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vasito-de-leche · 2 days ago

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B-Baby Saja dating hcs, please and thank you. I have no money, but I have my love and support!! 🥹👉👈

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS BABY - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Baby (Baby Saja) in a romantic relationship.

no problem anon, all we ask is for your heart and soul, nothing too big!

Okay, hear me out. I know it's common to portray maknaes as sweethearts, the cute ones that make you squeal with their adorable antics, but I really like the idea that the roles given to each of the Saja Boys are somewhat ironic--Jinu being the leader, the figure of someone you can rely on and that keeps things stable being actually a liar and selfish person only looking out for himself, Romance being all about love but being unable to truly accept nor commit to a relationship, etc etc. So when it comes to Baby, I like the idea that his cute antics are mostly an act.

He and Mystery are the most difficult members to approach in a romantic context, simply because they have no interest in anyone outside of the band.

The difference between them is that Mystery believes any connection he makes cannot be genuine for many, many reasons, while Baby just doesn't think anyone is interesting enough to let them stick around. He likes the superficial attention and compliments that he can get just by rapping and making cute faces, those are easily accessible! He dislikes the idea of anyone expecting something out of him, the pressure of living up to someone else's idea of him--the vibe I want to portray with Baby is that of someone who is too childish to realize that relationships are a two-way thing, who struggles to understand that some people are worth the effort.

I mentioned in my previous Saja Boys posts that the only way for most of them to be in a relationship right away is through a publicity stunt--being in a fake relationship with Baby takes a lot of patience, due to him going hot and cold, back and forth constantly. Sometimes he has fun pretending to be your boyfriend, sometimes he gets fed up with keeping up with the cutesy nicknames and ignores you for days on end. Sometimes he's blowing up your DMs, asking if he's done anything wrong, why are you ignoring him? Don't you want to hang out anymore? By the way, you still owe him money for that lunch date the other day.

Ideally, for Baby to start considering a relationship, he would first need to consider the idea of opening up to someone as a friend; I think that anyone looking to be close with Baby needs to be someone full of surprises, who can keep up with his moodiness and all of his whims.

There are a million fans who would love to spoil him rotten after all, he can get those any day. But someone who can keep him on his toes? Bite back with comebacks that leave him speechless? That's rare. That's new and fun. I do think that Baby gravitates towards people who are most similar to him, hence why he had no problem following Jinu--game recognizes game, both are people who live for themselves.

And once you have Baby's attention, it becomes easy to earn his approval. He likes you, so obviously you should get the same privileges as him!

He teaches you how to pull the perfect pouty face to get away with anything, how to cry on command and where the hottest hidden spots in town are, always making sure you get the best VIP treatment. Even if you're not into the life of luxury that idols live, he still insists that you keep him company, it's fine if you don't want to buy designer clothes or fun novelty trinkets for yourself, but you have to be there when he shows off his new outfits or this new drone he's bought.

And trust me, he WILL show off in front of all of your friends and family, Baby is the type of person who would LOVE to show up unprompted to a family dinner just so everyone at the table can gawk at the two of you because holy shit you're dating THE Baby Saja?

Movig on to their demon aspects, dating Abby involves slowly coming to see more of his animalistic and demonic impulses, all of the sides he cannot keep hidden because of how excited he is to be in a relationship--but with Baby, it's more like you're finally privy to all the things that happen behind the scenes, like you're in on the joke. His attitude doesn't change a lot, but it's like you're able to see him in a brand new light either way, understanding all the little details because he finally allowed you into his world.

I like to think that Baby's struggle as a demon, or the reason he became one in the first place, is related to how guarded and childish he seems to be--someone who was raised to be great, couldn't live up to those expectations and yet demanded the rewards either way because this is what he was raised for, this was what was promised to him. Why deny him everything now? Why force him on a path with no escape, only to toss him aside like that?

This is why it's harder for Baby to let anyone in, why he struggles with expectations and responsibility of any kind and why he becomes so fiercely overprotective and territorial of anyone that manages to slip into his heart.

When Baby falls in love, he unconsciously becomes extremely clingy with you; sometimes it's his casual cute maknae antics, sometimes it's giving the nastiest looks to anyone who distracts you from paying attention to him, sometimes it's whining into your arms about how you're leaving him alone too often, he wants your opinion on his next rap! Do you wanna hear it? It's a diss track on this guy you both hate! He genuinely doesn't notice he does this, more focused on finding ways and excuses to be with you.

Following his instincts as a demon but lacking the actual drive to get himself physically involved, Baby would have no issue pulling a few strings to somehow push anyone he deems annoying or a threat to your friendship and relationship with him out of the picture--in fact, I can see him fully believing he's doing you a favor by weeding out those who might be a bad influence on you. These people? They want to change you, to force you to do things you don't want! What the fuck is a 9 to 5 job, that sounds awful!

Whereas Abby becomes drunk in the positive feelings you inflict on him, focusing on how to make you happy because you make him happy, Baby focuses more on how to ensure you don't leave him, nor experience any of the things he's lived through. Depending on how close Jinu is with all the members, I can see Baby somewhat adapting the mentality that all demons deserve is to swallow in their own misery for all eternity, but it doesn't extend to you.

Moving on to less intense topics, it's pretty easy for fans to spot when he gets serious about you; he simply stops posting about you as often on his social media. All the cute pictures he takes of you or the two of you together are for his eyes only.

Once you two settle into the relationship, you can pretty much figure out what he wants or is going to say with just a single text. He sends "Hiiii ❤️✨" and you already know he's going to say that if he was a worm, you'd obviously love him but that he'd want you to also be a worm with him.

Another fun headcanon I have about Baby is that he's pretty much a brat and all, but he's not immune to you and basically folds super easily without even realizing--not when it comes to things he likes and dislikes, mind you, there's no one on this planet who can make him do anything he hates, but if you happen to mention your favorite color, then Baby will find himself wearing more of it without noticing. If you mention you like sweets, he just happens to bring up your favorite snack during interviews, as if that had been his favorite brand all along.

#kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters saja boys #saja boys #baby #this grown ass demon is irritatingly and endearingly childish #my idea of romance is getting into blorbo's brain and explaining every little thing abt how blorbo forms connections. you guys know this #baby is like another ideal candidate for an enemies to lovers like jinu is. at least to me

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vamplvs · 2 days ago

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I WANT SOMEONE BADLY

INCLUDES -> bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader WARNINGS -> jealousy, pining, alcohol, bradley is an idiot (lovingly) WORD COUNT -> 4.7k SUMMARY -> bradley has long since been the designated performer for the daggers, and that's no different when he's jealous, pining, and well past tipsy.

NOTES -> i've been sitting on this for so long but here she finally is <3 it's a little corny, and a little trope-y, but i had a blast writing it. the songs are "layla" by derek & the dominos and "i want someone badly" by jeff buckley! originally the first song was going to be "slow hand" by the pointer sisters if anyone wants to give that one a listen, too. as always: comments & rbs are much appreciated, and my asks are open!

it's been a year now since the mission from hell, and everyone is scattered across the continent. hangman and coyote are stationed out in the midwest, bob and phoenix are in south carolina, and everyone else has found a new crew.

you and bradley have been lucky enough to stay stationed in san diego. bradley, of course, is still flying with the navy, while you spend your days teaching at top gun. safe to say, the two of you have stayed close between the occasional movie night, brunches with mav, and beach days—when you have a day off anyways. when you don't, bradley finds a way to visit you at top gun despite it.

it isn't easy to coordinate yearly leave among the rest of the crew, but when they finally manage it during the dead of summer, the hard deck is already full of life. people crowd around the bar and the tables, chatting and laughing over the music.

bradley catches the wide grins on mav and penny's faces when they see the daggers walking in, ready to wreak havoc. their smiles only grow wider when the group pulls mav into a group hug, bradley leading the charge.

it's the first time in a long time that they're all in the same place at the same time, and hell if it isn't making people nostalgic. there's some classic rock song from mav's old piloting days ringing through the jukebox. hangman has, predictably, started up a betting pool around the billiards table, dragging mickey, javy, and a reluctant bob with him. the others hover in their own circles, leaving you, natasha, and bradley to catch up at one of the high tops.

it's been exciting talking to her again after so many months have passed. she and bob have been stationed out in south carolina, and it comes with story after story about the antics that the two of them get up to—well, more like the ones natasha pulls bob into.

by the time you decide to get more drinks for the three of you, your stomach is aching from laughter.

bradley just watches as you wander up to the bar. he takes in the sway of your hips, your easy confidence, all of it.

"still haven't done anything about that, then?" natasha asks, leveling a deeply accusatory look at him.

"about what?"

"rooster, you can't be serious." when he looks at her incredulously, she bursts into laughter. "oh, come on, you two have been dancing around each other for a year now! we all see it."

his ears go pink. "that's not-"

"oh, don't you deny it. i have eyes."

"i am serious!" bradley is sure you have no interest. it's been a year—more than that if you include your time at top gun together and a few sparse meetings between that and the big reunion last year—and he's been quietly pining all the while. if there was even a chance with you, he would have taken it by now.

"whatever you say," she replies, her head turning to you.

and when bradley follows suit, he sees you standing all-too close to a man at the bar. he's tall, classically handsome—all in all, the kind of guy you'd expect to see in a rom-com—and he stands so close that his arm is nearly brushing yours. you laugh and smile at something he says, and the hand he puts on your arm sends a chill through bradley. it sinks like a pit in his stomach, churning through the several beers he's had and their subsequent buzz.

the chill turns into a sickening haze when he sees the man pass you a napkin that surely has his number on it.

"told you so," bradley mutters, turning away to face the game of eight-ball that jake is still running. the clattering of the balls and the cheers are more than enough to drown out the pulse roaring in his ears.

he entirely misses your polite rejection, the way you nod your head back to the team, and the hop in your step when you finally turn to bring the drinks back.

"ugh, sorry i took so long. poor penny is still teaching mav to make cocktails," you say with a laugh when you return. you hand them their beers with little ceremony, before following bradley's eye line. "bagman still running the betting pool?"

"you know it," bradley replies, keeping his eyes locked ahead of him. the thought of seeing that man's number in your hand makes his palms sweat.

"you'd think he'd learn that bob kicks his ass every time." that makes bradley and natasha laugh. "his entire job is aiming a laser at a tiny pinprick, pool is no big deal."

"and yet, he insists on betting against him," nat sighs.

the night continues with more drinks, more pool, and more stories from their deployments. jake tells some story about his greatest exploits—which javy quickly interrupts by informing the entire team just how spectacularly jake fumbled only a week later. the team laughs, and it's back to business as usual.

eventually, javy and jake push bradley to the piano, insisting he play something good—citing the first time they were all at the hard deck together. nostalgia is one hell of a drug after a few beers. he warms up, hammering down a few notes and a glissando into an opening chord.

the bar's attention is caught on him and the piano. a handful of older couples immediately recognize the song, standing to dance—which would include penny and mav if they weren't manning the bar. but they sway to the song, mav against penny's back with his arms around her waist. he whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh.

"what'll you do when you get lonely and nobody's waiting by your side?"

your eyes are stuck on bradley, too. his glasses sit comfortably on the end of his nose, his standard patterned button up is open, and he bleeds a confidence so easy that it's impossible to take your eyes off him. he looks good doing what he loves, and he knows it. and maybe there's some self-satisfied part of him deep down that's pleased to see how he's stolen you're attention.

