#I know what you're trying to queue!

[daily-sifloop]

Stargazing? ✨

Day 10: looking for your star

[sschmendrick]

ok i've been meaning to send this ask all day but never caught the time. I see so much haikyuu on your blog lately! Tell me more! (funny thing is we are doing a rewatch at home too!) tell me your story and EVERYTHING you want. And also!!!! i can see you shipping hinata and kenma?

OK ok, strap yourself in because I cannot guarantee that this will make any sense. But I’ll do my best.

To be off to a great start, I do not remember how I got into Haikyuu. One day it wasn’t and the next it was. From pictures I have I can say that I was into Haikyuu in my last year of middle school (so 2015-2016). By then I already had mangas but I’m pretty sure I was first attracted to it by the anime so I’d already seen the first season (and maybe the second too) and I had started buying the mangas.

(I shall put a read more here cause this post is LONG, beware!!)

Pictured below is one of my productions during my mandatory stage de troisième. I was in a graphic design agency and I was shy so I’d eat real fast at lunch time and use the rest of the time drawing and my supervisor saw me one day and offered to give me an exercise around it that would make me both enjoy what I was doing and also understand more stuff about graphic design. He was awesome. He really went with all my little cringe interests and encouraged me. The exercise he gave me was to create a cover for Haikyuu. I had a lot of fun with the lettering, understanding the dimensions and everything. He then made me create a brand, understanding why brands are called what they are, making my own logo, and then I worked on one of their (maybe) projects.

(top is the cover I did, the second one is what I was working on when he gave me the assignment, last on is me being crazy and drawing yaoi in a room full of adults at 14 and them going good job, you wanna keep drawing ?)

Yes I already had a favourite character but it will become more apparent soon. I got really into volleyball because Haikyuu made it look so cool. I was never a sports guy so it was really hard to want to have fun while being so bad with endurance and athleticism. All I had to my name was my flexibility because of dancing for years. Once again I think I was very lucky with the people I met. My PE teacher was really nice and could have just let me skip the class but he didn’t. Wait no, this needs more context. I didn’t have many friends in middle school. I spent the first year with nobody. The second year someone approached me and more or less dragged me in the world of people and friends (once again, I met an amazing person that was just selflessly nice to me). She got me speaking to people and I met my friends through her. My best friend from elementary had abandoned me in a matter of days after we started middle school so I felt very awkward in all situations. Anyway, I had a few people I hung out with but that was about it. I wasn’t exactly the bestest of friends with them but they accepted me even if I was awkward and didn’t talk much. They all knew each other for a while and were much closer (and popular), so when PE would come around I didn’t have anyone to pair up with. SO, my teacher instead of turning a blind eye offered to help me with the volley practice (this was in quatrième (before last year of middle school) if I remember right ? but it must not have been before I learned about haikyuu). He took the time to make me practice everything and explain everything and honestly I think that helped a lot with my general technique cause otherwise there’s a lot I would not have understood or just learned wrong and would have to readjust when I got to high school.

Back to last year of middle school. My mind has been overtaken by Haikyuu cause it’s brilliant. I dabble in cosplay and I have no money I can use to buy an aliexpress one (yes the dreaded website but we would go there at the time haha) but I want to cosplay Haikyuu. Lucky me, I have found a group of cosplayer on Paris for the next Paris Manga that’s doing Haikyuu ! I was so pumped up. And they didn’t have my character but they did have his partner so we were all excited about it :) My parents were not very thrilled about it all because I was still just 14 and they were mostly adults but my mom still helped me make my own jersey! I still have it but I’m 100% sure it doesn’t fit anymore :’) Here is me starting to fall for the sport and the cosplay progress pictures I still have

(still so proud of it, I did everything by hand !! and last pic is me with a volley ball cause I was a little deranged already)

Yes I was Akaashi, I loved that character. Acting all polite but an overthinker much with a dash of mischievous and admiration for the people around him. Also nothing grand about him like so many of the characters, but he could still hold up with them. I think I have somewhere on my computer a picture of our group but first I don’t know where it is and second you can only see my face on it so I have no picture of my finished cosplay haha. The con was amazing, I had so much fun with these people, we started hanging out a little more often and going to all the anime cons around Paris as a group and we did more group cosplays. I loved it. However at this con I lost my phone and it was in February so when I needed my dad to come pick me up I had to wait for 45 minutes in short shorts and a thin jersey :’)

After that I kept enjoying Haikyuu as one does, and high school started. Oh high school, a lot happened there. First thing I did was being reborn ! And even though it wasn’t much and only social it helped me be a little more free already. Free enough to allow myself to pursue a certain sport I was looking forward to. Yeah I got the volleyball bug. I was so happy my high school had a volleyball “club” and the first day of it we were only two. It was me and another guy, even smaller than me, who had also loved Haikyuu but we didn’t talk much about it. He was just as fired up about it as I was and we really pushed each other to become better. I don’t know what he’s become now but I hope he kept playing volleyball.

