#i beg of you please look at this on desktop it’s so much better there

[andromeddog]

going my way?

my secret santa gift for @nothin-2c-here !! happy holidays and a very merry merry :)

#my art #band of brothers #hbo war #hbowarsanta23 #lewis nixon #richard winters #dick winters #winnix #i formatted this thing all wrong so i apologize if the quality suffers #i beg of you please look at this on desktop it’s so much better there #i cannot format for this app to save my life #in ur browser of choice also works #happy holidays everyone i will see u in the new year!!!!

[enbyfrogwrites]

you're so needy, baby pt. 2

so! y'all voted for the content of pt 2. I hope y'all enjoy, again mdni and everything is under the cut <3.

tags: dead dove do not eat, mommy kink, sub!choso, smut, begging, afab reader but reader is nb coded, reader is mix coded but there's nothing pertaining to race outwardly, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl, needy!choso, dom!gn!reader, reader is FAT not chubby or curvy, squirting, 18+; i don't go into details of what reader has, but reader is afab!coded but no outward description of their bottom half. Additionally, no use of y/n, unprotected sex

i'm trying my best, my physical and mental health went down the drain so i'm sorry that it took literal months to even begin this. there's going to be spelling and grammar errors cuz i'm just one person and that's just how it goes. please send me asks of yummy content. i think im gonna make this sub characters blog lmao

thanks for reading <3

word count: ~1.8k

You look back at Choso, his face wet as he pathetically whimpers a combination of pleas and 'Mommy'. You've been playing your game for a while. You haven't checked the time yet, but you figured it was close to an hour since you actually started playing.

"M-Mommy-" Choso huffed hotly into the nape of your neck. "Has it been an hour yet?" His voice was so whiney, the tail end of his question ended in a higher pitch. You chuckle as you felt your boyfriend nuzzled his tear-stained face in between your neck and the soft meat of your shoulder. The sensation caused you to shiver slightly, in turn making Choso groan loudly as you felt his still hard cock twitch inside of you.

"I don't know, baby. I have to check." You answered truthfully, your hand reaching up and ruffled your boyfriend's fine hair. Choso leans into the touch, letting out a small noise. You paused your game and grabbed your phone which sat next to your desktop. You swiftly tap your screen as you bring the device to your face. As you looked at the time, you felt your cute boyfriend grab at your apron belly, squeezing tightly in need, but not enough to physically hurt you.

You notice you have ten more minutes left before it would be a full hour...but you were in between quests in your game. Not only that...but your boyfriend was being such a good boy too...ah, fuck it.

"Yeah, baby." You coo as you take your headphones off and set them in front of you. "Are you ready for Mommy's reward?"

"Please, please!" Choso cried softly into your plump shoulder, his hands skirting up your stomach so he can wrap his arms around your waist. "Mommy, it hurts. Have I been a good boy?"

Your boyfriend squeezes you tightly, whining and sniffling pathetically. You again reach over your shoulder to pat his head lovingly before placing both of your hands on your desk for better leverage. You propel the desk chair backwards, pushing off your desk just enough for you and Choso to get up, not to fling yourself across the room.

"C'mon, Pookie;" You turn your head to look at Choso's beautiful dark violet eyes. "Let's take this to the bed, Okay? Mommy wants you to lay on the bed for them." You slowly pull yourself off his length, making your boyfriend gasp as your wet hole left his aching cock. His cock was slick and shiny from your hole, glistening in the natural lighting in your bedroom. Gods, his cock was beautiful, the head leaked profusely and was a glorious shade between dusty pink and scarlet red. Choso's cock twitched temptingly from the sudden temperature difference. The shaft was just so thick and veiny, and absolutely delectable to look at.

You look up and noticed how wrecked Choso truly was. The shorter front pieces his hair was plastered to this forehead. Your boyfriend's cheeks were so flushed that it somehow made the mark on his nose stand out even more. When you make eye contact with the poor half-curse, his dark circles were more pronounced from how much he was crying and begging. The blush from his cheeks traveled all the way down his neck to just a bit under collar bone that peaked from his V-neck.

You gestured to the bed next to your desk with your hand before gently leaning down to lick your way into Choso's mouth. The mewl that left his mouth as you caressed his tongue lovingly with your own was delicious. You pull away and made the short distance to the bed. You plop down on the edge of it and stared at your boyfriend expectantly as you patted your shared bed.

Choso scrambled off your desk chair, his feet shuffling swiftly and softly across the hardwood floor. He climbed dutifully on the bed and went to the center of the mattress where you patted.

"Scoot up for, Mommy please. Mommy wants their good boy's back on the headboard, can you do that?"

Choso nodded eagerly, his hands pushing the majority of his body weight so he can maneuver to how you wanted him positioned. You move up with him and made sure to tuck a couple of pillows behind him in preparation for his...reward. In addition, you slide your chubby fingers under his V-neck and pulled the fabric off his chiseled abdomen and carefully made sure that it didn't snag on any of his piercings on the way up.

"Mommy, please." Choso choked out, his right hand sneaking past your heated core to grip his cock. Really it's been only a few minutes, but the tone of his voice and desperation in your boyfriend's eyes made it seem it's been like a million years. You giggled as you gently pried his hand off his leaking cock, giving a small peck on his cheek in compensation.

"Relax for me, baby."

You palm your boyfriend's cock with one hand, starting from the base and leave fleeting touches across his tip with your fingertips. You repeat this motion a couple times, making Choso squirm and gasp loudly at the sensation. On the downwards stoke, you continue further down and cupped Choso's balls and gently massaged them. You pull a few more moans and whimpers from him before letting go completely.

You turn yourself around and backed your ass up enough, so your boyfriend's cock lined perfectly with your sopping hole. You hold your breath as you grip his cock and began to sink down on to it. Gods, he was just in you, and he still felt so damned big. You wait a moment after Choso bottoms out to catch your breath before to turning partially around to face the half-curse.

"Let Mommy do all the work, okay? You can cum in Mommy's hole whenever. You were such a good boy today, Cho!"

Choso's only response was a meek 'please, Mommy' followed by a shuttered breath. His pupils were blown wide, his beautiful violet irises almost swallowed whole as he made eye contact with you. You gave him a lopsided smile before facing forward so you can grab at the bed between Choso's thighs.

"My thighs, Mommy!" A pause as you whip your head back towards the half-curse. "I want to feel you grip my thighs as you fuck yourself on my cock, Mommy."

You face heated up immediately. You felt yourself get even more wet on his cock before hurriedly turning back around in slight embarrassment. You go to do what your boyfriend requested of you, but you felt him yank on your t-shirt.

"I love seeing all of you, baby. It's not fair if I'm the only one naked." Choso's tone was between husky and needy.

A twinge of self-consciousness peaked in your head at the thought of riding you boyfriend with all of you exposed. You apron belly, your back rolls, and your stretch marks would be on complete display. But just as those thoughts came into your head, they vanished when you felt Choso sit up more just to grab at your fat stomach.

"Please, baby? I love you. All of you."

You felt your body relax- you didn't even know it tensed up in the first place quite frankly. Warmth blossomed throughout your chest as the love and comfort radiated from Choso. You nodded your head and swiftly pulled off your shirt. You didn't wear a binder or a bra today, so you felt your nipples pebble immediately in the open air.

Fuck, you loved Choso so damned much.

"I love you, too. Lean back so Mommy can take care of you." You twist your head enough so you can watch him obey you before you faced forward again.

You gripped Choso's thighs as you lifted your hips up and slammed them down again. Choso made a choked sound behind you, making you smile at the noise before repeating the motion again. You began to rock your hips at the end, making your boyfriend hit deep inside you. Helpless, you yelp in pleasure as you do it again. Small 'ah ah ah's kept being punched from Choso's lips as you sit fully on him again.

"Fuck, baby, meet me halfway?" You groan the question out as you grind your core on the half-curse's pelvis.

"Yeah, Mama," Choso didn't even hesitate before grabbing your plump hips as leverage to thrust up into you.

You both moan when you meet perfectly in the middle. The skin-on-skin slapping echoed loudly throughout the room, which surprisingly wasn't half as loud as Choso's cries of 'mommy' and his high-pitched keens.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy-" the noise Choso let out following the last plea was between a choked sob and a frustrated whine. "I'm gonna cum! Please! Puh-lease." You twist your head to look behind you and noticed your boyfriend was only using one hand on your hips as he gripped on to his hair with his other hand...in desperation.

You were close too- fuck. Your legs were getting tired, but you weren't going to stop now especially if your boyfriend looked like that. Gripping his thighs even tighter- he's definitely going to have bruises tomorrow- you push yourself even further. Your hips came down harshly and unrelenting. You purposely kept grinding your core on every down stroke to bring yourself closer to orgasming.

"Cumming, Mommy!" Choso keened, he learned forward and grabbed your fat stomach, as he held your hips still to pump his hot seed into your sloppy hole. You felt his cock twitch inside your gummy walls, and you quickly reached between your legs to rub yourself furiously.

It didn't take much, a couple of swipes of your chubby fingers on your nub and the dam broke. A small cry left your lips as you felt a small distant feeling of being...more wet than usual when cumming this time around.

You rested on your haunches as you tried to catch your breath. Unconsciously you rubbed at the now red fingerprints blossoming on Choso's thighs. Speaking of him you felt the half-curse lovingly rub your stomach as he nuzzled his face into the plush middle of your back.

You then felt Choso began to shake uncontrollably, and you began to worry. Just as you tried to turn around, you felt Choso smile into your back, and you noticed that he was fucking...laughing?

"Look down, baby." Choso giggled.

You do as you were requested and look down. To your horror your sheets were soaked.

"Holy fuck! Did I really squirt?" You also noticed that your boyfriend's cock and balls were sopping.

"And here you were trying to play your game, but you wouldn't have done this if you did, Mommy."

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso smut #choso x reader smut #jjk choso #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #nonbinary reader #sub choso #sub!choso #dom reader #sub jjk #afab reader

[paperw0rmz]

Complete guide to Flickr and why you should use it

bc I got some things wrong but it’s still a very good website that we should all use instead of Instagram

1: Flickr isn’t tied to Meta or any of that Facebook bullshit, from my knowledge it doesn’t share your contacts so no one will get a notification that you joined, it’s safer that way and more private than Instagram.

2: It’s built for photos. Instagram kills quality of photos, if you’re an artist, especially a digital one, uploading to Flickr would be way better for people to actually see detail and the color.

Going on with this because it’s built for photos, while it can host video, it doesn’t have TikTok/Reels and lives which is soooo nice. Like I don’t hate that stuff, but I like that Flickr isn’t trying to catch on the latest trends.

3: There isn’t likes. Flickr is mainly for sharing and LOOKING at photos. The most interaction you can get one on one is commenting, following, and favoriting. Favoriting is basically the public saves, no one really faves things on there unless it’s a recipe or for a reference or something.

4: Groups. Flickr does have an option for communities to make groups in where you can share similar interests MOST OF THESE ARE DEAD BUT WE CAN BRING THEM BACK!!! (IM BEGGING)

5: The bios are unlimited ( I think ), I copy and pasted the entire Bee Movie script three times along with my own bio that was already in there. I’m always pissed when I have to trim my bio, so bitches who like to put everything in their bio this website is for YOU

6: It’s in chronological order. Everything. You can even look up when certain posts where made by year, month, even fucking day. The archives of Flickr are so fucking fun.

7: Its not a contest. The main reason as to why I fucking hate Instagram (other than they took away chronological order and being able to see the recents under a tag) is that it focuses too much on “#aesthetic” even on the casual Instagram side people are still posing and trying to make an aesthetic of it. Flickr is just for photos you like, which yes can be aesthetic, but it’s mainly for daily life. You will see older people just posting what they are working on, maybe a cat they saw at the store, nothing planned. Just a quick unprompted click.

8: Organization, Flickr let’s you have Albums which is where you can organize all your photos in much like Pinterest. Most do it by year but others do it by topic too.

9: You can upload photos in bulk. You don’t have to upload them one by one, or at a limit of ten, you can upload a FUCK ton of photos at once.

10: if you don’t like ads and want more storage space, the pro version is extremely cheap compared to Netflix. Netflix without ads is fucking $15.49 and Flickr is $8.25 a month. There are also two other payment plans if that’s still too much for you.

11: It allowed adult content. In like. Every form. Enough said

CONS

1: You can’t DM (this is not a con to me and I hate when people complain about this just fucking use a email it is so fun to email people please for the love of god)

2: You can only upload 1,000 images before you run out of space. (You can always delete images later, I personally like to delete images at new years for a fresh start and archive them somewhere else)

3: it’s dead. No one really uses it.

4: to upload your bio you have to use a desktop version of the app.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE SWITCH TO FLICKR AND SHARE THIS SO WE CAN START TO REVIVE OLD PLATFORMS TO SAVE THEM TO REBEL AGAINST META AND THIS NEW AGE OF CREATING SOCIAL MEDIA APPS AND SHIT

#Flickr #instagram #YouTube #tiktok #threads #social media #early web #early Web 2.0 #nostalgia

[janfraiser]

I was bored in the car today and @lesbiansayaishii was nice to me in the tags of my pinned moodboard, so elle, this is for you ❤️ this also marks the first thing I've properly written for the Ivy AU, and it's intentionally not the start of the story but more in the middle, because I wanted to make my brain think about other parts of the story. Thank you elle for giving me an excuse to flex my muse 🖤💞💗

Background/Context, Connor went to Mayo after s3, and Ava didn't ask him to stay, nor did she tell him when she realized she was pregnant from their one night stand. He comes back as head of the emergency department around four years later, and... you can probably fill in the blankssss

Connor is reviewing patient charts in his mercifully private office when the phone on his desk starts ringing. He eyes it for a moment, pretty sure it’s no one he wants to talk to. But he doesn’t get to foist it off now, now that he’s the one in charge, so he picks up the phone with a groan.

“Rhodes.”

“Dr. Rhodes, it’s Beth in the OR with Dr. Bekker,” says the surgery tech. “You’re on speaker.”

Not the most headache-inducing call he could’ve gotten, then. “Thanks, Beth. Ava?” It’s been a rocky few weeks since he’d suddenly learned that she had a daughter— that he had a daughter— but getting closer again, even just by arguing and pestering each other with every spare minute of their shifts, means he’s falling back into the familiar patterns from before his years at the Mayo Clinic, including using her first name.

“Connor, what’s the weather doing right now?”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“I know we’re supposed to be getting a winter storm,” she continues, “but last I heard it wasn’t getting bad until tonight. Only, now Ivy’s daycare is saying they’re closing early because the roads might be dangerous as early as this afternoon.”

Connor scrubs a hand over his face. “Oh, shit, the ER’s probably gonna get flooded.”

“Connor,” Ava says, exasperation audible even over the phone, “I’m currently elbow-deep in the chest cavity of a man in late-stage heart failure. I cannot leave this patient on the table for the half-hour minimum it would take for me to drive out to the daycare and check Ivy out. She can play quietly in the doctor’s lounge up here, she knows how to do that, but I need you to go pick her up.”

“Uh.” He pauses for a moment as his brain tries to catch up. “What?”

“I know you’re working too, but you’ve got a little more flexibility than I do at the moment,” Ava continues. “I’ll call ahead and tell them you’re cleared to sign her out, can you come get my car keys so you’ll have her car seat with you?”

“Hang on.” Connor’s hand flexes on the arm of his office chair. “A week ago you were saying you weren’t even ready for me to meet her yet, and now you want me to go pick her up from school? The hell do I know about entertaining children?”

“You don’t have to entertain anyone,” Ava huffs, “as long as you can buckle a seatbelt, you’ll be fine. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate."

"That makes me feel so much better," he says drily.

"Look, if I spend any more time begging you right now my patient is going to end up with brain damage. Car keys are in my locker; the combination is Ivy's birthday. Beth, hang up on him, please."

Sure enough, the call ends abruptly, leaving Connor to stand there and wonder what he'd expected.

"I don't know her goddamn birthday," he says aloud to no one.

On a hunch he boots up his desktop to open the hospital's L&D records from 2018, and punching in Ava's surname he finds a file from late in the fall. 11-06-18. Got it.

