#The cacophony though

[green5quirrel]

TL;DR: I think Monroe's striking and chiming clocks were underutilized for truly hilarious interruptions when the hour strikes and 5 or so clocks announce it in sync.

I think we've all looked over a very important detail in Nick having stayed over at Monroe's for a time. I feel like I REALLY want someone to explore this in a fanfiction of some sort.

Monroe has several "striking" clocks in his house. A striking clock (or just clock for those who differentiate clocks as striking and timepieces as non-striking) makes sounds every hour, half hour, or can chime every quarter hour depending on the number of mechanisms.

Monroe obviously has a grandfather clock (or grandmother clock as I'm not sure the height of it) thanks to him telling Hap not to touch it. So that is definitely a striking and chime clock. Or has the potential to be as such if it's not silenced. He also has potentially more than one cuckoo clock.

Can you imagine the absolute terror of a person who has never been in a house with more than one striking clock as it hits the hour or half hour for the first time.

Now, ideally Monroe will have silenced most of his clocks. I don't know. I don't have any working clocks. I don't know how most horologists do things at their private homes. If they find the striking nostalgic or welcomed. But let's err on the side that Monroe has been living alone for a long time and actually does find a few chimes and striking nostalgic after growing up with it as his dad seemed to also be into clocks.

Let's layer this with the fact that Nick has very sensitive hearing (though I'm not sure when that happens. I could have my timelines wrong). Despite that, you're just getting to sleep at around 11pm or midnight and for some reason have been oblivious to or accepting of the chimes during the day. Or this is your first night in your friend, Monroe's, house and suddenly the first floor below you erupts in various chimes and tunes.

Can you imagine?!

I'm actually kind of astounded that this was never properly explored in the. In not one scene does any of Monroe's clocks strike despite how long everyone is at his house. I mean, if I had clocks I'd at least appreciate one of them striking.

The point is, I really want to either write or read a fanfiction where either Rosalee or Nick or Hank experiences the sound of an hour in the most unexpected way and grumpily complains to a completely and adorably oblivious Monroe.

(It would also have been a great gag if in the middle of a dramatic conversation it struck the top of the hour and Monroe patiently waits for his clocks to sound off before continuing. And Nick/whoever he's talking to is just like "Seriously dude?" And he's like, "What? ...fine! I'll silence them. Jeez! I didn't ask you to be here anyway, man!")

#Monroe Grimm #Grimm Monroe #NBC Grimm #Grimm NBC #horology #clocks #striking mechanisms #grandfather clock #grandmother clock #chimes #hitting REM to Westminster playing out with 12 fucking chimes after #Nick Burkhardt #Hank Griffon #Rosalee Calvert #The cacophony though #Grimm thoughts

[total-drama-brainrot]

Saw this somewhere and wanted to throw it your way, sorry if you’ve been asked this before but what do you think of the concept of Noah always having been an assistant (even before the first season)/never playing as a contestant would look like?

The thing about Noah as a contestant is that he's, for all intents and purposes, kind of useless. And by that I mean Noah as a character isn't important to the plot at all in the grand scheme of things. He's barely important from an episodic point of view either; Noah does very little throughout Total Drama in terms of story relevance, and just in general. (Lazy king 👑.)

So taking him out of the equation wouldn't really affect too much in the grand scheme of things, save for probably preventing his friendship with Owen and, from a fanon standpoint, the rest of team E-scope. He'd be pretty much the same person, just behind the camera instead of on it.

But that's kind of a boring answer, and not at all what you were looking for, right?

So, let's say that Noah lands himself a job working as the personal assistant for some hot-shot A-list celebrity through one of his many siblings' various contacts; is it nepotism? Probably. But who's Noah to look a gift horse in the mouth? A fairly easy job following some pretentious asshole around all day and grabbing him the occasional coffee sounds like a pretty sweet gig, especially with the salary and various benefits that come with the job description. So Noah takes the job without question.

And that's how he finds himself stuck in the middle of nowhere, Muskoka, on an undisclosed island owned by said A-lister whilst he films the first season of his new Reality TV show, Total Drama Island.

