#but yeah the first half of the master post is all stuff leading up to hisui and the second half is all PLA

[oceandiagonale]

So I love Generic with my whole-ass heart and soul. However, there's still a lot I wanna read of the bean and I gotta scroll down a lot of beautiful comics. When will you update the masterpost for Generic, or is there another one in the works?

OH thank you!!! 😳😳😳

I have the PLA run all caught up on the second half of the masterpost which is my pinned post!!

unfortunately I haven't like... made any masterposts for oc sunday or anything with short comics from there, or any of my early guzma content 🥲🥲🥲

#oceandi answers #miki-13 #I need to get better about tagging little doodles and oc sunday drawings as 'oceandi arts' but I get embarrassed about that when it's not #like its own post dskgfskdhf #but yeah the first half of the master post is all stuff leading up to hisui and the second half is all PLA #I didn't expect PLA to get so long so if I do paldea I'll have to split it again I think 😔😔😔 #it's also not the most clear masterpost but everything is separated by commas and I've tried to make each link long enough to click easily!

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 7

All right! Here's part 7. I hope you enjoy. I don't think I really have any opening notes to go over this time, so I'll just leave it there. Check out the ask game I posted yesterday if you're interested.

This week you get a bit more than usual at 1.6k words.

First, Previous

----------

“What was that you meant about me being Jazz’s second dead boyfriend?”

Over his surprised laughter, he heard Jazz’s groan from across the hall. Yeah, he really did like Jason more than Johnny.

“One of my former rogues, Johnny 13, pretended to be human and started dating Jazz for a period. He was trying to mold her body into a vessel for his equally dead girlfriend Kitty. He had a similar bad-boy vibe to you but was actually awful. We might be cool now, but I’m still pissed he did that.”

Jason blinked at him before a slow grin took over his face. “So Jazz has a history of bad choices, does she? She always acts like she’s always had it together.”

“Oh definitely not. No child raised by our parents could have it always together.”

“Jazz refuses to talk about your parents, will you tell me what they did?”

Before Danny could answer, Jazz shouted his name. “Danny! If you’re done apologizing to Jason, start helping me explain!”

Danny rolled his eyes to Jason. “Later, I suppose. Duty calls! Come on, you’ve got to have a lot of questions, dead boyfriend number two, and yours will get priority answers.”

Jason’s surprised laugh made him grin despite the deepening glares of the other Waynes.

Surprisingly, it was Duke who blurted out a question in a high, freaked-out voice first. “Why do you have a crown?”

Danny, who’d turned and took all of one step in the direction of the dining hall, paused and turned back around. “How can you see that?” And then he realized the ground was still littered with broken glass and ceramics. “Never mind. Later. Let me clean up the broken glass and stuff first. Least I can do.”

Bruce’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder. “No. You will answer our questions now.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no. Look, the short of it is that I died when I was fourteen because I was stupid. It didn’t take and now I’m only half dead. I have a ghost form and a human form and all the standard ghost powers. The main ones being invisibility”—he turned invisible for a moment—“intangibility”—Bruce’s hand fell through his shoulder—“and gravity manipulation.” He raised in the air until he was floating a foot above the floor. “I also have some more unique powers, such as ice.” With a wave of his hand, ice grew around the shards of glass.

Alfred and Duke quickly backed away from the mess, but once every piece of broken china was encased, the ice stopped growing.

“So, if you’ll just tell me where I can dispose of the shards, I’ll be happy to do it. And this way no one has to be at risk of hurting themselves cleaning broken glass. Plus I got up all the fine powder, too. No little bits that can barely be seen but will fuck up your vacuum cleaner.”

“A handy skill,” said Alfred before anyone else could speak. “I will lead you to the bins.” To the rest of the group, he said, “Jason, would you and Duke collect the desserts from the kitchen and set up the dining room? As it appears we are all allies here, there is no reason to have this conversation standing in a hallway when we could have it sitting down with good food.”

“Alfred—” started Bruce.

Only to be cut off by the butler. “Master Bruce, I will be quite safe with the young man, I am sure of it. Jason’s… ghost has explained a few things already.” Only the slight pause before the word ghost betrayed that the man wasn’t entirely at ease.

Tim stepped forward. “Let me come with you both, Alfred?”