Sure enough, that combination opens the locker, and Connor grabs the car keys from the magnet hook inside the door. He vaguely remembers the name of the daycare, so he punches that into google maps, and even with the snow starting to fall, the drive doesn't hit twenty minutes. When he enters the lobby of the place, the woman at the front desk nods when he awkwardly gives his name.

"Dr. Bekker gave us a call, you're on the approved guardian list," she says. "We appreciate you working with our unpredictable winter schedule; the kids are in the main playroom and their belongings are in the cubbies with their names."

"Got it," Connor says, finding the small cubby with Ivy's name on it. There's a purple coat on one hook and a blue, floral-patterned backpack on the other, and he crosses his fingers and hopes there's nothing else he needs to grab, because he's not exactly sure the three-year-old will tell him. He makes his way into the playroom, scanning the small crowd of children, and a familiar face stares back at him, blonde pigtails bouncing as she crosses the room.

"You're Doctor Rhodes," she says a picture book clutched in one hand. "You work with Mummy." There's a pause, and then she adds, "hi," as if just remembering how to use greetings.

"Yep, that's me," he agrees. It feels insanely weird to have this small child referring to him with his full title, but everything about interacting with her feels insanely weird-- he's going to let Ava tell her what to call him, and all that. "Hey, Ivy, your mom is really busy right now, but because of the snow the nice people here are worried it might not be safe for you to stay all afternoon like usual. So I have your normal car, with your car seat, and we're gonna go back to the hospital. Sound alright?"

"Mhm," Ivy agrees. "I have my coloring books." And then she instantly reaches up for his hand, and he takes hers reflexively, but it brings him a moment's pause when he looks down at her and realizes this is effectively the first time he's held his daughter's hand. But he doesn't really have the time to pause and sit with that, especially with an inquisitive toddler staring up at him, so instead he leads her out of the room and to the car.

"Coloring books sound great."

In the car, Ivy talks a little about friends from her Pre-K, but mostly she looks out the window and dances to the random radio station Connor had turned on. They park in the hospital parking lot, and when Connor lifts Ivy out of her car seat, she wraps her arms around his neck. "It's cold!"

"We'll be inside soon," he tells her, picking her backpack up from the floor of the car. But after he shuts the door and locks the car, he hesitates, looking from Ivy's sneakers to the slushy puddles on the sidewalk. "Um... do you want me to carry you like this?"

"Yeah!" She rests her head on his shoulder. "Your beard is funny."

He chuckles as he begins to walk toward the hospital. "Funny?"

"It's soft. Soft like a fuzzy bear."

"Oh, yeah?" He grins at her. "I thought you weren't supposed to pet bears. Do bears like people?"

"No!" Ivy giggles, leaning back to give him a toothy smile. Connor adjusts his grip to account for the change in her center of gravity. "Bears don't live with people, silly. I got stuffed animals."

"Oh, I see," he says, adopting an air of seriousness. "You're the expert, then."

Ivy certainly agrees with that assessment, and she tells him all about her stuffed animals and their names as they make their way through the hospital. Really, Connor could put her down now that they're out of the weather, but he feels happily warm with her clinging to him so tightly. Yeah, it's a little freaky to meet a tiny alien of a human who's half made of him when she's already her own tiny person, but Ivy is so immediately trusting and bubbly that he can't help but love her. He can lose his shit on his own time; if a toddler wants to hug him, he's gonna hug her back.

"Here we go." Connor sets Ivy on the couch in the CT doctor's lounge, and she eagerly opens up her backpack and pulls out coloring books and crayons. "Your mom will come see you when she's done with surgery."

"Thanks." Ivy quickly opens the coloring book and holds out a crayon to him. "Here. Color."

He takes the crayon, a little surprised. Technically, he really should get back to the trauma floor, but... surely Ava will be out of the OR sooner rather than later. He can stay with Ivy for a little while later.

"Okay," he agrees, sitting on the floor to reach where she has the coloring book on the couch. "What... what color do we start with?"

#chicago med #ava bekker #connor rhodes #chicago med au #chicago med fic #ivy au #my aus #this got long but domestic fluff is my weakness #crockettstiddies #im so tired i might try to tag this better tmrw

[mlobsters]

supernatural s7e18 party on, garth (w. adam glass)

their "comedy" music playing in the recap, my loathed. think i'm toasted enough to not be bothered by cringey humor. hopefully. said it in the first episode garth was in, i don't understand why they decided to make him incompetent at hunting. especially when pretty much whenever we meet hunters, they die.

this kids in the woods setup is very teen wolf. isn't it funny how all these jobs keep involving siblings!!!

DEAN By the way, how is your custard? SAM It's all right. It's getting better. Just wish it wasn't like the damn tape from "The Ring." I mean, I feel like I'm okay 'cause I passed on the crazy. DEAN No, you didn't. You heard what Cas said. DEAN’s phone rings. SAM Let's – let's not. You know what?

i don't remember what cas said that's relevant to this conversation 🥴 that he was sorry he broke sam's wall? no, that doesn't make sense. still dunno

MARIE He's actually a really nice guy. It's just not easy being the axman. DEAN So true.

(a small chain in the twin cities and my brain went *squirrel* lol)

i truly don't know what joke they were trying to make there. that dean thinks he's in charge?

MARIE He blamed himself when Dale died, and now this. DEAN Why did he blame himself? MARIE Well, Dale was sensitive. But what do you do – watch them 24/7? You can't blame Dale's friends.

"sensitive". if he wasn't sensitive, he wouldn't have gotten eaten by that bear/ghost

welp guess we know why sam mentioned The Ring earlier. makeup department did her dirty, i laughed out loud. it's like party city The Ring costume and makeup

same dean, same.

GARTH As in, let's hope for their sake our spirito ain't made it out of the woods. All right. Let's go check it. SAM Uh, you two go. I'm gonna visit the widow.

nice fake smile, very sibling being an asshole vibes

GARTH Trust me. My special lady has twins. [Goes into the living room] Mr. McAnn? DEAN "Special lady?”

i mean, it's a joke because he's not tv handsome, right. what about hunters can't have relationships? s/hunters/winchesters/

ah so they are gonna let garth be competent occasionally, like suggesting bobby is stuck to the flask.

good little mockup here, very detailed

SAM I mean, can you even get drunk anymore? It's kind of like, uh, drinking a vitamin for you, right? DEAN Shut up.

please i'm begging you to stop reusing the template for this thing that has Pass Word. and a login, period!! haha. but also i wonder what compels them to keep changing the desktop background. so mysterious

here for a new mundane activity they don't ever show, refilling the flask. of course, it's a plot-relevant flask so.

SAM I've already tried contacting Bobby. [DEAN looks surprised.] When that beer disappeared, I pulled out a talking board. DEAN Without me? SAM You know, I figured, why drag you in... when it's something I could just put to bed myself.

oh honey

DEAN (on phone) There's another kid. Don't think – move.

i suppose this is an interesting way to avoid a bunch of angsting over bobby directly, but still showing how the loss affected them. dean thinks he's seeing proof of his ghost, sam is brushing him off.

so i've been bracing myself on every goofyish episode, expecting something like the purple nurple episode (s2e15 apparently) which nearly killed me. but fortunately nothing has reached that level.

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 7x18 #spn desktop background update #adam glass #axman

[xx-ashes-xx]

Heyy! I love your blog I was wondering if I could request an enhypen imagine! Could you please do the reader is playfully teasing them and they pick the reader and throw them over their shoulder and tickle them? It’s completely okay if you’re too busy to do this!! Just wanted to let you know that your anon submissions aren’t on :)

Thank you!! 😭 I had no idea that I had to go on desktop to turn on anon submissions and name my asks. I actually don't know if you want an imagine for each member or a reaction+imagine so I just did an imagine for each. I'm new to having a blog so please be patient with me! I didn't know what to title this so I went with no title. :)

Word Count: 1703

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None! But if you have any triggers then be careful!

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction please don’t become a delulu.

Heeseung:

You two were eating ramen in the living room, watching a movie. Heeseung, too caught up with the movie, had ramen noodles hanging out of his mouth as he blankly stared at the TV. You looked over at him, almost spitting out noodles. He looked like he was spaced out or crazy, mouth hanging open, noodles almost falling out his mouth.

You slowly got out your phone, taking a pic.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" Heeseung asked, snapping out of space. He quickly swallowed the noodles and regained his composure. "No." You held back a laugh "You're lying let me see." He argued, trying to reach for your phone.

You held your phone back, just out of his reach, "No, you're going to make me delete it."

You were trying your hardest to hold back laughter, but failed.

"You should've seen yourself, you looked hilarious!" You laughed, holding your stomach from laughing too hard "Give me your phone!!" He yelled, trying to snatch your phone from you. "Noo~ I'm going to set it as my wallpaper." You replied with a cheeky grin.

Heeseung ended up tackling you, tickling your sides until you dropped your phone.

"HeEseUng nO!"

Jay:

Laying on the couch, Jay was too busy on his phone to pay attention to you, who was now bored. Tired of scrolling through your phone, you decided to mess with him for a bit.

You snatched his phone and ran into the hallway.

"Pay attention to me!" You whined, sticking out your tongue to aggravate him "Y/N, give me back my phone!" He shouted, getting up from the couch.

He went to the hallway and tried to snatch his phone back from your hands. After a few tries, he got tired of playing around. He picked you up and threw you over the shoulder.

"Jay! Let me down!!" You shouted, hitting his back "Not until you give me back my phone!" He replied.

He carried you to the bedroom and placed you on the bed, tickling you.

"This is what you get for stealing my phone, you're going to die from tickles." He said "nO. StoP iT." You laughed, still holding onto his phone "Do you really want the gravestone to read, 'Here lies Y/N L/N, died from tickles'?" He questioned "Okay, okay!" You gave up, handing him back his phone "Thank you." He said, giving you a kiss on the temple, "The next time you want attention, just tell me, alright?" "Okay." You smiled.

Jake:

You were playing with Layla while Jake watched.

“Who’s a good girl?? You are.” You said, as you gave Layla belly rubs, “Jakey, doesn’t it seem like she likes me more?” “No way, she loves me the most.” He replied “You sure about that Jakey??” You teased as you hugged Layla.

Layla licked your face before going back to smiling with her tongue out.

“See? She loves me now,” You said, “Layla, do you wanna stay at my house??” “No way, I’m not allowing that.” He replied, “Let’s see who Layla goes to.” “Alright.” You agreed.

You and Jakestand in opposite sides, urging Layla to come closer. Layla was a bit confused on who to go to but after a few seconds, she went to you.

You bursted out laughing, “She loves me the most now!”

Jake practically fell to the ground, eyes closed. He was quiet for a few seconds before screaming, “LAYLA!!”

He stood up back up and tackled you, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you over his shoulder.

“JAKE LET ME DOWN.” You screamed “TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID FIRST, LAYLA LOVES ME THE MOST!” He replied “NEVER!” You shouted.

He started to spin around, making you both dizzy.

“JAKE STOP I’M GETTING DIZZY!” You shouted “NOT UNTIL YOU SAY THAT LAYLA LOVES ME THE MOST!” He replied “OKAY, LAYLA LOVES ME THE MOST!” You teased “AAAHHHHH!” He screamed in frustration.

He puts you down on the couch and when you thought it was over, he started to tickle you.

“AGH JAKE!” You screamed “Repeat after me, Layla loves Jake the most and I will always be second place.” He said “NO!” You replied “I’m not going to stop until you say it.” He said “OkAy, LaylA lOves jAke tHe mOst aNd I wiLl alWays bE seCond PlaCe.” You gave in.

Jake stopped tickling you and smiled in victory.

“But we both know that’s a lie.” You commented, holding back a laugh.

Here comes the tickling.

Sunghoon:

“Rock, paper, scissors on who does the dishes?” You asked “Sure.” Sunghoon agreed.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” You shouted.

You, rock. Sunghoon, scissors.

“YEAHH!” You shouted “WAit waiT, best out of three!” He argued “Too late, you’re doing the dishes.” You replied, sticking out your tongue “You were just lucky, best out of three, you won’t win that’s why you won’t do it.” He complained “Alright you big cry baby, just to prove that fate has chosen you, Park Sunghoon, to do the dishes.” You replied, smirking.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” Sunghoon shouted.

You, rock. Sunghoon, scissors.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” He shouted, “YOU THREW ROCK TWICE THAT’S CHEATING!!” “NO IT’S NOT YOU’RE JUST SALTY!!” You replied.

Sunghoon gave up and threw you over his shoulder, heading towards the living room. “Let me down!” You shouted, hitting his back “Not until you admit you cheated!!” He replied, laying you down on the couch “And what are you gonna do if I don’t?” You questioned “Tickle you.” He replied.

Hands at your sides, aggressively tickling you.

“AGHH SUNGHOON YOU’RE GOING TOO FAR!” You screamed, laughing “NO YOU DID IN ROCK PAPER SCISSORS!” He argued “WHAT ABOUT THIS, WE DO THEM TOGETHER!” You compromised “NO YOU DO THEM!” He argued “SUNGHOON PLEASE!” You begged, trying to swat his hands away from your sides “Fine! But you owe me ice cream afterward!” He said.

Sunoo:

You and Sunoo were doing each other’s makeup. You wanted to prank Sunoo, so you decided to ‘accidentally’ put a bit too much blush and drew hearts all over his face, saying “It’s a Valentine’s Day theme makeup look, relax Sunoo.” “Alright, but you better not do anything funny.” He replied “I won’t.” You lied.

After you were finished, you quickly took a picture and told him to open his eyes.

“Y/N WHAT IS THIS?!” Sunoo screamed, “You said you wouldn’t do anything funny” “I’m sorry! You still look cute though!” You replied, laughing “No I don’t! I look crazy!” He replied, pouting “I’m getting revenge for this!”

Sunoo tackled you, tickling your sides.

“AHH KIM SUNOO!!” You screamed “You brought this upon yourself Y/N L/N!” He said, laughing as well “Sunoo, I’m sorry!! It won’t happen again!” You apologized “That’s not good enough, try again!” He replied “Kim Sunoo, the visual of Enhypen, the most handsome guy I know, the boy with the most duality, my sunshine, I’m sorry for doing that to your precious pretty face!” You shouted.

Sunoo stopped and smiled, “You flatter me, Y/N L/N, but don’t do that again!”

He laid on top of you, head on your chest and arms wrapped around you. “I can’t promise that, but you have a free pass to do that to me.” You said, “Deal?” “Deal, I guess..” He agreed with a pout “I can tell that you’re pouting.” You said, kissing the top of his head, “I love you Kim Sunoo. Don’t ever forget that.” “I know,” He replied, smiling, “I love you too Y/N L/N.”

Jungwon:

You and Jungwon were playing a game on the Nintendo Switch. You kept on winning which made Jungwon a bit frustrated.

“Are you cheating?” He asked “How am I cheating? You just suck.” You teased “No I don’t. Watch, in this match, I’ll win.” He replied.

While playing the game, an idea popped into Jungwon’s head. When you were close to winning, Jungwon suddenly started to tickle you. “YAH YANG JUNGWON YOU CHEATER!” You shouted, trying to finish the match “You’re winning too much!” He replied, “It’s not fair!”

In the end, you won that match.

“A cheater for sure.” He said “You cheated during that match!” You argued, “I was lucky to win.” “Ah, whatever, I shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it.” He said, pouting.

You looked at him, feeling a bit bad that you made him pout.

“It’s alright Jungwon, you can always improve.” You said, “Do you wanna watch a movie and cuddle?” “Can I pick the movie?” He asked “Of course.” You replied, “Want me to go get some ice cream to eat as well?” “Yes please.” He answered.

You went to get some ice cream from the kitchen and went back to the living room with two spoons.

“Cheer up, Jungwon, next time I’ll go easy and let you practice with me.” You said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Ni-ki:

You two were laying in bed, Ni-ki refusing to get up.

“I guess it can’t be helped.” You sighed, getting up.

Before you walked out of the room, you looked back at Ni-ki, his eyes still shut.

“Looks like I’ll have to eat Bungeoppang by myself.” You said loudly, speed walking down the hallway before Ni-ki can tackle you.

You thought you were safe until you were swept off your feet. Ni-ki had you over his shoulder.

“Well that was quick.” You commented “Don’t eat Bungeoppang without me, you can only eat it with me.” He said, his voice hoarse “Yeah, yeah,” You replied, “So you won’t get up when I tell you to but you will when I go to eat Bungeoppang?” “Bungeoppang is for life.” Ni-ki replied.