Being Chris' personal assistant was supposed to be an easy pay check. "Supposed to be" being the point of interest there; Noah didn't anticipate Chris being as sadistic or as childishly needy as he was. If he wasn't running around like a headless chicken trying to accommodate for Chris' oftentimes outlandish whims and fancies, he was stuck answering to the producers in the host's stead- and the producers were pissed with Chris more often than not for his frivolous use of the show's budget. Something about having a genius level IQ and enough snark to make grown men cry apparently made him qualified enough to deal with the industry big-wigs. Noah was far too overworked to question it.

So much for an easy pay check.

Noah's not bad at his job by any means. In his professional opinion, the whole show and Chris' career would be in the dumps without his personal input keeping everything afloat. That doesn't mean he doesn't loathe his job with every sleep-deprived inch of his being.

And, inevitably, Noah ends up spending a lot of time around the campers themselves. Mostly as a consequence of always having to remain "on set" so to speak, since Noah's pretty much contractually obligated to linger around Chris' vicinity and wait for his boss to assign him some menial task to do. Most of the campers are just as egocentric and insufferable as he'd first assumed- and honestly, what else would he expect from people who singed up for a Reality TV show?- but a select few turn out to be decent company; namely Owen and Eva (and Izzy, but Noah refuses to admit that the "Psycho Hose Beast" is actually bearable to be around).

He'd even go so far as to claim they were friends good acquaintances.

Of course, his job takes precedent over frivolous things like relationships, platonic or otherwise, so Noah doesn't exactly have the free time to hang out with them. Which is probably for the best considering if he did spend a lot of time around his friends acquaintances, the other contestants would have a solid enough foundation for accusations of foul play in the competition, and that's a headache Noah really doesn't want to deal with.

Consequently, Noah floats through the filming of Island, and later on Action, maintaining cordiality with his little group and cold indifference towards pretty much the rest of the cast. Not that he doesn't keep close tabs on the campers; of course he does, not only is Noah incredibly observant by nature, but he's also the one in charge of accommodating for these weirdos... plus, Chris is oddly invested in his "prize cast of ratings jewels", whatever that means. So Noah knows these people, probably more than some of them know themselves, thanks to a combined sixteen-ish weeks of observation and forced proximity.

In turn, the competitors know of Noah, though for the most part he's regarded as little more than a spectre on set- Chris' elusive personal assistant who the cast will occasionally see the barest glimpse of, usually hidden behind an impassive pair of mirrored sunglasses and, more often than not, rushing off to do whatever it is a PA does. Chris does get a little lazy in Action and on a few occasions does get Noah to make a "guest appearances" on screen- mostly just to deliver him a coffee and a gluten free muffin during the downtime of that day's challenge- but he's still practically non-existent to he majority of the cast.

Which is fine by him.

What isn't fine by him is the surprise addition of two people he knows nothing about, come the third season.

One of those contestants happens to know a lot about the cast, and a concerning amount of information about him. It's uncanny, just how much Sierra seems to know about everyone around her, even more so because of the way she practically worships the ground they walk on. Sure, Noah's encountered the odd super fan here and there- not fans of himself, of course, but in this time as Chris' assistant he's had to chase off more than enough rabid fans from trying to sneak their way onto the set of whatever show Chris was working on (or more accurately sic the on-scene security on them)- but Sierra's brand of crazy takes it to a whole new level. Noah doesn't like her on principle and is both incredibly vindicated and incredibly concerned when her stalkerish behaviour rears its ugly head. Not that he's allowed to do anything about it; the producers are adamant that Sierra's outlandish behaviour is entertaining enough for the audience to ignore the immorality, and given how much Chris has been allowed tog et away with in the past Noah's inclined to begrudgingly agree.

And the other new contestant? The one who qualified for the apparently non-existent Total Drama Dirtbags (and Noah totally isn't salty about that show being an elaborate ruse that he spent countless sleepless nights working on)? Noah's just as concerned about his friends acquaintances ignorance to Alejandro's inherent sliminess as he is about Sierra's blatant disregard for others' privacy, but again it's not like he can do anything about it. He's not even supposed to be on the show, so any sort of interference would be a big no-no.