Anyway we were off to a great start with…two players. But still our coach/PE teacher was kind enough to teach us. We managed to have a few more people to come now and then but it was rough the first year. In my three years (well two but that’ll come later) we never had 6 “full time” people in the club so any kind of competition, even to get completely massacred by the other teams, was out of the question sadly. We would play on a concrete court ! It was REALLY rough haha ! But these courts were situated in a sort of closed courtyard space that was surrounded by school buildings and on the top floor were the Prepa classes (preparatory classes to get in higher education schools like engineering private schools for anyone not French reading this). Unlike the rest of my classmates, they liked playing volleyball. They were soooo tall compared to us but they would play with us and teach us some stuff and they were really good compared to us. Thanks to them we got the actual practice we needed cause you can’t learn enough by just playing 3x3 or worse 2x2 with people who can barely keep the ball in play (I was one of these people, I get to trash talk past me).

In my first year of high school I was taking riding lessons at the military school since we wouldn’t be able to go to our family’s house village with the more apparent divorce and moving out and other difficulties. It was an experience and I don’t regret doing it but it wasn’t a great place. I stopped the next year. And then…then I have memory problems. I cannot remember if it was during my second or last year of high school that I did it, but I would say it was during my second year of high school, that I entered an outside volleyball club. It was a Sunday lesson, it was all adults and it was for beginners. We would mostly do matches but sometimes they would focus on serves or hitting (I only remember one lesson about it though lol). It was super cool, I got to play volleyball on the Wednesday with my school club, whenever at lunch break when the Prepa were playing, and the Sundays at my outside club. By then, I don’t think I was reading or watching much of Haikyuu. I think I might have gotten my adhd ass hooked on something else while waiting for the next season and I had fallen in love with volleyball for the playing not just Haikyuu by then. Also something that I’m working on (and I’ve noticed it has gotten better already) is that I have a hard time appreciating watching people do something I love (usually a sport) as much as I appreciate doing the sport. For example, I never enjoyed watching any horse jumping competition even though I love doing it. I think it might come from the fact that I am bad at the things I love and therefore cannot truly appreciate what’s going on. As of right now I watch volleyball matches and rallies and really enjoy it.

Last year of high school rolls around the corner and…our PE teacher/coach tells us that they are closing the club down cause we aren’t enough and she would rather not run from our practice to the badminton’s practice (that she also coaches) and only work with the badminton’s club. After all they had the regional and potential national champions there meanwhile we had no hope of ever participating in a competition. And I had learned at my last lesson at my outside club that since we weren’t enough coming to the practice they would close down their beginner lesson. It was a bit of a shock to go from two practice per week to none at all. I missed volleyball. I accepted to participate at the badminton’s practices (cause it’s also a sport I like but at leisure, not on a competitive level, and less than volleyball) but it was just to keep me doing something. What happened though is I got to choose which sports I wanted for my BAC (high school diploma) since I was in a club the year prior and I chose the one with volleyball and I aced that. I only resented the top players of our group a little cause it wasn’t their sport at all but since they were pretty athletic and good at sports in general they had no problem being good at it when it took me sooooo long :’) yes I am petty.

Then I don’t know what the heck happened. Well yes I know but I don’t know why when I arrived in Montreal in my school I didn’t try to get into the volleyball club. Anyway, I didn’t play for a whiiiiile, years ! And the only reason I did again was because my best friend’s parents ( @nyaoi-warrior ) invited me to play with them and their friends when I visited. I was bad at communicating when I was playing in France (I often forget to say “j’ai”) but this was in Czech Rep, and we couldn’t communicate in English. It was HARD but I had so much fun !! My team lost all of the sets but it was so cool :D

Recently I was looking for something in my old stuff in the basement of the building. I didn’t find it but what I did find were my old Haikyuu manga. And oh god the flame it awoken in me. So anyway here is me a few weeks later with a volley ball in my hands, I’ve found a place I can sneak in just for the end of the year and I’ve been looking at clubs I can enter (and hopefully get better and then do some competition).

Now more about Haikyuu. What an amazing sports manga/anime it is. Of course, with the protagonist being a spiker most people when they start volleyball because of Haikyuu want to spike. I was lucky enough to be in the tall half of my year in high school but now I am tiny compared to most volleyball players. And a thing I love in volleyball I quickly discovered is diving for the ball. I’d be running far back or on the side, sliding until my knees burn to keep that ball in play. I thank Haikyuu for giving each role a time in the spotlight in almost every game they play, cause with what we learned in my school club or outside club I would never have heard of the libero. Ofc when you play for leisure having a libero is a bit meh but now I know that if I ever want to play competitive this is the role I should gun for (or maybe setter but I’m still pretty small so idk).

I just finished watching the season 4 recently and I’m on my way to catch up, and then finish with the scans (and then buying the mangas too). I got spoiled about what happens at the nationals after season 4 and what happens after, the time skip etc but just in the grand lines and I’m fine with that. I don’t think that it takes away from it too much. And (IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS AFTER/DURING TIME SKIP DON’T READ BUT ALSO WE WON’T HAVE A FULL TIME SKIP ANIMATED SO IF YOU’RE JUST WATCHING THE ANIME I’D SAY MIGHT AS WELL READ IT BUT ALSO IT’S EVERYWHERE SO YOU MIGHT KNOW IT ALREADY) I freaking love Hinata in Brazil. It’s very funny to me too cause here is this little dude who got me into volleyball, with whom I had an anime-level betrayal and tragedy with my clubs, and now I’m learning Portuguese because of my Brazilian friends and I wanna go to Brazil and HE WENT TOO ?? That was hilarious to me. Maybe I should look into beach volleyball hehehe.