"you've been running and hiding much too long you know it's just your foolish pride."

as he ramps up to the chorus, the bar is ready to sing along with him. "layla," they all cheer, you included.

"you've got me on my knees"

his eyes drift over to yours for just a fraction of a second, his wide grin splitting even wider before he flits his gaze away to where natasha, bob, and mickey are all shouting the lyrics. well, natasha and mickey shout the lyrics at bob, while he sort of mumbles them quietly, embarrassed by the attention.

it's only a few minutes of bradley performing, but with the pressure of your eyes on him, it feels like an eternity. he's not sure he's ever been more aware of who he's looking at when he sings. there's a woman who has sidled up to the piano, singing every lyric with tequila on her breath, and it takes everything in him not to roll his eyes at her and find yours in the crowd.

he finishes the song with one final, dramatic chord, and the bar erupts into cheers. his eyes lock onto yours and you tip your drink toward him like a salute, whooping along with the rest of the bar. you gesture to the space next to him with a raised brow, and he turns to see the same woman from before leaning against the piano with a nearly empty cocktail glass in her hand.

she introduces herself, but bradley's mind is elsewhere. his eyes scan the space you were just in to find you gone. were you really playing wingman just now? the woman is saying something about his hands, but bradley can't care less, not with your apparent disappearing act. he excuses himself politely, ignoring her pout and the way her friends urge her to find another guy to hit on.

people are packed tightly around him, patting him on the back and clapping for him. he smiles politely in return. the longer he searches for you the more concerned he gets. you aren't by the bar or with the rest of the team by the pool table. hell, he doesn't even find you by the jukebox despite the ever changing cycle of music it goes through.

when he finally takes a step outside, he sees you sitting at the stairs leading down to the beach. it's a lot quieter outside, with the chaos and noise of the hard deck trapped within its walls. you're mindlessly twirling your drink in your glass.

"nice playing in there," you say with a glance over your shoulder.

"thanks," he says simply, taking a seat next to you. his glasses hang from the neckline of his old, white tank. the silence between you is thick, and right when he's going to break it by saying something that'll probably be stupid, you interrupt.

"no luck with that girl?" bradley is taken aback.

"what?" your eyes stay focused on the beach in front of you. the crash of every wave is steady and familiar.

"she spent the entire song singing at you, rooster," you tap your shoulder against his in what's supposed to be a playful gesture, but it falls flat.

"oh, yeah," he responds dumbly, "dunno, she's not really my type." he nearly winces as he hears himself say it.

you fall silent again, and bradley joins you in it. it's not uncomfortable, necessarily, but it's heavy. there's so much more he wants to say. that she's not his type because you are, because he's spent a year looking into your eyes, laughing at your jokes, going warm when your hands touch him. that he's spent a year wishing he could say something to you without messing what you have up.

it took ages for you two to get to where you are with the easy banter and the quiet movie nights. the two of you have spent long enough laughing about your almost-rivalry back in your top gun days that he knows you care about this friendship just as much as he does. and the last thing he wants to do is lose that by running his mouth.

"i should get going," you say. "i have to prep for next week's classes."

bradley watches as you leave for a second time that night, mumbling a quiet goodbye after you.

on leave, the team spends time exploring san diego again. they go to wine and beer tastings, try new cafes and restaurants, and even find the time to hike through the torrey pines natural reserve—that one is bob's request, and boy, does it deliver. it has the entire team winded by the end of it—except, miraculously, for bob, who brought a camera to take pictures with.

but bradley's favorite, of course, is the afternoon they spend at the beach in front of the hard deck. dogfight football is up and running the minute people put their bags down. jake just can’t resist the urge to goad people on, so bradley gets wrapped up in the competition, too. initially, it's shirts versus skins, but with the hot san diego sun beating down, everyone is stripped to their trunks pretty quickly, not that it does much to dissuade the heat from tearing through them.

all the while, you're trapped at top gun teaching classes until later in the day. bradley's not even sure you'll be able to make it with the way things have been going with the new class of pilots. so, he puts you out of his mind, focusing on the game at hand—and how badly he wants to knock jake down on his ass just to teach him a lesson about talking shit.

when penny brings out lemonade for everyone, the sun is still bright overhead and unbearably hot. bradley's skin is sticky with sweat, and he holds the icy glass to his cheek with a sigh. sitting on his towel with the drink in his hand is easily the best decision he’s made all day. natasha takes no time in jogging over to him with a smug grin.

"saw you chase the love of your life outside after layla the other night," she sips on her lemonade like it proves something.

"she's not the love of my life-"

"oh, yeah? then why do you follow her around like a lost puppy?" he doesn't have a response for that and clears his throat, trying to pretend that his ears aren't burning. "she totally dug it."

"nat, she tried to set me up with another girl. i got wing-manned." the memory of your raised eyebrow and the way you asked if he had any luck with her make his stomach churn.

natasha snorts. "oh, please, if she was actually wing-manning you, she wouldn't have run outside to avoid the aftermath." bradley tries to formulate some kind of intelligent response, but gets cut off by natasha perking up. "speak of the devil!"

bradley turns to see you walking over with your towel in hand. he tries not to stare, god, he tries. but you're wearing a button up you borrowed from him months ago, and it's open over your bathing suit. there's something about that and the shorts you're wearing that makes the blush spread from his ears to his cheeks and down his neck. you look unfairly good in his clothes.

"all good things i hope!" you reply with a smile so bright bradley swears you've stolen the sun for yourself. natasha is quick to pull you into a hug—one that you're ready to reciprocate.

"rooster was just telling me how much he misses you," she nudges him, and he has to fight the urge to strangle natasha.

"it's only been a week, bradshaw, missing me that bad already?" you toss down your beach towel and sit next to him, still laughing at her words.

he tries to play it off with a shrug. "what can i say? i've been spoiled." natasha gives you a cryptic look that he can't decipher. as a matter of fact, he doesn't even get the chance to try before jake is calling everyone to the shoreline for a rematch. half the beach groans, complaining about the heat, and the other half start up their goading once more.

“c’mon, rooster, afraid of getting your ass handed to you?” jake calls, tossing the football in the air in a way so cocky only he could manage it.

you laugh when natasha drags him over to jake, already placing a pair of sunglasses over your eyes to sit and watch from afar. he shrugs apologetically at you. "get his ass, bradshaw!" you cheer.

the game only officially ends when the sun starts to set. it's been on and off for the rest of the afternoon, with people taking breaks to swim and cool off throughout. somehow, you and bradley never quite end up in the same place at the same time. it isn't until everyone is packed back into the hard deck that you get the chance to talk properly.

the two of you sit at a high top by the end of the pool table, drinks in hand once more as the team's usual chaos unfolds around you. it’s like a do-over of the week before: the betting pool going strong around the billiards table, the same old rock songs playing through the jukebox, and you and bradley tucked into a corner of your own.

"i thought you said you weren't going to make it today," he prompts, looking at you over his beer.

"that was before the admiral interrupted with some group punishment for breaking the hard deck," you say with a laugh.

"oh, you've got a maverick, then?" he nods his head over to where mav is desperately trying to wipe down a spill on the bar top that he no doubt caused.

"something like that," you reply, "there's always some kind of rivalry at top gun, but these two..." bradley laughs at your grimace.

"no worse than us, i hope." he taps his bottle against your glass in a mock toast.

"bradley, they are so much worse." he watches you launch into some story about your students, your smile echoed on his face.

and so conversation flows along with the drinks, the two of you wrapped up in your own world until jake—being the bastard he is—interrupts to drag bradley away to the billiards table. for a second time that day, bradley is pulled away from you against his will.

he is going to tear jake to shreds for this, beers be damned.

he relishes in your cheers whenever he knocks the stripes into the pockets. until your attention is taken from him, that is.

somehow, between his turn and the next, the same man from the weekend before has found his way to the table bradley left you at. he's taken up bradley's seat and is apparently content to just chat you up without any care for the rest of the crew observing this newcomer to their night out. even bob is prickling at his presence.

and if bradley breaks when the next game starts with a little more force than strictly necessary, no one says anything about it. if he plays a little harder, if he's a little snappier, every time he looks over and that man is closer to you, then quite frankly, it isn't anyone's business but his.

he drops his cue on the table and marches off to get another drink when he sees you lean in to hear the guy better. he hears jake call after him, but he pays him no heed. god, he needs another beer if he's going to put up with this tonight, too.

mav gets bradley a drink with a raised eyebrow. "trouble with the girl?" mav asks, nodding over to where you're sitting.

"how'd you-"

"bradley, i've known you since you were a kid," he responds like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "just say something."

"it's not that simple, mav, she's..." bradley trails off. perfect? is that what he means? unattainable? uninterested? he takes a long swig from his beer, a comfortable buzz settling in his chest. whether that's the beer or the thought of you, he's not sure.

"if you want to keep pining, that's on you." mav shrugs. "but take it from me, doing something about it is better than nothing."

"now you're playing wingman?" mav scoffs at that, but it doesn't have any heat.

"i'm trying to play dad, but whatever works for you, kid."

bradley goes quiet and lets mav get to the other patrons asking for drinks—which he is almost certainly going to ask penny for help with. he watches as they dance around each other gracefully, like despite mav's inexperience behind a bar, he knows exactly where penny's going to move. he watches the gentle hand that mav puts on her waist, and christ, he's in deep. all he can think about is you.

he thinks back to that movie night you had a few months ago. the two of you maneuvered around your small kitchen making popcorn and hot chocolate. he had pulled the same stunt—a hand on your waist to guide you out of his way. a hand that you hadn't pulled away from. he remembers the warmth of you next to him and your smile when you finally got to curl up on the couch with a warm mug and an oversized bowl of popcorn between you.

he thinks about the brunches you've had with mav and penny, and how they almost felt like dates. you had made a joke about getting introduced to the parents so soon, and the tips of bradley's ears had gone warm. if he were introducing you as his girlfriend, it would have gone spectacularly. you hit it off with mav immediately, somehow. even though you technically had met him before at top gun, there was a difference between captain pete “maverick” mitchell and mav, the closest thing bradley has to a father—even if he’d never outright say it to mav’s face. but getting that man friendly outside of a plane-related situation was a feat he could have kissed you for.

he thinks to last week. the grin on your face when he looked at you while he was playing, while he sang at you—no, sang to you.

and that's precisely where the too-loud, too-tipsy, only slightly jealous part of bradley's mind kicks straight into overdrive. he slams back the rest of his beer and takes a glance over his shoulder to where you're sitting. the man still sits across from you, but like you sense him looking, your eyes meet his with a concerned furrow to your brow. he's not sure how long he's been standing at the bar, but based on the look you give him, it's been long enough.

he turns and marches over to the jukebox, unplugging it unceremoniously. the bar lurches into a chorus of groans until bradley takes a seat at the piano.

"now i-" he starts, his voice ringing into the near silent bar.

"i want someone badly"

the first chord he strikes on the piano summons a round of whoops from the pool table.

"got a girl here tonight, want someone new"

he pretends not to notice the way your attention is focused on him again, pretends that the heat on his face is from beer and beer alone. his head is down, intent on staring holes into the piano keys. couples around the bar are starting to sway together, and he dreads the thought of you getting up with the guy you've found. he's sure that the man is offering you a hand right about now, that you'll take it, and bradley will have to walk off to drown his wounds with another drink.