With a put upon sigh, the man agreed. “Very well, Master Tim, if you must. Mr. Danny, please follow me.”

“Yes, sir.” Danny followed obediently, the ice floating along behind him with barely a thought.

“You don’t need to make any sort of gesture to control the ice?” asked Tim.

Danny shook his head. “Nah. It’s my ice. It’ll do what I want it to. Most ghost powers are based on thought and emotion, honestly.” They took another turn. His castle didn’t even have this many hallways.

“So when you said the ghosts in Amity, you meant that literally.” Tim acted like it was a revelation.

“Of course I did. Shortly after my accident, ghosts started attacking on a regular basis. Took years for me to get things under control and by that point I’d already failed out of high school.”

“But if it was so hard… why didn’t you call the Justice League?”

Danny threw back his head and gave a hysterical laugh. “And then have to fight an overshadowed Superman? Or, worse yet, speedster? No. No thank you. Never. A representative of Justice League Dark stopped by about six or eight months after I got my powers and I told him to keep everyone out of my haunt. He gave me a phone number in case I came across something I couldn’t handle. But I kept being able to handle it, so I never used the number.”

“Overshadowed?” asked Alfred, “I do not believe we know that term. Ah, here we are.” He opened a door that led outside to a drive where a collection of garbage bins sat. “That container there”—he pointed—“is for glass recycling. Will the ice leave the bin filled with water?”

“Not at all. It’ll be completely gone.” Danny had the ice hover over the bin and made it disappear slowly enough that the shards were released without any falling outside the container. No water remained to show how he had transported them.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Danny. Now, overshadowing?” he asked as he held the door open for the boys to precede him inside.

“Oh, um. It’s like possession. Ghosts can take over a living being’s body. But when we do, we don’t have access to memories or knowledge or anything. And after the ghost leaves, the human just doesn’t remember anything from the time they were overshadowed.”

“And is this another of those basic ghost powers you have?” Tim’s voice was hard.

“Yes,” Danny answered simply. “It feels gross, though, and I’ve only done it a handful of times. Ever. First on my dad to get out of some school trouble, but I kept making things worse. After that on my friends and Jazz, with permission, so we could document limitations and if it hurt humans. Far as we could tell, it doesn’t.”

“You sound like a very conscientious young man. I have no doubt you use your powers responsibly.”

Danny laughed. “I screwed up more than a few times before I found ghost mentors. And ghosts are always a little chaotic, so some messing around is not only expected but encouraged.”

Alfred smiled. “I’m sure we will love hearing some of those stories as we get to know you and Ms. Jasmine better.”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you everything. There’s far too much and so much of it just doesn’t matter on Earth that it’d be pointless to go into.”

Danny saw Tim open his mouth to speak, but Alfred cut him off before he could. “I only want to know one thing: will Jason be all right?”

Danny smiled in relief. “Yes. That I can promise. I don’t know for sure how best to help him, but I’ve some ideas and I’ll consult with my doctors. They’re the leading experts in human-ghost biology.”

“Then I am glad you came tonight and were able to notice something was wrong. Thank you.”

With a shrug, Danny just said, “It’s literally my job. This is what I do.” Up ahead, he could see the doorway back to the dining room.

“If it’s your job, how much do we owe you?” asked Tim.

That question brought Danny up short. “Owe me? What are you talking about?”

“If you’re doing this for work,” said Tim as they entered the dining room, “Then you need to be paid somehow. If not by us, then how?”

“What are you lying about now, Danny?” asked Jazz, shaking her head at Tim’s question.

“Nothing! Tim asked why I’m planning on helping Jason and, besides the fact that he’s dating you and I’ll obviously help, I just said it’s literally my job. You heard his reaction to that!”

Bruce grunted. “Then I suppose you know where your explanations should begin. What is your job? A full explanation this time, please.”

“Right, yes, I can totally do that. I’m so great at explaining things.”

Jazz snickered at that statement and Danny poked her as he sat down next to her. Tim and Alfred took their seats as well.

“Now, Mr. Fenton.”

Danny winced at the name. “Don’t call me that. I’m not allowed that name anymore.”

“Danny, your job,” repeated Bruce, face expressionless.

“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”

Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

----------

Next

Looks like Danny found another excuse to delay the interrogation! (I honestly forgot about the broken glass before Duke spoke up and asked about the crown. But I did always plan to have Danny clean it up.)