Oh, what's that? They want him on the show?

Fuck.

Turns out, Noah's brief appearances during Action (characterised by his usual level of sass and snide comments) really resonated with their audience; they like him for some inexplicable reason, and want to see more of "Noah, Chris McLean's mysterious personal assistant".

So he's pretty much forced into acting as a co-host of sorts, much like Chef had done for the first two seasons, all whilst carrying out his usual tasks. Is he happy about this? Not a chance in hell, and he lets the producers know exactly how he feels about the sudden change in his contract. Not that it changes anything.

And the best part? World Tour is a musical themed season. If they expect him to sing, they've got another thing coming.

But, as a small part of him chimes in, spending more time on camera would give Noah plenty of opportunities to spend time with his friends acquaintances. There's a non-zero chance that he could have fun, even if it's at the expense of his valued privacy.

His new status as part of the show does allow Noah some opportunities to skew the competition in the favour of his friends acquaint- no, screw it, his friends. That's one silver lining of the whole situation.

Better yet, he can tilt things out of Alejandro's favour, since the former Dirtbag seems to have a knack for manipulating the competition anyway- Noah might as well make things more challenging for him, as it seems this game is too easy for him thus far.

#that's just my take on it i guess #in short: noah's a tad bit more isolated and a lot more vindictive. mostly against the producers though. #i imagine a noah who didn't sign up for total drama would value his anonymity a lot more. THIS noah isn't looking for fame or notoriety. #he's just looking for Cash Money. #as such being forced into the limelight would make him grumpier than usual. #he spends the majority of world tour trying to get alejandro eliminated because he's the producer's favourite. no other reason. #al the while being as unhelpful and outright antagonistic as possible as a “co-host”. #mostly to make himself as unmarketable and unlikable as possible so the audience don't want him to stay around. #ironically this only makes him more popular. noah hates it. #he also spends the majority of world tour trying to prevent sierra from leaking people's private information to varied results. #noah's a voice of reason in a cacophony of screaming. no matter how loud he shouts he'll never be heard. #can't decide whether i want him and blaineley to team up post-merge or for them to be enemies on sight. #total drama #td noah #assistant noah au #others' ideas #silly ideas #ophe's ranting in the tags again #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

[viric-dreams]

And with that I've officially hit my "make weirder art in 2024" goal out of the park. Snockham snorgy below the cut.

#my art #ockham #technically nudity though there's not much to see #a lot of snake happening #snakes have no meaning to me anymore #my brain cannot even process their weird tube bodies anymore #scales are dead to me for the foreseeable future #which is a shame because i do have a fun piece in my drafts #that brings the Cacophony back #but in a very different context to this one #very very different context #i don't know how this possessed me but here we are #possibly the 4am of it all #anyway this is my cue to go to bed

[bumblingbabooshka]

A Duet of Brief Alignments

#Tuvok/Neelix #guys who create a cacophony...except for when they don't #guys who are constantly tripping over each other's feet only to waltz perfectly for a few minutes in the middle of the song #guys who learn the same lessons about each other each week but for whom it never quite sticks #but even though the noise is just that - they keep on playing together whenever they're able - eventually stumbling across the song #and what a beautiful few minutes that is #web weaving #star trek web weaving #also you MUST open image in new tab idk WHY I keep making these so damn small SORRY

[the-busy-ghost]

Petty rant this morning- I can understand that somtimes even the nicest noises can be a nuisance, even painful, and believe me I have become cranky about all sorts of innocuous noises at the wrong time.