"'cause i, i cry all over madly don't do anything, do it for me."

the daggers have found themselves by the piano, arms thrown over shoulders and swaying. they sing along and it's a small comfort in a sea of strangers. he hears natasha's voice above all, singing the lyrics with a passion that she always carries with her when he does this.

"i wanna know am i sure that i have your love?"

and that's when bradley figures it's a good idea to look out into the crowd that's around him. it's cruel how easily he can find your eyes amongst the throng. you stand a ways away from him, alone and glowing under the warm lights of the hard deck. your mouth is slightly parted, but he can't figure out if its shock or something else. and then there's that look in your eye. he'd almost believe you're in love with him.

or maybe bradley's just drunk.

"if you're leaving, just make sure it's right now i want someone badly"

the crowd cheers when he hits a high note, but his eyes are locked on the way your jaw clamps shut.

"could it be true that someone is you?"

the final chord rings out along with varied forms of praise from those around him. natasha asks him a question, but he's already on his way outside before he can hear it properly. adrenaline is crackling through him viciously, bringing a shake to his hand that he hasn't felt since he first started training in the flight sims.

he sits on the steps of the hard deck with a thud. the porch is blessedly empty, leaving him to process exactly what he just did. the cool ocean breeze is doing wonders to sober him up. or maybe that's the dread pooling in his stomach. he can't tell anymore.

did he seriously just fucking serenade you? what kind of rom-com bullshit-

"you um, you played really well in there." your voice, gentle and soothing, pulls him from his spiral, and his head whips around to face you.

"thanks," he replies shortly, and his tone makes himself wince. there’s a distinct sense of deja-vu that hits bradley suddenly, like he’s entered some fucked up kind of parallel universe. the two of you stand awkwardly on opposite ends of the deck. your hands fidget, and tomorrow, bradley will surely blame the beers on the way his eyes linger on them.

it takes you another moment to move toward him, taking a seat by his side. you're so close that he can smell your perfume over the breeze, and isn't that just the cruelest trick yet? that he can't reach over to you and kiss you breathless, that he can't hold your hand in his. instead, he just sits miserably next to you, reliving his own stupid idea to play jeff buckley in the hard deck.

man, if he's thinking like this, he must really be gone.

"was that-" your voice cracks, "nat said i should come out and talk to you."

"of course she did." he picks at the corners of his nails.

"she said that was for me." your voice is indecipherable, and bradley's not sure he can stomach looking you in the eye right now.

he sighs, running a hand down his face. it's too hot out, now. the cool breeze from before has been sucked away by your presence.

"i just didn't want to see you with him, anymore," he mutters. there's another horrible, tense silence between you, and it's not one that he's in any rush to break.

"was that what this was? jealousy?" your voice is impossibly small.

"no, i-" jealousy made it sound like he had any kind of claim over you. jealousy sounded like he thought he had a chance at keeping the careful balance of his sanity and your friendship.

"so you sing that for all the girls in there, then?" you press, and in a world where he isn't head over heels for you, it would have been infuriating.

it still is infuriating, and bradley can't help but laugh.

"no, god, no." his laugh is shaky and a little dejected. he finally turns to face you, trying his damnedest to suck in every anxiety he has about this. he thinks, quite possibly, that this is the only time tonight he's been grateful for the alcohol.

that same heavy silence fills the air between you.

your eyes are wide when he looks at you, filled with something unreadable and maybe a bit of hope. his eyes flit between yours, and maybe, just for a moment, they linger on how your lips are upturned ever so slightly.

"just kiss me already, bradley."

and he does. by god, he does, and it's like a breath of fresh air. your lips are soft against his, and if it's a little clumsy, he doesn't mind. not when his hand is on your cheek, and yours is in his hair, and you taste like heaven on earth. the kiss lasts a lifetime, or it feels that way to bradley, anyways. it's the entire year he's spent wishing to be by your side wrapped into one small moment.

when you finally pull away from him, the two of you are panting. your foreheads rest against each other, and bradley can't seem to get his hands off you. the same one stays on your cheek and rubs small circles while the other is tentative against your waist. he's nearly giddy at holding you so close.

"you have any idea how long i've been waiting for you to do that?" you ask.

"probably about as long as i have," he replies with a hoarse voice.

"didn't think you were interested." you give him an incredulous look when he starts laughing, but that only makes him laugh harder.

"i should've listened to natasha so long ago." at that, you join him, head tilted back, and laugh into the sky. it's a long moment where the two of you giggle like schoolgirls outside the hard deck, and bradley wouldn't change it for the world. "think anyone will notice if we leave?"

you think for a moment and reply, "nat definitely will."

"she'll consider it a win." and that sends another round of laughs through you both.

the next morning, the team makes a plan to get brunch at a little cafe nearby, and if they notice that you and bradley arrive together and sit just a bit too close, no one says anything about it.

no one except for natasha, that is.

she finally catches a moment with bradley alone when people are saying their goodbyes.

"you finally did something about your pining?" she asks, a grin already spreading across her face.

bradley shrugs, but the smile he dons is telling, and the gentle kiss he places against your temple when you walk over to him, even more so.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x you #top gun x you #bradley bradshaw headcanon #rooster headcanon #top gun headcanons #top gun maverick headcanons #miles teller x reader

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ovaryacted · 1 day ago

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I love the concept of Girl Dad!Pope. I feel like he would take play time really seriously. Fully invested in the tea party, or bringing stuffed animals to his daughter’s “vet clinic.” He buys her so many toys, books, etc. and probably stays up late after she’s gone to bed to organize them 😂

─ Girl Dad! Pope Cody x fem! reader || WC: 1.4k

CW: FLUFF. Pope is a good dad! Daughter at different ages (months old to 4 years old). Daughter is unnamed. Daughter has Pope's hair, freckles, & eyes (carbon copy). Reader & Pope are in an established relationship.

Thank you for sending this in for a blurb idea, anon! This initially started as something silly and playful and it got real emotional towards the end, my eyes got watery reading it through lol. I hope you all like this little piece on Girl Dad! Pope cause talking about him means a lot to me. <3

It started with the whale plushie he got his daughter when she was just a couple of months old, spotting it in the toy section on a shopping trip, grabbing it along the way. As she got older over her first year of life, Pope carefully watches over her for things she might be interested in, to try to figure out what are the things that bring her joy, not including her own parents.

She was fond of sea animals, he soon figures out, and whether intentionally or unintentionally, Pope ransacks an entire toy store with all of the sea creature toys he could find. He doesn't overdo it of course, he leaves some things behind for customers for the next day, that's as considerate as he was going to get anyway. But when you walk into your daughter's bedroom and spot the wide selection of sharks, turtles, and jellyfish laying around the floor, you only squint at Pope.

"Andrew...where on Earth did these come from?"

"That toy store along the strip." He says it so calmly with a shrug, currently categorizing the plushies in order of importance based on how much his daughter smiled after he showed them to her one by one.

"Andy, she's not even a year old yet, you know?"

As if she knew she was the topic of conversation, your daughter's head pops up from her crib, her hands keeping her steady on the railing, staring between the two of you in curiosity.

"At least now we're prepared. Nothing wrong with that." He hides his smile, not an ounce of remorse or guilt on his face, not that he had anything to feel guilty about.

You don't argue with him, there's nothing to argue about. You simply plant a kiss on his cheek and reach to hold your baby girl for a little while, who was more than excited about all of the new joyful faces in her bedroom.

As she gets older, Pope's spending habits don't really stop. Well, he doesn't really "spend" money necessarily, you just end up finding new things around the house that you knew are because of him.

A new doll house. A kitchen playset. A mini doctor's set. A mini pink electric lamborghini.

You never got angry about him doing this, about spoiling your little girl because you know it's more than him just getting her things. Whatever she wants, it's a yes from him, when most of his life he was so used to being told no. No, you're not enough. No, you're not wanted. He's remedying his troubled past through his daughter, so you let him fill your house with toys that your child is more than happy to use on a daily basis.

Andrew becomes even more dedicated to his daughter's playtime once she knights him as an active participant.

You've caught him a handful of times sitting at her too-small tea table, thick fingers holding a plastic cup as delicately as he could. His broad figure looked utterly squished in the small chair he managed to fit the rest of his body into, and you'd laugh if you didn't know how much this meant to him. He wasn't the only one sitting at the table, several of your daughter's plushies that she's collected over the years make up her party of elite guests. Leaning against the doorway, you simply watch the two of them interact, how your daughter refills all of her patron's cups, and hands her father a plastic muffin for him to munch on.

"Having fun without me?" You question out loud, mirroring your daughter's smile when she stands up to run towards you.

"Mommy! Me and daddy are playing!" She says to the best of her ability, her fourth birthday just creeping around the corner. You run a hand through her auburn curls, straightening the tiara on her head and the superhero cape trailing behind her.

"I can see that, baby. Is daddy being a nice guest?"

"Yes. He's eating the muffin. Look!" She turns her head to point at Andrew, and you bite your inner cheek to suppress your chuckle.

He pays you no mind, fake-munching his muffin and humming in satisfaction at the taste. His face was as serious as ever, wearing the same signature scowl he fell in love with, but you could tell from the way his shoulders slouched he was calm, relaxed, safe.

"Do you want tea too, Mommy?" You hear your daughter ask, holding one of your hands and pulling you further into her mess of a room. You knew Andrew will have a fun time cleaning all of this up.

"The tea's good." Pope says in the light monotone voice you were familiar with, drinking in his hazel eyes as he fondly stares at you. "You should join us for the party." He holds out his big hand for you to take, and you gladly did, giving him an upwards quirk of your lips.

"Alright, alright. I'll stay for some tea. Where do I sit?"

Your favorite things to witness must be Pope being so devoted to your baby girl’s bedtime routine. It always started with a bath, one he was a part of since his daughter was young enough to be near running water. He made sure to use the bubble bath mixture that instantly calmed his daughter down, a mix of lavender and oatmeal filling the tiled room. He ignores the ache in his knees digging into the tile below him as he splashes water over his daughter’s head, wiping the water away from her hazel eyes, dryly chuckling when she dunks her rubber duck under the bubbles that surround her.

Drying her down, moisturizing her skin, and dressing her in some light green pajamas, he brings her to her toddler bed, setting her down and drawing back the sheets to let her get comfortable before tucking her in. Pope grabs one of the books in her expansive bookshelf, picking up Goodnight Moon, her personal favorite, and he sits on the opposite end of her small bed, mindful of the weight he puts against the frame.

His daughter stares at him as he repeats the words on the page, one open palm holding the book open while the other rubs her feet, squeezing here and there so she feels his presence. Pope’s calm words swirl in the four walls of her bedroom, keeping an even cadence after every passage.

Goodnight stars. Goodnight air. Goodnight noises everywhere.

It doesn’t take long for his daughter to fall fast asleep, her breaths slow as she falls deep into slumber. Pope takes a second longer to just look at her, to take in the way freckles were already appearing over her round cheeks and the bridge of her nose, the dark red curls he had as a child now coiling over her head in wild patterns.

She was so much like him, and yet different in every sense of the word. A part of him, a part of you; all of the intricacies that made you as humans mixed together in one final act of love to breathe new life to the world, birthing a new reality he never thought he could have.