Ni-ki carried you to the kitchen, placing you down next to a chair.

“I’ll get the Bungeoppang, you sit tight.” He said “Alright.” You replied, holding back a laugh, “We still haven’t brushed our teeth.” “Bungeoppang first, we’ll brush our teeth after.” He said “You mean, you’ll brush your teeth after,” You replied, “Come and brush your teeth when the Bungeoppang is in the microwave, it’ll taste better if you do.” You gave Ni-ki a peck on the cheek before heading to your shared bathroom.

A/N: It took forever to write for all of the members but I’m glad I did but Sunoo’s ending is just 😩😩 I wasn’t able to put in the entire request for all of the members but it still had parts of it. I hope you enjoyed it!

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen jake #enhypen sunoo #enhypen heeseung

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

The Last Cigarette (Spencer Reid x Reader) Smut

Summary: Mr Scratch was an unsub with undoubtedly the greatest impact on the team. Even in death, he pushes Spencer beyond the preconception of his limits. 

AN: This was part of a fic swap on @imagining-in-the-margins​‘ server! This Unsub!Spencer!AU is for the outstanding @cardigayn​ <3 I hope you like it! 

Content warning: Character death, abuse of power, physical assault, murder, Unsub!Spencer, mentions of rape and attempted murder, mentions of knife wounds, unhealthy coping mechanisms

Smut content warning: AFAB!Reader, they/them pronouns, facesitting, hair pulling, overstimulation, light choking, riding, biting, praise kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, a hint of breeding

Gif credit: @imagining-in-the-margins​ // Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

No one on the team spoke about what Luke did to Scratch – or rather, what he didn’t do. The BAU were far beyond tired of that man’s torments. His impact upon each member was the greatest of any unsub they had ever encountered and now it was finally time to close the book on his crimes. That included turning their gaze away from the abuse of power that Luke had taken by letting Scratch fall from that building. Not the first time the team had banded together to mask a member’s tracks.

Spencer glanced up from his paperwork. Everyone else in the bullpen was focused on their tasks, as if nothing had happened. Even Emily was at her desk and typing away at her desktop when she had been an inch away from death not two weeks ago.

Spencer’s pen tapped against the desk twice before it was placed down adjacent to his pencil pot. He remembered the details of their cover-up. That wasn’t what paused his paperwork.

His mind was straying to another timeline, in accordance to the multi-verse theory. Luke had made a choice in this universe to not pull Scratch up. In another universe, he decided to save the unsub. What happened next?

After experiencing prison first hand, Spencer could somewhat pinpoint how long Scratch would have lasted in a place like Millburn. The respect for serial killers on the inside, especially those who had tormented law enforcement, would keep him alive.

There was the chance that there was another universe where Scratch would have gotten off scot free. And another timeline where Scratch, without a gun, overpowered Luke or Matt, taking either or both of them down. Kristy had no husband. Jake, David, Chloe, and Lily had no father. Roxy had no owner.

Maybe it was better that Luke didn’t help Scratch off that ledge, that Matt had just stayed back.

Spencer could not decide what he would have done in that situation, and he didn’t have to. But that didn’t mean another version of him didn’t. To be jealous of a version of himself that did not exist in his world was a bad idea. It was out of his hands and in his head – the roof, the unsub, the choice.

 --->--->--->--->--->

“Anyone want a coffee?”

A series of murmurs rose from the team, all negative, and Luke tucked his chair back under his desk before he walked off to the SAPD break room. Spencer watched his reflection in the conference room’s window. There was an itch in his brain that spread through a nerve to his knee – bouncing it just beneath the table.

Suddenly that nerve propelled him to follow Luke. Spencer’s feet weaved him in between officers until he found his teammate switching on the station’s coffee pot.

“Change your mind?” Luke raised an unsuspicious eyebrow.

“Yes,” Spencer lied, and he collected a mug to wash up. Suds flooded in the sink, rolling out the mug and around the plughole. Spencer fixated on them, a menial hope that he could focus on something else rather than the temptation of asking Luke for details.

He had to be closer of being clean of this whole thing than he thought. Scratch was dead, the case was closed. A few more years, this would be a memory that haunted him every few weeks instead of every day.

Dilaudid was craved by a tiny section of his brain, but he knew that it would not help him at all. He needed something else to help ease the cravings. If only he had inherited his mother’s affinity for cigarettes.

“Can I ask you something?”

Luke shrugged in return, “Sure.” He had opened his palm by his side but did not reach out to Spencer’s clean mug. Spencer appreciated that. A glance at the bullpen, visible through the open door, told him that no one else had followed them. It wasn’t too late. He could come up with a question about the case, about Roxy, about anything.

“What did he look like before he fell?”

Luke’s expression sobered and soured. He too checked the proximity of the police officers outside their bubble. Clearing his throat twice, he poured the coffee into his mug and spun the handle once it was down to fit Spencer’s need.

His voice was low as he said, “He looked desperate.”

Spencer nodded while he poured into his own cup. Perhaps more caffeine would aid him, for he had scratched the itch and it had spread elsewhere. Stirring in some sugar, he took a burning sip before it had dissolved and cringed at the granules in his mouth.

It was when he’d finally swallowed them, instead of spitting out like he wanted to, that Spencer gave into the itch: “Did he say anything to you?”

“He asked me to help him.” Luke blew on his coffee before taking a sip. Even then, he still struggled to swallow it. “He begged.”

“That can’t have been easy. Thanks for telling me.”

But Luke didn’t seem like he concurred. In fact, he looked as though he wanted to make right the claim and say that letting Scratch die was the easiest decision in the world.

Spencer blinked. Luke was gone, already back in the conference room. Perhaps he’d imagined something like that. His attention shifted to Scratch’s face, morphing it until it was a stereotypical expression of fear. Spencer had heard too much of that man’s voice, but it was good for one thing: recreating the words Luke had told him.

“Help me. Please!”

Matt was back with Emily.

And suddenly so was Luke. Spencer had gone it alone after Scratch. It was just the two of them on the roof, and soon it would be one.

Scratch’s clothes were whipped up by the wind, his begging too. It was almost as though he reached up for Spencer. One last cry for help. Then he fell, silent and ragdoll-esque.

Just before the body hit the ground, Scratch was clinging to the building’s side again. When he fell this time, he screamed hysterically. It echoed across the roof until Spencer couldn’t discern it from the wind. A swell of relief spread through his body. He took a sip from his coffee.

“Reid?” Just as he had done a minute prior, Luke was lingering in the doorway. “We should get back to the conference room.”

“Right,” Spencer dropped the teaspoon onto the side. It clattered about the side, then went quiet, then hit the floor. Spencer didn’t turn to see where it landed.

 --->--->--->--->--->

What an absolute smarty pants who could just about learn to use Teams by himself. Spencer leant to the right in his office chair as his partner Y/N showed him the ropes of his new application. How lucky he was to still have them after all they had been through – together and apart.

“And… ta-dah!” Y/N made jazz hands at the monitor.

“Thank you. You’re so good to me,” Spencer straightened up, smiling at the screen, “Can I get you a reward?”

Y/N seemed to ponder on this offer, an act Spencer had seen many times and never grew tired of. Then Y/N tapped their cheek twice and bent forward. With butterflies in his stomach, Spencer tilted his chin up and pressed a lingering kiss there. There was a bashful smile across their face when they drew away. Even after all this time, Spencer was proud he could still affect them so.  

The door to his office shut behind them and Spencer looked over his desktop’s background. His students’ homework was hovering in the background, already being printed off. The printer stuttering out each page had long since been tuned out

He glanced away from it to his left and saw Y/N again. Their arms were wrapped around themselves, their body close and facing Spencer with a clear expression drawing bravery upon them. Spencer’s head then turned to see if Scratch was still dangling by the tips of his fingers. He was.

“What do I do?” Spencer asked, his voice almost torn away by the wind he couldn’t feel against his cheek.

Y/N hardly spared Scratch a glance. They had never seen him before, and they made this one time they did as short as possible. Their hand moved Spencer’s head so that Scratch was in his blind spot. They held his face and looked on him sweetly, even in the darkness around them.

They gave Spencer their answer: “Leave him.”

Scratch’s body trembled as his head rigidly shook, “Please!”

But Y/N took Spencer’s hand in their free one and they held it even as Scratch’s grip failed him. Only then did they look at the unsub and watch unflinchingly together as their tormenter fell to his death. A second later, the pair heard the body hit the ground. Spencer began to move towards the ledge, Y/N tugging him back towards the door of the roof.

“I have to see,” Spencer insisted, “I have to know he’s really gone.”

There was no pity, just empathy, as Y/N nodded their head, “Ok.” Their hands tensed together while they approached the roof’s end.

There he was, his body broken, his head smashed against the dirt. Lifeless. Gone.

Then Scratch was falling again, the last seconds of existence, and Y/N was hiding their face in Spencer’s shoulder. He was holding them tight, so that if they changed their mind about watching, they wouldn’t be able to. But he was watching everything in slow motion.

Every fraction of change in Scratch’s terror was drawn out until it was a pantomime of itself.

“Are you ok?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

Closing his eyes, Spencer kissed Y/N’s head. He basked in his comfort before he opened his eyes again and drew a deep breath from the comfort of his desk chair. Then he collected the printed essays of his students, grabbing a pen to prepare for marking.

  --->--->--->--->--->

 This time Hotch was there, Jack’s face hidden in his father’s chest. Derek too, holding little Hank with all the tenderness a father could.

Spencer waved his hand towards the door, “Get them out of here. I don’t want them to see this.” He waited dutifully for them to leave, both of them sending a nod Spencer’s way.

Once the door bounced against its frame to close, he stood at the edge. He couldn’t feel the cold rushing past him, coaxing him to fall with Scratch, but he could picture hearing it. Almost deafening him to Scratch’s pleas, he turned those words up loud so that he could hear the moment the words stopped, the moment that Spencer pulled out his Smith & Wesson and shot Scratch in the head. His grip faltered instantly and his lifeless body tumbled down.

“No.”

Spencer screwed his eyes shut before looking back at the geographic profile.

“No what?”

He started. He didn’t realise that Tara was still in the room with him.

His words tumbled out quickly, “Just testing a theory, but it’s not right, it doesn’t fit.”

Nodding, Tara made her way beside him and observed the evidence collected so far, “We’ll get there. Just keep that brain going.”

Spencer planned to do just that. This daydream wasn’t as satisfying, like Nicorette mists or chewing gum. Just shooting him in the head? That was more than mercy for Scratch. No, he’d have to come up with something else to use. For the daydream of course.

He was glad that Tara was treating him normally. Not like JJ, who had checked in on him for Dilaudid before take-off. She was hovering around him like a gnat and it was starting to piss him off. Where was this energy when he was actually contemplating the drug’s pros and cons? He was determined to keep it together for the team to function and solve this case, but JJ in his peripherals was making it hard to focus. On work. Not the daydreaming. He loved her to bits, but he just wished she’d leave him to his own devices unless it concerned the case. That was the priority now.

The broken fingers of the victims sat like warped roots of a tree on the board, each knuckle shattered with a hammer. This unsub – a man in his 20s, not 30s – had such an odd post-mortem signature. Like when Ronald Weems did on the prostitutes. The ones Nathan Harris was obsessed with, wrote about, then killed himself before he could re-enact such a crime.

But it was fine. This was different. Spencer wasn’t writing these down. He didn’t need to. That, and he wasn’t about to recreate his daydreams.

“Excuse me.”

“Off for a smoke?” Luke joked half-heartedly.

Shortly after shaking off that effort at a joke, Spencer’s hand froze against the metal pole of the wheelchair access to the police station. His lungs took a deep breath of the cool Christmas air, a worthless hit. He hoped that Derek and Hotch were being the fathers they always wanted to be - that Gideon could have been.

--->--->--->--->--->

Adrenaline was what enabled him to haul Scratch up. Still, Spencer strained with his weight. He was gasping with the unsub when they were both allowed back onto the roof, Scratch’s knees digging into the floor for security and his hands still clasping the edge of the building - from the other side now.

Spencer watched, blood roaring in his ears with each panting breath. He took one deeper and let out a yell as he kicked his foot up into Scratch’s nose. Scratch rolled onto his back with a ragged rasp, blood spouting from his nose to stain everything it made contact with, and his head lolled off the edge of the building. Spencer’s chest burned with unsatisfaction so he kicked again. This time, his foot came down on Scratch’s groin. Ineffective in stopping him from standing, this was personal deliverance of pain.

He was out of breath but completely fine. He had the energy to drag Scratch back with one hand at his ankle, so now his head was beneath a solid enough surface to stomp on three times. Each one sent Scratch’s eyes rolling back further into his head.

Spencer began to use his hands. Getting close into Scratch’s space, he lay punch after punch, no pain on his hands, no. He put it all into Mr Scratch for every second he stole from him and his team until finally he stood up.

Scratch barely had enough energy to cough behind the blood pooling in his mouth. But Spencer could make out the one word he was wheezing in his agony.

“Spencer.”

Then, and only then, did Spencer draw his gun once more and shoot Mr Scratch in the neck.

The jet jolted as its wheels touched the runway. Spencer leant back in his chair, dragged as the jet slowed to a stop. He grunted, his head still catching up to that sudden jolt.

“I want you all to just go home, alright?” Prentiss was already stood at the end of the plane’s gangway, “Get some rest.”

The rest of the trip home was a blur for Spencer; it was committed to his memory but not with any intrigue. Only when he dropped his keys in the front door’s bowl did he start paying attention to his surroundings again. Y/N was powerwalking over to him, instinctively reaching out long before they made it to him.

“Hey baby!” They greeted, and Spencer enfolded them into a tight embrace, “You must be knackered.”

They swayed a little on the spot as Spencer answered, “I was.”

“Was?”

“Not after seeing you.”

His chin brushed over Y/N’s shoulder before he kissed that spot, smiling against the cloth of their shirt. His support rocked as Y/N giggled. Their grip on him tightened for a moment before they ran a hand over his tummy, the little “pouch” as they had affectionately named it. A thought ran past his eyes: that it wouldn’t hurt to start working out if he was going to do more than just shoot Scratch.

“Cheeky,” Y/N touched one of his curls as they pulled away, “Come on, let’s go to bed. Not like that.” They tapped his nose at the raise of his eyebrows.”

“I missed you,” Spencer said, not immediately after that, but when they were both in bed together, “I always do.”

“Me too.”

Y/N was unable to look Spencer in the eye. Spencer loved that they were so overwhelmed with love that they had to seek refuge elsewhere. They were just like him in that sense.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  Gun drawn, Spencer took deliberate steps stalking through the darkened apartment complex. The entire area was due for demolishing the following morning, so there were plenty hiding spaces for this unsub to jump out of. Every deep breath stilled his hands as he moved swiftly around each corner. Matt mumbled something in his earpiece about going down to the poolside.

He made his way to the third floor and followed the glowing green signs towards the fire escape.

Martin Harvey had just turned around to see Spencer. He instantly dropped the pipe he was wielding and thrust his hands into the air.

“Ok, ok, ok, you got me. Don’t shoot.”

His legs crumbled and he fell to his knees. A coward, just like the profile had said. This was too easy. No, it wasn’t actually. Interviewing those parents and friends of the victims, gritting teeth while working through red tape set up by the small town talk and the prejudices constructed long before this case occurred, none of that and none of what came prior was easy.

“Get up there.”

Harvey frowned, his eyes unsteady between Spencer’s face and Spencer’s gun, “What?”

Spencer tilted the barrel of his gun to the fire escape stairs for a second, immediately returning it onto Harvey, “You heard me.”

Shaking, Harvey took the steps as they came. His hands were still on his head. His boots made hollow clanks against the rusting metal, echoing Spencer’s lighter taps, until they came into contact with the concrete of the roof. The wind felt more brutal today. It was colder than Spencer imagined. The February chills shouldn’t dissuade him much though.

The second Harvey made a move to spin around, Spencer smacked his head with the butt of his gun. Harvey tripped forwards but remained upright. So Spencer holstered his weapon, grabbed Harvey’s shoulder, and punched across his nose. Both men let out a cry. Spencer flexed his fingers to subside the pain, but it continued to shoot up and down his bones. Another attempt, he grappled with the scruff of Harvey’s shirt then shoved him off his balance to the ground. The unsub wobbled and cried out as he fell backwards. Spencer kicked again, not as strong as the last time, but he felt the surge of power in him. Adrenaline, real and flooding his every movement. This was beyond what his fantasies had ever brought him, and he was living for it. He didn’t have to hold back anymore.

