#but I don't want to have that discussion again

[daily-odile]

twewy fit....

ref/based on:

[propertyofwicked]

FAKING AN INTEREST

f1 grid x platonic!reader (implied landoxreader) smau

based on this request! (this may need a pt 2 honestly)

warnings: none, just men having the audacity

masterlist the playlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

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yourusername made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 21,223 others

yourusername what the fuck is a DRS?

view all 9,211 comments

danielricciardo what he say fuck me for?

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⤷ danielricciardo ill clear my schedule - what day did u say u were free?

⤷ username1 mad about being labelled as a fake f1 fan only to turn around and flirt with the drivers? is she fr?

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username2 how does she know them im so confused

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⤷ lilymhe omg yes!! lily-ception

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⤷ logansargeant enemy? ☹️

yourusername made a new post!

liked by lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri, and 34,502 others

yourusername congrats on driving fast bestie

tagged: oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, jensonbutton

view all 7,210 comments

username4 jenson button? what are you doing here?

⤷ yourusername forming a danica patrick hate club

⤷ yourusername we're discussing gentle parenting tactics for logan <3

⤷ logansargeant is this why jenson keeps telling me that sharing is caring??

⤷ jensonbutton in my defence i told her it wouldn't work 🤷

⤷ yourusername we'll see about that - alex_albon do you feel cared for?

⤷ alex_albon im staying out of this.

oscarpiastri thank you y/n!

⤷ yourusername so proud of u bestie

⤷ oscarpiastri i already paid for dinner you can stop pretending to be nice now

⤷ yourusername brb faking an interest in our friendship rn

⤷ username10 she's never letting that comment go fr

username7 their friendship confuses me but im so here for it

username8 oscar paid? who's shocked

⤷ username9 not me!

⤷ username10 not me!

⤷ yourusername me tbf he usually forgets his wallet

⤷ oscarpiastri i leave it on purpose, actually

⤷ yourusername gold digger 🫵

username8 she literally only goes to the races so that she can post about it on ig and pretend she knows what's going on

logansargeant you never congratulate me :(

⤷ yourusername tf u want me to congratulate u for? brushing your teeth?

⤷ logansargeant no one else will :(

username6 where did u find that picture of oscar?

⤷ yourusername wdym find? i took it loool

yourusername made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe and 7,893 others

yourusername glorified uber drivers

tagged: logansargeant, alex_albon

view all 1,235 comments

logansargeant best biscuits ever

⤷ username5 biscuits?? that wasn't very wtf is a kilometer of you

⤷ yourusername one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧

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⤷ alex_albon one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧 one of us! 🇬🇧

⤷ logansargeant oh! so this is hell!

landonorris cute! don't do it again!

⤷ yourusername i snapped the head off yours hoping it was a voodoo doll.

⤷ username3 do they hate each other or..?

⤷ yourusername yes.

⤷ landonorris cancelling our lunch plans

⤷ yourusername i was kidding pls dont im so hungry

⤷ username4 lunch plans? y'all seeing this???

username6 the picture of logan im dead

⤷ yourusername he was modelling for his cookie design

lilymhe i want the alex one

⤷ yourusername boxed it up just for u <3

⤷ yourusername alex said he'd give it to u later

⤷ alex_albon i lied. i ate it. no regrets.

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 24,789 others

yourusername lando norris fakes an interest in the menu

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri

view all 1,432 comments

username5 y/n out here living our dream </3

⤷ username6 god i have seen what you've done for others 🙏

⤷ yourusername lando eats chicken nuggets with a fork you can have him

⤷ landonorris this is defamation, my lawyers will be in contact.

landonorris in my defence, that place was FANCY and i wanted to pretend i wasn’t about to order chicken nuggets and chips

⤷ yourusername fancy?? oscar literally ordered a cheeseburger??

⤷ oscarpiastri dont expose me like that y/n

⤷ logansargeant one of us! 🇺🇸🦅 one of us! 🇺🇸🦅

⤷ yourusername it's not funny when u do it <3

logansargeant you never want to go to lunch with me :(

⤷ username7 logan try not to get jealous challenge - hard

⤷ yourusername i literally had brunch with you like yesterday?

⤷ logansargeant ok and?

username11 she is never gonna let that comment go is she. we get it, you know f1.

⤷ yourusername why should i?

⤷ username11 it wasnt that deep

⤷ yourusername why should i give david coulthard the platform to perpetuate negative commentary on women in motorsport?

⤷ yourusername why do we keep allowing men to talk down to women with genuine interests instead of providing them with opportunities to excel in the field?

⤷ username2 say it louder for the people in the back queen

username1 lando looks so fineeeee

⤷ yourusername too bad he sucks at chess

⤷ landonorris you cheated!

lilymhe u look so sexy let me take u out 🫢

⤷ yourusername only if ur paying 🫢

⤷ lilymhe we’ll put it on alex’s card

⤷ yourusername sounds good

⤷ alex_albon do i have a say in this?

⤷ lilymhe no.

⤷ yourusername no.

⤷ landonorris no.

⤷ oscarpiastri no.

yourusername made a new post!

liked by lilymhe, logansargeant and 31,245 others

yourusername y/n l/n fakes an interest in getting her degree 🍾🥂

tagged: ybfusername, youruniversity

view all 2,103 comments

landonorris that caption isn't even a lie 🤐

⤷ yourusername sorry cant hear you over the sound of me being a graduate

⤷ landonorris did you not literally spend the last year asking if you’d “finish this degree or if it would finish you” ??

⤷ yourusername i literally have a piece of paper that says i finished it

⤷ landonorris talk to me when you get a trophy

⤷ yourusername ok mr won one race now thinks hes the shit

⤷ username4 gagged.

landonorris but fr, congratulations y/n! proud of you always!

⤷ username4 always huh? im smelling soft launch

⤷ username9 go back to bed grandma

oscarpiastri congrats on reading and writing stuff bestie!

⤷ yourusername thanks king! <3

username6 intelligent queen we loveee

username6 suck on that david coulthard.

⤷ yourusername he better be sleeping with one eye open

⤷ username11 got a degree and now thinks she's better than a literal racing legend

⤷ yourusername dude do u like need a hug or something? if i didn't know any better id think you were in love with me

username2 shes so unserious i love her

lilyzneimer congratulations gorgeous!

⤷ yourusername congratulations to you too lil <3

⤷ username3 hot girls get degrees 🤷 i don't make the rules

⤷ lilyzneimer still cant believe the girl that used to sleep in biology graduated university

⤷ yourusername me neither tbf

⤷ oscarpiastri same.

⤷ yourusername no one asked u vroom vroom

username13 what was your dissertation on?

⤷ yourusername net-zero carbon development in race mechanisms and engineering !

⤷ username13 oh you SMART smart

⤷ landonorris debatable

logansargeant well done! does this mean no more highlighters abandoned on the floor of williams hospitality?

⤷ alex_albon please say yes 🙏

⤷ yourusername but watching you trip over them was so funny 😟

ybfusername those 3am library trips finally paid off! 🙏

⤷ yourusername jet lagged delirium and caffeine i will miss u

⤷ ybfusername im so proud of us

lilymhe graduate, baker, sexiest woman alive - is there anything you cant do?

⤷ yourusername have a genuine interest in motorsport 🤷

⤷ lilymhe wait till they find out you fake an interest in golf too 💀

⤷ yourusername im only there to see u bbygirl

yourusername made a new post!

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 24,789 others

yourusername here to watch my friends drive fast cars.

tagged: lilymhe, landonorris

view all 703 comments

landonorris well, some of us drive fast cars

⤷ alex_albon what are you trying to say?

⤷ landonorris speak up a bit i cant hear you from the podium

username8 lando? yn?

⤷ username8 i feel like im interupting something

⤷ username4 can we let them just be friends and not ruin this pls

lilymhe oh we are so back

⤷ yourusername and we’re never leaving! <3

⤷ alex_albon oh god

⤷ logansargeant please no

⤷ yourusername fine, ill leave 😟

mclaren hope to see you in our garage soon y/n!

⤷ yourusername i have always looked good in papaya

⤷ username8 admin how much did lando pay u to say that?

