn star or something because his technique was unreal.
"H-how are you so fucking g-good mph!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he suckled your clit particularly hard, making your body jolt against him. Truthfully, Choso had never eaten anyone out before, but he most definitely had watched porn and practiced on his hand for the day he got the courage to ask you out.
He wasn't expecting the opportunity to fall into his lap this easily, so when he saw your eyes light up at his piercing, he internally thanked the gods that you caught a glimpse of it in the sun, which led to him revealing the jewelry to you.
Choso always paid the utmost attention to you, without you even knowing it. He knew what you liked and disliked, he even so much as knew every detail about your tone and facial expressions to make sure you were constantly pleased and comfortable, he always wanted the best for you after all.
He watched how people would break your heart and toss you aside like you were nothing, it alwasy made him furious. They were absolute idiots to give you up, he hated seeing you sad over some unemployed nobody who never really cared about you from the start. Althogh he hated them, he couldnt help but feel a little grateful for them. If it werent for them taking you for granted, you might be in a relationship still, and the two of you wouldnt be in his backseat right now.
Choso moaned against your core when your hands tightened in his hair, rolling his eyes at the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp. "Does it feel good?" He said back, knowing damn well your answer. "Yes, yes Choso, fuck!" You moaned, dropping your chin to watch him work between your thighs.
He was already looking at you when your eyes locked with his. His eyebrows scrunched together upon feeling your gaze, keeping his dark eyes on yours as he ate you out with more vigor, drinking in your body’s every reaction to his tongue. The vibrations from his deep groans were going to push you over the edge. "Choso- Choso I'm close," You whined, fighting your eyes from rolling back in your head so you could keep your eyes on his and watch him do his thing.
He was so unbelievably handsome like this, the streetlights casting beautiful shadows on his face, and his expression was so needy it made your heart skip a beat. The way his eyebrows mimicked your expressions whenever he did something that felt particularly good, was so hot, he was so attentive.
The man between your legs was feeling drunk. This was something he only dreamed of and it was actually happening. He felt like his cock was going to burst from just tasting you alone, but he would gladly make home between your thighs forever. "Please," He begged from between your legs, scrunching his eyebrows together as he ate you out with more vigor.
He released his fingers from your tight hole and opted to replace them with his tongue, pressing his face as tightly against you as he could to make sure his tongue was fucking inside you as deep as possible, making sure to lick his tongue upwards against your walls so you could feel his piercing inside you. His fingers came to rub little circles on your clit with expert precision, making your legs start to shake.
You dug your nails against his scalp as you humped your hips against his face, hearing his muffled moans encourage you from between your thighs. "Ohmygod Choso! I-I'm cumming-" You wined before you felt the knot start to unravel. Choso swore he almost came in his pants at how sensually you cried out his name, mentally recording it for later.
He kept up his ministrations on your pussy, drinking up everything you gave him as you came hard on his face, squishing his soft cheeks between your thighs. He was mesmerized as he watched your body shake and curl in on itself, he stared at your mouth as it dropped open and spilled out profanities and whines of his name, broken on your tongue. When your back relaxed against the seat of the car once more he slowed his fingers on your clit, careful to not overstimulate you.
"Holy f-fuck Choso." You whispered, leaving your hands in his hair and running them through your own, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You took a quick look around in the post haze of your orgasm and noticed how foggy the windows were, so much for trying not to be obvious; anyone with half a brain would know what was going on if they walked past your car.
After he made sure he licked you clean, he pulled his face back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, raising his body to sit comfortably on the seat as his other large hand came to caress your thigh soothingly. "Was that okay?" He asked, looking at you like a puppy.
"Okay?" You repeated, astonished he was asking as if he didn't just witness how hard you came, "I'm pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life." You laughed, making him smile at your words as your hand came down on top of his while he was petting your thigh. "Thank felt so good Choso, thank you." You said blushing as you closed your legs, noticing how exposed you were in comparison to him.
Of course, he picked up on this, he reached over to pick up your previously discarded panties from the floor of the car, wiping them off before he handed them, alone with your pants, to you. You said your thanks to him and he nodded shyly, a stark difference to how he was acting moments ago. It wasn't till you were almost finished getting dressed again when you noticed his massive boner. How did you not see it before? You felt so bad for letting him sit like that for god knows how long.
"Choso, you're hard." You said, stating the obvious. The man blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his hard-on to cover it. "Let me take care of it for you." You offered, leaning your body over his and placing your hands on his toned thighs, "I-Its okay-" His warm hands came down to grab your forearms, stopping you. "What? Really? It doesn't look okay," You giggled, looking up between your lashes at him.
Of course, he wanted you to get him off, that sounded perfect, but he needed to properly take care of you first. Your legs were still trembling and you were still out of breath, on top of that he could tell you were tired; that orgasm had taken a lot out of you, so he could wait. "Don't worry about me, I'll go down." He assured, rubbing his hands on your wrists soothingly and making you hum. "I still need to clean you up and make sure you're okay." He finished, making you blush. No man has ever said that to you before, and no man has ever eaten you out before tonight either but you wouldn't tell Choso that right now.
Truthfully, you were feeling tired, and the prospect of Choso cleaning you up didnt sound half bad right now, "Are you sure? It really wont take long." You offered one last time. He smiled and pushed your arms off of his thighs so he could leave the car, "Im sure, some other time." He said boldly, making you nod silently as he opened the car door and stepped out.
You started to do the same but his voice stopped you in your tracks, "Don't move." He ordered, so you didn't. It didn't take long after he shut his own door that he was opening yours, Choso now standing in front of you as he leaned inside the car and scooped you into his arms, making you giggle as he slammed the door behind him. "Choso! I can walk." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you in a princess carry.
"Don't wanna take any chances, your legs are still trembling pretty hard." He said, making you blush and want to hide away at his exposing words. "I think you're the sweetest man I'll ever know." You said to him, smiling at his blushing face as he quickly avoided his eyes with yours. He moved his hand to effortlessly type in your door code as he brought the both of you inside, away from the chilly air.
I better be, he wanted to say, but opted to only acknowledge your words with a hum as the front door clicked shut behind the both of you.
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