Andrew stands up with a shaky breath, bending down to quickly plant a kiss on his daughter’s forehead, turning off the lights after double checking the baby monitor and nightlight were still on. He closes the door to her bedroom with a soft click, striding into your bedroom where you were waiting for him dressed in one of his baggy t-shirts and sleep shorts.

“She’s asleep?” You ask him, to which he nods. You don’t jerk away when he comes towards you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, resting his head along the side of your neck and simply breathing you in.

Your hands rub over his shoulders, kissing his temple and breathing with him, whispering those three words over and over again for as long as he needed to hear them. He’ll never fully declare the amount of gratitude he has towards you for loving him this way, for giving him a family that wants him, for saving him.

But you knew Andrew, as much as you knew Pope; you knew him. He didn’t need to tell you how much he loved you, you see it every day with how he worships you, and how he pours so much of himself in the child you created like that was all he knew, what he was born to do. You wouldn’t trade him or this life for anything, and holding him like this as he listens to your pulse flutter underneath him is all the declaration of love you needed.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

#andrew pope cody #pope cody x reader #andrew cody x reader #pope cody imagine #pope cody headcanons #girl dad! pope cody #animal kingdom #shawn hatosy #ovaryacted asks #ovaryacted drabbles #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

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ptej1980 · 16 hours ago

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Perception…If you know you know

It has been interesting to watch the different reactions to IG stories and posts over the last week. There is 4 groups of people that I can gather.

1. Lukola strong- Those who are in the know, have done their research do not fall for the smoke and mirrors or misdirection, and have been in it for the long haul. They are critical thinkers, and understand the bigger picture

2. The easily swayed, the jumpers, the unsure and flip floppers that go from ship to ship anytime new story posts come out. Regardless of how little any of it makes sense, no matter how many examples of intimacy and connection Lukola have they have no confidence in what they see or have seen. The drama and trolling seems to be something they enjoy.

3. The Sub fandom zombies who are just regurgitating what they are fed by SM and tabloid trash. They are the current discord zombies who are currently thirsting over pictures of an underage JD 🤮 it is disturbing and creepy, stalker like behaviour led by the red menace.

4. The oblivious- those who have no idea what is going on and do not care. I sometimes envy them. Because when Lukola eventually launch they will enjoy it with out having gone through all the drama . If you look at either social media pages of Nic and Luke as someone who is oblivious you would definitely see a connection between the two of them, and no one else.

I am 💯 sure that if you are reading this you are a number 1 or 4. I hope I haven’t offended anyone but I think at this point it is laughable 🤭

We get pics of Nic and Luke in Adelaide ( yes Lukola FBI I believe in their skills and analysis). Which is then followed up with a chaos week group of stories by Nic.

Her rainbow bestie in Adelaide posting a similar hotel, yep possible same hotel, same room yeh nah…like every thing vague and unconfirmed except his love for his co stars in WIFLFAG.

With 🐜, well she has nothing of interest except 4 pics of the same dress in an empty luxury hotel. The funny thing is the plastic cup on the ground. If she was actually a guest I am guessing the “luxury hotel “ could at least get her a real glass. No sign of any people there of significance, no tags. A shadow of someone who was probably her dad. Nothing. I don’t have to say but if she was actually in a relationship with someone you would think that she could post 1 pic, story, anything but…..no.

I feel like most of us do think that we might be coming to endgame which is really exciting. After Nics stories the stroller pic, Luke’s IG clean out, all the signs are there. I don’t think it is going to be a smooth ride but we have weathered every storm and always come out on top. Ring Truthers unite, until the reveal.

#don’t believe everything you see #if you don’t like it don’t read it.#adjacents out #ring truthers unite #until the reveal

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randomfandomswriting · 1 day ago

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Mingi x Plus Size fem!Reader

When a secret crush on your friend leads to something more.

———

A/N: This came to me in a dream lol. I couldn’t help but think how Mingi would handle a bigger girl so I wanted to write something for us! (i am a bigger girl) So here it is! Please let me know what you think even if you’re Anon in my messages! and if you have any other one shot ideas (even fluff or angsty) im currently writing for Yunho/Mingi from Ateez and Yugyeom/Jackson/Mark from Got7… anyway i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI. unprotected sex (do not do this IRL this is fiction). Nothing too aggressive or rough, more passionate. in case it’s not clear: this is a work of FICTION.

Saturday night’s at Mingi’s apartment became a regular occurrence. It had been for months and tonight was no different. There were always snacks, drinks, and a good movie. The two of you would sit side by side and watch a familiar favorite and sometimes when feeling bold something new. You always looked forward to spending time with him, and if you were being honest you had a big crush on him. He didn’t seem to know, even though all your friends could figure it out. You wouldn’t dare tell him. How embarrassing would that be? To be rejected would mean things could or would change between you, and for now being his friend was good enough.

“That new girl at work asked me out.” He said sometime halfway through the movie, and your attention snapped to him. Watching as he put popcorn into his mouth.

“The one you were telling me about?” You ask. It had been a week or two since she started. Mingi told you all about how she’d follow him around the office and try to talk to him during lunch. He seemed unphased when he talked about it, but now it was interesting.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, placing the popcorn on his coffee table, “Tonight actually.” You felt your stomach churn.

“Oh” You managed throat going dry, sending you reaching for your drink, needing the alcohol to burn your throat so you didn’t say anything that sounded like a hint of jealousy. “Why didn’t you go? Can you still meet up with her? I can totally leave?”

He let out a short laugh, “Y/n, Saturday’s are our nights.”

You let out a short laugh too, your head spinning, “But Min… You could’ve skipped tonight if you wanted to go out with that girl… what does she look like anyway?”

He shrugged, “She has… blonde hair?” He furrowed his brows, “Honestly I don’t know… and besides that I didn’t want to go with her.”

You tried to mask the giant smile spreading across your lips, he clearly wasn’t interested in her, you tried to push, just to see. “Is she your type? Is she tall… thin? What color eyes?”

“Woah… I need to speak to my lawyer before an interrogation.” He chuckles, his deep voice rumbling. “I don’t like her.” he said, “She’s not my type.”

A silent cheer erupts inside of you, but now you have more questions. You’d seen girls who practically threw themselves at Mingi. He was handsome and tall. He was sweet and kind. You tried to think of a time he’d gone home with a girl, what she looked like, but you couldn’t think of one.

“What is your type?” You ask, the movie long forgotten though his eyes were fixed on the screen. He shook his head, a laugh escaping his lips again, his eyes moving over to you.

“God,” He sighs, “What's with you tonight?” his voice is playful so you don’t back track.

“I just thought about how I’ve never seen you with a girl… you never talk about it if you’re with them…”

“You don’t talk about guys you see…” He retorts, and you laugh.

“I don’t see guys.” You reply, finishing your glass of soju and reaching for the bottle.

“Why not?” He asks, you shrug taking a swing from your glass and looking back at him. You look for a lie, something so you don’t have to tell him because I like you stupid boy.

“I hate guys.” You muse, which isn’t a lie. He laughs. “Okay so now you.”

“I don’t see girls because the ones that throw themselves at me aren’t my type.” You raise your brows. Beautiful women have thrown themselves at him, you’ve seen it before, watched them flip their beautiful hair and flash pearly white grins. You let out another laugh, he had to be lying, you thought.

“So then what is Song Mingi’s type?” You ponder, and he blushes, your eyes widen. “Min!” You slap him playfully, “Is there something you want to tell me?” This whole time right in front of you it was clear, Mingi didn’t have a type of woman. He clearly liked men.

“You’re my type.” The words left his mouth casually, as he reached for the rest of the soju. You let out a short laugh, because, well, you were in shock. You watched as he finished off the soju. Your cheeks flushed more red, your skin burns hot. Maybe he was joking. He had to be right?

You hadn’t moved, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You were frozen, and he made his way back. New bottle of soju in his hand. You just looked at him, and he took a few moments before looking at you.

“What?” He asked, “I- I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not.” you say quickly, “I’m not.”

“You’re the most silent I’ve ever heard.”

“I was just trying to see if you were joking.” He rolls his eyes, before they land on you.

“Why would I joke about that?” You sighed, maybe Mingi didn’t get it.

Growing up, in a bigger body meant things like that happened. You had to deal with people joking with you about dating or down right being disgusted by the idea. As you got older it became worse, with men wanting to keep you a secret, use you for sex, or meeting you and ghosting you soon after. That’s why you didn’t like to date. It was a mental torture.

“I just… I’m surprised.” You bring a hand over your face, “You’re just… You. and I’m me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mingi your a total babe.” You groan, “And I’m me.”

“You’re beautiful.” He snapped, “Every part of you. Including your sick little brain that tells you you’re not beautiful.” Your back to shock again, not to mention the butterflies he normally gave you felt more like giant birds. You had to pick your jaw up off the couch. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. And not just your looks either. Everything. You’re funny, smart, witty, kind… I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so since you don’t like me can we just please go back to watching the movie? We can forget I said anything, and just continue being friends.”

“And if I do like you?” The words leave your mouth faster than you can stop them, the soju giving you more courage that you would’ve had without it. He turns his head back toward you, now he’s in shock.

“Do you, really?” His brows furrow, and you hate how adorable he looks when confused. You nod, and watch as he closes the space between you, stopping to place his glass on the table, but his nose grazed yours. Your eyes flutter down and shut by the time his lips finally connect with yours, and it leaves you breathless. Still in shock it takes you a few seconds to take it in. The taste of soju on his tongue as it dips into your mouth leaves your head dizzy and your hands find his broad shoulders. Nails lightly digging into the fabric of his black t-shirt. His hands find the curves of your sides and more down to your hips, and though you usually hate it, you take comfort in the feeling of his big hands on you.

You had thought about what it would be like to kiss him for a while now, this was even better. He was good. He knew exactly how to move his lips and use his tongue, and you pulled him even closer to you, his body pressing against yours as your fingernails found the nape of his neck, gently running down his skin. He had done the same, daydreaming about kissing you, feeling your soft lips against his. He loved feeling your body, how soft you were in his hands, he loved feeling it when you even hugged him goodbye, this was heaven.

His hands moved up your curves fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt causing you to giggle, it tickled and you squirmed your lips parting from his.

“Is- Is that okay?” he asked and you nod, “We can stop if you want. Any time you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” You admit, blush creeping over your cheeks and he smirked, nudging you with his nose again, this time his fingers are hooking under your shirt, pulling it up over your head and you move to help him. Usually you’d feel like you needed to hide, but Mingi’s eyes on you made you want more of him. insecurity didn’t cross your mind as his lips met back with yours. He only lingered there for a few seconds, “You’re perfect.” he hums, his deep voice rolling out into your mouth making you move to kiss him. Your teeth gently nipping at his bottom lip, making him groan.

His lips only last there for a few more seconds before they’re moving down your neck and to your bare chest. His hands finding new places to grab and caress, your chest arching toward him involuntarily as he used his tongue to swipe against your warm skin. You couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the same spot he was kissing seconds ago. You moan as your body swells with heat. You notice the imbalance of clothes and reach to pull off his shirt, he moves to help you and clings back to your neck like two magnets snapping together. Your nails slide down his neck again, and over his shoulders and you can see the goosebumps that follow and he moans against your skin. You can feel him growing more and more hungry, his hands moving down your chest, a hand slipping under the waistband of your pants and between your thighs. You whimper your thighs parting to make room for him and his eyes find yours.