⤷ mclaren 🤫

oscarpiastri williams take her back she keeps slapping my hat across the room

logansargeant you literally told me you're only here to get max’s autograph and sell it on ebay?

⤷ yourusername ok and?

⤷ maxverstappen1 poster or hat?

⤷ yourusername both please 🫶

⤷ maxverstappen1 bring a pen

⤷ username7 what have i just read?

⤷ maxverstappen1 im supporting y/n's financial endeavours?

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[devoutekuna]

Bring your child to work

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Sukuna doesn't have a job, you don't even know how he gets money. So he brings her to a village he recently raided, he sometimes raided them for resources or just for fun. Once he raided one just because he wasn't willing to pay for your pregnancy cravings. "Dad, this village is all burnt!" complaining at the sight of ash everywhere, kicking her foot through the charred grass blades. "Be quiet" glaring at his daughter as he walked away from her. He was trying to look for atleast a child to keep his daughter company. "Don't leave me!" Running up to him, he didn't understand how she could be scared when her father was the king of curses, plus it was broad daylight and no curse would dare get close to him.

Nanami-

"Let me come with you dad!" All dressed up in her father's clothes, frantically trying to tuck in the shirt, into her skirt. Stood Infront of the bathroom door, she had been awaiting her father to come out, walking out with a bottle of shaving foam in his hand. "You can't sweetheart" crouching down to say it, patting her head as a way to comfort her. She had gotten all dressed up by stealing her father's shirt and tie only to be rejected, even putting in his reading glasses to make her seem more professional. He knew for a fact that she wouldn't be coming with him to work, especially since he was on a mission today. Grabbing her by her shoulders as he dragged her out of the way. "Why not?" Begging for a chance. "Cause I said so" walking towards you.

Sat inside the office reading a book, he purposely didn't take any missions today so that his daughter thought that his job was boring and wouldn't ask again. "Dad, your work is boring!" Sat on the armchair beside him, she had nothing to do but wait for the 9 hours to pass. "I told you that" letting her sit through her actions.

Geto-

Geto has his daughter stand behind the curtains whilst he talks to his followers, not wanting her to hear anything he has to say, especially what would come after he gets mad. He has a personal servant bring her noise cancelling headphones when he starts to get annoyed. Crouching beside her as they played a game, she was so clueless to what her beloved father was doing. Murdering the so-called 'monkeys' of society. "When is my daddy done?" Pats on the head, despite having the headphones on she could recognise that from anywhere. "Right here princess" retracting his hand as he picked her up. Taking the headphones off, dropping them into the servant's hand as he walked off. "Hi daddy!"

Gojo-

When Gojo isn't busy, he's either at home with you or teaching his students, unfortunately for them, they were on a mission already. So he was just laying around in his office. "Dad I'm bored" sat on the sofa opposite him. "So am I" slouching in his chair, there was nothing to do. Even his second year students were on a mission. "Let's go see Nanamin" dragging his son out of his office, searching around the campus just to find the blond. Sat in one of the many lounge rooms. A sigh depleting from his mouth as he heard the voice of the strongest. "What is it now?" Refusing to look up from the book. "Nanamin!" Your son knew who Nanami was due to the many times that Gojo dropped him off on the campus when he went on missions. Despite his many times to stop Gojo's son from calling him 'nanamin' it never worked out since he was so much like his father. "We've come to see you!" Sitting down opposite him. "Are you sure you haven't come to drop your son off?" Receiving the snarky comment was like a bullet to the chest, but he was wrong this time.

Toji-

Toji wasn't officially employed, he was basically unemployed but he always acted like he was employed since he brought in good amounts of money. "Papa I want to help" kicking her little legs as she sat playing with one of the weapons. Her father was currently discussing the new target he had, redacting any words that she may pick up on. "No" Shiu carried on rambling on about the prices he would get if it was under a specific time. "Why not!?" Slapping the poor man with the weapon, fortunately it was blunt, just like playful cloud. "Cause you'll get in my way" ripping the weapon from her hands, putting it back inside the worm. Scrunching up her face as soon as she heard the harsh reality, "Mr Shiu would let me come!" Trying to prove her point even more. "No I wouldn't" he should be smoking right now but didn't for the courtesy of your kid, patting the girl's head as they walked out. Toji following behind him, chuckles could be heard as they left.

[songsofadelaide]

All of your colleagues in the office knew of Satoru's long-standing crush on you. Who would have known that behind his sharp wit and debonair aura, he was actually an absolute sap of a man?

They didn't know he looked up to you so much because you bailed him out of an error-riddled document he made when he was just starting the job. It was only normal for you to do so since he was your junior, and you didn't want to get chewed out by your Department Chief.

But after that night of overtime, you were his saviour, and the last thing he wanted to do was saddle you with any more grunt work, so he worked doubly hard to submit perfect reports to you.

Even you had to admit that Satoru was a good-looking kid. He was always dressed impeccably well and smelled amazing, too. He's two years your junior but an incredibly quick learner— so much so that the Department Chief started taking notice of him, too. You wouldn't be surprised if he got promoted to team leader soon.

And though you've seen how dependable he is when it comes to work, he still can't help but act a little spoiled and babyish around you. He'd ask you to fix his tie for him, or maybe straighten out his collar. It's always your opinion he seeks out first whenever there are team discussions, as though he was showing off and asking you to back up his ideas. He had a good head on his shoulders, but he tends to forget whenever you're around.

Satoru's crush on you has been a long-time open secret at the office. You've been asked how you felt about the whole thing and you didn't really have much of a thought about it. Though it made you wonder... If he liked you that much, why hasn't he ever made a move on you for real? Then again, how would you react if that were to happen?

And that made you think. A lot.

And drink.

A lot.

After closing yet another deal at work, your Department Chief called for a night of celebration— their treat, too, and somehow your glass of beer became a bottomless well that was only pulled away from you by none other than Satoru, who saw you had way too much to drink that night because—

You didn't want to think.

But, oh, how could you not? Your adorable junior held you to his chest as he gently wrestled the half-empty beer glass out of your hands— wait, adorable? Satoru was six feet of coolness, for the lack of a better word. Surely you aren't talking about that Satoru—

"Senpai, you're drunk."

His voice echoed in your ear, but you couldn't hear anything from the sound of his heartbeat against your cheek. He sounded far too calm for someone whose heart was in hysterics. The sound soothed you so much that you were already half-asleep in his arms while the rest of your team noisily and happily drank their fill in the brightly lit izakaya.

You were awoken by the sound of your Department Chief's farewell spiel for the week. It was a Friday night and tomorrow was a day-off so everyone had the luxury of nursing their hangovers for as long as they could the morning after. You could only faintly hear their words of thanks, followed by "it's about time we wrapped up" and "we'll leave the team leader to you, Gojo-kun".

"Mmnngh..."

You felt Satoru's chest tremble, closely followed by a soft chuckle. "Senpai, stop grumbling. Bucho-san said thanks for your efforts. We're going home now."

How you got home was a mystery, because you remember walking half-asleep in your junior's arms and falling into an even deeper sleep on the cab ride home. He nearly carried you to your bed, but not without laying you down with the gentleness of a mother setting her child to sleep. Somehow your bed smelled just like him...

He was about to turn away from you when you pulled him by his necktie. Surely you can reward him a bit... "Gojo-kun, you like me, don't you?"

Oh, who am I kidding? At this point, you already overthought and confirmed that you liked him back. "I like you, too, so..."

"...Senpai? You're drunk, s-so don't—" He was back to his babyish way again, but he was obviously just taken aback by your sudden boldness. You pulled him down until you were caged in his arms, his rigid torso looming over you, his kind yet confused blue eyes drinking in your features like he hadn't had enough earlier that night.

"I'll sleep with you, but only if you consider this a dream."

"You mean to say...?"

Satoru sounded like he was considering things.

"Forget about everything when you wake up."

Imagine your embarrassment the following morning when you discovered you weren't at your place but at Satoru's apartment instead. You were confident he'd leave quietly after last night but that wasn't the case since it was you who stayed over. Forget about everything when you wake up. Tough luck. And stupid of me to even—

You were still fully clothed. And Satoru was nowhere to be found on his bed.