That being said, I have heard a surprising number of people complain about bellringers practising, when they moved into a house next to a mediaeval English church

#Oh I'm sorry we'll just move this twelfth-century bell tower somewhere that doesn't irritate you #Can it sometimes be a rather awful cacophony? Yes but they only get better if they practise #And even the worst noise of bells (from the distance of neighbouring houses not the tower) is better than car engines and drunk arguments #And bellringing is such a magnificent piece of craft and tradition; it's worth preserving even above and beyond any religious role #Though to be fair all the bellringers I've met seem to hold bellringing as their chief religion and are indifferent at best to the church #So it's not even that much of a reminder of Christianity imo #Thouhg I suppose people could disagree #Anyway church bells were one of the best things about living in the south of England #Even when they were rattling away very untidily #I miss them so much being back in Scotland where we only have a handful of towers at best #and certainly don't have the longstanding tradition of ringing in small churches #I have to get my kicks from the Tolbooth clock and let me tell you it just isn't the same as hearing an English bell tower ringing up #Let alone actually ringing the changes #It's one of the few genuinely wholesome English traditions and you want to whine about the sound of BELLS #Not because it's a sensory issue or anything just because you don't like your lie-in being interrupted #But you'd expect your neighbours to put up with your noisy barbecues #Actually never even mind disruptive events like that- in my opinion the noise of your silly car idling in the driveway is worse than bells #You trying to fit your massive SUV down the tiny streets of a small English village #Is always worse than plain hunt

[dandyshucks]

life tip: do NOT listen to experimental music you haven't listened to before when you are anxious and on edge 🧍

#i put on music and there was a sudden clattering of screeching instruments and i jumped so hard my sketchbook fell onto the floor 😭😭😭 #im laughing a little though dw that was very cartoonish DHFJDKL #if ur curious.... the song is His Mister's Pet Whistles by Major Organ and The Adding Machine #my god thats such a cacophony to start with though DBFHDJSKL #i havent listened past the first ten seconds so pls dont consider this a recommendation LMAO #I'll listen to it fully tomorrow maybe... I'm too afraid now LOL #dandy.cmd

[unproduciblesmackdown]

snapshots collage style 📷 w/the initial framework being [a lens of “what if someone Liked him”] lol crushing on winnie ✨

#been a minute since an orange & purple palette...was going for Warmth again & it's not not. but v sunsetty lol #so like it's not outright winstuk but of course i was remembering my own post like ''what if winston was the Crushed On party for once'' def #so true op....absolutely never gonna happen in canon but canon is [9900 decibel cacophony] [that's what canon is; not a truck going by joke] #winston billions #corned beef #anyways difficult to follow up any drawing so spontaneously capturing the charming je ne sais quoi of [last winston drawing] lol but that is #simply inevitable when those wins are scattered in there. still having fun & being ourselves #another link in back to back [winston w/his arms overhead]....this time not based on one blurry bg glimpsed pose or anything lol #more like: quant stretching offers coworkers tantalizing glimpse of bare midriff #winston wears one [just a tee] in one scene in the tmc niche & now you can't tell me anything...don't think he's yet worn a V neck though... #he also hasn't been seen taking off his glasses or stretching or laughing with too much joie de vivre or being crushed on #as always: it's about having fun & being ourselves. for me atm that means somersaulting into bed at half past 8. oof quarter to 9

[thisismyanimus]

it seemed that searching three words allows you to find all posts containing those three words

with two words, it seemed that both words have to be in tags, or else it doesn't work. maybe unless the post is popular

but what if i write a really long tag? the maximum limit is 139 characters per tag

i did this experiment in this post

i concluded that if your search contains common words, for example "what write really", it only retrieves certain posts where those words are in the text

for uncommon/nonexisting words in the text of your post such as "brasput yabet mituarb", you can find your post by searching just 1 word

for two words in any of the tags, it retrieves the post, even if the words are common. for example "eat above"