“So wet for me…” He rasps, “let me take you to my bedroom.” You nod rapidly, and he moves his hand to grab yours.

It’s a mad dash once you’re in there, your hands moving to his waistband as he moves to yours. He leans down to kiss you more, hungrier, sloppier than before. He gets your pants off and then his, before his big hands are back on you. He looks at you like a painting, and you’ve never felt more beautiful as his palms slowly move down your sides, every curve being caressed, his lips down your chest and stomach making you blush. He ends up on his knees in front of you and it makes your heart flutter to see his pretty eyes looking up at you. He looks so pretty on his knees, mouth ajar, lips swollen and pink, his tongue sweeping over them as he continues to admire every inch of you.

His fingers run up your legs and thighs and over the curves of your ass, where he gets a hand full and you giggle as his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down. “Can I taste you?” He asks and you nod, blushing as he nods for you to sit on his bed. You sit back as he moves toward you, his lips finding your thighs, his hands hooking around and grabbing them apart, pulling you closer to his mouth. “I’ve dreamed about this.” He rasps as he begins to devour you.

One of your hands finds his hair, pushing it out of his face so you can see his pretty eyes, and he moans when your eyes meet his. His tongue laps at you, and he pushes further into you with his tongue as his fingers dig into your thighs holding you apart for him. He was good, and he was savoring the moment tasting you as he lapped at your arousal. His tongue moved up to your clit and his lips latched onto you making your moans falter into more of a cry, your head falling back onto the bed as you rolled your hips against his face. You couldn’t control yourself, and he was loving every second of being between your thick thighs. He was so vocal about it, his deep voice rumbled into you as he moaned and growled trying his best to keep you still. Your head is spinning when you feel a hand move from your thigh, and you can feel a long finger slipping into you easily, it makes you whimper and he adds another finger curling his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Mingi…” Your voice shakes as he continues to lap and suck on you, your orgasm starting to swell in the pit of your stomach, between his mouth and his fingers you weren’t able to hold it together. You were falling apart, your moans turning into squeaking whines, your voice shaking. He was hitting the right spot with his fingers and his tongue. He didn’t care to make a mess, burying his face between your legs, making sure he didn’t miss a beat in making you feel good.

“Come on, princess.” He growls, his fingers not stopping his relentless movements, “Cum in my mouth.” He rumbles and you didn’t have much of a choice, as you cried out a string of curses, your body shaking beneath him. Your vision was long gone as you squeezed your eyes shut your hands grasping for his bedsheets. He doesn’t stop his tongue, enjoying every last drop he can as you lay there your eyes closed.

“Fuck.” You breathe slowly pushing yourself up as he meets you halfway, red puffy lips still wet from you. You kiss him this time, sloppy, nasty, your tongue slipping into his mouth and when he returns his you suck on it, a hum from your throat. “My turn.” You pull away and he looks at you. Your hands reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants, you could tell he wasn’t wearing underwear, and it was confirmed as you pulled his long thick cock free. He’s hard already and you switch spots with him on the bed.

“I’ve dreamt about this…” He moans, as your hand wraps around him your eyes finding him as you lick a long wet line up his shaft, he bites his bottom lip, keeping his eyes on you. You stroke him slowly, using your saliva to keep him wet.

“Keep talking to me…” You say, “I want to hear how good I am.” You blink up at him before taking him into your mouth, just the tip at first.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He rumbles, and you do as you use your tongue over his tip, swirling your saliva around him. “Take more, please.” He begs, and you oblige, stretching your mouth around him as he moans in a deep breathy voice, “So perfect.”

You start slowly, taking him as far back into your mouth as you can but making sure to pull all the way back. Your eyes still looking up at him as you take him further, into your throat, your eyes watering as you bob there, and he moans even louder. You moan too, around his length and the vibration makes him shudder. Watching his head fall back you take pride in it. You got him right where you want him and you take him until you gag but don’t pull off yet. You don’t dare as you bob your head more, and he growls a hand coming up into your hair, a tight grip on it as you suck in your cheeks pulling off him, your hands coming up to stroke him as you pull away, taking a breath his eyes finding yours.

You know you probably look rough, there’s saliva dripping from your lips, your eyeliner is definitely smudged from this or when he made you cum. But you’re watching Mingi lose control, his face red, his eyes fixated on you.

“You beautiful girl.” He rasps, and you wrap your lips around him again. His grip on your hair somehow grows tighter but he’s not pushing you, just holding you still. Then you feel his hips thrust up, his cock sliding into your throat easier now, and you moan around him. Your hands finding his bare thighs, your fingernails gently but firmly scraping into his skin as he fucks your mouth slowly. You’re expecting him to finish like this, you want him too, his brows furrowing as he lets deep moans roll from his throat. “Not like this.” He groans and you suck off him again, taking another breath he pulls you toward him, eagerly, his lips hungry.

“How do you want me?” You whimper, your lips still lingering on his. This ignited something feral in him.

“Turn around, grab that pillow… both of them…” You listen to him, following every instruction, “Under your hips, good.” You stick your ass out for him, without him asking and he growls at the sight of you, every single curve on display as you look back at him. A hand slaps your ass and you whimper and giggle moving your hips back towards him as he gets closer, lining himself up with you, and you brace yourself for him, your fingers curling into his sheets holding tight as he moves agonizingly slow into you. The stretch alone feels good, your mouth falling open as you moan. “So fucking good.” He groans, his palms gliding over your ass to your hips, grabbing tightly as he thrusts himself fully into you.

The feeling of him filling you is addicting, you need him to move but instead you grind back onto him, “Fuck.” You whimper, moving again. He lets you move, use him like a toy.

“Just like that.” He rasps, “Show me how good my cock makes you feel.” You throw it back harder, a little faster and you crave to hear him moaning more and more. His eyes admire the way your body moves, every jiggle and every bounce making him want more. You keep up a steady pace, the two of you just sounds of bodies crashing together and moans, whimpers, and growls. Your stamina starts to weaken as your stomach starts to flutter with the start of another orgasm, and you clench around him sloppily, sinking onto his cock until he takes over. His pace is relentless, energized, you don’t even move now, just trying to hold steady as he pounds into you. Your body trembles as he hits your spot and your brain gets foggy.

“fuck.” You cry, “Mingi…” you whine.

“C’mere. I want to watch you as you cum again.” He groans, and you hate the feeling of him sliding out of you, leaving you empty as you move over to face him, his hands scrambling for the pillows, “put these under your hips.” he instructs and you nod quickly moving them and he helps you into the perfect spot before slowly sinking into you, both of you letting out a shaking moan. He picks back up to the pace he was at, and you watch as his eyes fall shut, he uses his entire body to press against you as he grunts your hands reaching for his bare broad shoulders.

“Mingi—“ You cry, “I’m so close.” His hips slam into you faster, your words falling back into nonsense as one hand grips your hips, the other moving to your clit making your legs shake as both motions make your orgasm start to peak. Before you can feel him twitch inside of you, his own words become a deep growl as he releases inside of you. You followed behind, your eyes tearing as you cried out. Your body jerks away from him as your brain turns into mush, your body on fire as you continue to tremble beneath him. He stays inside of you, and you don’t want him to go yet as he leans toward you, his lips kissing yours lazily.

“Fuck.” He groans, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah.” You breathe heavily, he slowly slides out of you, the two of you gasp in response. He doesn’t go far, immediately cuddling into your side, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His lips pressing against your skin, his hand coming up to turn your face toward him. “You’ve daydreamed about this?” You smirk, his nose nudging yours as he smirks nodding, suddenly sheepish.

“It was better than I’d imagined.” He grins. You laugh and shake your head before kissing him again.

“You should’ve told me…” He sighs. “We could’ve done this sooner.” You giggle again.

“Better late than never.” You shrug and he laughs now too. He sits up, and looks down at you with a smile on his lips. He looks so pretty now too, even with swollen lips and messy hair.

“Okay perfect girl, let’s get you cleaned up and get some food… and then we can do this again.” You let out a laugh as he puts his hands out to you, helping you up.

“We have all the time in the world now.” You smile, and he does too.

“I’m not wasting anymore.” He smiles before pulling you up with him.

#song mingi x reader #song mingi x reader smut #mingi x reader #mingi x reader smut #mingi x plus size reader #mingi x y/n #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x female reader #ateez x plus size reader #ateez smut

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amarguerite · 1 day ago

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Other Emily of New Moon thoughts-- I'm very fascinated by what LM Montgomery was trying to do re: all of Emily's many suitors. Some kind of vague thoughts under the cut:

Now, ever since there have been professional women writers in the Western canon, they have been reflecting on and writing about what it means to be a person your society categorizes as a woman and as a professional writer, since the two are not a natural mix socially-speaking. Hell, even today there's a lot of genre-writers who identity as or who are assigned as female who get denigrated for it in unthinking and weird ways, i.e. the devaluation of romance as a genre, fantasy/SFF writers automatically getting described as YA writers even when they aren't, clearly documented and demonstrated gaps in book advances, weird interview questions about 'having it all' or 'balancing home life and creative life' that men don't get. A lot of 19th century/ early 20th century female authors write a lot about what seems to be a sometimes mutually exclusive drive between marriage and authorship. This is strange and interesting to me because I don't see as much debate about it these days since I think... it's very rare these days in the US for two married people not to both work, and though the strict social divide between male public sphere and female private sphere isn't as prevalent. Even trad wife content pushing for it involves this weird public exploitation of so-called 'private' work-- like how private, how unemployed are you, when you are a literal content creator for the public for money? That's not to say that household work, childrearing, caretaking etc does not fall disproportionately on women but it isn't expected that a woman give up public life upon marriage, and that in many circles (most?) the major issue is not a question of propriety but of domestic labor or day job labor impeding creative work.

I could be misreading this-- maybe the question is not competing social categories, but a question purely of labor, and the difficulty of being a professional woman writer AND running a household, instead of, Austen-like, being a spinster with other female relations who run the household.

However, if we do just think about 'wife' vs 'writer' as discrete social categories, I think all the beaux Emily has are a really interesting way to disprove a then-prevelant stereotype that a female author becomes an old maid through lack of other options. Her choice of profession, or the personality that drove her to it, alienates the men around her, or makes her ineligible in some way. The basic lived reality is entirely different. It's less that writing extinguishes the more conventional passion, it's just that it can be SUCH a passion with people that anything that does not rise to that level of... emotion, or interest, or what have you, feels fundamentally incompatible with the times where you feel most alive, i.e. writing. I don't think I've ever felt more uncomfortably seen as a writer (one who is always trying to figure out, Emily-like, if I have or can ever earn the title of 'professional' with all my magazine work-- and good God, it's depressing that the pay rates are still EXACTLY THE SAME), when Emily miserably confesses that writing is a compulsion. She can't not do it. There is no choice for her but the alpine path. It is a miserable one. She is often in bleak despair about all the rejections she gets and the reviews that contradict each other, but she can't NOT climb it. She can't get off it for anyone, even a Japanese prince or for the man who almost successfully groomed her (Jesus Christ Dean Priest. That's another post.) It's one of the most... real to me. Like, yes there are other options but... are there really? When you are that called to a specific kind of work, you just can't stop it, any more than you can stop breathing or being allergic to peanuts. Why do I keep slamming myself head-first into the wall of rejections? I have no idea. I just can't not do it.