“Why are you doing this?” Harvey sobbed, trying to hide in his hands. Pathetic. The man who had raped and attempted murder on five different women couldn’t take it when a man stood up to him.

He hit Harvey once more but drew back from the opportunity for a third. Instead, he rolled the body over the edge with just enough tact to allow Harvey to make a grab for the edge.

Once more, Harvey begged for Spencer to stop.

Spencer looked down on this low life, this scum that dared to interfere with innocent lives for fun. The heel of his shoe came down hard on Harvey’s hand. He howled in pain. Spencer stomped down again; this time there was a series of collective crunches. Harvey let go with that hand, but the other was still clinging dearly to the roof.

As he stared into those panicked eyes, Spencer squatted down beside Harvey’s hands. Broken fingers flailed nearby, Harvey not strong enough to pull himself up and reach for Spencer. His thumb slid off the edge, and the pinkie finger too.

The begging faded into the background. The fear in his face, it had to be at least somewhat the same as Scratch’s. The proximity to danger was beyond comfort.

People he lost:

Derek.

Hotch.

Emily, nearly.

People he loved:

Tara.

Matt.

Penelope.

Luke.

JJ.

Him.

Mom.

Y/N.

Spencer brought down the butt off his gun onto the last three fingers holding on. His eyelids forced him to watch as Harvey fell fast to the ground, a crunch of bones reaching his ears when the ground met with him

A delicious shiver ran up Spencer’s spine. He shook his shoulders and breathed it out. There was not the extreme of happy. Felt in his heart was content in the gentle breeze, in the dull pain.

“Prentiss. He’s dead. I’m on the roof.”

“We’re on our way, Reid.”

--->--->--->--->---> 

  Paramedics had pressed the sterilised cotton against his cuts while his eyes were on the bag that was wheeled away towards the other ambulance. Spencer’s thousand-yard stare ended shortly after that; Emily walked into his view and touched his shoulder. Her embrace was welcomed greatly, as was the nap he took on the flight back.

His bag was not as heavy as he remembered it being as he drew up to his apartment. Once his keys were out the door, he dropped everything and was on his way to the bedroom for an early night when he bumped into Y/N – who was all bundled in their pyjamas.

“You’re back! In time for Valentine’s Day!” Y/N’s smile was quick to disappear, “What happened?”

“I found the unsub. He fought back, resisted. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh Spencer.” They hovered an inch over his face before they settled their hands on him.

A quick kiss on his lips, then they took him into the kitchen and set about making a tea for him. But Spencer didn’t really need, or want, one. He slipped up behind them, mumbling into their ear, “I’m meant to be the one taking care of you today.”

“We take care of each other, Spencer, you know that.” Y/N patted his arms that were now around their waist. Spencer kissed the spot below their ear, smirking into\ them as he felt the stutter in their movements. His lips found the side of their neck and kissed again.

“We do,” He agreed.

“You know, I won’t be able to take care of you if you keep doing that.”

“Oh, you will,” Spencer nuzzled his cheek against them, “Just not by making me tea.” To make extra sure his point was getting across, Spencer moved them around and kissed them with two fingers lightly pinching their chin.

“Your hand-”

“Doesn’t hurt. And I have two.”

Already Spencer was unbuttoning Y/N’s shirt, his thin fingers parting it open to place his cool touch against their bare skin. It shuddered beneath him, sending waves to help him map the rest of their body again in his mind. A tingle sat in between his shoulder blades as Y/N tugged at the curls in the nape of his neck.

How they got into bed doesn’t really matter. It was when Spencer’s hands pressed into the mattress that he winced away from Y/N’s lips.

“You are hurting,” They pushed to sit up.

“I’m fine.”

“You need to rest.”

“What I need is for you to sit on my face and not stand up until I say so.”

Spencer heard Y/N’s teeth knock together as they closed their once-agape mouth. “Can you help me with that?”

Y/N nodded, dumbstruck at Spencer’s words and the thumb he was dragging across their bottom lip in an attempt to distract from his injuries.

“Y/N, I’m ok. Really. It’s just a little sting. Let me love you.”

“I’m not stopping you. I’m just worried.”

Throb of each cut on his hand as his fingers fanned across their skin Grasping tight on their thighs

He only had to let go for a moment while Y/N stripped clean of their clothes Seeking refuge, he felt completely content with those thick thighs wrapped around his head. Not a single time did his mind stray to Scratch or any other unsub now that Y/N was safe from them. Calm seeped over him, fuelling his biting and lavishing his tongue upon their inner thighs

His pace enjoyed such a leisurely stroll around their cunt, the tip of his tongue gliding through each of their folds. Eyes still closed, he had the image of it soaking wet with his spit and their juices. He licked his lips once before he pursed them around the clit. His hands, now stiff and sore from stroking their hips, reached up to touch their chest. He fondled at their sensitive nipples with delight at Y/N fisting at his hair. All this, and he licked at Y/N’s clit like it was an ice lolly on a summer’s day.

When Y/N came first, they let out short bursts of breath coupled with their moans. The second time, they had to hold onto the bedframe as their body slumped forward and their clit rubbed up against Spencer’s nose. On the third, they fell off his chin, rolled to their side of the bed. Giggles fell from their satisfied smile as they curled up. Smearing the back of his hand across his mouth, Spencer pushed onto his side so he could reach them for another kiss. Y/N could barely respond and they were still laughing as Spencer pulled them into his lap. His fingers looked so pretty around their neck; he kept them there until silence filled the room again. When they reached that moment, he squeezed lightly and let out a gentle “hmm” at Y/N’s moan.

“You good, darling?” He whispered.

“Just what the doctor ordered.”

Though their lips were together, they parted in pants and smiles.

“You got one more for me?”

“Of course,” Y/N clumsily patted a hand down his cheek, “You haven’t even had one yet.”

“I don’t need one.”

“You must be the only guy to say that and mean it.”

Swallowing the statistic on how many men had said they wanted to orgasm during sex, Spencer watched Y/N struggle to sit on his cock. Their legs were shaking uncontrollably; they didn’t settle, not even in his firm hold.

His hands dragged them down onto him and over their moans he whispered, “Doesn’t mean I don’t want one.”

“I wanna give you what you want.”

As Y/N  rocked into him, Spencer shared the last of their tangy taste that lingered on his tongue. Then he found peace in resting his chin on their shoulder, rising and falling as they did.

“You wanna cum for me?”

Their words hit his ears, “Please, help me.”

A spike of pleasure ripped through his body. In an instant, Spencer flipped them over and drove his hips hard into them. His teeth sunk into the skin of their shoulder before releasing his load into them. His entire being trembled into Y/N, their ankles locked in his lower back lazily as he milked every last drop of exhilaration he could from them.

His cock stayed inside them, keeping his cum safe inside. Y/N barely lifted their head but luckily for them, Spencer’s shoulder was within their reach. They bit him in the same spot he had bitten them, not releasing him until their marks matched.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” They mumbled against him.

Spencer tipped himself back an inch or two, “I’m happy you’re safe too.” He didn’t mind the ache on his skin any more than the others. It was a nice collection he had gathered today.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Spencer.”

--->--->--->--->--->  

 This was it, the last cigarette. He didn’t have to worry about Scratch anymore after this.

A low whistle lead Spencer to pull at his collar sheepishly, and Tara leant against his desk. At first, he ignored her, signing off the last of his paperwork. His mandatory session with the team’s therapist set fresh on his lungs without a single symptom of guilt.

“Well, well, well,” Tara teased, indicating to her neck with two fingers tapping, “Something about a life or death situation that gets you in the mood?”

“Actually, research into the terror management theory has shown that people respond to mortality reminders by bolstering their own cultural view, derogating opposing views, and shoring up their self-esteem. By this account, the effect of death on libido will depend on the meaning that sex has for a person.”

“And what does it mean for you?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“You don’t have to,” Tara grinned, “I would hazard a guess that Y/N’s looking the same.”

Spencer shook his head playfully, “We said we wouldn’t profile each other.”

The ribbing came to a close as Penelope brushed past and announced to the bullpen, “We have a new case, in the conference room.”

Spencer dropped his finished case file into Emily’s empty office on the way to the conference room, his hand only complaining an itch at the motions of holding a pen and a form. It didn’t end as he flicked over the file’s papers while Penelope went over the details of their latest case – gruesome photos of open knife wounds the television screens.

The shrinking juxtaposition between body discoveries indicated a devolving unsub with a disintegrating cooling off period. Basically, it was an unsub not worthy of his daydreams or of his injuries.

Except that’s not what it was at all. This was an unsub to be arrested and face punishment, before more people could be hurt. Spencer didn’t need a cooling off period because he wasn’t going to do that again. He could recall his played-out fantasy in complete and utter detail, never forgetting a thing he saw.

And anyway, this unsub was definitely an impotent and disorganised man lashing out. Couldn’t hold a candle to Scratch. So why waste his time on that? Why would he have another cigarette when he didn’t need one right now?

--->--->--->--->

AN: I do not condone the actions displayed in this fic. I find unsub!AUs of the show interesting developments and the intended recipient of this fic is aware of that. I will not write a part two for this, because I do not have the motivation or idea besides Spencer getting caught and subsequently arrested.

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #smut #my writing #wc: 5k+

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 3

This part is a little more plot heavy, but I added in some nice Whumpy bits too! I hope you guys enjoy, and thanks everyone for their suggestions!

Also, the next part of this may be a bit late, as I’m planning for my next piece to be the continuation of Villainsicle!

CW//Mentions of law enforcement, mentions of therapy/treatments, restraints, medical abuse, begging, screaming, forced sedation, needles, blood

Open the door.

It would be so simple. The entrance was constructed of little more than wood and a flimsy lock. Even someone without the benefit of powers could break it. And, based on what Hero had seen so far of this place, it may not have even been locked.

Just open it.

Open the door, and they could sleep again.

Open the stupid door.

But...

Hero’s hands clenched into fists, their gaze moving upwards, fixing upon the metal plaque upon the door.

‘43′

Beyond the simple plank of wood, their nemesis was laying. Suffering. Trapped in their own mind.

They could open the door, just twist the knob, and save them. In any other time, any other instance, it was what they would have done. They knew the way the others spoke of them, joked about them. Saying they’d jump off a bridge, even if their friends hadn’t done it first. They couldn’t control their impulses. That was what Leader always wrote, in the reports. Impulsive. Reckless.

That’s what they were. Reckless.

But that was back when it didn’t matter. That was back when the only one in danger was them. Hero. Now that Villain was part of the equation?

They had to think. They had to be smart.

Hero bit their tongue with enough force that the taste of bloody iron washed over their taste buds.

They didn’t open the door.

Around the corner, a doctor in blue scrubs furrowed their brow, and dipped away to make a phone call.

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“If I’m being completely honest, Hero, I wasn’t expecting you to contact me again.”

Hacker spoke with their head down, sheepish, as though a child apologizing for breaking a toy.

Again, the two sat in the same diner: It was busy, but crowded enough that they could simply blend into the lunch rush without fuss. To avoid questions, the both of them had ordered an appetizer, though neither of them had much of an appetite to speak of.

“You weren’t? Why’s that?”

“I mean...” They leaned back in their seat, pressing their spine against the padded booth seat back. “I didn’t think you’d care? That sounds kind of rude now that I’m saying it out loud but... The stuff I was showing you, I assumed you were already aware of it.”

“You thought I knew the way Villain was being treated?”

“Kind of? That’s the kind of stuff they tell you, right?”

“Eh...” Hero dropped their gaze. “Not really. That’s not our business. We catch the crook, what happens to them after isn’t really our focus.”

Hacker frowned.

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“So you didn’t know?”

“Not at all. I knew they were at that facility but... I thought it was fine. I thought Villain was fine.”

“Maybe I should have told you sooner, then.”

“You knew?”

“Well.” There came the embarrassment once more, their cheeks flushing. “For the scale of your organization, your cybersecurity is a little... lacking. Everything from that rehab facility, it’s stored on an off-site backup. Their on-site security is decent, but once it goes through that external data channel, it’s caught right in my net.”

“Is that right?”

“Don’t tell anyone, please?”

“Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it. I have much bigger problems than low level hackers.”

“Hey!”

“That’s not to say you’re a low-level hacker.”

“That’s better. Then, if you’re not here to like, arrest me-”

“That’s what you thought I was doing?”

“Kinda. If that’s not what you want, what do you want?”

“I want to know more.”

Hero had made the decision upon planning this meeting that they were not to tell Hacker about their visit to the facility. Despite the aid they had already offered, it was hard to trust someone who admitted to criminality with such nonchalance. And, besides, Hero was almost certain that their superiors wouldn’t be happy to know about their distraction.

“More?”

“You’ve been watching them for a while, right? I want to know more. Everything about Villain, everything about the whole place. How much do you know?”

“A lot. I have a considerable amount of files, though I have no way of knowing how many more there are that I don’t have. How many they keep on-site.”

“But you have information?”

“I have a lot of junk. Taxes, insurance, quarterly reports, formalities. Prescriptions for mundane crap like, I don’t know, allergies. But, I think I have a few diamonds in the rough. You’re going to have to be more specific than that, though. I do need something to work off of.”

Hero nodded, biting their lip. They hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead.

They were getting Villain out of that so-called rehab facility. They knew that much. But they needed to be smart about it. They needed information. They needed to know how they could get their friend- foe out of that place quickly, safely, and with as little noise as possible.

“The facility.” They began. “How does it work? It’s a relatively small facility housing a relatively large number of dangerous criminals. How do they... help them? They’re not all treated like Villain, right?”

“I don’t think there’s enough drugs on the continent to keep them all like Villain. Their methods of treatment are... unclear. The patient reports indicate what therapies each one is undergoing, but they don’t have names. Just numbers. Codes. Whatever they do in there, they keep it in house. My doctor friends have never heard of any of it, before.”

“Then how do they do it? Drugs?”

“If they have some kind of secret therapy, I don’t know about it. But they do have something else. They call it AMRS.”

“AMRS?”

“The Automatic Magnetic Restraint System. A fancy name for a crude practice. They’re vague about it, of course, but from what I can tell, each resident wears these four ring things. Bracelets, it calls them. One on each wrist, one on each ankle. A single push of a button, and they all link together. Any escape stopped in a second.”

“That seems...”

“Cruel? Yeah. But I guess it could be worse. As far as how the facility operates, though, that’s all I have. It’s not drugs, as far as I can tell. I have those dosage reports for everyone, and those that take medicine seem to do so for genuine medical conditions. Insulin, epilepsy medication, that kind of thing.”

“None of the others are sedated?”

“Not officially.”

“But Villain...”

“I think if they were any more heavily sedated, they’d go right from a temporary sleep to a permanent one.”

“You mean-”

“They’d die, yes. It’s called a euphemism, dumbass.”

“I know that. So, what about Villain, do you have anything else on them?”

“They’ve been kept heavily sedated since they arrived. Regular patient records, they just... don’t have them. No behavior reports, no treatment reports, nothing.”

“I guess they’re not really treating them.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ve really been kept like this, ever since I- Ever since they arrived?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.”

“Then it wasn’t reactionary.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t try to like, blow up the facility, or kill up all the staff, or anything?! They were just knocked out. Locked up. They weren’t even given a chance to be good?”

Hacker lowered their gaze, nodding.

“Why?”

“Are you sure you want-”

“You know why?”

“I’m not certain, but-”

“Show me.”

Hacker startled a bit, but nodded once more, starting up their beast of a laptop and typing for a considerable amount of time. Hero could not help but hold their breath, and when the computer was at last turned to face them, they felt about to pass out.

“Wait.” Hacker spun the computer back. “You need to promise me something, first.”

“What?” Hero hated how desperate they sounded.

“Whatever you do, after you see this... please, just think it through.”

“Okay.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

The screen was returned to Hero.

They halfway expected another video feed. A video of Villain, destroying and killing and doing something, anything to deserve their current treatment.

Instead, they were faced with an email. Or, at least, a screenshot of one. Passed through enough computers that the jpeg artifacts had begun to show.