#Sesquipedalian floccinaucinihilipilification antidisestablishmentarianism circumlocution prevarication obsequious perspicacious fastidious #aberration aberrant abscond accoutrements adumbrate affectation agglutination alacrity alluvion amelioration amorphous antediluvian #antepenultimate apotheosis apposite approbation apropos arrant assiduous augury auriferous auspicious baleful bellicose beleaguer bellicosi #bilious benighted bevy bipolar bivouac boisterous bombastic braggadocio cacophony calligraphy capricious carafe cataclysm caustic chicanery #churlish circumlocution colloquy commensurate complaisant concomitant concupiscence confabulation connivance contumacious convivial copious #coterie craven cull decorous demagogue demarcation denouement depravity desuetude diaphanous diffident dirge discomfit discomposure #disconcert disingenuous disinter disinclination dissemble dissimulation dissonance dithering dolorous dross ebullience effrontery emollient #empyrean enervate enfranchisement engender ennui ensconce entrench equanimity equivocate erudite ethereal evanescent execrate exigent #exiguous exoneration expatiate expurgate extemporaneous extirpate fatuous feckless fecund felicitous fester filigree florid flout foible #forbearance forswear fount frippery fulminate garrulous germane glabrous glib glower gnarled gossamer grandiloquent gratuitous gregarious #guile gumption gush halcyon harangue harried hedonist hegemony heresay heterodox histrionic hoary homily hubris hyperbolic hypocrisy #incipient inculcate indigent ineffable ingrate ingratiate inimical inimitable invective inveterate inveteracy irascible irresolute jejune #jettison jocund jubilant judicious ken knell labyrinthine lachrymose laggard lamentation largess levity libation lissome lithe loathe #lugubrious macabre maladroit malcontent malediction malfeasance malleable mawkish meander mendacity métier milieu minatory mire misanthrope #mitigate mnemonic modicum mollify morass mote mundane myopia nadir nascent neologism neophyte nexus #story saw far sea draw left late run don't while press close night real life few north open seem together next white children begin got #walk example ease paper group always music those both mark often letter until mile river car feet care second book carry took science #eat room friend began idea fish mountain stop once base hear horse cut sure watch color face wood main enough plain girl usual young #ready above ever red list though feel talk bird soon body dog family direct pose leave song measure door product black short numeral #class wind question happen complete ship area half rock order fire south problem piece told knew pass since top whole king space heard #best hour better true during hundred five remember step early hold west ground interest reach fast verb sing listen six table travel

[saltedsolenoid]

OH GOD I HAVE A WEEK LEFT TO MEMORIZE MY LINES

AAAAAGHHHHHH

#to everyone saying i should have been more prepared (even though that's mostly the cacophony of very mean people in my head): #i have MEMORY ISSUES #and also i'm too busy being in EXCRUCIATING CHRONIC PAIN to MEMORIZE THINGS #...okay yeah maybe i should have been more prepared but. AGH #(i don't even have that many lines...)

[winterswrandomness]

cuties (<- me) want to draw but headache says no :c

#roroschattertag #I'm tryna do stuff but today went downhill into a cacophony of OW OW OW y'know? #I'll be okay though #or not considering I spelt though as tough-

[himejoshikaeya]

new blog theme what do we think :•3

#cacophony of kaliya #my friend drew angel kaeya for me #and i just couldnt resist lol #rip to cocaine bear though

[yueebby]

how i met your mother  — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it

notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!

“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!” 

just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips.  “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.

this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.

“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.

the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.

“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests. 

nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.

you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection. 

“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it. 

“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.” 

2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech

meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo

that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed. 

the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.

a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.

“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.

“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.

another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think. 

“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.

a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.

a low whistle comes out of his mouth. 

 “oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.”  you want to laugh.

out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”

thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.

soon after her arrival, yaga comes.

“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.

“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face. 

you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?” 

there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.

“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–” 

there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.” 

he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it. 

a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”

“that’s not really the case.”

“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.

you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.

“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.

gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto. 

unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”

from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?” 

you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.

“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly. 

what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.

2018 — present day

your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story. 

“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.

“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.

there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”

you smack his shoulder.

“be serious!”

he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!” 

you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.

“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.

“let me finish!”

you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”

there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”

“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.

“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!” 

“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously. 

the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.

extra notes- 

yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.

there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).

gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.

this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #remember spring days!au

[thatthingsittinginthecorner]

Look, not to be rude to the "I love being autistic!" gang, this is my own personal opinion but I would PAY MONEY to be neurotypical.