And though I don't entirely think she succeeded (in large part because we don't see enough to Teddy and understand why he's so great in the last book), I do think it's very telling that LM Montgomery points out that for this specific kind of personality, the role of 'wife' can only be a good fit when the role of 'husband' is taken on by someone who ALSO has this artistic compulsion and knows that it does require long hours of work at odd times, and a certain withdrawing from domestic concerns to get into the right flow state. Dean was a poor fit for a lot of reasons, but the primary one was that he crushed Emily's artistic spirit and impeded the real journey of her life because he wanted to BE her whole life-- Teddy was the right fit because, having been in a similar relationship with his mother, I don't think he's someone who will insist he became Emily's whole life. He's probably happier that they can both go into their creative flow states, and do their own work as they wish without the other feeling abandoned or unhappy. It just becomes parallel play. It's Art Time in the Kent Household, where we don't talk to each other for the next six hours and stay holed up in our separate rooms and we're both extremely happy with that-- that kind of a thing.

tl; dr-- I'm very compelled by how Montgomery puts her own spin on the old, old Western canon debate of wife vs writer and how she reconciles the two, even if I don't think she entirely succeeded in the execution of it.

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fairiesreturningtotheshadows · 3 days ago

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Harry Price (1881-1948) was a British psychic and a paranormal researcher whose reputation reached extraordinary peaks because of his passion for unmasking fraud.

Already in his adolescence he was interested in the affairs of the beyond, and wrote a theatrical work on a case of Poltergeist in a Shropshire farm, England [see: the 8 phases of the polytergeist activity]. In a few years, the interest of public opinion attracted thanks to a very curious discovery, space telegraphy [Space-Telegraph], something like a primal wireless communication that theoretically worked perfectly, but when it was tried to put it into practice it was a failure. In his autobiography: Search for truth (Search for Truth), Harry Price states that the experiment was not entirely negative, since it served to prove that his idea did not work at all. Around 1908 he was interested in archeology, quite successful, since he managed to get several Roman currencies, axes and utensillos in the Sussex region, whose authenticity was confirmed by the antiquarium society [Society of Antiquaries]. But what really interested Harry Price were the paranormal phenomena, and there he directed his efforts since then.

For his arduous work as an unmasking of prodigies [who concealed his desire to find genuine wonders] he began his studies in occultism. In 1922 he joined the Magic Circle [Magic Circle], with a net esoteric cut, and then got fully into the study of traditional magic and prestidigitation. With these weapons he launched ghosts and fraudulent mediums.

He obtained his first success as a paranormal researcher at the end of 1922, when he was photographed by William Hope next to a spirit [see above]. The strange thing is not due to photography, but to the previous agreement between Harry Price and the Spirit, in which the latter promised to pose for the photo.

In 1923 Harry Price made a formal request to the University of London to create a psychic research department. The institution responded favorably, and Harry Price headed the working group [although without belonging to the Academic Staff], which would finally absorb the departments of the National Laboratory of Psychic Studies [National Laboratory of Psychical Research]. Harry Price, the famous ghost hunter, and Harry Houdini, skillful unmasking of fraudulent wonders, attests to spiritualist sessions where the diners had to make great physical efforts so as not to be evicted from their seats by the sudden movements of the speakers (see: when something invisible touches you)

William Hope, the Paranormal photographer, denounces that the speakers are animated by an invisible and undoubtedly intelligent force, with which it is possible to establish a communication code to talk with her (see: something called me by my name)

For example, a blow means yes and two strokes no (see: a blow: "Yes"; two blows: "no"; three blows: "Let me enter"). There were also random combinations that required the fine interpretation of exegetes that alluded to perfectly natural emissions and sound polyuses in a closed enclosure.

Daniel Dunglas Home, the great levitator of his time, witnessed paranormal phenomena of incredible size, such as the total levitation of the table and its diners. Others denounce light, phosphorescent appearances, invisible and lvid hands that pinch the ladies, wind bursts, objects that materialized and even the appearance of ectoplasm from different medium holes (see: what are the spirits made?)

Most of the charlatans of the time attribute these paranormal phenomena to the activity of triggered entities. A rationalist minority suspects the presence of unknown psychic, individual or group forces, acting in unison on the table (see: spirits and "charged environments"))

Already at the end of the 19th century there was a true fever around the speakers, which in honor of the truth did little justice in their name, since they rarely spoke.

The spiritualist Allan Kardec was perhaps the first to establish an orderly communication code, for which he managed to record messages of deep skepticism even in probably dead people. To know something more about this code we recommend reading his work The Book of Spirits (Le Liv re des Spiro).

There is no culture in the world that has been safe from the undesirable presence of the dead that rise from their graves to feed with the blood of the living. This allows us to reason that nigromance: the art of invoking the dead and returning them to life, or non -death, rather, was a rather lucrative trade.

In the first place, naturally, the body should be exhumed. He was later beheaded and one of his feet was amputated. Finally, the pi

El espejo gotico blogger

#goth #gothic #gothgoth #goth aesthetic #dark #horror #uncertainty #visualization #presence #spiritualist #the deadly six #undefinided #flesh and bone

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galerymod · 3 days ago

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The Gaza issue is no longer relevant since the Israeli government managed to persuade the United States of America to bomb Iran.

We support the existence of the State of Israel, but every state and every people must take responsibility. What was planned and carried out by Hamas terrorists on 2 October must be answered for reasons of state. However, bombing the entire Gaza Strip just because terrorists are hiding among the civilian population is collective guilt that is being attributed to the defenceless Palestinian people, who were unable to get rid of these terrorists themselves.

Even if you don't like to hear it, what the Israeli government is doing is a crime against humanity. And to stifle any criticism of this with the anti-Semitic hammer is helpless rhetoric. We are in favour of religious freedom as long as we are not told what to believe. Religion is a private matter.

And anyone who really knows the history of Iran knows that America deliberately destroyed democracy in order to install the Shah, who, incidentally, was every bit as cruel as the mullahs.

America made the mullahs possible in the first place, which is somewhat ironic.

We abhor the mullahs' regime, but attacking a state without a declaration of war is against international law.

What, then, is the difference between Donald Trump's United States of America and Vladimir Putin's Russia?

If international law no longer applies, then the world has a real problem.

All negotiations on a two-state solution have been repeatedly undermined by the current Israeli government through its settlement policy, and its true interest is now evident in the expulsion of the Palestinian people.

The Palestinian people have just as much right to a state as Israel does.

Throwing years of negotiations down the drain just because the opportunity now exists is a crime with intent.

mod

A Japanese man has been protesting at the Israeli embassy every week for over a year

#free palestine #free gaza #gaza genocide #palestine #save palestine #i stand with palestine #gaza #iran #israel #galelry mod #mod studio #rebog #freedom #tiktok

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mapoeggplant · 2 days ago

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skip to loafer chapter 72 analysis // spoilers

“who shall be the one to mend this lonely soul?”: the counterpoint and similarities between the dreamer and the desolate and how to move forward even with the feeling that there is nowhere to belong.

when i opened comic days, i confess that kanechika was the last person i was expecting to see. so much so that, thanks to this confusion, i first thought that the chapter would take a completely opposite direction to what i was expecting, which was the school play. but i soon understood what sensei was trying to do and the overlap she chose for this very important moment.

it’s not new for sensei to intersperse two stories into one in order to develop one character or the other (or both) a little more. this mix of elements brings more life and support to the narrative, since the character is able to open up more when faced with something that is opposite or complementary to them. and here i believe that sensei decided to combine the two forms and gave kanechika the role of being the opposite and, at the same time, the complement to shima.

kanechika has always had a huge passion for cinema and theater. this has been evident since the first time he showed his homemade movies to his insistence that shima join the theater club. but, something that hasn't been explored in depth yet is the loneliness that comes with this passion. not everyone around you will always grow up having the same interests as you or feeling them to the same intensity. sometimes, especially for a child, it’s much easier to ignore the “different boy” than to try to understand what this cinema that he likes so much is all about.

but, even though he felt alone and couldn't really fit in with people his own age, something inside kanechika encouraged him to keep going, to try, until he found people who shared his passion or came face to face with something he had brought to life, understanding that everything he had gone through had led him there. seeing shima blossom on stage not only brought him a sense of pride for the kouhai he held in such high regard, but also the idea that he was indeed on the right path and that there were people in the world who were able to listen to what he had to say and who were able to consume his art.

this insistence on what he loved, even if it hurted you, is the opposite of shima. the realization that your tastes, desires and dreams are valid and that you have the right to feel them would be the complement.

shima finally took the stage dressed as the monster he had always believed himself to be. and this becomes even more vivid considering the moments in the play that sensei thought were important to highlight, such as the monster's understanding of his loneliness, the forced isolation imposed on him and the understanding that the person closest to you, such as the one who raised you, will not always be responsible for curing the persistent pain of not belonging.

while kanechika sees his passion for theater shine with his own eyes, shima stands against the world. even though it is not him himself standing on stage, it is not his words but those of the monster, shima finally stands up to face everything that he swore was much greater than he could handle.

and, in contrast to everything, we have his own victor frankenstein waiting on the other side, with teary eyes and the fear of trying, once again, to connect with the monster. a mother drowning in the open wound sees, for the first time, her son blossom and live for himself, live for his ideals and passions, face his fears and move forward. her creation that she herself could not fix, the soul so sad.

however, next to her, there is someone who has the courage to say out loud what she so desperately wants: yuki does have the right to try one more time, to be honest with her son and listen to him with all her heart, to try not to rebuild something that is broken, but to forgive what cannot be undone and start over something that they can both build together, side by side, mother and son. she sees the child she raised forcing himself to be an adult from a very young age, giving him the chance to be young for the first time, to try to take control of what hurt him so much. why not try again, in a new play this time?

for the first time in years, they look into each other's eyes, completely raw, ready to face this new unknown. for the first time, she allows herself to praise her son, something she was so afraid of doing, with a great fear of putting an enormous pressure on his shoulders once again. and he allows himself to accept the hand that his mother extends, letting himself dive into this vulnerability that the monster gave him. not only that, but he also now shows a new interest in this family that was given to him, an enormous desire to belong, to be the older brother that his little brother admires so much, to be able to be someone who has frank conversations with his stepfather. shima and yuki are, for the first time, experiencing what could be a complete family.

and in the midst of so many new beginnings, endings, goodbyes and new days to be lived, there is that one girl, who still waits for him in the same hallway, emanating the same light that welcomes him so much. letting himself be carried away by the feeling and embracing mitsumi once and for all is another step that shima takes in his favor, another step that he allows himself to take to finally be able to walk side by side with this person that he admires so much and finds so special. falling apart in her arms, not so that she can pick him up and rebuild him, but so that he can show her every little piece of himself.

the monster found not only someone who could mend his oh so lonely soul, but someone who would give him the strength to fight alone and for himself. mitsumi isn’t the saviour nor needs to be saved: she’s the light that guides him to find his own path and our courage. it was she who showed him how beautiful it is to be true to yourself and now that he has finally embodied this monster that haunts him so much, he can give himself the chance to walk side by side with her towards a new future.

how beautiful it is to be able to read such an incredible story about taking a chance on yourself and loving without regrets. we’re once again being able to experience another beautiful chapter and for that i’m so grateful.

before we go, can we also appreciate kanechika's shirt when he was a kid? he once wore a shirt with monsters on it only to later see a monster on stage. what a comeback, huh?

thank you so much for reading and sorry for any gramatical mistakes 💛! please support sensei if you can! we will be on break next month thanks to the release of vol 12. excited to see what comes next!!!!!