An email from Director to Head Doctor.

The text was simple. Curt. A simple request to destroy a life.

“I am certain that you are aware of the new patient you will be intaking tomorrow. I request that you do not classify them among the other patients. Normal intake procedures will be unnecessary. You need only keep them contained. Alive if you can, dead if you must.

Villain must never see the light of day again. I trust that you will be able to accomplish this.

Thank you-- Do not forget that we will be meeting for lunch next Wednesday.”

Not even a hundred words. That was all it took, to turn a spirited fighter to a vegetable.

“Thank you, Hacker. I think... I think I need to go home.”

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Hero’s parting from the restaurant was sudden enough to make several other patrons look up. Hacker could not help but feel embarrassment well up in their chest. They hated being out in public like this.

They figured, even with the cold food sitting before them, they should be going. Finger on their mouse, they closed the email on the screen, revealing-

Not their desktop.

They had forgotten. They had meant to show Hero and they had forgotten.

Now, the video sat there, waiting. A chipper white arrow informing them that it was ready to play at any time.

They shouldn’t have. Hell, they could have at least waited to go home. But...

Hacker plugged in a set of earbuds, setting the buds themselves in their ears.

They clicked play.

Even on the rather low-quality security camera footage, the crash was loud enough to make Hacker jump. Three lab-coated figures, a mess of limbs and white coats, leapt atop the hospital gown wearing person like a predator after prey.

Villain was not facing the camera, but it made no difference. Their voice made them more than distinctive enough.

“Get the fuck off of me! Get off get off get off!“ The scream was loud enough to break the microphone’s volume filter, turning into a single, mournful screech.

If the labcoats heard, they did not listen. They positioned themselves along their captive’s body-- one holding their legs, one the arms, and one forcing their face to the tile.

“Please!”

The fourth figure wore a different outfit, a pair of blue scrubs, though the camera quality made them appear almost grey. Represented by only a few pixels, the syringe in their hand was none the less distinctive.

“Hold them still, please.” The doctor muttered, kneeling down beside Villain, their hysterical screaming not missing a beat.

“No! No! Please, please don’t do this! I don’t want to go! Please!”

There were no comforting words. Only the satisfied nodding of the head doctor as their needle slipped deftly to a vein and administered its contents.

“What is that, what is that, no no no please!”

A nurse handed down another syringe, and another, and another. The timestamp in the video’s corner dragged on in agonizing slowness as new pinpricks of blood welled up over Villain’s skin.

It took only a few minutes for their screaming to stop. Then their thrashing. Then, they closed their eyes.

It would be a long, long time until they opened them again.

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Of course, home was not a place of rest. Not as much as Hero would have liked it to be. They were not a civilian-- they were not that lucky. They did not have the chance to return home to a soft bed and a loving family.

No. When they went home, they went to work.

It was only past noon when they returned home to the HQ. A time at which the towering building stood largely abandoned, its occupants leaving in droves to flood the nearby restaurants like a locust swarm.

Riding the elevator to the floor containing their quarters, Hero hoped beyond hope that their team, too, had gone out.

But, of course, they had no such luck.

They didn’t even make it to their quarters. No, as soon as the elevator doors opened, their heart sunk.

“I saw you walk in.” Leader’s arms were crossed over their chest, a single eyebrow raised. “Let’s go to my office.”

“I was just about to go back to my dorm-”

“Actually, you were just about to follow my orders and go to my office.”

Hero slumped their shoulders. They didn’t have the energy to fight this, especially since they knew it was a fight they couldn’t win.

Leader’s office was a place they had all visited, though never under good circumstances. It was far too immaculately kept for what it was used for, a solid oak desk standing in a room well decorated with house plants and bookshelves. Leader took their seat, and Hero reluctantly did the same, across from them.

“So,” Leader began--they were not one for formalities. “When exactly when you planning on telling me?”

“If you’re going to yell at me about something, you at least have to tell me what.”

“Teammate told me, yesterday. They found out why you’re getting so distracted.”

Hero dropped their gaze. They weren’t exactly surprised about this. They only hoped Teammate had kept their mouth shut about their plans.

“It’s really nothing.” Hero tried. “I’ll get over it.”

“This anniversary you’re getting so upset over was ten days ago. By the time you get over it, another year will have already passed. So, no. You’re not getting out of it that easily. I need to know what’s gotten you so worked up.”

Hero gripped the arm of their chair.

“I’m worried. That’s all. Worried about Villain. It’s been too long. They’ve been so silent for so long.”

Leader frowned.

“I can personally assure you that Villain is being well taken care of. The rehabbers have more experience than you could imagine.”

“That’s just it! Villain spent so long terrorizing the city, and they’re still here. But they’re so quiet.”

Leader sighed, sitting up straight in their chair.

“This isn’t just a minor distraction. You need to know that. It’s reflecting on your performance, and heavily. Enough that Director has noticed.”

“Director?”

“Yes. They asked me about the situation, and I informed them of your current problem. They stated that, if it really is such a concern to you, they can have Villain moved to another facility. Somewhere farther.”

“No!”

“What? They think it would help, really. Out of sight. Out of mind.”

“No. They need to be here.”

“And why would that be?”

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Leader can help. Tell the truth - Should Hero tell Leader about Director’s role in Villain’s condition?

B.) Leader can also ruin the whole operation. Lie - What should Hero do next?

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #nemesis #choose your own adventure #choose your own whump #villain whumpee #hero villain whump #drugged whumpee

[lovelylexipedia]

Just Friends – Alex Karev x Fem! Reader

Type: Imagine (2,200+ words)

Requested: No

Summary: After being invited to a gala, you beg Alex to accompany you to help soften the blow of your mother's demands of you finding a suitable man.

Warning(s): Grey's Spoilers, Mild Swearing, Smut-ish towards the end

Note(s): You're a Peds nurse, so you and Alex grew close over the years, and your mom is a famous fashion designer. Thank you for reading!

———

I sit behind the nurse's station, going over a couple of charts. I drift my index finger over a few lines, then look up to log the information into the desktop computer in front of me. My ears perk up as I hear a familiar voice coming from down the hallway to my left. I look up from the log and spot my best friend and Pediatrics Chief, Alex Karev.

He enters a patient's room and I duck my head down to continue transfering information from the charts that I have. After a few minutes, he comes out and knocks on the marble island in front of my seat.

I look up and give him a sweet smile. "Hey, Karev. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to say hi." He smirks, returning the smile.

"Aw, that's so–"

"Ah, just kidding. I just need the chart for 2211. The kid in there is allergic to a few medications and I just need to look over which ones." Alex leans his forearms against the island and scrunches his nose.

"Rude." I roll my eyes before sifting through my pile of charts on my lap and beside me on the desk. I grab it and begin to hand it to him, but then I remember that I need a favor. "Actually," I pull the chart back, looking Alex up and down, "could you do me a favor?"

Alex reaches over for the chart and shakes his head. "You've asked me too many times for me to know that what I'm gonna agree to is gonna be either embarrassing or go down really badly."

I pull my arm back and feign a gasp. "What? No! It's just a simple, teeny-tiny favor, Alex, please!"

"Let me hear it," he grumbles, standing straight and crossing his arms. "This better be quick."

"Okay, so you know how my mom has these galas a couple of times a year to celebrate the brand and their partners?"

"Yes?" Alex drags out.

"Well, she invited me to one and wants me to bring a date. And I was hoping‐"

"No, no no no no no." Alex turns and walks away briskly. I tuck 2211's chart under my arm and I immediately get up to try and follow him.

I trail behind Alex, pouting. "Karev, please! It's just gonna be for a few hours!"

"Don't you have patients to tend to, L/n?" Chief Bailey turns the corner and stops in her tracks, eyeing the chart in my arm. I wince and Alex shakes his head.

"She's being a brat about her Mom's stupid gala," Alex explains as he leans against a wall a few feet down from the nurse's station.

"Am not!" I scoff and shove Karev lightly. He chuckles and finally turns to look at me.

"Well whatever it is, it better not he interfering with patient care. Hurry on." Bailey continues down the hallway, making a few stops in a could rooms along the way.

I give Alex a lopsided smile before continuing to pester him. "Alex, please. My mom really wants me to bring someone."

"Yeah, and that someone should be your boyfriend." Alex raises his eyebrow as if he's challenging me.

"Alex, you and I both know I don't have one of those. Believe me, I don't wanna go either, but the gala's tomorrow. Please? I'll do anything."

"Whatever," he turns and begins walking away, but I quickly catch up to him.

"I'll do your laundry for a week. I'll pay your rent for three months. I'll buy you a suit for tomorrow!" I finally intercept him and stand in front of him, hugging the chart in front of my chest and keeping my arms tight around me.

"Fine. But you're telling your mom that we're just friends. None of this 'fake boyfriend' crap." He points an accusing finger at me and I nod happily.

"Ah, thank you, Alex. Send me your measurements tonight so I can order your suit so we can have it ready for tomorrow!" I hug him briskly and hand him the chart curtly, before rushing back to the nurse's station to finish with the rest of the charts.

———

I knock on Meredith's front door and open my red velvet handbag, searching for the small comb I had packed before I left my apartment.

"Who is it?" I hear Meredith shout from inside.

"Your favorite nurse!" I yell cheerfully. I straighten my dress, it's black with small red roses trailing around the skirt.

A few seconds later, Meredith opens the door and looks me up and down. "Hm, I don't think so..." I scoff and smile, she giggles at her joke and steps aside. "He's figuring out his tie, maybe you should help him. Upstairs bathroom."

I walk in and thank her before making my way up the wooden stairs and to the upstairs bathroom. I knock on the door before entering and swing the door open. "I'm here!"

Alex whirls around from looking at himself in the sink mirror and lets his tie rest on his shoulders. "Jesus Christ, knock much?" He grabs the black fabric from his shoulders and holds it out to me. I leave the bathroom door open a few inches and take the undone tie from his hands.

"Uh, I did knock, Karev. Maybe you're just deaf." I drape the tie around his neck and begin.

"Whatever. Anyway, what time are we heading out of there?"

I pull back, having finished tieing his tie, and gasp, hitting him on the shoulder softly. "We haven't even left for the gala yet and you already wanna leave!"

He chuckles and I smile. Alex turns around to look at himself in the mirror once more. He tries shifting his tie around and I reach my arms over his shoulders to fix it for him.

"Quit it, I wanna do it..."

"It looks fine, Karev, calm down." I scoff and lightly slap his hands away from his tie. "So, you ready to go?" I ask, moving beside him and looking at him through the mirror.

He lifts his chin and turns his head from side to side before nodding and looking back at me through the mirror. "Yeah, let's get this over with, I guess."

———

The valet takes my car keys, tipping his head to Alex and me before rounding the front of the car and sitting in the driver's seat.

Alex and I walk up and gawk at the size of the venue. The building is about 5 stories tall and looks large enough to host a carnival and then some. Freshly-cut bushes line the front walls by the large double doors, and leading up to those doors is a mini red carpet. Two men guard the door, while another waits and is taking the names of who is arriving, he stands at a pedestal holding a pen and clipboard.

While marveling at the sight of spotlights dancing along the outside walls, I feel Alex's hand slip into mine. I take a deep breath, It's just the lights, it's just the lights.

Alex nudges me with his elbow, letting go of my hand, making it seem like an accident. "You ready to go in? You've been staring at the stars for a few minutes."

I don't bother correcting him and just nod, looking down at my feet and smoothening out my dress. Others walk past us, mostly couples my mom's age and younger, business partners, former models, employees. All are in their elegant attire, chatting away and it makes me feel small, insignificant.

Alex hooks my arm into his and I smirk slightly as we walk in together. After passing through the security, Alex and I make our way inside and the scenery is just as bright and fancy what was outside.

Another red carpet is lined up, but it instead leads to a large ice sculpture in the center of the building, with three more on the sides of it. Mini chandeliers hang over a few of the tables with the largest at the end of the hall, hanging over the large stage. Tables that seat 8 are sprawled around the venue, around 50 to 70 of them, covered in white table cloth and fixed with a wine glass, plates, utensils, and napkins.

"Oh, shit. This is a gala." I hear Alex mutter under his breath.

"You bet'cha. Crap, I need to find my mom." I bite the inside of my cheek and stand on my tippy-toes for a bit, looking around the large room as we continue to walk in.

"Look at that sculpture, how is it not melting?" Alex continues to marvel at the many exclusive items inside the vicinity while I scour the room for my mom.

"Y/n! Y/n, darling! Over here, honey!" I could hear my mom's voice from across the building. I spot her past the sculpture and right by the stage.

"Okay, Alex, you're gonna stay quiet and only talk when spoken to. If not, we'll be talking for a while and this gala will never end. You understand?"

"Loud and clear, captain." Alex sneers and I elbow him in the side. He crumbles over for a split second and groans before standing up straight again.

I walk up to my mom and smile, my arm still looped in Alex's.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you made it. And who's this?" My mom asks, eyeing Alex up and down.

"Oh this is Alex, my be–"

"–Boyfriend. Nice to finally meet you, Ms. L/n." Alex smiles shortly and shakes my mom's hand.

Boyfriend?

"Boyfriend? You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend, Y/n?" My mom questions, raising an eyebrow and looking me in the eye.

"Well... I was..." I look from her to Alex and bite my lip. "You see, I was going to, but I've just been so busy, y'know, at the hospital." I exaggerate to try changing the subject. I can feel my face going warm and my hands becoming sweaty.

"Okay, okay. I guess it's valid enough. I'm glad you could make it, we missed you at the last one." My mom pouts and rubs my arm, giving it a squeeze before pulling back. "Well, going to go get a drink. Would either of you like something?"

"No ma'am, but thank you." Alex smiles and shakes his head. My eyes almost widen in shock, but I keep my composure.

"Alright, well, I'll be with Ricky and Delilah by the stage if you guys need me. Have fun you two!" She waves a good-bye and makes her way back to the large stage, weaving her way through small crowds of people.

I wait a few seconds before turning to look up at Alex with wide eyes and my jaw dropped. "Why would you do that? Now she's gonna keep asking me questions about you all night!"

"Don't worry about it, just follow my lead, okay?"

"You're supposed to be following my lead! What happened to 'Loud and clear, captain'?"

Alex shrugs nonchalantly, "I got bored."

"You got- You know what, never mind. We just have to get through the first few hours, and then we can sneak out of here."

———

I stumble with Alex at my side into the unisex bathroom. I pull us both inside and lock the door.

"Alex, what happened to Following. My. Lead?" I pinch the bridge of my nose and look down, my back against the brown door.

"'Your lead' was about to get us busted. You should be thanking me! I just helped convince your mom you aren't a lonely loser who can't get a guy." He smirks and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

The few glasses of wine make me push him back harder than I intended, which makes him hit the restroom sink on his backside. He groans and rubs his side, probably where the sink jabbed him.

"Hey! No need to get violent! It's the truth!" He jokes, moving off the sink and taking steps toward me.

I laugh loudly and he covers my mouth, pushing me up against the door. "Shush! They're gonna think there's a comedy show in here." Alex whispers, slowly removing his hand from my lips, but not his eyes.

I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing and stare into his eyes, though he doesn't stare back into mine. I notice his hands have moved down to my waist and his fingers are slowly tapping at my dress. He looks up to my eyes, then down to my lips and I nod. Alex kisses me harshly, squeezing my waist as I tug at his dress suit.

We can taste the alcohol on each other's lips, but it doesn't stop either of us.

I can only think of how badly I've wanted this. To be able to kiss Alex Karev without the fear of him not wanting me back. Now that it's happening, I'm praying to God to make it last forever.

Alex moves one hand to my neck, the other on the back of my thigh. He lifts me up and holds me steady, my hands are in his hair and my legs are wrapped around his waist.

We continue making out for a few more seconds before I pull back. "What about 'just friends'?"

"Screw 'just friends'." Alex kisses me again, rougher. He takes a few steps and sits me on the bathroom sink, taking off his suit jacket.

We continue making out until we aren't "just friends" anymore.

#grey's anatomy x reader #grey's abc #grey's anatomy #alex karev #alex karev x reader

[halcyon-writings]

favored - ichigo/m!reader

requested: yes (anonymous)

note(s); An attempt on something other than a gender neutral reader, i also deleted the ask on accident so if this isn’t exactly to the prompt anon my apologies!! feel free to send something in my ask box if you want me to like re do it or smth, jealous berry manTM 

a continuation can be found here!

all my other links are in my pinned post for mobile users and linked on my sidebar for desktop users!

if you’d like to support me and my writing, please consider buying me a kofi!