Tag List: I'm getting posting errors, so I'll be splitting the tag list in two.

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks

#dpxdc #danny fenton #alfred pennyworth #tim drake #bruce wayne #duke thomas #anger management #my writing #bruce does feel bad about calling danny 'fenton' #but he's awful about apologizing #and danny can't read him the way the other bats can #alfred is just happy that danny will be able to help jason #both of them #he wants his grandkids to be happy and healthy #and they too often arent

[lets-break-free-from-our-chains]

Forever and Always My Truest- Prologue

A/N: I’m back! You guys, it’s been a hell of a ride these past couple of years. I just decided one day that I was finally ready to go to college and flash forward a few years and i’m so close to having my Bachelors degrees in Psychology and Pre-Law! Anyways, I know there’s a lot of back and forth about whether the newly released 2022 movie The Invitation is good or bad, but I honestly really like it. You can’t go just by me though, cause i’m a whore for 70′s, 80′s and 90′s slashers! Yeah honey, I born a y2k baby and grew up watching horror movies like that😂 anyways lets go!

Requested? No😭 I think this is actually the first reader insert imagine or general imagine/one-shot for this movie. Hopefully, I won’t be the only one posting for The Invitation cause I really want to read other writer’s work and takes on the fandom!

Word Count: 1,650k-ish

Summary: Lady (Y/N) de Ville has been Lord de Ville’s favored bride for more than four and a half centuries. She is Walter’s beloved and cherished wife in every way. Lady Viktoria and Lady Lucy holding title and image of being one of Dracula’s brides strictly for power and connections, so that Lord Walter can provide (Y/N) and himself an eternity fit for a king and his treasured Queen. The Alexander Bloodline threaten Dracula’s goals of obtaining and maintaining control and power for (Y/N) and himself. Until the Alexanders are finally able to produce a long-lost daughter of their waning bloodline, Evelyn Alexander. As much as (Y/N) wants it to work out as well and easy as it did with Lady Lucy’s transition into bride-hood, she understands and respects that Evie is an entirely different breed of woman. Can (Y/N) save her husband and sisters before it’s too late? She wasn’t his first bride, but she will be his last bride in the end. No matter if that is by the end of this wedding or by the end of eternity.

Warnings: dub-con, forced marriage, polygamy, light NSFW, possible Stockholm syndrome?, obsessive/possessive behavior, Yandere-ish Walter de Ville, slight exhibitionism, descriptions of exhibitionism, dom/sub relationship—warnings to be added. Let me know if I missed anything.

18+ MINORS DNI!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! I DON’T NEED TO GET IN TROUBLE BECAUSE YOU’RE A MINOR READING STUFF YOU KNOW VERY WELL YOU SHOULD NOT BE READING!!! THANX

Disclaimers: I do not own The Invitation or any of the characters within the movie. You know what is and isn’t mine.

Walter de Ville x Wife!Reader

Prologue

~453 years and 7 months before present day 2022~

           ~(Y/N) P.O.V~

The dark corridors were lit by torches lining the walls, leading straight to heavy ornate wooden doors. I stood before the doors with my father, shaking with nerves as I let out a breathless sigh, before gathering the courage to look towards the handsome matured lord.

“Papa…what if he decides that he doesn’t want me?” She softly inquired. The man quietly laughed, with pure amusement shading his golden eyes. Those ethereal golden eyes a signature trait of the Castellan bloodline descendants.

“My dearest (Y/N), how could he not desire you above all others?” He sweetly cooed, seemingly so certain of his words. Still I cast papa an uncertain look and he softly sighed before fixing me with a gentle stare.

“Little one…the Master has never selected a bride before. Yet, he himself specifically chose you to be his wife, did he not?”

The man gave out an inquiring hmm as he gazed softly at me. I let a slight smile crack through my composed face. ‘Never let them see what you truly feel or think’ I mused to myself; ‘I suppose I can let my papa see though.’

Papa smiled brightly in the softly lit walls.

“Such a stunning young lady.” My papa states proudly. He’s always been a proud man, especially when it comes to me, his only daughter.

I am not the only girl from my ancient noble bloodline, but I was the only one out of all the young eligible ladies of my family, that received the Master’s immediate undivided attention. He did not seem to care at all for his bride Lady Viktoria, even as she stuck close to him practically breathing down his neck. He seemed vexed and annoyed in fact. Constantly sending her away to do something else, so that he and I could have privacy.