"Are you awake, senpai? I laid out a change of clothes for you and made breakfast for us, so come out when you're ready!"

For all your big talk last night, you were incredibly ashamed by the whole ordeal. It was embarrassing enough that he had to witness such an uncool side of you, but even more so now that you were imposing on the young man's kindness. Still, you decided to change into a fresh shirt that smelled just like him and face the music.

There he was, setting his dinner table with an elated smile that grew even wider when he saw you in his shirt. "Good morning, senpai! I hope you don't mind sandwiches for breakfast. I don't usually eat rice in the morning..."

He sat you down across from him and laid a plate of what looked like a club sandwich, the bread lightly toasted and the greens still moist from washing.

"Gojo-kun—"

"Before anything else, there's something I have to tell you... About last night, senpai... You said you liked me too. And all night I felt terrible because I never even got around to confessing to you and you beat me to it," Satoru stated, but not before concluding with a small sigh of defeat. "Then again, you were drunk last night, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was just your alcohol-fueled—"

"Don't say that, Gojo-kun! I-I meant what I said, s-so please don't just dismiss them as drunk ramblings," you said in surprise, raising your hands in defence as you reasoned with him. He reached out for your hands from across the table, and you could have sworn you felt him slightly trembling. In... In nervousness? If that were the case, he really does a good job of not showing it at all.

"I like you, senpai," he said with his normal, straightforward coolness that seemed to have everyone at work hooked onto him. Though his gaze seemed to soften as he looked away from you sheepishly, his babyish side rearing its head this time. "And if... if that offer of yours from last night still stands... At least don't tell me to forget about it."

I suppose I like both of them. Both his cool and his cute side, you thought to yourself. You won't be forgetting that Saturday morning anytime soon. And neither would he.

[xzhdjsj]

To Settle?

Dontis x Reader

Discussing your relationship with Dontis

warning: implication of sex and minor mentions

Heh did yall have a good time with the previous dontis fic? I hope you did hehehehehehe

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's funny how the brain works, processing every possible outcome of life and fantasising of the ones you can't have.

It's even funnier- the timing these unprofitable thoughts manifest. Sometimes it's when you're alone, clinging to a pillow, and other times it's in the dark of night when you’re with him. They occur in his bed, beneath him, beside him. Sometimes after your heart stopped racing and you're able to collect the pieces of thoughts. Or maybe when his naked body pulls you close to breathe in your scent and kiss you slow. 

But it's bewildering, so you keep it to yourself, bottled up in the back of your mind with a pretty bow of hope attached its neck.

As your lover falls onto his back next to you and the rapid rise and fall of your chest slows, the thoughts appear again. They linger with each fleeting touch and flourish with every loving word.

"I'll never ever get used to that." He rolls onto his side to kiss you.

You don't respond, instead you hum in satisfaction and lean closer into his palm against your cheek.

What if this lasted forever? You wonder.

"Yeah? It was good for you too, right?" He murmurs against your lips, soft and delicate.

"Yeah," you breathe. "Always good, but you already knew that."

He huffs out at a laugh at your response then kisses you again.

It's tender moments like this that makes you crave it more, the desire to have someone entirely to yourself and settle into a peaceful life.

Growing up in a hunter family meant constantly moving, relocating to avoid dangers and escape threats. An ever-changing path that you knew as home, but now you find yourself at an interval, a station between what once was and what can be. Naturally, the familiar gets boring and the want for change reigns victorious in your internal turmoil, but now questions remain. How? How do you begin a process of settling? How will the sediments of your life fall to the bottom? And can he settle with you?

Dontis nuzzles into your neck, clinging to your body, something he's began to repeat each night you see him. Majority of his actions are in benefit of who he's with, but this one feels more like comfort for himself, and you get enjoy it as a bonus. 

Your body curls closer to him, giggling lightly as a lock of his hair finds its way to your ear and drags across your neck, "It tickles-"

"What?" He replies, continuing his action.

"Pfft seriously- stop" You laugh, pushing him away gently.

He rolls over onto his stomach, as if you'd tossed him aside roughly, then propped his face onto one of his palms. 

"You're so mean," he tilts his head. "Don't you wanna snuggle up with me?" 

He has a way with your feelings- with your heart, even your body reacts to him without your permission. A smile spreads across your face and you cup his cheeks. "We can cuddle if you control your hair." 

"I thought you loved my hair?" He grins, leaning closer to your face. 

"I do. Just not when it's tickling me." You respond, tilting your head in the opposite direction.

"Sour luck, I love hearing you laugh." 

And again, his lips are on yours. The action is imbedded into the core of your memories, the spark that runs under your skin and the way your chest flutters when he kisses you.

Once again, Dontis collapses onto the bed beside you. He beckons you onto his chest and you follow. It was the perfect way to fall asleep, in his arms, in the silent dark save for his heartbeat, but you just had to speak.

"Dontis?" You murmur.

"Hmm yes sweetheart?"

"Do you ever think of us?"

"Of course I do."

"Really? What about our relationship?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I don't know, I keep thinking of what we are, and it feels more than just a fling-like relationship."

Your response prompted confusion, "A fling? This isn't a fling sweetheart."

"No, I know that." You pull back to face him, "I just think we're way more than we make this out to be. And maybe it’s time we think about what's next."

"What are you saying?" His eyebrows furrow and you're almost scared to continue, but hope, your hope keeps you going.

"I want to settle down Dontis."

Your words had more power than you bargained for, one sentence, six simple words and everything shifted. You could feel his body shift against the mattress, and you could pinpoint the exact moment the mood was crushed. 

"Hunter we- we spoke about this." He says and his body raises to a sitting position.

You copy his actions, sitting up with him. "Yeah, I know, but that was a while ago and we're still together so-"

"Hunter." He interrupts. "It's still the same."

"What?" You question, finding his eyes in the dark. They're tormented but apologetic.

"What we spoke about, it still stands. If you want to settle down, it's your decision but that... that's not my nature." He sighs. 

"Right, yes." Your fingers twist and pinch at the blanket. "Sorry, I guess I was just hoping time would've changed something." 

The tears welled in your eyes, and you seek out anything in the dark but the man next to you.

"I'm sorry," his voice carries a sadness you've never heard before, especially not from him. He slips his legs from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment.

"I think I need a moment and I think you can do with that too." He tells you.

Dontis retrieved the sweatpants and T-shirt that was earlier discarded on the floor. He pulls the pants over his hips and offers you the shirt.

"Here, put this on. It's pretty cold in here." He offers softly.

"Ah thank you." You take the piece of fabric from his hand, hesitant to wear it, but you do anyway. Anything to avoid looking at him.

The last thing you heard before the door closed behind him, was his gentle accented voice telling you "I'll be in the living room, just call if you need me."

And with that, you were left alone. Alone with new thoughts and foolish possibilities. Alone with tears running down your cheeks and his shirt on your skin. Alone with an uncovered bottle of feelings but an untied bow of hope.

-

[scoatneyhall]

WILD. Was anyone else aware that the Ted Lasso team has gone in and made post-production edits on season 3 episodes, sometime in the last year?

I've been rewatching the finale in advance of the one year anniversary of it airing, and straight off, I noticed that the points total on the graphic looked different to how I remembered it - a much closer race. It stuck out because I remembered being annoyed that they didn't celebrate the moment Richmond got confirmed for the Champions League, as the gap was big enough for it to have happened a while ago, offscreen. I still have a screencap from when the episode aired:

However, the current copy on Apple has an updated graphic, making the post-production graphic in line with the numbers on the actual physical whiteboard prop and the script mentioning the win streak. See here:

The corrected copy makes Richmond's points match the whiteboard, but it also puts the teams in 3rd to 5th place much closer to them points-total wise, meaning that now, in the current version of the episode, Richmond only qualified for the UCL in "Mom City," making it make more sense that the start of 3.12 is the first time it gets discussed. Would have been nice to mention that stake in the City match commentary during 3.11, but I genuinely am shocked that they went back in and edited the already-published episodes to clean up the post-production errors. For the record, here's the whiteboard as of 3.08: W10, D9, L6.