Ichigo Kurosaki is aware of many things. Some more keenly than others. 

He knew that for a long time, the main thing occupying his mind was his duties as the Substitute Shinigami. Rarely time for any leisure out of it unless he was lucky. 

But then you came along. A boy in his grade who’s smile dazzled everyone, even him. It never occurred to him that you’d like him, since it always seemed like you had your own little crowd surrounding you outside of class. 

Popular as you were, admired by your peers and underclassman alike. Favored by and charming everyone you met. 

The meeting had been by chance after all. You had told him that you let your underclassmen leave early, cleaning up from practice before heading home. Only to be attacked by a hollow. 

Laying helplessly on the pavement out as you felt yourself bleeding out. Panic in your eyes but no, not for yourself, for him when he had parried and pushed the hollow back. 

You try to hold him back, but your grip already is faltering, you speak in half sentences.

“Please don’t- that thing- that thing-” You beg, eyes suddenly burning.

The look on his face is determined, as he holds you up, arm around your shoulders and close to his chest. Later he’ll never be able to live it down as Rukia teases him about it, burying his face into one of his pillows while he throws another at her, only for it to pass through the Shinigami anyway. 

“I got you,” He promises, “You’ll be okay.”

Ichigo was equally as panicked when you had lost consciousness. It took a lot for him to leave you as his friends would handle taking care of you, while he fought off the hollow easily enough. Only to return to your bedside as soon as he was done. It was a shallow wound but, the blood just continued to flow, it was a sight he never wanted to see again. 

With disappointment clenching around his heart, Ichigo lets himself believe it’d be the last time the two of you spoke to one another. 

Only for you of course to throw all his expectations out the window. Joining his friend group like you had been there since the beginning. Conversations flowing with ease as you talked and laugh among them. You still had your friends from the team and in general, but Ichigo always felt warm whenever you would join them all on the rooftop during lunch break. 

He pointedly ignores Orihime’s knowing smile, as his face involuntarily flushes whenever he sees you, as he admires you from afar rather than participating in the conversation, the usual broody look, as Keigo put it, on his face.

Then your powers had manifested. 

If Ichigo needed any more reason to like respect you, this only added onto the list. 

It’s Ichigo who introduces you to Urahara, a way to help you get used to the suddenly new developments your powers brought on. Yoruichi helping, but also ruffling Ichigo’s hair when she promised that neither she nor Kisuke would keep his beau for too long.

Ichigo’s face burns as Yoruichi cackles.

Only this time it feels like he’s on fire when the day comes that you confess about how you feel about him, the usual way you hold yourself, confident, ready,is gone, replaced by a boy who can’t meet his eyes without your own expression becoming flustered.

Scratch that, he feels like he’s on fire when you kiss him. Hands grasping his uniform jacket. And when he kisses you back, he feels only warmth.

Ichigo is aware of a few things. The way your personality has anyone gravitating towards you as soon as you meet, and the fact that his heart feels like it’ll burst the second you look at him with the same fond smile that’s especially meant for him and him alone. 

He didn’t mind, after all, your social battery seemed never ending. What he didn’t expect was for the first time you go to the Soul Society, is for many to gravitate towards you, much like in the World of the Living.

Jealousy curls around his heart, a feeling he tries to ignore, but when Rangiku or Renji end up tugging you away each time he brings you with him, or how you and Byakuya have tea sometimes, tea! When you ask whats wrong he gives a half hearted smile, assuring that things are fine. Things are not fine.

It’s the traitorous voice in his head remidning him that you’re much better at him at a lot of thing. You could have had anyone in the world.

“Ichigo?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, your book in your lap as you scribbled away at some assignment he knew he wasn’t in the mood to do anytime soon.

He hums in response.

“You okay? And don’t say you’re fine, I know you aren’t,” You add immediately, and Ichigo’s shoulders slump. Well, he never could actually lie to you in the first place. 

Only for him to end up spilling everything about how he had been feeling about your popularity both in the living world and the Soul Society. How his own doubts made it no less helpful. 

You place your workbook down, carefully folding a corner of the page as you close it so you don’t lose your place. Before beckoning Ichigo over. He rises from the desk chair and plops unceremoniously on the bed, which you can’t help but laugh. He sends you an annoyed look, but it isn’t one with any real heat behind it.

Making a surprised sound as you all but pull him to lay down in your lap, your hand running through his surprisingly soft hair, you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

Ichigo is currently aware of one thing. You may have been favored and vied for by many. But your gaze never left his. Not even for a second. He was at ease.

#bleach imagines #bleach imagine #bleach x reader #ichigo x reader #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki imagine #mine #male reader

[salty-fang]

Twisted fate: Sugar edition

Chapter 2-

Marinette thought she was getting better. She really did. After all, she had adjusted to Gotham’s dark atmosphere and had only cried about losing Adrien twice. Per day. For a month. She was puzzled as to how she had ended up snarfing down Rocky road ice cream whilst bookmarking photos of Adrien. Upon noticing his toothy grin, captivating eyes and playful demeanour, a wan smile fixed itself on her face.

“No. Bad Marinette!” She remembered how quick he dropped her for Gabriel’s wishes and felt the cold, clammy hands of betrayal lace themselves around her throat.

‘Tight. Too. Tight.’ Her chest constricted as she let out a choked gasp. Her hands reached to shut her desktop down. Memories, terrible memories, flashed in her eyes. She had recognised those olive-green eyes. Those eyes clouded by greed, thirst and hunger. Hunger to trample the hopes of any opposition. Hunger to humiliate her. Hunger to seize every last important thing from her.

In a flurry, photos of her and Adrien came raining down. The mirth and adoration in her eyes evaporated, replaced by pain and bloodlust. Her bluebell eyes radiated a frigid coolness as her eyes fell upon the picture of Adrien and her third anniversary. Traitor. Her doe eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a thin line. Anger rolled off of her with each picture she ripped. She had read the attacks, the taunts and jabs at her for being a ‘whore, gold-digger’ and ‘attention seeker’. She had seen Adrien’s unresponsiveness to the situation, leaving her for the hounds to devour. Coward. She’d seen pictures of Adrien and that witch frolicking as she was left to pick up the broken pieces of her heart.

An unquenchable flame raged in her heart. With every memory, the flame burned brighter until the ache for love became unbearable. She hadn’t asked to be broken. She hadn’t asked to not be good enough. She hadn’t asked to lose control of her heart like she did but it still happened.

‘We could never be satisfied,’ she thought. The dull thrum of her heart rang in her ears as silence hung in the air. She knew she was anything special but, damn it, she thought she could be enough.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” Her shoulders shook with the effort of holding onto her sanity. A war waged in her mind as she searched blindly for anything, anything to ground her. She shouldn’t cry. He wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of breaking her. She wouldn’t -. A sound that could only be described as pure grief ripped through her throat, slashing the air. She rocked herself hoping, wishing and praying for his return to her.

She fondly whispered “He’ll come back. He always has, the idiot.” A glint of resignation shone in her eyes before she slept, her back against the wall by the door.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Damian loved Gina. He really did. He loved her composure in the face of danger and her frankly reckless attitude. But if one more person breathed her name, he would throttle them. So, when Todd teased Alfred for his fresh attire for Gina, he silently thanked the heavens for the opportunity to release some energy. He pounced, lunging for Todd’s throat wrapping his hands loosely. Nah, who was he kidding, his hands coiled tightly around his neck.

“Demon spawn, the hell?” Jason managed to choke out. Damian relished the pink hue that had crept up Jason’s face.

“Tim-no. Richard- ack, not you either,” Bruce started, voice hesitant. “Uh Duke?” he tried fumbling about for glasses and his coffee. “Ja-"

“Don’t even think about it old man, it’s Damian, you dolt,” Jason winced as he felt the nails dig into his neck.

"Ah yes, Damian, let go of him this instant. It is Damian, right? Right?" He heard the thud of someone's body hitting the floor.

Damian knew he hadn’t lost his touch. Assassin’s blood would forever run in his blood. His family were moronic buffoons, that he knew. But, if they thought he was turning ‘soft’ then they weren’t doing much to challenge the status quo and prove him wrong. They were simpletons through and through. And though he would never admit it, he loved them for it. As Jason warned him to watch his back, he couldn’t deny the thrill, the rush of adrenaline that ran through his body. Man, he loved this family.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Marinette felt weird. She knew something was wrong. The lingering feeling had teased her subconscious for a while, now. And if the urge to constantly pee, excessive vomiting and constant fatigue was anything to go on... she was pretty certain she had an inkling as to what was happening.

All it took was that test and she had her suspicions confirmed. The two lines that appeared filled her with dread and excitement. Choosing to focus on the latter for now, she squealed, shaking and shimmying the best that she could with her heavy feet. She was PREGNANT.

Crap, she was pregnant. They hadn’t talked about children. They hadn’t talked about raising a child. Their apartment wouldn’t have enough space for all of them. They didn’t have a name. They knew nothing about childbirth. They simply weren’t ready. Worst case scenarios ran through her head. What if she wasn’t a good mom? What if Adrien left her? What if he hated their baby? Or worse, what if she hated her baby?

'Wait... they used p-p-protection. So how?’ The notion cut off her train of thoughts, turning her into a blushing mess. She could feel the heat sear through her cheeks and she could see the contrast of her freckles against her flushed face.

‘Oh no. She couldn’t tell Adrien; she couldn’t burden him like that. Not when he already had so much on his plate. She wouldn’t tell him but maybe she could hint at it. Yes, that would be the ideal course of action.’

Adrien really was the most oblivious human alive. Marinette had forgotten about that factor. Two months later and Adrien still hadn’t gotten a clue. She refused to believe he was that blissfully ignorant. She stroked her developing stomach, contemplating whether she would just tell him or surprise him with a kid. She was opting for the second option as Adrien had looked more stressed than ever, running errands for Gabriel more frequently. God, she hated that man. He constantly critiqued her for ‘not being good enough for his son. After all, she was a Baker’s daughter.’

Marinette could still remember the times when Gabriel had tried to persuade her to leave Adrien without an explanation. He’d threaten her, try to win her over with money; anything to let his son be rid of her. Marinette knew the pain of being left in the lurch. She knew the pain of wondering if it was her fault. She knew the pain of wondering where it went wrong. She wouldn’t do it to him. Not like that.

And then, he’d broken up with her. She had regretted nothing. She’d left him whole. Maybe a little damaged but not scarred. And that was most important to her. She’d regret nothing. It was the least she could do to salvage what was left of her chipped heart.

Marinette had awoken to tender kisses placed on her forehead. Her Nonna looked like a mess. She looked frazzled yet she focused her energy into calming a frantic Marinette.

“Netta, my fairy, I’m,” Marinette whimpered. She could hear the shakiness in her Gigi’s voice. She was a bad luck charm. She always caused pain for everyone. Slowly, she peered up at Gina expecting disappointment to be etched on her face. Yet her face shone with love and her eyes were filled with pity, no, guilt. “I’m so sorry. I broke our pact. I’m no better than them.”

She curled in on herself, head bowed, breaths shallow.

“I’ve hurt you Marinette, I’m a failure.” A short sharp ‘enough’ cut her off. Leaving no room for deliberation, Marinette said

“Nonna, please, if anyone’s a failure, it’s me. I mean who would want a single, unemployed pregnant woman?” Gina sat with wild eyes, jaw slack as she processed what Marinette had just said.

“Hold up, you’re PREGNANT?”

“Have been for the last three months but you know.” She shrugged. She’d processed this already but Gina hadn’t. Gina had switched from pained to bubbly in the span of a few seconds. She screamed before peppering Marinette with questions. Marinette had answered most of her questions and told her killing Agreste- which one she had been referring to was a mystery- was off the table. She’d crush him and make him beg for mercy in her own time. She told her how ‘Adrien hadn’t known’ and by the time they’d finished, it was past midnight. Gina pulled her into a bone-crushing hug before tucking her into bed.

Marinette woke up with a sore back, throbbing headache and bloodshot eyes. She noticed Gina had crashed on the floor beside her sofa. The events of what had occurred last night replayed in her mind. She really fell asleep with his picture beside her for comfort. She’d called his girlfriend a witch. How was she supposed to look him in the eyes after that? She couldn’t even look herself in the eyes. She really wasn’t looking forward to their ‘date’ today. She rose, albeit reluctantly, and stretched. With a steady hand, she applied her mascara onto her lashes. Clad in a baby blue sundress and floppy hat, she set out in a bid to meet Adrien.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Marinette had arrived late but she had not expected this. Adrien and her had been enjoying their date and she had loved her triangle sandwiches. So, when Lila sashayed over, hips swinging , her mood soured and she groaned. Loudly. Apparently, that fuelled Lila's desire as she launched into an awkward kiss, teeth clashing against Adrien’s. Adrien remained motionless as she kissed him once. Twice. He felt her bite down hard on his bottom lip. He felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes. He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He felt her tongue slip into his mouth, demanding satisfaction.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ he wondered. ‘I should be enjoying this. So, why does it feel so wrong?’

He responded on instinct, battling her tongue with his own, with an intensity he had saved for Marinette. When they pulled apart, saliva intertwined and breaths heavy, he noticed the hungry look in Lila's eyes. She seemed to forget Marinette’s presence as she moved to straddle his hips. An over exaggerated cough had Lila leaping from his lap, yelping before her eyes settled on the culprit. Marinette. Lila chose to sit beside Adrien, wrapping an arm around his tense shoulders.

“Still disgustingly fake as ever Lie-la,” she drawled. “No personality but I see you have paid for implants.”

“I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again but I’d be lying. And I don’t lie,” she blinked innocently. “Now scram before things get a little steamy for your virgin eyes.” Her obnoxious voice grated on her nerves. She bit back a comeback as the urge to puke bubbled in her throat. She couldn’t stop herself as she vomited. Heavily. On Lila. At least Adrien had the sense to bound away before he got hit.

Lila was pissed. Marinette had wrecked her outfit with her sick. She couldn’t twist the situation maliciously as anyone with eyes could see Marinette was pregnant. So, in blind rage, she punched Marinette in the face.

“You deserve more, bitch.” Lila spat at Marinette. Lila had intended to punch her in the stomach when she felt a hand wrap around her fist. Marinette had growled at her and she actually felt scared. For the first time in her life, she backed down. She stalked away towards ‘her Adriboo’, who was having a hard time stifling his laughter. She pouted as she realised that her pride bruised.

“That will teach you to mess with me Lila.” Marinette levelled a glare at her before she bolted.

'Run.

Run! Don’t look back!

Just run!'

She didn’t stop until she was safely on her balcony and so, she missed Adrien intervening, Lila screaming and the stranger slinking in the shadows. She just felt so dizzy. Her insides swirled and she slumped against the balcony ledge. The hand she clamped over her mouth made the sensation worse. She threw up and from the sounds of it, she had hit someone.

‘I have to stop puking on people,’ she thought as she heard the cry of indignation from below. ‘Poor sap.’ Slowly, she retreated back into the hotel room to get some rest before she met the people who made her grandma so happy.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Damian was having a horrible day. First, Grayson had chosen him as the latest victim of his matchmaking attempts. Sitting in a cat themed coffee shop, he had listened to an attention seeking gold digger ramble on about herself for an hour and a half. Did she not get tired of her own voice? He knew he had, for certain. He was ready to curse Grayson’s awful choice in people again when something piqued his interest. A harlot was engaged in battle with an angel. And from the look of discomfort on the harpy’s face, the blue-eyed beauty was winning.

He knew he shouldn’t have followed her when she left but he felt a strong pull towards her. He knew she felt sick but he hadn’t expected her to puke on him. Granted, he was hiding and the balcony was pretty low... but still. He screeched in disgust as his suit and hair were covered in what looked like bird shit. It smelt like it too. So yeah, pretty horrible day. At the very least, he could look forward to Gina coming to the mansion later today. She’d cheer him up. He just knew it.