#Can you imagine? #I could go to concerts and talk to people and watch normal youtube videos #without having to worry about the horrifying cacophony that is the human voice #Not to be mean to anyone but for sensory issues I hate the human voice. #It's scratchy and changes pitch too quickly for me to keep up. #that's part of why I got into vocaloid #This is just me though #I'm sure there are so many people that find the human voice beautiful #and good for them! Honestly! #I wish I could find it as pretty as most of you do #and I hope one day I can. #does this count as a vent post-

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

could you do finnick odair giving you head? i loved your last fanfic!

of course! thank you so much <3

forbidden fruit | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick was your mentor; intimacy was strictly prohibited. but he just couldn’t help but succumb to your sweet taste. in the training centre, no less.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm, finnick is a swallower!!!, swearing, kinda exhibitionism

notes: i just know finnick would be like a god at giving head. sorry it was a bit short; i had another wip going on as well. definitely enjoyed writing this though ;)

word count: 1.3k

This was wrong. So very wrong. Finnick was supposed to be your mentor. You were supposed to be doing one-on-one training. But, God, if you said having his tongue lapping between your thighs felt anything but perfection, you would be lying to yourself.

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Fuck, Finnick.”

His muscular arm had swung your leg over his shoulder, allowing him even deeper access to devour you against the wall of the empty Training Centre gymnasium. The lower half of your body had been stripped bare; your clothes discarded to the floor by the man kneeling beneath you.

He traced tight circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue, only stopping to suction his mouth around it and suck. A cacophony of shocked cries and desperate moans left your mouth. You should have known he would be able to make you feel this good. He had a wicked smile and a wicked mouth that could do filthy things.

Teeth nipped gently at your clit, causing your hips to jerk forward with a startled gasp. “Oh my God.”

Finnick removed his head from between your thighs, peering up at your expression with sinful sea-green eyes. Your mouth was slightly agape, brows were drawn together, and cheeks were flushed with a warm pink. His chin and lips were drenched with your juices. He really was devouring you whole.

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh. “I know it feels good but…” His lips trailed up your thigh, getting closer to the place you needed him most. “…we wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would we?”

Oh, you knew what would happen if they did. However dangerous the consequences might have been, the idea of someone walking in on Finnick with his face buried in your pussy was exhilarating. Downright arousing.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up in this situation. One minute, you two were practicing hand-to-hand combat and the next, his tongue was exploring your body as you cried out his name in pleasure.

“I’ll be quiet. I—” Suddenly, his tongue was dragging from your soaking hole to the peak of your clit. “Promise.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, dampening the pleasured noises that threatened to escape. Another hand dropped into his hair, fingers interweaving with the messy bronze strands as you tugged him closer. He groaned into your pussy, sending a wave of euphoric vibrations through your body, stimulating the muscles in your stomach that pleaded for a release.

“Sweet girl. Taste so good,” his voice muffled into your skin.

Your heart fluttered at his praise.

And then, before you could even think, Finnick had pulled your other leg over his shoulder, holding you against the wall with pure muscle. He immediately continued his movements, leaving you only seconds to be baffled by his strength.

He flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit, his tongue rough in pressure and wild with speed. Tears were forming in your eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you. Your stomach was tensing and caving uncontrollably; chest rising and falling with fast, uneven breaths.

Even Finnick seemed to be gaining gratification from getting you to your high, obvious in the frenzied enthusiasm and moans that vibrated against you.

Somehow, he had managed to shift your weight onto one shoulder and dropped a hand to your core. His finger teased at your entrance as he continued working your swollen sensitivity with his tongue. He sunk his long finger into your pussy, instantly curling upwards into that deep, heavenly spot that had you biting your palm and your eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck!” you cried into your hand.

Multitasking wasn’t a problem for him. He sucked, lapped, and tongued, all while curling and pumping his finger in and out of your hole, knuckles probing at your inner walls as he did. Then he added another finger, and you could feel its effects deep within your stomach.