Just in case anyone cares, the order of those results was - 1 draw against Chelsea, 6 wins with Zava, 1 loss against West Ham, the rest of the draws and losses occurring between 3.05 and the loss against Arsenal in 3.07, and then the 4 wins mentioned at the start of 3.08. By the start of 3.12, it's mentioned they are on a 16 game win streak, so that's 22 wins overall, 9 draws, 6 losses, going into the final weekend, hence the updated graphic.

I like that they went in and fixed it - no idea when in the past 12 months that occured - but I also kind of can't believe they bothered? Then again, I can't believe the mistake was made in the first place, as they were so specific with details in the prior seasons, so maybe they couldn't live with it being wrong.

I know there were rumours about a ton of issues in terms of getting these episodes posted in time - right down to the wire, still fixing the edit on the airdate - and it's clear that these details were not checked and confirmed by the poor people in post who were not working off the show bible that lives in the writers heads. I don't blame them at all, I blame the people who got the edit to them late, but it did annoy me during the season a LOT. The maths wasn't mathing, and as we know this is a show that has been careful with dates and timelines and stuff like that.

Anyway! The point is, a) this post about my UCL qualification fantasies is now moot, and b) I went back and checked another post production error that had REALLY pissed me off, which was the dates of texts in Ted's phone in 3.04. Phone dates have always given us the timeline quite strictly before - it's how @belmottetower and I started the timeline in our primer, with Ted arriving in London on January 6, 2020 and then following the football seasons from there to place the season 3 finale in May 2022 - but in 3.04, all the cute texts we see to all the characters in his phone were badly misdated, placing the timeline further in the future. This caused arguments or misunderstandings, at the time about the actual timeline of the show, but it seems this was another detail the producers really wanted to fix and tighten up, as they've gone back and had it edited.

It's weird, because the texts Ted was actually going back to - the messages from Doctor Jacob - were dated correctly as late 2019, and there's even a little easter egg in the form of a US rideshare notification picking him up to go to the airport in America, on 5 January 2020. (Even the area code, 316, is apparently correct to Kansas.) That's all correct even in the original version of the episode, but somehow we then skip a year and place his most recent texts, as of 3.04, in late October 2022, when they should only be in late September or early October 2021. (I found this post on Reddit that screenshotted his phone at the time.) Examples:

I had to go back and check this, and sure enough, it's been edited to reflect the established timeline - they didn't just redate the year on each message, they also changed a bunch of the chats to be more recent - so rather than dates, his most recent chats with Henry, the Coaches, etc are from "Yesterday," then the first dated texts are in very late September 2021. This matches up pretty perfectly with where they are in a typical Premier League season - they REALLY cleaned it up. Further back, they do just switch the years on the dates, so he still got a picture from Sassy last Valentines Day, and his last one-on-one contact with Jamie is still set before the events of Wembley in 2.08 (FA Cup semi finals are in April, so a few weeks after the March 2021 date on Jamie's chat.)

My brain is itching because I swear there was a screen of Nate and Ted's text chat at some point too? With Ted reaching out about his new job, on a date that deeply did not work with the timeline? But maybe I imagined it. There's no record of Nate's number in his phone at all now, and the texts date back to before Nate left, so I guess in this version of events, Ted deleted Nate's number and message history.

Anyway, I'm aware that basically no one is going to care about this, but I suspect that the three people who will actually care will REALLY FUCKING CARE. Has anyone else noticed it? Does anyone know when it may have happened? Does anyone know what else might have been changed or fixed? I love details and I love the fact that there is no longer conflicting data about what football seasons the show is covering - it's mid 19/20 to the end of 21/22, end of story - but what a fucking mess the production of season 3 must have been, to end up at this point!

[jakey-death-scene]

Recently there was a child murder case here in Finland, where a young man who had been previously interrogated by police for posting sexual murder fantasies on a popular forum (And then got away because he seepishly admitted it was just an edgy joke) raped and killed a girl. He was arrested just two days ago so this is very fresh.

The discussion has once again shifted to "We need to care more about men's mental health!"

Even though the man in question never showed any signs of mental illness? Not, if the police saw nothing threatening about the forum posts he had been caught writing. Clearly it didn't take a mystery mental illness to make him write about how the thought of strangling women makes him aroused. Hell how can you attribute that to mental illness when strangulation is such a popular and accepted "normal sex thing" these days? I even posted my own translation of a news article here recently, where a young Finnish woman detailed how she had been in multiple sexual encounters with men who had suddenly started strangling her, all who were entirely normal average men.

Any feminist take on the issue gets made fun of.

When feminists have raised their voices about this incident men have literally answered with "Well if you stopped yelling at us and approached us nicely, maybe we would change". "When you call us bad people it just makes us want to listen to you less, I don't want to listen to you when you yell about how bad men are".

The single most enraging take I've seen on the incident is that it's actually OFFENSIVE TO MEN that people are concerned for this literal murderer rapist's mental health. I've seen men literally claim that people's anger at this is proof that we live in a "gynocentric society" because "Well you only care about it now that a GIRL has died, maybe he wouldn't have had to kill her if you cared about him earlier! This is female privilege!"

... Every time I begin wondering about my feminist stances again, something like this happens all over again. Something happens all over again and I just begin to hate men even more.

[vocallywritten]

People who think Lord Debling was the better choice for Penelope are just Portia Featherington alt accounts. Colin wasn't the only one putting up a front this season. Maybe people don't pick up on it as easily because Penelope also has the Whistledown thing going on as a more obvious through line to the overall theme of the season.

But Penelope, from the moment she decides to make herself over and find a husband, is trying to be someone she is not just as much as Colin is.

Penelope is a romantic. She is starved for love in every aspect of her life, especially after her falling out with Eloise.

She says so herself to Debling that she enjoys reading romances because they give her hope for a better life. All Penelope truly wants is love, and that desire is also the greatest source of pain for her because she does not believe she will ever have it. That she is even worthy of it.

So yes, Lord Debling was kind, and even charming. He had money, and a title, and in many ways he was the smartest match Penelope could ever hope to make.

But he did not love her, and explicitly told her that he was unsure he ever could.

Penelope spent the first part of the season talking a big game about finding a smart match. A match that would get her out of her mother's house and also give her the freedom she required to conduct her Whistledown business. Her needs are utilitarian and she believes she cannot be too picky and probably thought herself capable of marrying the first halfway decent man who showed an interest.

Only when she is confronted with the reality of this "ideal match", her first instinct is not to feel pleased with her success. If she had truly wanted to marry Lord Debling, she would not have been so hesitant when he asked her mother's permission. Instead, Penelope tells her mother that she "hasn't told him yes yet." That she is unsure if she WANTS to say yes.

Because when Lord Debling was discussing the possibility of marriage with her, Penelope only had eyes for Colin. And that, dear reader, is because Penelope is still a romantic. She cannot help it. And that is why she is so hesitant about Lord Debling's possible proposal.

Penelope is not the extreme pragmatist her mother is and while her mother sees the title, the money, and above all the security that marrying Debling will bring, she is blind to the truth of the situation. That the life Debling offers would be empty and lonely to a woman who longs for love and connection.

To say that Penelope should have chosen Debling is to fundamentally misunderstand her character. For all that she is ambitious and, yes, even pragmatic in her own way, she is also an idealist. She wants to believe in love, in the possibility of a better future. If she were to accept Debling's proposal, she would end up even more alone than before, even more cut off from the love she so desperately wants.

I have a theory that Penelope was never going to actually accept Debling's proposal after he admitted that he would probably never grow to love her. I think that was the final nail in the coffin for her. I'm pretty sure that the only thing that made her run after him to try to fix things was the fact that she was so annoyed with Colin that she was motivated mostly by spite. And even if she did accept him, I think she would have experienced some pretty severe cold feet very quickly.

Because, again, PENELOPE IS A ROMANTIC. She longs for love and romance. I've seen some people act like Penelope should have accepted Debling because she 1) should have been grateful to be noticed at all (ew) 2) she should have been smart and gone with the "smart match" 3) they hate Colin. These people are just Portia Featherington in disguise, I swear. Not a romantic bone in their body. This show is a ROMANCE not a gritty period drama. Choosing your heart over logic, or over what society tells you to do is a staple of the genre.