Damian was annoyed. Gina was late. Very late. And he’d been waiting for hours for her to arrive. When was she going to get here? A soft rap on the door sent him flying out of his seat as he scrambled to unlock the door. He’d expected Gina but on their doorstep was that angel from earlier.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Go check out the salt version @loveswifi

Taglist: @lunathealphafemale @sassakitty @krispydefendorpolice @blackmagicforever @nach0ava @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @moonlightstar64 @iloveitwhen @little-angel1031 @screwthisshit111 @rebecarojas07 @animegirlweeb @mystery-5-5 @moonystars14 @gingerdaile @spyofthenightcourt

#marinette dupain cheng #damian x marinette #daminette #damienette #lila rossi #adrien sugar #adrien agreste #lila salt #gina dupain

[mlobsters]

supernatural s6e12 like a virgin (w. adam glass)

i can never watch a stormy scary nighttime flight scene without thinking of the thing on plane wing in the twilight zone movie from 1983. that movie must have been in heavy rotation on tv at some point in my childhood (clip on youtube if you're curious)

(this is why it takes me 2 hours to watch an episode)

CASTIEL Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright.

great, great.

oh, dean. not gonna tell him about being soulless. why do you do this! writers, why must you do this kind of thing over and over and over 😩 please do not drag this out for ages, i'm begging you

BOBBY He's gonna find out, you know. One way or another, someone'll tell him, or he'll figure it out on his own. He's not dumb. He should it hear it from us.

DEAN Can we just leave it alone for the moment, please?

better be a short fucking moment, my guy.

the filming on this car conversation is SO DIFFERENT whoa. it's like they changed how it was filmed, different angles, you can actually see real stuff outside the window, exterior light showing inside the car. what's going on! it's nice, but whoa

DEAN I was with them for a year—Lisa and Ben.

SAM A year?

SAM So then what?

DEAN Didn't work out.

DEAN turns up the music.

MUSIC It was a new day yesterday but it's an old day now

(a new day yesterday, good choice)

every time dean lies to sam "for his own good" i just want to smack him.

PENNY'S SISTER They were just starting to get serious. She didn't want to seem, you know…Not interested. I just wish I'd told her to stay home. We don't even have a body to bury.

not sure what that look was about (wishing sam stayed home [???]->my brain could suggest leaving him at stanford but i mean no escape from their fate). dean giving sam all sorts of meaningful looks in this interview with the sister

man i hate when they have wacky hijinks in the middle of the serious episode. like when becky showed up previously. yucking it up about virgins

the show is so not subtle sometimes, sam's really gonna flex his empathy this episode

(desktop background update, no change) pins in the motel wood paneling? bold.

BOBBY Yeah, yeah. Hey, how's Memento doing over there? He caught you in any lies yet?

DEAN Everything's fine. Sam says hey.

😒

SAM Hey, did we hunt a skinwalker lately?

DEAN Doesn't ring a bell. Why?

SAM I don't know. Just...déjà vu or something. Are you sure? I could have sworn—

DEAN You got to remember, your eggs are still a little scrambled, right? But, yeah, I'm sure.

that deserves several smacks. damnit dean.

the coloring is very unfortunately orange again in a lot of these scenes :( and i don't even know what to say about bobby's ex. weird styling choices. not great lines. mmrgh

preemptively cringing at this sword in the stone bit. god it went on for SO LONG.

SAM Um...Look, I-I would hug you, but—

CASTIEL —that would be awkward.

was that really necessary?

welp, no surprise cas spills the beans. thank goodness. but also DAMNIT DEAN.

huh, so i really expected sam to get mad at dean for lying to him but i guess he's too swamped by guilt over what he feels like he did.

thought this was nell from hill house for a second. so i guess this must be eve. don't know much about her from fic lol

DEAN Cas. Friggin' child.

--

DEAN Sam, Death didn't just shove your soul back in, okay? He put up the great wall of Sam between you and the things that you don't remember. And trust me when I say that the things you don't know could kill you. That's not a joke.

SAM All right. But I have to set things right. Or what I can, anyway.

DEAN It wasn't you.

SAM You know, I kind of feel like I got slipped the worst mickey of all time...and I woke up to find out that I had burnt the whole city down. And you can say it wasn't me, but...I'm the one with the zippo in my pocket, you know? So I'm not sure it's that cut and dry. And, look, I a-appreciate you trying to protect me. I really do. But I got to fix... What I got to fix. So I need to know what I did.

DEAN But you don't know how dangerous that could be.

SAM What would you do? Right. Same thing.

DEAN Sam...

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 6x12 #robosam no more #spn desktop background update #twilight zone the movie #now i kinda wanna rewatch bly manor and haunting of hill house thinkin about victoria pedretti #adam glass

[honeypwark]

[ Studio Intruder ]

  ↳ Crown era

       ↳ Kiryoung gets caught by a label mate. He offers his help. He becomes very fond of her.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Some nights, when Yoongi is working late, coffee is the only thing that sustains him. It’s not like he even needs to be here this late; they just released an album and are in the midst of promotions. He actually probably shouldn’t be here because they have a music show in two days. But sometimes it’s impossible to go home when you’re working on something, tunnel visioned on completing your idea before it escapes you.

That’s why Yoongi is in one of the company building break rooms at two in the morning getting his second cup of coffee that night. He puts the lid back on then leaves to head back to his studio. As he turns to do so, he sees a small figure farther down the hallway, hood up, head down, and walking quickly.

His immediate thought is that she might be a fan who’s broken into the building. Somewhat against his better judgement, he begins to follow her. She doesn’t go much farther and Yoongi stays hidden behind the corner when he notices she’s stopped in front of a studio door.

When he checks again, he sees she’s unlocking the door and stepping inside. He walks over to the studio she entered. “Adorable Trap” is displayed on the door of Adora’s studio, but the girl who entered is too short to be the studio’s owner.

Yoongi knocks on the door.

He gets no response. He enters slowly, looking around for the girl he’d followed here.

“Hello?”

He steps fully into the studio but finds no trace of the girl. He knows this is the studio she entered because the door was unlocked, but where could she have gone? It’s not an enormous room by any means, so unless the small girl had shoved herself under the desk-

Yoongi looks at the desk.

He walks over to it slowly and takes hold of the desk chair. Once he’s pulled it out of the way, he can see the girl is curled up under the desk with her backpack hugged to her chest, aggressively avoiding looking at him.

“Stand up.”

She does, crawling out from under the desk to stand in front of him with her head hanging.

“What are you doing in here?”

Her voice is so quiet her can hardly hear her, “They won’t let me schedule studio time so Soohyun unnie lets me use her studio.”

Yoongi doesn’t understand anything about what she just said, “What?”

The girls reaches up and tugs her hood off.

“The company won’t let me use a studio so Adora lets me use her studio without them knowing.”

Yoongi blinks, somehow more confused now that he realizes the person in front of him isn’t some random girl or crazy fan, but his fairly recently debuted junior, Kiryoung of TXT.

“The company won’t let you use a studio?” he summarizes.

Kiryoung ducks her head and speaks like she’s ashamed of the answer, “They said that it wouldn’t fit with the image they want me to have.”

Yoongi feels disproportionately angered by that.

Kiryoung suddenly looks up at him with fear in her eyes, “You’re not going to tell anyone, right? I’ve already been scolded when I tried to help with recording the English version of ‘Cat & Dog.’”

“That’s so stupid,” Yoongi says.

“Please don’t tell anyone!” Kiryoung begs as tears gather in her eyes, “I don’t want to get in trouble!”

As Yoongi has been getting angry at the company for not letting one of their artists’ pursue their interest in music production, Kiryoung has been getting more distressed at being found out. Yoongi realizes that without a promise that he won’t tell anyone about her and Adora’s arrangement, Kiryoung is ready to start crying.

“Hey, no, I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s alright,” Yoongi assures her. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she says pitifully, using her hoodie sleeves to dry her eyes.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi tells her, “You’re fine.”

He reaches out to hold her arm and attempt to comfort her but stops. They’re not close by any means; the only interaction they’ve had is when their groups have been together. He puts his hand back at his side.

For only being a girl he’s said probably a total of five words to prior to tonight, Yoongi’s emotions seem to be all over the place. First he was angry at the company for telling her she can’t make music and then he was sincerely worried about making sure she didn’t cry.

Kiryoung sniffs, “I should probably go home.”

“Aren’t you going to work on something?” Yoongi asks.

“I... feel awkward now.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m literally always awkward,” Kiryoung admits.

Yoongi chuckles.

Kiryoung winces as she realizes what she said, “That makes me sound so lame. I’m sorry. I should go.”

“Hey, wait.”

Yoongi steps with her towards the door.

“If the company won’t let you pursue producing, then I can help you.”

“...what?”

“I can help you with producing. You can play me some tracks and I can give you some pointers.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Only if you want to, though.”

“Yes!” she says too quick and too loud.

She shrinks back in embarrassment. Yoongi chuckles again, growing more fond for Kiryoung and her awkwardly shy personality the longer he’s in her company.

“Okay. We can work in my studio.”

“Okay,” Kiryoung agrees happily.

Kiryoung follows Yoongi out of Adorable Trap, locking the door behind her then walking with him to his own studio. He pushes the door open and steps inside. Kiryoung hesitates over the threshold.

“You can come in,” Yoongi says as he notices her hesitation.

“I, um... Are you going to get in trouble? For helping me? I don’t want you to face repercussions from the company...”

Yoongi laughs at her concerns, “What are they gonna do? Fire me? I’m not Jin hyung when it comes to disobeying the company, but I think I’ll be okay if they find out. Now come sit down.”

Kiryoung walks into the studio and shuts the door behind her, taking her backpack off her back as she sits on the stool Yoongi pulled out for her.

“And if they give you any more ‘you shouldn’t produce because it doesn’t fit our image for you’ crap, come to me and I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi says. “Open your laptop.”

She does as he asks, logging in then handing the device to him when he hold his hand out for it. He begins hooking it up to his desktop computer. He opens up his preferred production and editing program, saving what he was working on then exiting out to make a new document.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Kiryoung asks softly as he does this, her curiosity winning out against her shyness.

Yoongi glances at her briefly then continues opening files on Kiryoung’s laptop to bring to his computer.

“I guess I kind of see myself in you.”

Hearing those words from the member of BTS Kiryoung admires the most? Euphoric.

“You do?”

“Yeah. They wanted me to be the grumpy grandpa member for so long but that’s not really who I am. I’m not bright and sunshine-y either, but I’m not a scary person, despite people always perceiving me that way.”

“I don’t think you’re scary.”

“You almost started crying when I found you earlier.”

“That’s because I thought you were going to tell the company you found me!”

“I’m a lot of things, but a snitch isn’t one of them. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Kiryoung looks at Yoongi gratefully, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He points to his screen, “Which track do you want to work on?”

“Um, that one.”

“‘Crystalline Teardrops Flow Like a River of Grief’?” He glances beside him at Kiryoung, “You’re a little poet, aren’t you?”

“I convey words better in lyrics than I do in speaking.”

Yoongi smiles fondly at Kiryoung when she says that, the girl bashfully refusing to look at him after she does. He double clicks on that file and opens it in the producing software he has open.

“Anyway, about the company’s image thing, don’t let them control who you are. It’s hard enough being an idol already, don’t let them make you play a character as well. Don’t let anyone control who you are.”

Kiryoung looks at Yoongi with so much respect that he is the one to look away.

He plays it off and swiftly changes subjects, “Let’s listen to what you have, shall we?”

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt 6th member #txt sixth member #sixth member of txt #kpop #kpop au #txt fluff #kpop female addition #female kpop additions #kpop female oc #female kpop member #kpop female member #kpop addition #kpop oc #koc #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #min yoongi #suga #yoongi #min suga #min yoongi fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #txt fanfic

[cakejots]

cataclysmic creations

What happens when Marinette gets overly attached to a gift from him but also not really from him? Chaos.

Rating: T, Words: 2482, Chapters: 1/1

Read on AO3

“I suppose this should do, Plagg.” Adrien held up his handiwork with sore arms, beaming with pride. But anyone looking at him would think that he’s in pain.

“That’s not a very exquisite design, is it?” Plagg snickered.

“Shut it. Her birthday’s tomorrow and I just don’t have the skills for it, alright? Guidance from videos can only go so far.” He cringed at the unevenness of the fabric, some sections were woven tighter than others, and some looser. The number of tiny holes that peep at him from the looser areas was just embarrassing. Adrien deflated a little bit and lowered his arms slightly. “I just hope she likes it.”

Plagg went behind the textile and shoved his tiny butt through one of the bigger holes just to spike him. Adrien growled and tried to kick his Kwami but Plagg was already on his way to the computer table. “Though I have to say, these look so much better!”

Adrien was relieved that at the very least, the red paper roses he crafted were met with approval. He didn’t want to think about the number of failed attempts it took to get to where he was now, and the amount of time spent watching videos on it. He’s just glad that they looked real enough to fool people at first glance.

“Still, why stop at two roses when you could’ve gone for a bouquet? You think this is gonna compare with that?”

“I don’t have time, Plagg.”

“Then why not just buy one?”

“Marinette’s not one for physical items, but I feel she’ll appreciate it even more if she knew time and effort were spent on them.”

Ashamed as he might be about the quality of his creations, Adrien was glad that he could spoil her with gifts. But she doesn’t need to know about that.

Marinette had told him not to sweat about giving her anything for her birthday as his company with her is a gift itself. But knowing her, she was probably afraid that doing so would risk his identity. So being the good boyfriend that he is, he would go against her wishes (or not) and surprise her with what he has been known to give: roses, but with a twist.

He’d present her with not just one, but two roses to show his love and affection for her. Not that he needs to do that to convey his feelings, both are aware of where they stand in their relationship. But he’s a romantic at heart, can’t blame him for wanting to do more.

Marinette deserves the constant reminder of how special she is to him after all. And with the twist being that the roses were handcrafted, to proclaim his undying love for her.

And of course, Adrien being Adrien, that alone wasn’t enough. Oh no no no. See, Adrien is Chat Noir and Chat Noir being Marinette’s boyfriend meant that he would give her birthday presents regardless of her wishes. The only restriction he had was that he can’t be original in his gifts.

But Adrien didn’t have that restriction. And since Adrien wasn’t Chat Noir, at least to everyone else, he was free to be as creative as he can be with presents. So he had decided to crochet a blanket for her as Adrien’s birthday gift to Marinette.

Why a blanket? Well, he wanted Marinette to have something that reminds her of him, and what better way to do that than to have her see and feel his gift the first and last thing of the day? Call him cringy, clingy, or whatever, he doesn’t care. This is their relationship, not anyone else’s. Sue him.

The crocheted cloth was just a simple blanket with nothing but a uniform colour of blue. It wasn’t the prettiest, but he wanted her to hold onto a piece of him, even if she doesn’t know it.

And luckily for him, Marinette loved both gifts, a lot. But since the blanket was more practical than the decorative roses, she had spent more time with it.

He just didn’t expect her to hold onto it all the time.

The first couple of times he visited her, he was overjoyed that she had taken special care of his gifts. The paper roses were placed in an elegant glass vase right next to her desktop, and he always caught her staring at them with a lovesick smile whenever she was waiting for his arrival. With the blanket draped over her shoulders of course.

And the blanket, oh gosh the blanket! Despite his belief that it belonged to recycling bins, she had refused to leave that disaster of a blanket alone. The slightly smaller blanket size had enabled her to always carry it around wherever she went within the room. That sight itself had warmth bursting forth within his chest.

Yes, she loves it that much.

Their time spent together stayed the same, with the addition of the blanket wrapped around herself. Or if it’s too hot, she’d fold it into a bolster and hug it. Or if they were relaxing on the floor, she would lie on top of them. And whenever he visited without her knowledge, he’d see her resting her head on top of a blue pillow while reading fashion magazines. Sometimes, he would even spot his alter-ego in them. It was endearing to see her attachment to his cataclysmic creation.

As the cooler months approached, that meant endless cuddles with Marinette for Chat Noir. Well, nothing wrong with expecting more cuddles from her, right? They had their occasional cuddles during the warmer months. And his Lady had always cuddled with him during cooler months, so it was safe to assume Marinette would do the same.

Right?

But that wasn’t what happened.

Oh no.

That was not what happened at all.

She had cuddled with her blanket far more than she did with him. It was to the point that he received way fewer cuddles from her than he did during the warmer months.