About the ships; I started with the “basic” ones, the most obvious ones that come from the strong bonds and non-stop interactions and how they are shown as more or less pairs by the manga/anime (so kagehina, asanoya, daisuga, bokuaka, etc etc etc) but I am a multi shipper now. I don’t know I have a much more relaxed approach to shipping now, especially for big casts where there isn’t clear cut villains, same with one piece. They all have great relationships with everyone around them and I like many of them. And yeah I stumbled upon kenhina recently and I really like their dynamic. I love kagehina just as much, and also the hilarious way Hinata seems to fascinate all setters. I have seen some really funny tsukkihina fanarts too. I’ve put a lot of stuff in my queue so you got some yakunoya coming soon as well haha. Also from what I’ve heard (haven’t got to see it yet) (yes the premiere was Sunday and it’s only out today) that the movie has big kenhina energy so I’m here for it.

This little red-head guy just makes me so happy. I’m so glad I got to discover one of, if not my favourite sport out there (and that says a lot coming from a horsegirl) and I want to keep it in my life. I’m asking around for clubs and selections and I hope I am accepted. And I’ll be celebrating my birthday watching Olympic volleyball matches :D

OH ! Another thing. During my intensive studying period for my current school’s diploma, I was with friends and before we started studying each morning we would put on music or some kind of stuff, and we put anime opening blind tests and one of them had the first Haikyuu opening (which is still my favourite cause yk…it’s the one that started it all) and I was hit with a wall of memories…yeah :’)

I think that’s all I might have forgotten a few things, I don’t know at this point.

I can’t believe you got me writing more about volleyball, in English, in 2 hrs than I’ve written for my THESIS in a WEEK. This is 5 word pages WITHOUT THE PICTURES.

[pragmatic-optimist]

An Appeal re: Anon Asks

For the last week (although honestly, the last six months), I've been having conversations on and off about the responsibility of answering asks on your blog and the impact it has on fandom as a community. 

At some point during Season 2 of Lone Star, the Anon asks, in particular, got truly out of control, and it's only gotten worse over time. Your blogs are your blogs, and I respect that. At the same time, as a fandom community, we share this space. Whether or not we all know one another, we're all coexisting in the tags and on this site. It takes a lot of emotional labor and time to filter and block on Tumblr, especially when folks don't tag consistently or correctly. Like many in this fandom, I also want to have fun while I'm here, but it's hard to do that when there seems to be little to no discernment in answering asks or properly tagging them.  

When it comes to unnecessary negative comments on fanfic, we often say, "it's not hard to close out of something if you don't like it." The spirit of that applies here, too. It's easy not to answer an ask, especially an Anon ask.

If someone isn't putting their name on something they're asking you to post to your blog, I would argue it requires an additional second and third look and careful consideration of how you answer it. (Certain asks are answered flippantly and then tagged for all to see, but that is an entirely separate post I won't be writing). 

Everything you share gets eyes; how many depends on how loud of a voice you're considered in the fandom. And it's been my experience that the louder the voice, the more substantial the likelihood you'll find problematic Anon asks in your inbox. Answering these asks on your blog gives them a platform, and tagging them gives them an audience outside of your followers. If you're a "big blog," it increases the odds that some of us will also be subjected to these problematic asks through reblogs. All of this broadly impacts fandom conversation because now it's deemed acceptable to send XYZ type of ask, use XYZ word(s), bring up XYZ topic, or talk about XYZ actor(s) or character(s) in any type of way.

The whole "this is Tumblr, it's not that serious" argument is privileged because some of this stuff is serious for someone like me (and others in this space). I can't just pretend someone isn't implicitly making it seem okay to say certain things, especially if their blog is looked at as a popular fandom source.

This ask is just one example of what I'm talking about:

It's the use of a racialized fetish term, and honestly, it's super cringe. Seeing this in the show tag is deeply uncomfortable as a Latinx person. What was the point of answering this ask and then tagging it? It serves no purpose and hangs out in the show tag like we all just throw it around (we don’t). It's been brought to attention, and still, it lingers. 

A fandom community should be safe and fun for all, but we don't live in a perfect world, so it takes work. Part of being in a community and doing the work is kindly holding people accountable to make it that way and being willing to have constructive conversations when concerns are raised. It's not accountability if you only show "remorse" when your friends bring something to your attention, and then nothing changes.

Accountability also ceases to exist when the fandom community chooses deep avoidance, handwaving things away whenever someone tries to share a concern. I have no idea why this keeps happening here, but I do know that every time it happens, it is profoundly isolating and makes it clear that fandom is only meant to be fun for some. The rest of us have to either put up with it or leave. 

If that's the message the Lone Star fandom intends to send, it's being received loud and clear. 