The master was a intimidating presence to say the least. He was tall and deliciously handsome, but a dark and dangerous look always seemed to dominate his angelic face. However, not with me. ‘Never with me.’ I thought wistfully. When he’s with me he’s soft, loving, patience, kind, understanding, funny, playful, and the list goes on. Truly shocking sites to bear witness to at first, considering all the horrors that I’ve heard people to dare whisper through the halls of my family’s castle about the Master.

I was pulled from my mind wandering state by a delicate wanton message. It called to me, washing my entire body with heat and desire.

“I belong solely to you, my truest. Soon you shall belong to me”

‘My Lord Love.’ A relaxed smile blossoming across my shining lips as my eyes slipped shut to bask in his voice.

“It is time, my dearest (Y/N)” I hear my papa’s voice.

My eyes snapped open to zero in on my papa’s face and I take in his knowing look. He knows, as he’s seen first hand the deep affections the Master holds solely for me. Papa knows he won’t have to worry for me. He knows I’ll flourish by my Lord Love’s side. He knows. He knows. He knows.

I straighten my posture and face as the doors begin to open to the night church. There he stands, so regal and handsome. Dark brown hair styled to perfection and the bluest of blue eyes that exploded with light as he lays them upon my queenly figure. He large smile stretches across his face as he locks his sight and attention on me.

I begin the slow march down the darken aisle between the pews of important lords and ladies. I can see my family and members from the other three prominent families. I see Lady Viktoria in all her jealousy and envy. ‘Certainly, no one wears desperation and jealousy the way your do Viktoria.’ I snicker away in mind, with genuine amusement.

My internal laughter is joined by the master’s laughter not a moment to soon. My eyes cut back to his, only for me to bear witness to a large smirk and the loud mischief lurking in his beautiful irises. ‘Behave, my truest.’ He teased inside my head.

‘I would have thought my master would like my naughtiness?’ I quipped, immediately receiving a pleasure full growl back as I finally stand before him. He gazes at me for a long moment before his eyes harden towards my papa. He wants papa to hand me over quickly, and thankfully my papa takes the silent demand in stride.

My papa guides my body to up the 2 steps to my lord and I hastily stretch my hand out, and the master snaps his hand out to clasp mine softly, yet tightly in his hand. His pulls my body up against his side and nuzzles his nose into my right temple, his lips just barely caressing my hairline. I relax and lean into the intimate display of affection before he slowly pulls back. He lets out a pleased sigh as he looks to the priest and gives the man a commanding nod to commence with the vows.

“Do you, Lord Walter De Ville, take Lady (Y/N) Castellan to be your lady and wife; commencing from this day forth for all eternity?” The priest asked.

“I do, absolutely.” He longingly states, whilst gazing into my golden eyes with unadulterated rapture.

“And do you, Lady (Y/N) Castellan, take Lord Walter De Ville to be your lord and husband; commencing from this day forth for all eternity?”

“I do, with all my heart.” I saying without any trace of hesitation, my damp golden eyes never straying from Walter’s intense stare.

Walter smiles at me as he releases my hand from his, to quickly drag his left index claw down the inside of his right wrist. He sweetly caresses the right side of my hair, pushing it out of the way, with his fingers as he pushes his bleeding wrist up to my lips.

“Here, my truest. Drink to your heart’s content…” He whispers, somewhat desperately with anticipation. I gently grasp his wrist in both my hands, as I swiftly wrap my lips around the wound and begin drinking. It so warm and sickening sweet, and I can’t get enough of it. I start to suck hard as I feel the need and desire pull in my nether regions, and the pleasure threatens to slip over as I teeter on the edge of ecstasy.

The same ecstasy I felt that night after the starlight ball, when he pulled me through the gardens and pinned me to a statue in a secluded area. He kissed with such passion that it was all devouring and suffocating, and I never wanted to stop. Certainly not when he pushed my dress upwards and wrapped one of my legs around his waist to grind his hard length against my heat. Most definitely not when he shoved his fingers into my smalls to caress my drenched wetness. I wanted to cry out into his wrist now, the very same way I cried out and whimpered into his mouth that night in the garden.