[lolahauri]

in ur shane abc you said he’d like fucking in the joja break room but the only one who’d likely walk in is sam… i don’t think he’d stop fucking you if sam walking in and maybe he’d offer to share? ;)

anon i love you, are our minds connected or smth? i was literally imagining that as i typed it out! here's a lil drabble for you bestie.

-> gn reader & pronouns, not proofread. <-

~

so imagine you and shane have been married for a while. everything is great, except for one thing. sam. sam is absolutely head-over-heels in love with you. you're oblivious to it, but shane sees it clear as day. he sees the way sam blushes when you talk to him or give him a gift, the way he eye-fucks you when you're wearing some tight jeans or a crop top, the way he always seems to make his best jokes when you're around, it's so fucking obvious and it pisses him off that you don't believe him.

but it pisses him off more that sam can't seem to get the hint that you're his. so, he makes a plan. he's going to show sam just who you belong to.

you'd had your fair share of hookups in the joja breakroom before, so he knew it wouldn't raise any suspicion when he texts you to come by on his break. what you didn't know was that you were coming by just five minutes before sam was scheduled for his own break.

~

the minute you snuck into the room with shane, he had you bent over the table, taking you hard and fast from behind. one of his large hands was cupped around your mouth, the other had a firm grip on your ass cheek. you didn't know what had gotten into him today, but you were loving the aggression, he was pounding into you so hard you were practically seeing stars.

and because of the state you were in, you didn't even notice at first when sam walked in. but shane did... he was looking right at him with a shit-eating grin on his face, watching sam's wide-eyes dart between you and him.

when you did notice him, you gasped into shane's hand, tapping on him to try and warn him someone was there. he only stopped briefly to ease your worries.

"yeah, yeah. i know he's there, doll, don't worry."

wait, what?

you weren't sure how to feel at first. you did find sam cute and all, maybe you even had a crush on him, but you never really discussed this beforehand. did sam plan this too? would it be considered cheating if you liked it? why is this turning you on so much?

shane just laughed at your confused expression, "you look so worried. c'mon, don't cha wanna give him a show? looks like he's waiting, doll."

you looked up to see sam unzipping his jeans just a few feet away from you. when his cock finally sprung out, you couldn't help but clench around shane. it's so long

"shit, you're squeezing me tight. you like this, huh?" shane started to thrust into you again, going in sync with sam's strokes. "you like having an audience? maybe i'll let you suck him off, too. give him a little taste of what i get from you every night. ya want that, babe?"

shane removed his hand when you nodded, looking back up at sam and fucking into you a little faster. "what d'ya say, sam? you want 'em to blow you? don't be shy, they're looking forward to it."

"Ah- fuck yes." sam groaned out. you parted your lips immediately, sticking out your tongue and eagerly waiting for him to slide it in. he didn't waste any time either. he pumped his cock in front of your face a few more times before pushing in down your throat.

you felt a couple tears threaten to spill from gagging, but you didn't want to stop. they were soon fucking you perfectly in sync. every time sam hit the back of your throat, shane bottomed out in your sensitive hole.

the pleasure was beginning to be too much for you, it was exciting. you'd never done something like this, let alone in such a risky place. you almost felt like you could cum hands-free from this, from being used like a toy by your husband and best friend.

as soon as their thrusts started getting sloppy, shane reached around to finish you off before they came. "cum for us, doll. let him hear how pretty you sound cummin' on my cock." that's all it took for you. you screamed out in pleasure, sending vibrations up sam's cock, and squeezing down on shane's.

both of them reached their high right after yours, filling you to brim with their fresh loads. you wished they didn't have to pull out, though. you'd never felt so full, so complete in your life. was it wrong to love this so much? maybe...

~

as you all cleaned up and got dressed, sam finally spoke up. "so, uh... could we do that again sometime?"

shane laughed, "we'll see about that. but first-" he turned you and playfully slapped your ass, "you go home, take a shower, and wait in bed. i'm not done with you just yet."

shit, it's gonna be long day.

[wonton4rang]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: bnd legal line x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, rough sex, spitting, and idk lmk if i missed something.

summary: bnd legal line mtl (most to least) to rough sex.

note: this had to be discussed and i can't go to sleep without doing so !!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho; even though it wouldn't be his go to type of sex, he would do it more often than you'd think, taking you from behind while he held your neck with one hand and held your arms in your back with the other, he would moan in your ear, pressing his body more onto yours and making you feel so full while your cheek pressed against the cold wall. he would tell you how good you feel and his hips would be accelerating their pace before he came inside of you, showing some possessiveness he usually didn't have. i also strongly believe he would have a small/ recurrent strength kink.

riwoo; he's a wild card tbh, i can't seem to read him that well when it comes to sex or maybe i am not paying attention, but i do think he could have his days, switching from cowgirl to doggy style, his hand having a grip in your hair and you almost crying out on how hard he was fucking you. it felt good, specially because it was a weird thing to happen during sex w u two, it made you excited and it made him feel bigger when he handled you like that. pulling out to come in your ass is the ultimate thing he would do to show his "dominant" side. and btw, you know about dancer stamina right? cause if you always did two rounds, you'll do at least four of five before he lets you go today.

jaehyun; myungjae has such a whiny voice and a hyper and sweet personality that we all the time see him as a mere sub but oh, let me tell you that he can also be very rough when it comes to fucking you. i feel like he would be drinking with you or just very happy and horny when he tells you about this thing he wants to try, it was basically him overpowering you and yes please!! he would hold your legs open with his hands on your thighs, pressing them down and watching how his dick gets lost each time he pounds into your soaked pussy, i can definitely see him lowering one of his hands so he could play with your clit and maybe even insert his thumb with his cock in your pussy. telling you how dirty you looked taking his dick and finger into your pussy like a slut, dirty talk would be his thing 100%

taesan; i just know he is messy and i don't make the rules!!! he would grab your hair, spit in your mouth with a grin on his lips and fuck you so fast and rough you can barely think straight. he would fuck you in missionary because he needs to see your face, he needs to feel you close and he certainly needs to be able to spit in your mouth after slapping your face once or twice. he ain't much of a talker but he would let smalls "so pretty, so hot" that would give you a hint on how good he is feeling, as if his moans and the way his dick twitched inside of you were not enough. i don't think it'll be a reccurent thing tho, he is probably more into regular sex rather than rough but he has a HUGE size kink that takes over every once in a while.

leehan; and the prize to the messiest mf goes toooooo, hear me ouuuuut. every time he went up to you and told you he was horny and needed to fuck you, you just knew what was coming (asides from u two yk) you regularly got on top of him and ride his dick but when his hands gripped your hips and he dropped you on the bed just so he could straddle in the back of your thighs and fuck you in prone bone??? you were quite literally fucked, he wouldn't show mercy on you, fucking you fast and hard, so deep that it even made you shake each time the tip of his cock hit your cervix. that until he layed you on your back, slapping your pussy after spitting on it, he is so dirty and you can tell he is enjoying it way too much when he smiled at you before slamming his hips against yours once again.

overall, taking into consideration the frequency with the one i think it'd happen, for this one i think I'll go:

MOST.

leehan. not a surprise.

sungho. he is actually really close to leehan's place tbh. not because he would like rough sex itself but he just likes the dominant part of it, how strong he feels during it.

jaehyun. iykyk, he can be cute but he is a man after all, and he is also a very energetic person so he would fold you a thousand times and come back for more.

taesan. i personally think he would enjoy it A LOT but it's just that his personality doesn't show this eager desire of rough sex :') i've said it before but i don't think he is really into sex in general and he does gives off vibes of being more in a "calm" side so yeah.

riwoo. almost same as taesan's, but i also think it's because he is a submissive person so it wouldn't be something very reccurent.

LEAST.

what do y'all think?