****

(Edit: the post is finally down, but I’ve shared a screenshot because it took three days and more than one person to address it publicly and this is exactly what I’m talking about.)

[not-poignant]

Absolutely wheezing at the idea that a writer ~might not know~ that what they're writing is ~bad irl~. How fucking condescending is that? As someone who mostly creates and consumes horror media, my perspective might be a little skewed- but c'mon, people KNOW that dubcon/gaslighting/torture/murder/&c is not okay in real life. Inadequately tagged fic (& media which deals with these topics poorly) might well be a problem, but people still know the TOPICS are morally bad (& illegal) & not ok irl

I really weighed whether to give your mockery a platform on my blog, so I might still delete this response later, but I'm just going to say a few things.

Firstly, my post was around people having irrational emotoinal responses and having subsequent thoughts that try to make sense of those emotional responses. This isn't really about what the author knows, it's about the emotional response. (But even then, anon, abusers exist in fandom, abusers write fic, and it's very naive to not know this). At any rate, my whole point was that if an author is tagging or warning, they generally know, lol. But there's reasons readers might not know that.

Since my post was solely about reader response I'm going to address the readers who don't know or realise something in the moment, because they're having an irrational emotional response.

Readers having emotional responses to something that squicks them or hits them the wrong way are rarely rational and based in what people 'know.' You might want to research emotions and emotional responses in order to understand this better.

Secondly, there are actually some fairly prevalent reasons why people may be unable to give others the benefit of the doubt in the moment and assume that the author knows what they know (not least: fic authors are often complete strangers). Some of those reasons are as simple as 'I've been raised to be wary of other people and what they believe.' But others include having been abused themselves, or alternatively, knowing that abusers and rapists write fiction and live in the world among us, and sometimes having a moment where they're just not sure based off what they've just read. (It's nice to assume that not everyone thinks abuse is okay, but it's a lot harder to assume that once you've been abused by someone you know, you might want to apply some compassion to other people on this - folks who are paranoid of others often have reasons for doing so, even though that never excuses abuse or bullying in turn).

At any rate, I can think of a lot of reasons why someone wouldn't automatically just 'know' something in the moment, especially if they've been triggered or squicked (which I mention in my post). It doesn't excuse bullying or abuse, which I say in my post, but the emotions themselves and the irrational thoughts they can lead to aren't bad by default - that's part of the normal human experience, you're having it yourself right now anon - that's an attempt the brain makes to protect the person who's just had that experience. After that, we make a choice re: our behaviours.

Your perspective is a little skewed, anon, simply because you've made the mistake of assuming everyone must think the same way you do - but not everyone has had the same experiences, upbringing and education you've had. And vice versa. Someone who has been abused by someone in fandom, for example, may struggle to assume benefit of the doubt in certain circumstances where something - the person or product - reminds them of that abuse.

You might want to research the cognitive impacts that abuse and interpersonal trauma have on people, anon, especially if you mostly create and consume horror media, because that is pretty important in the understanding of some horror. This struggle doesn't make their behaviours right if they're hurting others, but judging folks for not knowing what you do, or for the things that make them uncomfortable is rude and patronising.

It bothers me that you can't conceive of a world where folks might have frankly understandable but strong and irrational emotional responses to fictional content. If you can accept that for example, some horror will make people scared or too unable to engage with it (can you accept this?), even if they do know it's not real, then I think this is a concept you do foundationally understand, and are just not applying to this situation, perhaps because it disturbs you to think that some people don't just know this by default. I don't know.

Finally, given you felt the urge to come into a complete stranger's inbox and speak derisively and with open mockery towards a bunch of folks who don't make the same assumptions you do, or have the same knowledge base that you do, it's fairly obvious that you yourself know exactly what it's like to engage in behaviours based off irrational emotional responses. So maybe you have more in common with the people you're mocking than you think? Food for thought.

You probably know - when you stop and think about it - that there are many reasons why people may not 'know' or be able to assume what you know in this circumstance, but if you don't:

Highly recommend you do deeper dives into aversive emotional responses and emotions, and also look into how abuse and trauma can cognitively affect some people.

[phantasticalforce]

gets on to post something sad again then slides off

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

Top 3 annoying experiences on this website is having people who are not from your country loudly and confidently share misinformation and be wrong about your country's domestic politics because they think having their tumblr dashboards and twitter feeds full of posts (true or not) about American politics means they actually know anything about what the politics here are actually like or how the government works lol

[arklay]

MISSED SEEING YOU ON MY DASH LEAH I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL 💙💙

aaaaaa thank youu bones 🥺🥺💖💖 i have been experiencing the horrors but i'm starting to feel better and like i could probably have the energy to scroll again lmao i have so much stuff to catch up on though i'm like oh no...

[jeoseungsaja]

# ( for reaper and yoojin?? )

@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.

what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone:

It’s still ‘유진 (불멸의)’ [Yoojin (immortal)]’, because once he registers the contact, it’s hard for him to make any changes unless someone else makes them for him IUWHDEHWDE---

what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

Deok-Hwa taught him how to put some pictures within his contacts (finally), so probably, Reaper asked Yoojin to take a selfie with his cellphone so he could insert it as a picture for Yoojin’s number and this one came out:

what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

Default ringtone, he still doesn’t know how to change it (one thing at a time, right?).

my muse’s last text to your muse

[✉️ 4:15PM] : Hello [✉️ 4:20PM] : Are you at work?  [✉️ 4:31PM] : If so, can I visit? I have to give you something.