Clit being assaulted and dripping-wet hole stuffed, your orgasm came creeping into the light. It was building slowly. First to be affected was your mind—your thoughts were utterly immoral. You were light-headed and blood buzzed in your ears.

Next was your lower half. Your thighs clenched around Finnick’s head, hips grinding against his tongue which only encouraged him further on. Then your breaths became shallow, a whine or whimper occasionally escaping with each exhale.

His mouth left your heat, fingers still pumping. “Are you close, sweetheart?” he asked in that carefully crafted seductive voice of his. You nodded frantically, pushing his dishevelled hair from his forehead as he gazed up at you. “Let me hear.”

Your hand fell from your lips. “But you said—”

“Forget what I said.” He leaned into your heat, his words fanning warmth against your pussy. “I want to hear my name coming from that pretty mouth of yours as you come.” An unhindered broken moan echoed around the room as he forcefully plunged his fingers into that spot deep inside you. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

The sound of your pleasure filled the gymnasium. You couldn’t even think about the possibility of someone walking in. Not when a white-hot heat was consuming your entire being.

He returned to your throbbing clit, hungrily sucking it in his mouth as if he were tasting a foreign delicacy. The pressure of his suctioned mouth had the heat feverishly spreading around your body, filling you up before it had the chance to explode. And with another pump of his fingers, a blaze erupted in your stomach.

“Finnick!”

Your moans rose an octave, head falling back against the wall as you repeated his name and strings of curses over and over. Sparks trickled down your legs and to your toes. Immense pleasure crested over every inch of your pulsing body, rendering you immobile in Finnick’s arms. Still, he didn’t stop.

Unbeknownst to you, just the sound of you reaching your climax had him coming undone as well, groaning into your gushing slick as his cock twitched and spurted white ropes in his pants.

He licked a long stripe up your slit, collecting your juices with his tongue. Fuck, he had never tasted anything sweeter. Anything more delicious.

As the wave of bliss began to pass, your tensed body began to relax. Finnick noticed, slipping his fingers from your hole and removing his mouth from your overstimulated clit. He watched as your fatigued body started to crumple in on itself, thankfully having the right idea to help you off his shoulders.

He settled you onto his kneeling lap, creating a wet patch on his pants. Not that he cared—it kind of turned him on again.

You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. How were you supposed to face him after… that? Much to your discomfort, Finnick turned your head to face his with a finger. The dry one, of course. His eyes searched yours with a look you couldn’t quite describe. Worry? Anxiety?

“You regret it?” he asked.

It took you a moment to decide; ultimately, you shook your head. That was the most exhilarating thing you had ever experienced in your life. Saying anything else would be a lie.

He smiled.

“But we shouldn’t do it again,” you said softly.

“No…” he sighed, the smile dropping from his face. “But we will.”

And there it was again—that devilish smirk. You couldn’t resist returning it with a sheepish smile because you knew he was right. You would do it again.

#wife of all dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick x oc #thg finnick #finnick imagine #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

[candont]

#i suppose my annoyance with bikekill is they always seem so serious and overly impressed with themselves #a little cooler than though #i mean where's the juvenile joy in just doing something wonderfully stupid #it's the sort of aspect of cacophony that chuck palahniuk uses in fight club #myself i'm more inclined to the sense of wonder and openness of you may already be a member #or maybe i'm just bitter because i have shitty balance and would fuck myself up falling off the bikes #old man yells at cloud #too much in the tags #stuck with hackett #hope he got health insurance

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part two

"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"

"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.

"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."

"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."

"I, ah, don't?"

"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"

"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."

"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."

"That sounds really really great-"

"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"

The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."

Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.

"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"

Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"

"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"

Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"

"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"

Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"

"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"

"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"

"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."

"Yeah? You mean it?"

"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."

"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."

Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.

"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."

"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.

"I ah, music?"

"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.

"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."

All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.

"Oh right, and what's the band called?"

"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."

After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.

#eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #baking #baker steve Harrington #rock star eddie munson