His low moan pulled me from my memory as I cast a side glance to his face only to feel my mouth grow slack at the sight before me. His face contorted in pure pleasure as he tilted his head back and his mouth falls open in another sinful moan. His beautiful fangs peaking through causing me to feel a warm fuzziness in my bosom and a slickness to gather in my smalls. He pulls his head back down to look at me as I once more tighten my jaws around his wrist.

He lovingly cradled the back of my head as he nuzzled into my hair, sending shivers all the way from the top of my spine to the base of it, as I feel him pant a moan into my ear. “Very good, my truest. Our eternity is just within our reach.”

I can feel it beginning to spread throughout my entire body and finally release his bloody wrist from my lips. It feels like nothing and everything at the same time. I couldn’t decide if the pain was hellish or heavenly. It was chasing to keep up with the blood rushing through my veins while my heart began to fall behind. Then, the dull ache set into my teeth and nails, feeling both grow and elongate in length. Then everything and nothing froze in place. My heart gave one last weak and long thump. The feeling of my heart stilling with its cage of bones was irrelevant compared to the feeling I receive when my eyes startle open to rest on my newlywed husband.

His eyes gave me a inquisitive and tense once over before he laughed and dove down to capture my lips within his. Cheers and applause sounded throughout the dim-lighted church and it was then I remembered that it wasn’t just the two of us. That fact didn’t even matter then, especially when my lord love pressed his tongue pass my lips and fledgling fangs to deepen the kiss and taste his essence coat the inside my mouth.

We reluctantly pulled from one another to stand and face our subjects. They all bore smiles, some fake I’m sure, but for the most part seemed genuine. I could respect Lady Victoria for that at least. She didn’t hide her true feelings behind pretty words and false smiles about the Master and I’s marriage. Her face twisting even more in disdain and envy with the Master’s next words, that he never once uttered for her.

“Hail my wife and queen, Lady (Y/N) de Ville!” He roars, soaking in the cheers and applause of our subjects. He looks to me once more with a victorious smile, whilst cupping my jaw in his hand and places a domineering kiss on my lips. I cannot help but press myself into his side and keen in wanton delight as I savor the taste of his lips and blood.

He hovers his smiling lips over mine and playfully nips at them, “Forever and always my truest love. Let it be my unbreakable vow from my soul to yours.”

“Forever and always, my king.” I swore back in hushed tone.

#the invitation #evelyn alexander #walter deville #walter de ville #walter de ville x reader #count dracula #wedding #lady viktoria #lady lucy #dracula’s brides #dracula’s wives #walter de ville imagine #Walter deville imagine #reader insert #Dracula’s favorite bride #reader #viktoria #lucy #the alexanders #the castellans #the devilles #walter deville x reader #the Invitation imagine #the invitation 2022 #the invitation 2022 imagine

[andro-dino]

Genuine curiosity: what got you here? What decisions in your life lead you ended up having brainworms for this funky spinning top commercial series? /aff /lh

it all started when I was but a wee lad in the second grade and saw Beyblade Metal Fusion on Netflix. The first time I watched it, I actually watched the third episode first because it had wolf in the title and I was a wolf girl growing up. After that I became enamored with the show. Created the first version of Essi on ms paint with a mouse (may god rest her soul (she died with the rest of my old art on my family computer one day 😔)), rewatched it a couple times, at least one of which I imagined essi in like every scene in the show, and was effectively obsessed with it. I didn’t have the abilities to draw ship art at the time but I did become very kyomado pilled during this as well. I actually didn’t know there was more after Fusion because Netflix didn’t have any of it (or I just never bothered to look for it idk).

After that, a couple years went by, and I think around 5th grade I decided to revisit it, had a blast, redrew Essi, and I was happy to leave it at that but then I was talking about it with a guy on my bus and he was like “oh yeah I really liked it have you watched fury?” and I was like “THERES MORE??????” and so I went out in search of More. I watched like half of masters on YouTube, but I didn’t retain like any of it. genuinely the only reason I know I got as far in as I did is because the only parts of it I remember at all were yu being more prominent and hikaru’s ptsd breakdown, but besides that, literally NOTHING stuck with me. I also discovered the existence of shogun steel during this time period from seeing adult gingka on google but knew nothing more about it.