[errorsystemfailure]

another tag dump (sorry)

blah blah blah

[asea0fmxses]

OOC TAG DUMP - Don't Interact

OOC╰┈➤ ❝ [ make you whole ] ❞ PSA╰┈➤ ❝ [ you should just do it yourself ] ❞ QUEUE╰┈➤ ❝ [ leave it to somebody else ] ❞ PROMO╰┈➤ ❝ [ but you're just like me ] ❞ HC╰┈➤ ❝ [ show and tell ] ❞ PROMPTS╰┈➤ ❝ [ made mistake and made me hurt ] ❞ DASH GAMES╰┈➤ ❝ [ here at a standstill ] ❞ THREAD╰┈➤ ❝ [ feeling rips you inside out ] ❞ ANSWERED╰┈➤ ❝ [ grinding the gears ] ❞ CH. MAKERS╰┈➤ ❝ [ like puzzle pieces] ❞ SAVED╰┈➤ ❝ [ something different ] ❞ DASH COMM╰┈➤ ❝ [ that's something I know ] ❞ CRACK╰┈➤ ❝ [ shocking. ain't it? ] ❞ WISH LIST╰┈➤ ❝ [ we both don't know what we can do ] ❞ EDITS╰┈➤ ❝ [ make everyone happy ] ❞ MUN ART╰┈➤ ❝ [ my fingers fading ] ❞ STARTER CALL╰┈➤ ❝ [ trying for so long ] ❞

[performing-personhood]

Every time the torment gets bad enough that I start thinking about taking up the hobby of SH, I write notes on myself instead.

[churipu]

jjk men & their sleepyhead gf !

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, nanami kento x fem! reader

warnings. none, just them being all soft and whipped for you

note. first of all, anon i am so sorry, i accidentally posted your request on the queue list and fml, i'm so embarrassed but idek how to edit the queue list so out of desperation i deleted it— but i ofc screenshotted this before i deleted the og post, so i am so sorry :(( i hope you enjoy this, and i hope you get to find out i didn't delete your ask and it's here in a form of a screenshot :((

GOJO SATORU. i feel like he doesn't mind most of the time— he does mind it if you fall asleep when you're supposed to be paying attention to him >:(

but whenever you fall asleep, his camera's always on standby, snapping pictures of you from every angle. whether you look good or bad (you never look bad btw), from up above, from below, from the left, from the right, with 0.5, i can go on.

and when you wake up, you find your phone blowing up with notifications from shoko, geto, and him, especially with the notification "@gojosatoru tagged you in a post" and it's just a slideshow post of you sleeping, a few close up shots, and your face with different instagram filters.

you don't even bother at this point since he's not going to stop, and not gonna lie, you did find it a bit funny. and the comments from shoko and geto made you laugh, so... good luck trying to sleep around him, you'll wake up to a whole album of you sleeping on his account.

"satoru, what the fuck is this filter?" it was a filter that made your face a little distorted, and gojo'd just sitting there innocently, blinking his white lashes up at you.

"you look adorable, princess."

"i don't want to sleep around you anymore."

"no, please sleep— how am i supposed to continue my daily updates of you sleeping?"

mind you, he has 200 posts on instagram and 150 of them are just you sleeping + with the cheesiest captions like "my baby is sleeping, pls tell her to wake up bcs i miss her 🥺🥺🥺"

and shoko is all up in his comments like "wake her up yourself, dumbass she's literally in your house."

SUKUNA RYOMEN. the first time you fell asleep around him was when he went out to get a glass of water, but he didn't think of it as anything and thought you were just tired.

but no— you fall asleep anywhere, whenever and most of the time. he gets pretty frustrated when you both spend time, and in a bit, your head leans onto his shoulders and sukuna checks on you, and you were out like a light.

"y/n?" soft snores.

he clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn't push you away or get angry, although he finds you cute. sometimes snaps a few pictures to keep, but you don't know about that.

and at times, you wake up all tucked in your bed—your favorite plushie beside you, and sukuna nowhere in sight.

you open your phone and there's a few text messages from him.

[ you fell asleep, so i left ] he didn't leave, he said that to make you feel bad and for not giving him enough attention— he stayed in the same seated position for a few hours before prepping you onto your bed, tucking you in and not forgetting to place a smooch on your forehead.

[ call me when you wake up ]

[ love you ] awww.

he's so in love with you.

NANAMI KENTO. he's such a gentle soul, he won't mind if you fall asleep or is asleep whenever he comes over. in fact, he enjoys it when you fall asleep.

he read somewhere that if someone feels tired or sleepy around a person, it's because they feel safe. so nanami just concludes that his girlfriend feels safe around him, safe enough for her to get sleepy and fall asleep on him.

"kento," you murmur half-asleep, stretching your arms.

"hm?" he hums out, opening his arms for you to fall into — which you did, and he craddled you in his arms, placing his cheek onto your head.