Was it because of the materials he had used for the fabric? It traps heat much better than he can provide, of course she wasn’t going to cuddle with him. What if he pushes her away during their sleep together? Is that why she would prefer being enveloped by the blanket? It’ll never push her away like he did. Or maybe blankets are better and softer to hold onto than his body. Whatever it was, he just knew that this can’t continue.

“You don’t want to cuddle with me anymore?” Kitten eyes fixated themselves on hers, begging for her attention.

Her eyebrow twitched. “Chat no, that’s never the case! It’s just… This gift’s really precious to me.” Does she need anyone else to validate her feelings? Probably not. It was a gift from Adrien, the first person she had ever given her heart to. Even though she had agreed to move on, it still held sentimental value to her regardless.

Chat eyed her and pouted. From the sound of it, Marinette seemed to know that she’s cuddling with that blanket more than with him, and he didn’t know if he should be happy or mad about it. One thing’s for sure though, he was definitely not jealous. Nope, not jealous at all. Jealousy? Don’t know her.

“We can still cuddle! Come here, you big kitty!” She enticed with open arms, and the blanket tossed away from her. Chat lit up and he plopped himself into her arms, pleased that she was now cuddling with him instead of that blanket. The warmth that was now present allured him to sleep with his arms around her waist.

Early next morning, Chat awoke to the constant shaking of his body. The heat source he had from last night was gone. He looked to his side and right there in plain sight, Marinette was snuggling with that unsightly thing. She even had that wrapped around herself and not the two of them.

That audacity.

Chat wasn’t amused at all. Nothing about this was endearing nor adorable anymore. Not when her attention was on that thing and not him.

Plagg was also being an unhelpful ball of chaos when Adrien opened up his heart to him, voicing his genuine concerns and asking for help over the issue regarding his girlfriend’s overt attachment to that thing.

“You brought this upon yourself,” he sneered.

He was actually enjoying his misery.

Little shit.

“You love that blanket more than me.”

It wasn’t even a question like before. It was a god damn statement, just straight up facts about how he felt. This was getting ridiculous. He was jealous, there he admitted it, of the gift he made for her. A gift that technically has his essence. A gift from him. A gift from Adrien-him. He was jealous of himself. An inanimate object from him to be specific. What even?

“That’s not true.”

How dare she deny it.

“Then leave that thing alone and come lie on me while you work on your sketches, like always.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

Marinette couldn't do that. She was currently lying on top of her folded blanket with her upper body elevated from the floor, doodling. It was way too comfortable to move.

“Make me.”

Chat stood so abruptly that Marinette jumped at the movement, and suddenly she was rolling away from her blanket pile. She quickly snatched the other end of the blanket before Chat could do whatever the hell he wanted to do with her blanket.

A tug of war ensued.

“Chat, stop! You’ll rip it apart! Just let go!” Marinette yelled as his claws started digging into her precious fabric.

“No, I had enough. You let go! Come and cuddle with me again!” He demanded.

Chat didn’t know what was going on. Marinette has yet to topple over despite this being an unfair tug of war, hero versus civilian. He should be ashamed of himself for allowing this to happen, but he’s not. He needed to get rid of that piece of junk ASAP.

He could always kiss her injuries goodbye later.

Marinette really had no intentions of letting up anytime soon, that was clear from her face, grip, and stance. Chat decided that Adrien would stop giving her birthday gifts if they were to hold more value to her than he does.

The thought itself led him to unconsciously dig his claws further, creating hideous holes on the already-ugly blanket. He was ripping his own creation. His own blood, sweat, and tears, and honestly, he should stop. But he doesn’t.

“I’ll cuddle with you! Just please let go!”

Normally, Marinette’s pleading was enough for him to give in, but not this time. He wasn’t going to budge. “No! That thing stays away this time, it has already taken up the privileges it doesn't even have in the first place for far too long!”

“Chaaaaaaat!”

“Marineeeeeeette!”

And they both landed on their butts.

Marinette gazed at what remained in her hands and started bawling.

Chat didn’t think they’ll be able to rip it apart, he was expecting her to give up and let go just how strong is she?. Now he felt bad, but before he could walk over to her, she tackled him, arms tightening around his waist.

She was hugging him and crying and not even hitting him or scolding him and he has no idea what’s happening anymore.

“Princess, I’m sorry, please stop crying.”

“No.” He winced. “I’m sorry, Chat. If I had just let go and cuddled with you, this wouldn’t have happened.” Marinette held him tighter and wept.

“No, Marinette... Please, I’m so sorry, I can fix this. Just please stop crying,” he begged.

“How, Chat? You’re not even Adrien,” she wept.

Chat was silent while running his fingers through her hair to soothe her.

“I can,” and he muttered his de-transformation phrase.

Marinette closed her eyes from the sudden brightness and she was gaping at Adrien now. It didn’t register to her that he had de-transformed until then.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I can, so don’t worry about it anymore. I’m so sorry for revealing who I am. I just— I don’t know what else to do and I hate it when you cry.” He sneaked a peek at her.

Marinette’s wailing had stopped and she was just looking at him with those wide sapphire orbs. Emotions ran through them and he’s not sure if he picked them all up.

“Please say something.”

After a few beats, “Adrien.”

“Hi.”

“Where did Chat Noir go?”

Did— did she really just ask that question?

He just de-transformed in front of her! Did she not see that?

“I’m Chat Noir!”

“And I’m Ladybug.”

“Wait, wha—”

In a pink flash, Ladybug was lying on his lap, arms circled lazily around his waist.

His eyes widened. “M-My lady?”

“Hey, Chaton,” she smiled.

“Oh my god! Why did you reveal yourself?” Disbelief splashed across his face.

“Why did you reveal yourself?” She threw the question right back at him.

He grabbed her face, shaking it by the beat of his words. “I didn’t know what to do!”

“And, I was trying to salvage the situation! But seeing how chaotic it has gotten, Plagg would be so proud.”

A burst of hysterical laughter could be heard by Adrien’s side, and that chaotic black hole came into view. “You bet I am, Pigtails.”

Adrien looked like he’s losing his mind. “You just revealed you’re Ladybug! How do you salvage that?”

“Chaton, you don’t get it, do you?”

Her head was still in his hands, and he shook her head again, his urgency visible through his actions. “No! Of course I don’t! How?”

“You like both Ladybug and Marinette, don’t you?”

“What? I love both Ladybug and Marinette, thank you very much.” Then it suddenly hit him. He just admitted that he was still in love with Ladybug and should get slapped for two-timing. But more importantly, the two people that have been wreaking havoc in his heart, albeit unknowingly, were both the same person. In his lap.

“Oh.”

Adrien’s eyes bulged out. “Oh my god!”

“There you go,” she smirked. “Couldn’t deprive you of that feeling.”

He didn’t really know if this feeling was one he welcomed now. To be outed as a cheater, but also not really one. This was too much to wrap his head around. How did she get over it so fast?

“You better fix that blanket!” She removed herself from his hands and pushed her face into his stomach. Ladybug embraced him tighter, finally glad that she didn't have to strain her neck any longer.

“Of course, my lady. And you better start cuddling with me again,” he ran his hands through her hair once again.

“Of course, mon Chaton,” she laughed. “I’ll cuddle with both of you.”

“No!”

#marichat #mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #crack #cataclysmic creations

[trojc-rewrite]

The Rise of Jimmy Casket, Chapter 3

——————————————

Toast awoke to the sun blaring in his eyes and pain. Everything hurt, his throat, his leg, his back. He frowned as he shifted upwards. More hot pain flared through his leg, scorching up his side. He let out a small cry, immediately recoiling and lying back down. He groaned, rubbing his head.

Spooker shifted beside him, blinking tiredly. Toast had never seen him so tired before, his eyes were droopy and his hair was a mess. His beanie had sticks and leaves stuck in it, dirt and soot were smeared across his cheek.

“You look well rested.” Spooker said in a happy tone. Toast mustered up a smile.

“Yeah, hardly.” He said, trying to lean up again. More pain seared through him. He toughed it out, ignoring his body’s begging to tell him to sit. He needed to get up. He wasn’t going to let himself give up on why he came out here.

Toast weakly got up, trying to not put too much wait on his bad leg. Spooker helped him up. Colon was already up, examining the damage from the fire.

The wood was blackened and burned, just the tiniest bit warm still. Cracks and splinters scored the planks, letting Toast see inside of them. Something that stood out to him was the rippling green that stained the inside of some of the cracks. It wasn’t grass, it was a weird lime green, faint but still there. ‘What on earth?’

He reached down and picked up a small burned chunk, it stained his hand with ash. He examined the green some more. ‘What could this even be?’

Colon wandered over to him, looking curious. “How are you feeling, Toast?” He asked, glancing at the red cloth around his wound. Toast shrugged.

“Still alive, yeah?” He said. Toast showed Colon the blackened wood. “Hey, do you know what this could be?”

Colon took the piece gently, studying the green that emitted from the cracks. He shook his head, placing the piece back in Toast’s palm. “No idea, my best guess is that it could be something the firemen put on the fire last night.”

Toast nodded, stuffing the wood in one of his back pockets. “Well, we should keep going. The nearest town isn’t tha’ far away.”

Spooker stared at him like he had just suggested a crime, “Are you crazy dude? You can hardly stand! How are you gonna walk?”. He held out his arms in exasperation.

Toast shrugged, looking towards the North. “We’ll get there.” Spooker and Colon shared a look, but they didn’t need to say anything for Toast to figure out what they meant. “I know he’s out there. Trust me.”

Colon sighed, worried. “But what if he’s not, Toast? What if you get even more hurt or worse, and we’re just chasing something because you have a hunch! Toast; we’re worried. We know you miss Ghost, we do to-.”

Toast looked at him, “Just trust me. I know Ghost better than anyone here, just trust me.”

Spooker blinked, not saying any input. Colon gave him an unreadable look. “Fine, but if you get hurt again we’re leaving.”

Toast bit back a sigh. “Okay; then let's go.”

————————————————————————

They reached the town a little after noon, and the first thing Toast did was go to the library. The library was small, a line of old desktop computers filled a wall. Books of all volumes and colors sat in bookshelves that looked dusty. An older woman sat at a round desk in the middle of the room, flipping through a thick chapter book.

Toast limped up to her, Colon helping him while Spooker looked at a book shelf labeled “Romance”. She squinted up at him, fixing her glasses.

“Hello, how may I help you?” She asked, a small smile gracing her face. Toast returned it.

“Hello, I have a peculiar question. Would you happen to have any newspaper records on a man named Jimmy Casket?” He asked, feeling awkward. The lady blinked at him, a little confused.

“It’s for a school project for our little brother.” Colon said, trying to ease the tension off of Toast.

The librarian nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, we have a few I believe. You’ll have more luck in the towns a few miles over, dearies. But, I’ll go get the few that we have.”

She got up from her desk, and entered a room in the back of the library. Toast turned to Colon and nodded, “When did you pick up being that creative?” He asked. Colon shrugged.

“It’s probably the one thing Ghost taught me, to be able to lie on the spot.” He smiled playfully. Toast returned it solemnly.

A few moments later, the librarian returned with three newspapers, yellowed and crumpled a bit at the edges. “Here you are. I’m afraid it’s all we have.” She said, handing Colon the three newspapers. The two shared a look before Toast thanked her.

The two settled down on a table, opening the first newspaper. The title leaped at them in bold font, “Murderer struck down in South Carolina.”

Toast read quietly to himself and Colon. “ Yesterday, at 9:01 PM, a famous murderer in a small town in South Carolina, nicknamed “Casket”, was killed by police during one of his rampages. Witnesses say it was a horrifying experience. The man was no older than 18, and his step-mother, who preferred to stay anonymous, has told reporters that she ‘has no idea how he turned out this way.’

“ He was such a loving and kind child, accepting me right away as his father’s wife. When his father died, he took it upon himself to be the best figure possible for his family. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Police are still looking into possible victims of this man's heinous crimes. The towns folk are sending their regards to the families of his confirmed victims.”

Toast took a breath, finishing the paragraph. Colon blinked.

“Wait wait wait, who is this Jimmy Casket guy? How does this have anything to do with Ghost?” Colon asked, flicking the page of the newspaper. Toast traced a circle in the table.

“Let’s say I’ve met him in a few of my missions with Ghost.” Toast worded carefully.

The two finished reading the other articles and handed them back to the librarian. “You three boys have a nice night.” She said with a smile.

“You too ma’am.” Toast responded politely. Spooker was by the entrance of the library, reading Twilight on a bench. “C’mon Spooker put the book back, it’s time to go.”

Spooker frowned, sadly putting the book on a “put back” cart. He followed his co workers outside, it was night now. The moon shined down on the town, yellow lights dancing on the gravel ground.

“Well, we keep moving.” Toast said. Colon and Spooker groaned.

The three made it to the edge of town, making it out of a large pine forest. A river lay ahead of them, deep and murky. It was quiet and slow moving, but you could tell it was deep.

Spooker pointed to a bridge, “Let’s cross there.” He said. Colon and Spooker helped Toast to the stone and wood crossing. The wood was wet and rotten in spots, and it groaned as Toast stepped on it.

“Let me go first,” Toast volunteered. Spooker and Colon shook their heads at him, but Toast ignored them. He limped across the wailing wood, yelling under his weight.

As he got closer to the middle, a figure stepped out of the darkness. Long legs stepped lightly on the cedar, tapping away at the weak wood. Toast stared in confusion, trying to figure out who the person was.

His brother's face gleaned from the shadows, stepping out into the moonlight. Toast's eyes widened, blinking in shock.

“Gavin? What are you doing here?!” His brother's gray-green eyes glared at him.

“Sorry Johnny Boy, but I’m gonna have to stop ya righ’ ‘ere. Or else my frien’ might not be the happies’ with me.” Gavin apologized. Johnny could tell that his brothers apology wasn’t sincere in the slightest. In fact, it sounded more taunting than anything.

“What do you mean? Gavin, please what do you mean?” His brother stepped forward.

And then with incredible speed, green-orange fire erupted from his hand. Toast dodged out of the way, knocking into the railing. The bridge under him groaned in agony. Gavin’s hot flames flicked his face, burning his cheek

“Do ya like my tricks?! Pays when ya work with ghosts.” Gavin laughed. More flames shot from his palms, hitting Toast's feet. Toast tried to get away, but the movement was too much for the bridge.

His foot went through the rotten wood, and he grappled onto the jagged stone, barely saving himself from falling into the river. ‘I won't be able to swim. I'm too weak.’

Spooker and Colon cried out, “Toast!”. Colon stepped forward to charge at Gavin, but Spooker held him back.

Toast looked back up at his brother, begging for his remorse. “Please Gavin, I’m your brother!” He begged. His fingers hurt from grappling the wood, rotten splinters digging into his palms.

Gavin chuckled, “Yeah, but then ya got all lame n’ sappy with Mary n’ Ghost. You ain’t the same anymore. And Ghost is borin’ too now. Trust me, what we’re workin’ on, it’s for the good o’ both o’ ya’.”

Johnny glared at him, “Who’s we?” He asked curtly. Gavin growled at him.

“See ya’.” Gavin returned his brother's angry tone. He raised his leg to kick him. Toast grabbed his brother by the leg and yanked him down with him, letting go of the bridge. His brother yelled angrily.

“TOAST!” Spooker screamed in horror, racing to the edge of the bridge. Toasts world went deaf as he hit the water, slowing under it. His brother disappeared with a flash of green, leaving him alone to drown.

Toast tried to swim and kick his legs, but he just hurt too much. Everything hurt, he felt so heavy. Maybe he wouldn’t see Ghost, maybe he wouldn't hold up his promise to Mary.

‘Oh Mary, I’m so sorry.’ He rubbed his wedding ring necklace. He closed his eyes, sinking.

Then, something grabbed him by the torso. Gray and blue flashed hazily in his darkened vision. He kicked weakley, trying to help whoever had grabbed him.

He and his rescuer broke to the surface, and he gasped for air. Cold water trickled down his face, clogging up his senses. The world became hearable again.

His rescuer slapped him down onto the grass, and he could hear Colon and Spooker running across the bridge, ignoring the bridge's pleas.

“Didn’t your rich mother ever take you to swimming lessons?” A tired, sarcastic voice asked.

Toasts heart leaped in his chest, and he opened his eyes.

There, infront of him, was Ghost.

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