#duckmetas #skip to loafer spoilers #skip and loafer spoilers #skip to loafer #skip and loafer #stl spoilers #skip to loafer chapter 72 #I almost went crazy with this chapter #when I say crazy I mean crazier #god I love this manga so f much

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runnning-outof-time · 2 days ago

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Not At All | Tommy Shelby x Reader

PART 3 of A Series of Interactions at The Garrison - but can also be read as its own story

Request: yes by @brummiereader - sent in as a blurb request

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: Things between Tommy and (Y/N) come to a head after a different kind of interaction happens at The Garrison.

Warnings: language, smoking, mention of drinking (it takes place at a bar, y’all)

Word Count: 2308

A/N: I’m so happy that everyone’s enjoying this unexpected journey so far — I hope this next part doesn’t disappoint! I’m sorry it’s taken a little longer than would’ve been expected for me to put it out….I hope y’all are still interested in it. I’m really proud of how it came out. The prompt I used is bolded in the story. Enjoy! :)

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THE STORY!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

Things were different at The Garrison today. Not many people had been through the Small Heath watering hole, and it finally gave (Y/N) a chance to breathe behind the bar. No one was yelling rudely for another drink, no one was arguing on who arrived at the bar first, and there were no terrible messes that needed to be cleaned up.

There was this one man though.

His name was Daniel. He was unlike the majority of patrons that frequented the pub. Instead of being demanding, he sat and waited for his order to be filled, tipped (Y/N) way over the normal amount, and struck up a normal conversation with her….one that didn’t make her feel inferior or like she was in harm’s way.

It was a welcome scenario that she was thankful for on a day that was going slower than usual.

They kept their conversation going, only stopping when (Y/N) needed to tend to a customer or restock the bar. It switched topics frequently, their discussions ranging from the goings on around the city to what Daniel did for work: he was a writer for the newspaper, and the boy did the stories he share make (Y/N) laugh.

“So this one time I was assigned to what my boss called a festival that was way too far outside of the city limits for my liking, but the pay was good so I agreed to it,” he started up on another story, resting both of his elbows on the bar so that he could lean in on them for effect, his grin growing as he continued, “turns out he wanted me to report on this sheep herding event that some local farmers were doing…you wouldn’t believe the size of the bloody crowd that this thing attracted!”

“Miss can I get another round of shots?” a patron interjected a request into the story, effectively pausing it and making (Y/N) go about filling the correct amount of glasses he was wanting.

“You’re going to need to make two trips for them,” she told the man as she placed the bottle of liquor back in its position on the shelf.

“Nah, I’ll be able to take ‘em,” the man disregarded her statement, then going about grabbing as many of the glasses that he was able to hold. He managed to get a grip on all but one of the glasses. “Put that one on top of this one here, will ya?” he then asked (Y/N) to assist him.

“I can bring it over to your table if you’d like,” she suggested another plan.

“I said put it on top of this glass,” the man insisted, his patience now clearly wearing thin.

(Y/N) pursed her lips into a fine line, obviously not wanting to follow through with what the man was suggesting. But she obliged, managing to get the last glass to balance on of the glasses he was already gripping in between his fingers so that she could avoid his temper rising any higher.

All was well until the man began to lift the cluster of drinks off of the bar top. Sure enough, the glass that she had balanced wobbled and fell back to its previous place, making the liquid it held splatter everywhere as it did.

“Fuck,” (Y/N) sighed under her breath, quickly grabbing a towel so that she could stop the spread of the spilled drink’s contents. She then shot a look to the man who was standing with the rest of the drinks in his hands. “Take those to your table and I will bring the last one over,” she said to him, the tone she spoke with telling him that her plan was not up for debate.

The man nodded and followed through with it, leaving the bar for his table.

“I’m sorry, give me a moment,” (Y/N) sent an apologetic smile in Daniel’s direction.

“No worries at all. Do your job,” he smiled back at her.

She then went about the motions of completely cleaning up the remnants of the spill on the counter before she refilled the glass and brought it to the table of awaiting men. They thanked her and she smiled at them before returning back to her spot behind the bar.

“Never a dull moment here,” she commented to Daniel, laughing softly as he smiled at her. “I’m sorry again for interrupting your story.”

“Love like I said, it’s no worries. You were doing your job,” he grinned at her. He then gently reached out and used his thumb to wipe what (Y/N) quickly realized was a wet spot on her right cheek. “Though it seems you missed a spot in your hasty clean up,” he grinned at her, his thumb lingering against her skin for a moment longer.

“Thank you,” she whispered her thanks, feeling her skin heating up where his finger brushed. She subconsciously leaned his touch, quite liking the feeling of his smooth skin touching hers.

“Oi, out!”

Another voice entered the conversation. (Y/N) knew exactly who it was without even looking. The commanding nature of it was a dead giveaway.

Daniel jumped back from the bar top and turned to face the gangster that called the city ‘his’, the smile he was previously wearing now nowhere to be found. “Mr. Shelby, I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, I…”

“Out. Now,” Tommy didn’t want to hear any of what he had to say. His steely gaze was honed in on the man he was going to get out of his pub by any means necessary, if it came down to it.

Daniel didn’t try to continue with his rebuttal. He knew that continuing talking would get him nowhere in this situation. Everyone in Small Heath knew who Tommy Shelby was…they knew that what he says is what happens, regardless of what anyone else thought. He lowered his eyes from the intimidating man and turned to look at (Y/N) again, sending her a look that said “I’m sorry”.

(Y/N) didn’t quite know what he was sorry for. She was flabbergasted by what was occurring and couldn’t even think of anything to say in response to it.

Tommy’s eyes stayed trained on the man he was kicking out, watching intently as he stood from the stool and began walking to the door. Pleased with the outcome of the establishment’s door shutting, he made his way to the snug, leaving the situation without further comment.

(Y/N) had to blink a few times to make sure that what had just happened in front of her was actually real. There’s no way he came in here and kicked that man out for no reason, she thought to herself. The more she thought about what had occurred, the more she began to feel angry at Tommy for how he handled it.

A scowl formed on her face as she made a beeline to the snug’s closed door. Upon opening the door she found Tommy sitting in his usual spot, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette as if what had just gone down hadn’t happened at all.

“What was that out there?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level as the anger continued to bubble up inside of her. She motioned her hand in the direction of the bar to accentuate her point as she spoke.

“What?” he asked for clarification even though he knew full well what she was referring to.

“Why did you treat that man like that?” she happily gave him the clarification he was looking for.

“I didn’t like how he was acting,” he responded with a shrug, taking a long drag of his cigarette after he finished speaking.

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed together in an incredulous expression. “What do you mean you didn’t like how he was acting? What could he have possibly been doing wrong?” she fired off more questions.

“Who’s at the bar now?” he tried to veer their conversation off of its course.

“Harry’s got it covered, now answer me,” she wasn’t falling for it. She put him right back in the hot seat before adding: “if anything he was doing everything right. He has been the highlight of my day.”

Tommy’s expression changed the second he heard what she had to say about the man he’d just kicked out. His lips pursed into a fine line, his eyes narrowing as he stared straight ahead.

It was slight and quick, but (Y/N) noticed it. Her lips twinged upwards as she realized why he was acting the way he was. “I think I know why you’re acting this way,” she began, her statement making his eyes snap to her. “I think you didn’t like the attention that man was giving me…I think you didn’t like the fact that it was good attention.”

In the weeks that had passed since she patched him up after his late night…altercation, both Tommy and (Y/N) had been dancing around the fact that there could very well be some deeper feelings at play between them. Feelings that go beyond the ones that a boss would show to his employee, and an employee to her boss. They kept toeing that line, neither wanting to cross it.

But now it was apparent…Tommy had entered The Garrison and found (Y/N) in a position with another man that she should have been in with him, and he hated it.

He wasn’t going to admit that outright though. Silence hung in the room as he leaned forward in his seat. The smoke from his ciagarette wafted around him as he looked up at her. “You think I’m jealous, eh?” he asked her, his eyebrows raising as he spoke.

“I think there’s got to be some reason behind you throwing that guy out just for being nice to me,” she countered, her expression staying stoic although she was secretly loving the fact that he’d admitted to exactly what she was thinking.

A soft scoff left his lips when he heard her response. He shook his head as he spoke: “you’ve got it wrong, love.”

“No, you’ve got it wrong, Tommy,” she wasted no time in turning his statement right back on him, “you can’t even see what’s right in front of you.”

(Y/N)’s blunt statement was met with silence. She huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting intently to see what he would say in response. His eyes didn’t leave hers, and it was now almost like they were having a silent challenge; seeing who would crack first.

Tommy’s voice broke the silence: “I have the right to kick whoever I want out of me pub whenever I see it fit.” His comment came from way out in left field, and it was one that pushed (Y/N) to her limit. The manner that he said it in irked her even more. He was so apathetic with it, breaking their staring contest to snuff out his cigarette as he spoke.

“Yeah, well your pub now has one less employee…” she snarked back at him, “I’m not going to continue to work here if this is how things are going to be.” She waited for a moment before making a move to the door, watching to see if anything changed in his demeanor. He stayed stoic. She turned to the door of the snug. “I’m done. Flowers aren’t going to get you out of this one, Tommy,” she made sure to get the last dig in, her hand reaching for the door.

“Stop.”

Even though she had every intention of leaving, his voice still stopped her in her tracks. Tommy Shelby just had that power over her…he had that power over every situation; over everything.

(Y/N) just about jumped when she turned around to see what more he had to say. Tommy was no longer sitting in his usual seat. Now he was standing right in front of her. “What?” she questioned him, her brows raised.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead his hands found her cheeks and he pressed his lips firmly to hers. His kiss told her everything she needed to know; told her the real reason behind him kicking Daniel out of the pub; told her that those feelings they’d been dancing around for weeks were real. And she made sure that she kissed him back in a way that told him those very same things.

The kiss left them both breathless, and when they pulled away (Y/N) took immediate note of how Tommy’s thumb felt as it gently brushed her cheek. It was much more rough and calloused compared to Daniel’s smooth skin, and she was instantly convinced that she preferred the former feeling to that latter.

“It’s taken you long enough to do that,” she was the one who broke the silence this time.

Tommy tried to stop the grin from forming on his face as he heard her statement, but he failed miserably. “Would you mind if I did it again?” he asked her, his voice just above a whisper.

“Not at all,” she grinned, closing the space between them to match her lips with his once more. They shared another kiss before she spoke again: “oh, Tommy…” she paused, moving back far enough so that she could look at him, much to his dismay.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his gaze flitting down to her lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss them again.

“Maybe flowers can get you out of this one,” she said with a grin, harking back to her previous statement.

“Oh I can give you a whole lot more than flowers, love,” he grinned, hearing her giggle as he closed the space between them to kiss her again.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @succubaby @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @littlepeakydevil @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee

@dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @everythingelseisextra

@little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

@novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fic #fanfic #fanfiction #a series of interactions at the garrison

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amadinan · 2 days ago

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TADC episode 5 analysis

I will collect here my thoughts that appeared after watching the 5th episode of TADC. And there are many of them, the episode is really rich in revealing the backstories of the characters and even lore. But I will mainly touch on Caine and the lore of the circus.