[shaunashipman]

what gets me is that date scene was a literally under a minute long which isn’t a whole loft of time exactly of dissect the inner workings of their daddy issues. the minute they had, they used it to its full potential because we had:

- buck and tommy being casually domestic together on their date night in, which while nice, wasn’t like a super fancy thing and shows that this is probably a common occurrence for them. (especially when you see episode 9 and Bobby’s mention of buck going to visit tommy after the shift)

- buck telling tommy about his day, tommy making a joke about the dedicated hospital wing but recognizes that buck is not okay so he ASKS him pointedly how HE is

- buck shares the close relationship he has with bobby and this seems to be the first time they’re delving into that and so of course tommy wants to understand better, hence why he says “your dads alive”, buck replies exactly and tommy gets an understanding buck doesn’t have a great relationship with his father (also I have to add buck sharing how he sees bobby as a father with tommy is a big deal esp considering the buck bobby scene last episode where bobby tells buck tommys good for him soooo)

- tommy then shares his OWN experience after that, bounces off of what buck says to add to the conversation and open up to his boyfriend about his own past so he can get to know him better too. it was a moment where they were both vulnerable (the Gerard mention in particular i 100% believe is to set up an arc with tommy in season 8)

Now at this point there isn’t a whole lot of time left in the scene like maybe 20-25 seconds? they can exactly like I said sit there and examine and analyze their childhoods and their fathers so the tone switches to a more light hearted vibe because it would be weird to end it on a heavy note AND simultaneously it gives us more insight into their relationship

- buck suggestively says the daddy issues line which again, how anyone interpreted that as him wanting to continue a serious discussion is beyond me when again, the scene has hardly any time remaining

- tommy picks up the vibe he’s putting down and tells him he doesn’t have them (he clearly does have daddy issues so again, we know this isn’t about the actual trauma but about sex and what they both like/dislike )

- buck once again responds suggestively with the “you think I do”

- and then tommy with his infamous “God I hope so” - leaving buck giddy and smiling because he got exactly what he wanted

tdlr; We got domestic bucktommy, tommy backstory, both of them being vulnerable with each other, Tommy recognising he was not a good person in the past under Gerard, a set up for a tommy storyline with Gerard in some way for seaosn 8, bucktommy flirting, bucktommy matching each others freak and both very much enjoying it, bucktommy showing they can read each others moods like??? all for his in a scene that was under a minute

that scene was such a masterclass of Show Don't Tell. they had 55 seconds to get across how they're doing and where they are in the relationship and they did it. we can see that they're comfortable with each other; that they're okay with opening up about vulnerable topics but haven't had in-depth conversations on some, like buck and his parents; we can even see some of how they communicate, with tommy relating to buck's admission with similar thoughts of his own father and father-figure (something we've seen tommy do before, and is a lovely subtle showing of his personality); and then we get confirmation that yes, these two have fucked already, and are clearly compatible in that department too.

plus another sprinkle of foreshadowing with gerrard.

in 55 seconds.

that is called economy of time/space/whatever the rule is i can't remember rn. the show doesn't always get it, but when they do it is golden

[lycheedr3ams]

Ahhh please please yes könig analysis and characterization please 🙏🏾

I feel so bad, I forgot to respond to this when I posted my first König character analysis post. Here's the second one!

König Character Analysis

Part 1: His past | Part 2: König's MBTI

I know the validity of the MBTI/16 personalities is debated in the psychology world, but I personally think it can be a good baseline guide to understanding someone's personality. My MBTI is accurate for me and a lot of people I know, so I wanted to do König's. The MBTI is a personality assessment based on the following traits: introvert/extrovert, sensing/intuition, thinking/feeling, and judging/perceiving. you can take a test to see which traits you fit (I like this one) for example, I'm INTJ: introvert, intuition, thinking, and judging. see here for more detailed info (I take quotes from this source throughout the post)

I think König's MBTI is...ISTJ (more details at end of post)

Introvert is obvious, we all know könig prefers to be alone. it's never explicitly stated, but heavily implied based off his bio about being bullied and misunderstood. he also wears a sniper hood all the time. mans is not social

Sensing may be less obvious, but this is what it is: "People who prefer sensing tend to pay a great deal of attention to reality, particularly to what they can learn from their own senses. They tend to focus on facts and details and enjoy getting hands-on experience." I think this makes the most sense for konig. as someone who has been bullied and needs to be hyper alert to stay alive at work, sensing makes much more sense for him than intuition. konig doesn't seem like someone who has much intuition, or even trusts in such things. Being Austrian, konig is also likely very practical and to the point, so he wouldn't have any need or place value in an intangible thing like intuition.

Thinking is obvious for konig, I think. I'm not saying konig doesn't have emotions of course, but he doesn't seem like the type of person to live by his heart. Again likely a cultural difference, Konig would be practical and value facts over feelings. About people who are thinking: "They tend to be consistent, logical, and impersonal when weighing a decision." Also as a mercenary, there isn't any room for emotionally-charged decisions. Konig is for sure a thinker. I don't think a feeler would do well as a mercenary personally.

Judging suits konig better than perceiving: "Those who lean toward judging prefer structure and firm decisions." Of course konig values structure, he went into the military when he was 17! This is also another cultural thing most likely, since Austrians tend to be very formal and respect hierarchy. I'm not saying every Austrian is like this, but you get me. Also as a mercenary, konig must make firm decisions, unlike perceivers who "lean toward perceiving are more open, flexible, and adaptable." I don't think konig is the type of guy to sit down and have a democratic discussion. it's his way or the highway and you can't change my mind (unless it's coming from a higher-ranking officer). konig knows he's damn good at what he does, and he's going to make the best decisions for the team. listen to his voice dialogues, he's constantly telling people that it's "better off in my hands" or to give something to him for safe keeping. if you want something done right, do it yourself, is likely his motto

This is my reasoning that konig is an ISTJ

...

Here's the 16 personalities website description of ISTJ:

"People with the ISTJ personality type (Logisticians) mean what they say and say what they mean, and when they commit to doing something, they make sure to follow through. With their responsible and dependable nature, it might not be so surprising that ISTJ personalities also tend to have a deep respect for structure and tradition. They are often drawn to organizations, workplaces, and educational settings that offer clear hierarchies and expectations."

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[diaphanoushyperfixation]

Just Edwin and Charles living in my head without paying any rent

*Charles just took some inconsiderate risk on a mission*

E: Charles, I was so afraid of losing you

C: But I'm ok you do not have to be sorry Edwin *hugs him*

E: *blushes and step out of it* you are crazy

C: Yeah but the kind you like kind of crazy *smirks proud of himself as usual*

E: *shy and awkward around his feelings, feeling mocked*

C: *notices and takes his hands* hey, listen man, I know we haven't talked about it but as I told you when we were coming back from hell, it's ok really, you're still my buddy

E: yeah... thank you*looks at him in the eye and smiles, because he doesn't wait for something more, he knows Charles is straight and likes women but he still feels a little something, a pain in his chest*

*a little later Charles talks with Crystal about the risk he took before and why people might worry*

C: But I was ok! I had the situation secured i don't understand why he has to worry

🔮: Charles you have to understand, how would you react if it was Edwin who did something so careless?

C: Edwin would never act like that! I'll always be there for him so he never has to worry about it.

🔮: But sometimes you can't do anything, right? Like with the Cat Kings crush events-

C: Don't even mention that guy!

🔮: It's more of a god- but yeah yeah sorry I forgot how jealous you were.

C: Me?? Jealous?? *looks at her in disbelief*

🔮: *between laugh and cries, watches from head to toe* yeah you, or like with Monty, it's ok, you like to have Edwin's attention, and guys that like him are in the way of your relationship

C: I am not jealous! Yes of course Monty pissed me off but in the end, I was right to feel like that about him! And the cat king is just super annoying!

🔮: And Edwin had something else in his mind than you also, nah? *glances at him* It's ok you wanna be the only one by Edwin's side, I understand but you know that someday since you rejected him he is gonna love someone else and maybe take his distance a little, right?

C: What annoyed me was that he was distracted, nothing else! And... *thinks of Edwin loving someone else and feels as if someone just twisted brutally his guts* h-he would never leave me, it's him and I until the end.

🔮: Yeah but before the moment you are with me were in the past moment you would have passed with him, don't you think?

C: Yes but still he wouldn't be like that...