"night night." it wasn't even night time, you just had to say it before you go to sleep, and nanami finds you so cute he couldn't help but to squeeze you a little.

"night night," he replies back, kissing your forehead.

nanami just sits there and continues craddling you in his arms, and if he needs to go, he would put you on your bed (on his bed when it's his house), and writes you a short message why he needed to go and when he will be back.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

[gomzwrites]

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots

Summary: You’re one of the members in the taskforce, and you’re one of the more quiet, self-reserved and stoic soldiers among them. They didn’t mind since they respected your personal space, but at some point, they saw just a glimpse of your rather different, softer side. a/n: I’ve had this idea in mind for a long time and just wanted to get this out there, English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes along the way! This is also my first fic so feedbacks are appreciated :] Tags: incorrect military terms/training, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, x gn!reader, reader's text is in purple Part 2 is out! PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION 

Captain John Price

You were on a mission with Price in another city, stalking and trailing the target, when suddenly the target decided to take a turn and entered a cafe. With the captain’s signal, both of you followed and took a spot in one of the corners in the warm, bustling cafe. It was a perfect atmosphere; the cafe was not necessarily noisy, but the number of people and music were busy enough for you and your captain to stay hidden and blend in well. You kept a keen eye on the target, noticing that he was in the queue and, so far, not presenting any signs of danger or threats. The captain gave your foot a nudge as he diverted your attention to the young waitress beside the table that you didn’t notice. "Hi! What would you like to order?" The waitress spoke in the local language that you didn't understand, but you knew she was most likely trying to take an order with the way she held a small notepad and a pen. You gave a small nod as you glanced at Captain for a moment, who was also reading the menu. You do the same, only frowning slightly as you couldn't read anything as well, and because you wanted to get this over with, you randomly pointed at one item to the waitress as she smiled and jotted down your order.

When the waitress walked away, you followed the captain’s gaze on the target; it seemed that he was still in line. You're slightly confused but relieved that the target remains in sight. Not long after, the drinks ordered previously arrived, but your eyes remained fixated on the sketchy figure. It wasn't until the Captain cleared his throat that you broke your gaze and stared down at the table. You froze slightly at the sight before you.

You watched a little wiggle action of the foam on top of what you assume is coffee before you. Except it's not the normal flat latte art kind of foam, but a huge bear foam with a cute face drawn with chocolate. You blink once, then twice before releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

This is so cute!! 

You thought to yourself internally as you felt yourself smiling, before realising the situation at hand as you snapped your head towards the captain, hoping he didn't see you, and to your relief, his eyes were still glued to the target. You take this opportunity to slowly take out your phone and take a quick picture of the drink before doing the same and observing the target again. As soon as you do, the target made its move and headed to the exit, which made the both of you follow promptly, seemed like he had a bag as well which was definitely not good news. You were a bit disappointed that you were not given the chance to try the cute drink, but you know you have a job to do, so you just hope that perhaps you can take a closer look again at the coffee later on your phone.

What you didn’t know was how the Captain noticed the change in your demeanour when you spotted the drink; he honestly wasn't expecting much from you, thinking you might just ignore it. But he saw from the corner of his eyes just how your eyes widen slightly, how they are shining when you realize what you ordered, and the way your cheeks had a shade of pink on it as you smile. He rarely gets to see you smile, and he found it endearing to think a cold soldier like you has a liking for cute things. He smiled internally as he noticed how you took the photo sneakily when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He made a mental note to bring you to a cafe he knows that have those famous latte art drinks after the mission, just to see you smile like that again.

John Soap MacTavish

The military base has decided to bring in military working dogs to aid in the next mission, which involves scouting and detection for drug detection at the port, where secret drug trafficking from a certain group of terrorists has been reported.  

"Soap, you’re assigned to Max and Judy; you’ll have to talk to Sergeant Sam about the training," the Captain says as he walks through the compound. You noticed how Soap seemed to tense slightly as he clenched his jaw; you also noticed how his breath hitched as he stared at the two German shepherds standing on the sides of the dog handler; you knew he had a bad history with canines in general when you stumbled upon his journal once; and seeing how uncomfortable he was, you decided to step up for the job.

"Captain, can I do it instead?" The captain glanced back, his beard shifting as he thinks for a moment before nodding and giving you permission. Soap stared at you upon hearing your voice and gave you an apologetic yet grateful look as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Aye thanks… Let me know if yae ever need something from meh in the future."

He watched as you gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder as you nodded. Unbeknownst to him, you actually own a German Shepherd yourself, and you’re very much a dog person, and you’re excited to start the training with the military dogs. He stood on the side as you approached the two dogs, nodding along to the instructions given by Sam. As you bent down and extended your hand out, the two dogs gave a few sniffs before finally warming up to you, with their tails wagging as they circle your body. He’s impressed with how friendly you seem with animals, and you were natural with the dogs.

After the training, he went around looking for you as he held a bottle of ice-cold mineral water, hoping that he could give it to you since you were training heavily under the hot, blazing sun. As he turned a corner, right behind the shed, he heard a few barks. He softened his steps as he leant in and took a peek behind the wall, and he was glad he did.

Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Come here! Oooh, such a big boy are you? You did such a great job with me just now~ oh! No wait wait- aH-!

He watched with a grin as he took in the image before him. You, giggling and rolling on the floor as the dogs lick and nuzzle your face and neck, having fun and relaxing with the dogs. He would almost forget that they were military dogs, and yet, with you? They looked domestic. On top of that, he has never heard you laugh or speak like this before; sure, you were using a baby voice and all as you cooed the dog, but he didn’t care because you have the softest yet brightest giggle, a stark contrast to your usual stoic self. He left after watching you for a while, smiling as he walked away to let you have your moments with the doggies. Next time, he’ll definitely want to join you in the training if it means getting to see this side of you more often. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick 

You groan as you sit on the passenger side as Gaz drives the Jeep. It was almost 9.30 pm as you were both ordered to buy a few furniture pieces, tables, and chairs specifically as an emergency thanks to Soap breaking them when he was messing around earlier.

"Why can’t we buy it tomorrow?"

Gaz asks as he, too, frowns and crosses his arms as a yawn escapes his mouth.

"We have a meeting with the other members from London tomorrow, and we can’t make them sit on the floor now, can we?"

Captain replied with a sigh as he frowned; he too was tired and annoyed with the situation, but he has a point. Gaz has asked you for help since the furniture needs to be carried, and you followed along (not without silently complaining).

The day has been terrible for you, it seems like bad luck was looming around your shoulders in every moment. Just this morning, you stubbed your toe and you couldn’t find your left sock, then sprained your shoulder slightly during the sparring session with Ghost. Not only that, the sandwiches that you always order for dinner were out of stock, so overall, you’re not having the best day. But who can you blame? You just decided to suck it up as you nod and follow Gaz. 

After parking a spot in IKEA, both of you decided to split up to find the respective wood and parts of the tables and chairs that, thankfully, the details of them have been sent to you by the Captain, so that the process can be faster before the store closes for the night. You sigh as you place the last part of the table in the trolley, crossing off the last serial number and name. You walk towards the place that Gaz told you to meet up with before stopping when you walk past the kid's section.

There it is, in all its glory: Djungelskog and the other notable plushies in the corner. Truth be told, you actually own two Blåhaj (they're in your house) and a baby Blåhaj in the quarters. You’re a big fan of plushies, especially the ones from IKEA and Miniso. You just haven't saved up enough cash to bring the big brown bear home. You take a step, then another, inching closer to the tray, until you’re right in front of the bear. You glanced around to make sure no one is around before you gently pick up the bear, thankful that there weren't many people in the first place due to the late hour. Without a second thought, you gave in and squish your face into its tummy as you give a big sigh and hug it tightly, smiling to yourself as you feel the stress dissolving away. Something about burying yourself in the soft cushion of cotton is healing for you; it gives you a safe, warming feeling, and it reminds you of the comfort that you never got much of as a kid.

You gave it a few more squeezes before finally parting ways with the bear, softly nudging its nose a few times as you whispered softly:

I swear I’ll come and bring you home next time I come.

You smile and place the bear back in its original position, glancing at it one last time as you spot Gaz in the distance, then swiftly push the trolley towards him. Gaz pays for the parts, and both of you head to the car. You get ready in your seat and fasten the seatbelt before Gaz speaks up.

"Oh, I forgot something. Give me a sec"

You haven’t even had the chance to ask back as he bolted back into IKEA. What did he forget? All the parts have been bought, and the store is nearing its closing time as well, but whatever it is, you waited patiently.

Maybe it's because of the long day, but as you rested your head on the window, you dozed off while you were waiting and didn’t wake up until you heard the driver's side car door open.

"Sorry it took awhile, we’ll go back now"

You nod sleepily as you murmur. "What did you forget?"

"Oh, don't worry about it", Gaz replies as he presses the gas pedal and promptly drives back to the base. You didn’t question further; you figured he probably needed something himself.

You went straight to bed after dropping off the equipment for Soap and Ghost to handle, immediately passing out as you landed on the soft bed.

The next morning, you were getting ready for the day as you stretched, satisfied that at least the sleep last night was good enough. As you open the door, a soft material lands in your room with a soft “umph” sound, you immediately look down cautiously, and that's when you see it.

Djungelskog, with its head tilted to your side as its fluffy hand remains on its tummy, on your floor. You were confused, and frankly, you were not awake enough to fully comprehend what just happened. But once you connected the dots, you smiled to yourself as you lifted the bear up and hugged it.

You make sure to buy Gaz something next time as a thank you.

Simon Ghost Riley

The day was mundane; after a few gruelling missions, the task force had many reports to do. You’ve opted to do them in one of the empty meeting rooms; you liked doing work in these rooms more than facing the concrete wall of your own quarters. At least here, the table was wide and it was fairly quiet; sometimes Ghost will join you as he feels the same. You enjoy his presence because, unlike the rest of the group, he is one of the few people you like spending time with in silence. Today was no different.

The hours go by quickly with the room filled with nothing but paper shuffling and turning pages. You sigh as you place down your pen and give a big stretch, deciding to take a break as you stand and move towards the door. The big man himself also follows along; you don’t question it; you figured he might need a break too.