But first, some small thoughts before I move on to the Intermission time.

Jax is an NPC?

To be honest, I never believed in this theory, it is interesting in a vacuum, but nothing more. However, at this point we have not one, but three hints about this: Jax's number in episode 4, which refers to the Blender program and how copies are named there, the fact that Caine was able to make Jax a vegan (although Caine stated that he cannot influence the minds of players) and the fact that Jax himself was sure that he had a tail.

This would already be enough to consider the theory probable, but perhaps this hole is a little deeper. In the end, Caine was also able to influence Ragatha, although not directly.

But what if we combine this with the main theory of the circus, that all people are digital copies of minds? Then, Caine can theoretically control them, because from his program point of view, they are no different from very complex NPCs, which Caine churns out himself, like on a conveyor belt. Let's remember that Caine deleted Gummigoo because he was afraid of confusing him with a person (after all, even then there were thoughts that Caine accidentally deleted someone) and probably Caine deleted the original Jax, and then replaced him with a NPC copy that differs from the original only in the absence of a tail. After all, even in the episode with the evil team, we were shown that Caine can easily create humanoid personalities by copying them from players.

Caine and Gangle

In the fifth episode, I noticed two actions between them and both were not entirely direct. First: immediately after exiting the portal, Caine noticed Gangle's broken mask and fixed it without a word. Second: Gangle was not on the evil team, she was replaced by Orbsman. I think Caine realized that Gangle almost abstracted at the end of episode 4, so Caine decided to be a little more attentive to her. And he did not add an evil clone, because this clone ... would have been Gangle from episode 4 herself, which could only upset her.

"Sarcastic eye-flying" after Zooble's sentence.

It's only one phrase, but it's clearly a lore bomb, although it is not entirely clear without context. For starters, Caine does not call Zooble by name, not "player", "guest" or even "human", he calls them "toy-box character". This may again hint at digital copies, but not necessarily. And then Caine says "other intelligent AIs" and this is even stranger, who did he mean? People like him and Bubble, simple NPCs or like players? It's unclear, but interesting, and Caine seriously doesn't like this idea from Zooble and again it's unclear why? The overload on the system? A possible NPC revolt? Caine is afraid that if there are too many characters, he will completely get confused who is who?

And finally, The Intermission time.

Get ready, there will be a complete searching for meaning where there may be none at all.

To be honest, I didn't understand everything, but some things may well have a context, so I'd be glad to hear your thoughts.

So, right after the intermission there was a bar where almost all the characters shared their past, and what if Caine shared too, just before this adventure? But purely in his style.

Right after the start scene, we are shown Bubble and how three jaws overlap each other, and then also three Caines, each larger one holding the smaller one. This may refer to his development, how starting with something simple like Bubble, he first became "jaws" (probably an alpha version), and then more and more complex, until he became what he is now. This also corresponds to the fact that at the end of the scene, Caine sort of folds himself, and then a small splash screen plays like in the 2000s games and the computer monitor turns on/off.

Why in the next scene Pomni is not clear to me, but here's why exactly cubes suggested by @poprocksriot. Perhaps there were three parts or even three AI that became a single being: two eyes of Caine and Bubble (possibly a third eye, as in the concept art).

Gangle, Zooble and Jax are sucked into the void: a metaphor for sucking people into the game.

A bunch of eyes in the void and Caine in the light in the middle. I think this is one of the most important scenes, which shows that Caine "came to life" and is no longer just a program. Firstly, the official music, secondly (thank you, @puddingandp1) he breathes in this scene, which may just mean that he is now sentient. In addition, the eyes. There are indeed a lot of eyes, but NONE of them are looking at Caine himself, which could mean how he became an "rogue AI".

Then we see the chessboard floor and the characters. Their world is literally turned upside down. A bowling ball falls on Pomni and Jax, which may indicate their condition as they were affected by getting into the circus. Moreover, we even saw Pomnis' condition in the first series. The situation crushed her, like a bowling ball. With Gangle and Ragatha it is a little more complicated, cakes fall on them. This means that for them the situation in the circus is "sweeter" than what was in reality. We heard about the abuse in Ragatha's family right in this episode, so in the circus, where her mother is not, she could get better. And with Gangle it is even easier. She worked at such a hateful job that even simulating these memories for just one day almost killed her. In the circus there is Jax, as a minus, but she does not have to work and she can draw as much as she wants. And Kinger. He catches the ball, which seems to say that the situation has not crushed him, but then he is not just crushed, but directly knocked off the board (mind) by a black figure, the loss of Queenie.

Then it is more figurative. Caine literally holds everyone in his hands. The characters in Caine's "hat" and they are clearly being watched, then a bunch of mannequins, which can also refer to the fact that Caine, as a puppeteer, holds them under control.

Then Caine stands on the floor and the camera approaches him. Note that this is the same chessboard floor on which the others were standing, and a bowling ball can approach it, as if the camera was attached directly to it, but Caine manages (for now) to not let himself be crushed.

Then a corridor and abstractions. Well, here it is quite clear, the attitude and the display of lost players.

Then Zooble interrupts Caine and he hangs. Perhaps we should have seen something else, from which even Caine hung, but alas.

Of course, there is also a mysterious mannequin that follows Pomni and is possibly Gummigoo, but little is known about him yet.

That's all for now, I really liked the series, I'm sure it will only get more interesting.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc caine #tadc theory #tadc analysis #tadc episode 5 #caine angst #tadc jax #tadc gangle

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artificial-people-ai · 3 days ago

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My two cents on this?

I concur, their stories are pretty similar in many aspects, including SecUnit considering "self checkout" as much as Gurathin said he also did before meeting Mensah (that woman is more effective than the su1vide help line). So the story is quite dark in both cases. Now, having said that, we need to acknowledge that Gura only sees SecUnit like a part of a very painful past that, up to a certain extent, comes back to haunt him.

All mayor interactions so far up to at least Episode 6 when you get to see SecUnit being protective or even heroic (unwillingly, that is) are mostly with Mensah. Now, I don't think either of them see each other in romantic light (Mensah treating SecUnit like one of her kids when it's damaged, and SecUnit being literally asexual and getting along with Mensah because she believes in it as more than a thing, and it seems no one else has up to that point in SecUnit life).

But I do think, from Gurathin point of view, yeah... might look like something else.

Gura is so protective and obsessed towards Mensah (for good reason) that he can't get a being as physically powerful as SecUnit needs (basically) a lot more help than anyone else right there and then. Gura had time to heal, discover he wasn't a monster, SecUnit hasn't. It's still even scared of itself thinking about that 7-second massacre memory from the last refurbishing. Going to lengths like shooting itself so it wouldn't attack anyone else. When it was actively trying to take care of itself and survive alone only days before, but the moment Mensah came back for it and drilled through the "top of the line" unit, SecUnit showed that it preferred to end itself rather than to actually honor its name ("MurderBot").

While Gura is stuck in the habitat, SecUnit is being saved by Mensah, or, saving her itself. So that right there looks like "something it's not", at least in Gura's eyes. He can't be there or be the """hero""" he thinks SecUnit is for Mensah. Gura still sees himself as small, frail, his augmentations while unique, can't compete with SecUnit. Gurathin feels that while SecUnit is there, he's not worth it, at least not enough. And that, right there, becomes resentment and competition.

And how can we forget that SecUnit did interrupted Gurathin when he was going to confess something to Mensah (before they get into the hopper on their way to the beacon); SecUnit was just trying to get going (to avoid Leebeebee's "aggressive flirting"), for it was more like "okay, chop chop humans, let's just get out of here. Beacon. Now.", and while it doesn't have a romantic interest in Mensah, from Gurathin point of view, SecUnit was interrupting the most important conversation Gura wanted to have with her.

And then being actually the one who saved Mensah coming back with her when Gura was contemplating that Mensah (and SecUnit) were dead when the beacon exploded. There's a solid friendship brewing between Mensah and SecUnit, but from Gurathins point of view, it's a threat or competition. It doesn't help either that Gura did pissed off SecUnit to the point it was the only one threatened with a laser to his face and a chocking hand. I mean, it's clear for us why SecUnit did it (tired of dealing with stu.pid humans that see it like it was nothing, or worse, fearing it), but every detail from Gurathin's point of view reinforces his beliefs about the SecUnit needing "to go" for a whole lot of different reasons rather than to see it like someone going through what he himself went through before.

Gurathin's "Do you have feelings for it?" really adds another layer to his dislike of SecUnit.

Though the whole group is still grappling with whether to trust it or not, Gurathin remains the most stubbornly vocal about that distrust and on one level we already understood why. He's a former member of the Corporation Rim, someone who both grew up on the same feeds as the SecUnit engineers—'They go rogue and kill everyone all the time!'—and, as we learn this episode, has been horrendously abused by the Company itself, so why would he trust anything it gave them? One might even go so far as to say Gurathin still doesn't see SecUnit as a person, only a very dangerous piece of equipment.

Except... you don't see equipment as a romantic rival.

We know Gurathin has a rather intense crush on Mensah and who can blame him? She not only forgave him when few others would have, but she turned his whole world on its head, providing him with a new purpose and autonomy and love when he was very close to giving up. That's the level of devotion that inspires sneaking into her bedroom to smell her pillow, or staring star-struck across the dinner table, unable to think of a single critique. Gurathin loves Mensah and Mensah obviously loves him... but not in the same way.

Now toss SecUnit into the mix. Here's Company property that scares the shit out of you and as if that weren't enough, the woman you love is being so nice to it. Not just that, she's seemingly prioritizing it over you.

"It feel like it's going through something" vs. I'm going through something.

Running to talk to SecUnit vs. I was the one who was just threatened.

"I feel we can trust it" vs. I thought you trusted me?

"You need a MedBay" vs. But you won't get me to one because SecUnit advises otherwise, right? (Notably, Gurathin doesn't seem to be conscious when Mensah makes the decision to leave anyway, with or without SecUnit).

There are a lot of other moments like this and from our perspective we can see that Mensah is treating SecUnit similarly to how she no doubt treated Gurathin six years ago. The parallels between them abound, including being slaves to the Company who only start to demonstrate true autonomy after meeting Mensah. Gurathin still has a lot of healing to do, but after so many years he's in a better place than the slave that has just admitted to some level of personhood (not to mention the practical issues of them needing SecUnit to defend them), so of course Mensah is going to prioritize it to a certain extent. She's trying to help it the way she once helped Gurathin, but Gurathin is still so damaged and so JEALOUS that he can't conceptualize, "Oh. She's giving SecUnit what I was once lucky enough to receive."

He can't see that, so what comes out instead is, 'You have feelings for it don't you?' Because what other explanation does he have? If SecUnit already 'stole' her attention and her high opinion, why not her romantic love too! I don't think Gurathin would have ever asked that without the fever lowering his inhibitions, but I don't think the fever caused that worry either.

Gurathin makes me insane because I just want to scream, "SecUnit is you! It's you! It's not your rival, it's a mirror of who you were six years ago! You're not in competition with it, you're the best person to help it because you know something of what it's gone through!! You get to pass the torch, Gura, and help Mensah help someone else!!!!"

#gurathin #murderbot #dr mensah #s01e07

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