🔮: Why would he, not Charles, if he is in love you have to be supportive and let him have space like he does with you

C: It's just not the same

🔮: And why is that?

C: It's just- when he confessed it didn't seem like that.

🔮: Like what, like he would go? You rejected him and his feelings remember?

C: Yeah but it's because he is my buddie I just don't love him this way!

🔮: If you are so sure then why are you jealous and why won't you accept that he might like someone else?

C: *snaps* BECAUSE HE IS MINE *regrets instantly and avoids her gaze*

🔮: He is yours but you don't like him, uh? Charles listen, we already discussed the fact that we were just both alone and sad and we mistook attachment and friendship for something else. But him, Charles you went to hell for the guy, you would die again and again if that could save his ass, you don't want anyone but you by his side. Also, you are just so different when you are with him, you are natural. If it's keep being his buddy that scares you just know that you already act like an old married couple, so nothing will really change. *puts her hand on his shoulder* I don't say I know everything Charles, just think about it, if there were no consequences what would you do or who would you be for him?

C: *looks at her, clearly lost* I don't know Crys...

🔮: It's ok you don't have to have all the answers now, you don't have to ever have all the answers, just think about it 'k? I'm going to sleep. *waves him and goes back to her room*

C: *sits on the sofa, Edwin was out with Yuki tonight, so he was now alone, and more lost than he ever imagined he could be*

And sorry I don't have any beta readers on this so it's really not perfect, do you want me to continue this?

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I have a question. In one of my projects, set in a vaguely 1600s fantasy pirate setting, one of my characters starts out as a burn survivor, with a large burn on her cheek.

She wears a scarf initially to protect the burn from the salt air as well as some self esteem issues, however I don’t want to fall into the masked burn survivor trope, or have a self-hating disabled character.

If it helps, over the course of the story she gets access to hydrating salves and stops needing the scarf as she grows to accept her facial difference.

Thank you for your time, and for all the help you give to us!

Hi!

I think protecting a burn scar from salt is smart. It also could help with the sun-related issues. However, the scarf should be of an appropriate material - a rough texture would only irritate and scratch it, which causes even more problems. If you mention that, or show the process of her choosing something that works for her from that angle, I think it would be much more of a "medical device" and less of a "hiding disability".

It's important to discuss why she has the self-esteem issues. Don't make it into a "Duh, obviously someone with a facial difference would have low self-esteem, just look at them!" which I constantly see.

Was she bullied or harassed over being disabled?

Is she traumatized from experiencing abuse or aggression? Does she fear that being visibly disabled will make her a target for violence again?

Was there a particular person who made her feel that way, like a parent or a "friend" that influenced her view of herself?

Was society around her lacking examples of happy burn survivors, so she assumed that she can't be happy either?

Make it clear why she feels that way, and don't make the narrative frame her facial difference as the root problem. The problem should be the thing that caused her to feel insecure. It's the same as the fact that mobility aids aren't a problem, inaccessibility is - at least that's how I look at it as someone who has an FD and uses a mobility aid.

This is by no means disability-specific, but look out for tragedy porn. Even if she has had bad experiences, I guarantee you that she had happy ones as well. In her case, maybe she met the funniest girl ever at the 1600s fantasy pirate burn unit, maybe the doctor who treated her helped her discover a new hobby while she was stuck in bed. Her backstory shouldn't boil down to "happy (abled) life, then the Accident, then horrible (disabled) life". That'd be a very hurtful message to send.

I do appreciate that she gets character development around her facial difference. I will say that this internal change often comes from seeing other disabled people thrive, being proud, shown as beautiful and valuable, etc. Representation is important in stories, even in-universe. This was certainly the case for me, and is the reason why now I'm so loud about including happy and positive people with facial differences everywhere. This stuff doesn't exist in a vacuum, you're affecting how people see themselves. It also leads me to my last, probably comically predictable point, which is...

Add more burn survivors, or at least characters with other facial differences, into the story. Preferably ones that have the low self-esteem either far behind them or haven't struggled with it in general (we exist). They don't have to be major characters but even just mentioned; e.g. your character thinking about other survivors she met in the place that treated her burns, or her seeing people with visible facial differences out and about and it making her think about why she even hides hers, etc. In short - don't make shame seem like the default reaction to having a facial difference, because it isn't.

I hope this helps!

mod Sasza

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptosaurus Rex; cw for toddler stuff, eg 💩 & 🤮]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) 19: weather (20)

'A-ha! We did it!' John says, possibly too chuffed as he holds up a freshly changed and dressed Rosie. 'We--'

She makes a very distinctive face, then grunts. John eyes her. 'Tell me that face doesn't mean what I think it means.'

Then he does the sniff test, and yes. Yes, it does mean that.

He lays her down yet again, fond exasperation tugging at his lips. 'Wee girl, why do you do this to me?' His mum has used the endearment on Harry their whole lives, so it's comfortable on his tongue as he reaches for wipes and a new nappy -- only to discover the stashes depleted. As in… nill.

John rolls several expletives around his teeth. But then Rosie giggle-gurgles up at him, and he swoops in to expel his breath instead on her cheek in the form of a huge raspberry. He almost doesn't hear the knock on the door.

He pauses, but then shrugs and picks her up. 'Sorry, sweetheart. Let's go see who's at the door, yeah?'

She is notably non-nonplussed. 'Livery?'

'Might be,' John replies as he reaches the building door and opens it. 'And it is!' His daughter claps and immediately reaches out for the spotty young man trying to wrestle a rather large box. 'Whoa, there.' John reins her back in; she wants to be friends with everyone, which is both endearing and alarming.

'Do I need to sign?' he says to the carrier, who, now that John's looking, isn't wearing any sort of uniform. He looks like a dishboy haphazardly and temporarily promoted.

'No, sir. I'm to bring it up to the flat.'

A seed of a thought germinates in John's head. 'That was your instruction?'

The lad nods, clearly trying not to show his impatience. John holds back a sigh, and opens the door wider to let him pass. 'By all means.'

And it's as John expected: Wipes, diaper rash cream, and nappies. They're even--though he really shouldn't be surprised--the correct size.

As soon as Rosie's changed (again), he's got his phone out.

'I trust the delivery made it in time?' Mycroft answers.

John spares them both the niceties. 'How?'

'Nothing untoward, I assure you. Sherlock texted me.'

'Right. And where is he?' They may have an… evolving relationship, but Sherlock is still Sherlock, and John can also admit he only vaguely remembers what the detective had said when he'd left earlier in the day.

'I believe the words "spleen" and "unidentified poison" are involved.'

'Excellent. Listen.' He clears his throat. 'I'll pay you back.'

'My mother would call that "vulgar," as you know.'

'And she's a lovely woman, but--'

'Discuss it with Sherlock, please. I've got work and must get back to it.'

He rings off. John stares at his phone.

Death by Holmes. That's it. That will be how his life ends.

---

Rosie has broken the laws of physics and/or cloned herself. She has. She must have done.

That's the only explanation for the sheer reach of mess he finds waiting for him after his clinic hours the next day. 'Bloody hell,' he breathes, standing in the flat's doorway and taking it in.

It's more than the usual whirlwind that happens when Sherlock's between cases and takes Rosie for the day - He claims loftily that he's putting her through intellectual paces, but really he just indulges her every whim, including her lack of enthusiasm for cleaning up. And it's not as if the flat was shining and organised to begin with.

John doesn't even have the bandwidth to log all the bits of chaos surrounding him. For heaven's sake, he hadn't even known they owned bubble solution. But, then again, they don't now, judging by the rather large soapy stain on the rug in front of the window, and the family of tipped-over empty bottles next to it.

'John!' he hears from Sherlock's bedroom. 'Come join us!'

He rolls his eyes, but goes anyway. The noises make it clear as to what they're doing, and John hangs his head before pushing open the door. He'd been hoping to at least have one nice mattress in the flat for a bit longer.

But no, currently Sherlock is holding onto an absolutely delighted toddler while, obviously, jumping up and down on the bed like he's seven. Actually, John fleetingly wonders if Sherlock even got to do such things when he was seven--

'Come on, John!'