As you walked away from the room, you decided to go to the bathroom. You passed by the training hall as you overheard the Captain and Laswell talking over some topics for the upcoming mission, but something caught your attention.

"....My wife brought cheesecake; it's in the fridge…."

Your ears perked up to the sound of cake; you haven’t had any dessert recently, and you do like cheesecake. You make a mental note to take a trip to the mess hall after using the bathroom, hoping to have a slice yourself.

As you make your way to the fridge silently, you approach the kitchen and let out a soft sigh of relief when the place is empty. You slowly open the door of the fridge as you poke your head in and search for any sign of cake. You were about to give up when you couldn’t see any, but you jolted slightly when you felt a pat on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, only to be met by Ghost again, with a plate in his hand. As you look at the plate, which has a slice of cheesecake, your eyes blink with hope as you slowly glance back at him. He gives you a nod as he hands you the plate, and you nod back as well with a smile, happy and grateful that he saved you a slice. You take a seat at one of the stools and grab a fork as you eat the cheesecake happily. Ghost leaned against the counter opposite you as he makes himself a cup of coffee. He watched silently as your mood seems to improve. Earlier, he saw how you stopped in your tracks when you overheard the conversation, how your eyelashes fluttered, and how your steps grew lighter. He immediately went to the kitchen when you head to the bathroom and managed to pry one last slice of Soap before he finished them, hoping to save you a piece when you come by later. As you take the first few bites with your eyes closed, you give a hum of approval as your shoulders drop. It’s not like the cheesecake was extremely good, but you can tell from the texture that it was homemade. You miss baking yourself; the last time you did it was with a roommate before you joined the military. You missed those silly moments as you clumsily mixed the ingredients and argued with your friend to stop adding too much sugar into the batter, or the time your friend made fun of you for baking the hardest brownies that can break cement if thrown at them. You also tend to have favouritism towards home-cooked stuff, no matter who made it; you always liked how the food tends to taste just slightly better. Is it because of comfort? Or the memories that flood your mind when you take in the smell? You honestly don't know; maybe it's both. Or maybe you like the thoughts and love people put into the meals when they cook. You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise you were swinging your feet idly on the stool. The stool was slightly taller than the regular one, and your legs barely touched the floor.

Ghost finds the view a bit charming—to see you relax and content over a slice of cake. It's not that he is complaining; he just never really saw you this comfortable before. He observes you silently and takes note of how you like to munch on your right cheek more than the left, making it puffy. He chuckles to himself when you start swinging your legs too. He's glad that he managed to snatch the last piece of cake, and perhaps in the near future, he’ll bring you some cake to share with you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················• a/n: that's all! Let me know what you think!! like a part two or something, have a nice day/night! :>

[starry-eyedblog]

(comes up to the mic and taps it)

john price is a hatefuck enjoyer *

(steps away from mic and disappears into the shadows)

* actually enjoys arguing on the dl because he knows how to segue it into a hatefuck sesh and of course, the lazy, postcoital make up sex afterwards WOOPS!

omg yes anon, thank you for coming out of the shadows with this beautiful idea. i hope i did it justice <33

warnings/tags: john price x reader, 18+ smut, hatefucking, rough sex, makeup sex

i can just imagine how gleeful he feels when in an argument, watching the anger building in your eyes. he loves watching your arms fly all over the place to try get your point across, so caught up in your anger with him that you don't notice the way he stalks over.

and then before you know it, he's shoving you down onto his desk with his lips pressed against yours. a surprised muffled gasp leaves you, eyes wide and body squirming in his grip. once he pulls away from your lips, you smack his chest. "what the fuck do you think you're doing? you think getting into my underwear means i'll forgive you?"

he'll laugh, smirking down at you. "not askin' for you to forgive me right now, look too hot all worked up. c'mon, keep yellin' at me - gets me hard."

you let out an almost disgusted sound at his confession but you can't hide the way your underwear grows slick and damp. queue to the both of you going at it like fucking bunnies over his desk, still yelling and hissing at one another about whatever the argument was about.

it's messy and fierce, john setting a bruising pace that has you gripping at the wood, nails scratching the varnish off. and as the rough fucking continues, the both of you are unable to keep up the shouts and insults, too lost in how good the other feels.

once the both of you have came, panting heavily - john will apologise, pressing a kiss to your head while pulling out slowly.

oh but the lazy postcoital make up sex? it leaves you in tears. it's so soft and slow, barely puling away from the others lips and when you do, it's to murmur sweet praises and apologies.

he moves you over to the big worn out leather couch in his office, spooning you from behind with both strong arms wrapped securely around you. his hips lazily bucking into you and grinding in, taking his time. you'll hold one of his hands, intertwining and locking your fingers together, wishing to be even closer somehow.

and he'll make you cum before him, just as an extra apology for riling you up earlier. will he do it again though? oh absolutely, you're just too hot when you're yelling at him.

[bomberqueen17]

tone indicators

I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:

they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.

but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.

It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.

So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.

This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.

I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.

But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.

Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.

Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.

And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??

For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)