--and the unabashed joy in Sherlock's eyes tells him his answer. With that, the resistance whooshes out of him. He toes off his shoes and joins them.

'We're testing the durability,' Sherlock explains, loudly, then swoops Rosie like an aeroplane.

John laughs, huffs of air as he jumps and watches his daughter. She seems to be enjoying herself, except-- 'I think she might--' He stops, reaches out. 'Sherlock, she's going to v--'

With a small noise of surprise, Rosie is, indeed, sick. The remnants of whatever they'd had for tea form a lovely puddle on Sherlock's expensive sheets.

The grown-ups both manage to avoid it, scrambling backwards and into each other, somehow. John, lungs tight, reaches for his daughter, not caring that she's got sick all down her front. 'My girl,' he says, going for soothing, knowing her reaction could go either way. 'Did that surprise you?'

Rosie, wide-eyed, lets out a small hiccough. Then her face crumples, and she starts to sob.

'Oh dear,' Sherlock says faintly.

John, because he's a bastard, feels laughter start to bubble up in his lungs.

Then he hears Sherlock repressing chuckles next to him, and the floodgates are open, them laughing together like errant schoolboys.

'We musn't giggle near an ill child!' Sherlock admonishes, but it works no better than it had the week they met. John bumps Sherlock's shoulder and curls Rosie into his chest, rubbing her back and putting his lips to her forehead in between breaths. She's not feverish, she just likely got swooped about like an aeroplane too soon after tea, so John relaxes and lets himself go, laughing like an idiot in dirty sheets with a dirty baby and a spotless Sherlock (somehow, the bastard).

Then there's a knock at the door. The door of the flat, not the ground floor.

He and Sherlock exchange glances, no longer laughing; even Rosie has geared down from wailing to whimpering. John shrugs.

'Come in,' Sherlock says, loudly, because of course he does; he doesn't give a toss what people think of his cleaning habits. 'We're in the master bedroom.'

A formidable grey-haired woman with a tight chignon and very no-nonsense shoes appears in the bedroom doorway. She takes in the situation, and then she tuts. Actually tuts, in a distinctly Edwardian way that John hasn't heard since his grandmother passed. 'Just as Mr Holmes suspected.'

Sherlock purses his lips. 'Mycroft sent you?'

'He certainly did. Now, out of those clothes and into the bath, please, all three of you.'

Sherlock opens his mouth to protest but the Look she gives him has him shutting it with a snap.

John would laugh if he had the fortitude. 'Beg pardon, ma'am, but he sent you because…?'

'Because you lot are a mess, a fact of which you seem to be unaware.'

John and Sherlock exchange another look. 'Fine,' Sherlock says curtly. 'But could you be so kind as to leave the room while we undress?'

'Certainly.' She gives a short nod, then turns on her heel and exits down the hall.

'Hang on,' John whispers loudly as they start to unbutton and unzip. 'Mycroft sent us a nanny?'

'I'm relatively certain she's his housekeeper, and just on loan for this evening.'

'I guess I should be surprised.'

'No, you shouldn't, as you're not entirely without wits.'

'Such flattery.'

'Dull.'

'It's almost sweet of your brother, really.'

Sherlock points a finger at him. 'Don't you dare.'

John's lips quirk. 'Don't worry, I won't send him a fruit basket or anything. I just-- I appreciate that he indulges a child he hardly knows, that's of no relation to him.'

Sherlock clears his throat. 'Yes, well, be that as it may, I say we take full advantage.' He pulls the now-naked toddler out of John's hands and heads towards the loo.

John watches them go, feeling quite swirled around by the last half an hour's events. But then he shakes his head at himself and his navel-gazing, and follows them.

---

John's phone buzzes while he's at work the next day, and he doesn't pay it much mind until he sees it's the day nursery. After he reads the message and is able to breathe again-- Jesus, being a father is not for the weak, is it-- he thumbs one to Sherlock. 

Did you get the updated pickup address from the minder? Trip to park rained out. 

He doesn't get a reply, not right away or in the next few hours. 

This could, of course, mean a few things. John firmly puts away the worst case scenario, and reckons a case has taken priority, seeing as Sherlock knew John was available for pickup if necessary. 

So, needless to say, he's surprised when he arrives at the given address. One, because Sherlock is there waiting. And two, because it's… 

John stares.

'John,' Sherlock says after a moment. 'I'm afraid my brother has outdone himself.' 

'Yes, well.' He coughs. 'I'm afraid he's turned an indoor football pitch into a Disneyland for toddlers.'

'As I said.'

'Jesus Christ.' He wonders how long Mycroft's been planning this. 'Wait-- Was this just because of the rain today?'

'Knowing Mycroft? Yes. Is that not a proportional response?'

John can hear the amusement in Sherlock's voice. 'Definitely not,' he replies, but his cheeks hurt from repressing a smile. 'Hang on,' he says. 'Why are you here? You didn't return my texts, I figured you were in the middle of a corpse or something.'

'Mycroft told me to stay put.'

John snorts. 'Didn't you think he might be using trick psychology to get you here?'

Sherlock scoffs. 'Soft science, that.'

'Sure.'

'Daddy! Sherlock!' John looks away from Sherlock at that particular mispronunciation of his flatmate's name, and is barreled into by a clumsy sparkly dervish. 

'What--' He automatically reaches down to pick her up, then does a double take at the elaborate butterfly painted onto nearly her whole face. It's basically a work of art, honestly, and he has no idea how someone got her to sit still for that long. 

'They are hired for speed,' Sherlock says to him, and he laughs, still impressed after all these years. 

'Incredible.'

Sherlock glances at him. 'Whether you mean the artwork or my deducing your question about the artist, you are correct.'

John ignores him and listens to his daughter chatter enthusiastically. The words "bouncy castle" and, somehow, "golf" filter out of it, and John chuckles.

Then he hears her say something that makes him double-take. 'Pardon? Say that once more, sweetheart.'

'Uncle Mycroft!' she repeats. Or at least, most of those letters. Enough to confirm.

John's jaw clenches. 'Did he tell you to call him that?'

She nods enthusiastically. 'He's fun!'

This jars John from his confused dismay, and he hears Sherlock snort, too. 'I suppose he can be, in his own way.'

'Don't lie to your daughter, John.'

John tries not to laugh, and nearly succeeds.

You're going to have a hard time topping this for her next birthday, he writes to Mycroft. He doesn't get a reply, but he supposes that's fair.

They get halfway through the relatively short walk home. Halfway. Before the heavens open up, changing from an aggressive mist to actual splotchy rain.

John swallows a curse, ducking under an awning and already anticipating Rosie wailing about prematurely losing her face art, about being cold and wet and out of doors. 

But when he looks at them, at Sherlock swinging his daughter down from where she'd been perched on his shoulders, he sees nothing but joy on her face.

Joy, and wet streaks of glittery violet paint. She's clinging to Sherlock's hands, and Sherlock looks -- Well, he looks really bloody happy, if John had to label it. But he hesitates in doing so, and resigns himself to just enjoying the moment.

'What,' he says once he's recovered his voice, 'Mycroft can't have a drone deliver us an umbrella?'

Sherlock chuckles, then sobers. 'He does adore her, you know.'

John looks at Sherlock, not quite hiding his surprise. 'And you're alright with that? With "Uncle Mycroft"?'

Sherlock's eyes flash with something, but John isn't quick enough to categorise it. 'A child should have a variety of influences in their life.'

'True, but--'

'And an expanded support structure they can rely on. I daresay Mycroft qualifies, don't you?'

John nods shortly, finding himself unable to form useful words.

Luckily, Sherlock does it for him. He sweeps Rosie back up into his arms and boops her nose, which makes John's eyes cross with cognitive dissonance but there it is all the same. 'Shall we continue walking and enjoying the rain?' the detective asks Rosie. 'And then have a nice bath and some tea? I'm sure your father will make up a fire, too.'

John swallows. 'Sure, yeah.'

Heart warm enough to hurt, he follows them out from under the cover and into the storm.

Time's too short, he reckons, to fuss about dreary weather.

[ <3 ]

[inspiration: Richard Shindell's 'The Weather'. Also consulted bubbleinc.co.uk, obviously.]