That was the last of beyblade endeavors until summer of 2021. after splatoon 3 had been announced that year it had me very nostalgic for things I was into when I was younger, which started with me ranting about splatoon 1 stages I missed on twitter, which then led to me thinking about sonic underground and trying to find where to watch it bc it wasn’t on Netflix anymore. in doing this, I downloaded Tubi and saw fusion on there and I was like “omg I forgot I was obsessed with that!” I then similarly ranted my fond memories about it on Twitter and i ended up dropping my sonic underground rewatch and watching that instead. That is when the snowball began to form. I looked up the watch order and was telling my friend about it and how I was trying to find something that had all the seasons (bc at the time Tubi had fusion and fury but not masters) and then he sent me a pirating website I could use and I was like HOLY SHIT. And then from there, I watched the whole series, got obsessed with it, starting drawing fanart on my own time and looking up fandom stuff online, and then upon realizing most of the active fandom was on tumblr, dusted off my tumblr account and made my first post, and from there it’s only gotten worse.

#axel’s silly little thoughts #can I just say this was a very funny ask to see only the first few sentences of in my notifs #’what decisions led you to this point in your life’ FUN QUESTIONS FOR THE TUMBLR ASK BOX #I’ve joked about this with irl friends before but I have no idea when a hyperfix graduates to a special interest #but I think beyblade would probably constitute that for me atp #in all seriousness I’m glad to be here :] #this is the first time I’ve been part of a fandom where I’ve actually been seen and interacted #and not just been watching everyone else from the sidelines #and it’s been a very enjoyable experience I’m glad to have made the friends I have bc of it

[incarnateirony]

Let's seal away the din of each fandom thinking their noise make them special snowflakes for a second, and look at things in scale.

Because the average reporter on these things really doesn't know the machinations of the things they seek scoops on, so let's dig a little bit, and figure out where Nexstar's heads are at.

When it was first announced, many people scratched their heads; early articles threw the same 50+ audience I had joked, but that was the line--it was a joke. It was nonsustainable for primetime at the given costs. It was just funny to say it would be full of AARP ads.

But then came time to break down how AA's demo never flinched during boycotts because of the AA audience still being one of the largest demographics consuming TV by classic means, for any variety of reasons I'm not unpacking in this post.

That is, within 18-49. And like anyone paying attention to their priority on earnings, rejoining the rest of the world in the pre-pedowitz 18-49 was the way to do it, and to fix everybody's collective problems.

This isn't a transition only rattling CW, though. CW under Nexstar is actually TAKING its bizarre underdog position, cutting its losses and jumping forward.

Over time, the 10p slot on networks has largely shut down and returned to local broadcasters and affiliates. ABC held out for a great while. But it's closing that down. That's 5 hours less scripted TV space on air anymore, flat. Less real estate.

And of that real estate, much like I warned and many report, there's an overall thinning of mass volume purchasing and bulk product creation in the industry. As a worker this does kind of suck, because less stuff being ordered means less jobs. But it also ends systemic conveyor belts that choke out other creatives outside of the megacorp's approved lever pull.

ALL networks, not just CW, are cutting several shows even in non10p slots, and essentially replacing them with unscripted content. Half of ABC is going to the slaughter house this year, every network risks its own bloodbath. CW got most of the worst of it out of the way last year, while tying up their loose ends with final seasons this spring, for the most part.

But all those people seeking unscripted content are going to be awash. You go to the Next Big Network and it, too, is thinner pastures than you remember.

Nexstar is choosing key properties it can wave around. Like hey, we grew up like you did. But remember Smallville? Remember Dawson's Creek? Yeah we got those people, and we're bringing back the sitcoms yall used to watch some days back then, but new now. And we got like, a Supernatural spinoff, but it's gay, check it out.

Suddenly 15 years of fans come rushing in hungry for content because ain't shit on TV anymore. And Nexstar then shoves them at their other new content being ordered, and uses that to repair CW's damaged userbase, resist any kind of decline, maybe even dare to pinch up numbers while others go down, or at least in the cases they're investing budget in.

The growing obsoletion of the radio towers involved in the chain of delivery that is TV is a race of syndicates modernizing by other means, like Studio City, radio ventures, streamers and network purchases. And deep down in the bones, outside of anyone yelling opinions about a TV show in particular, those are the motions we're feeling right now.

And, for what it's worth, Jensen navigated this, just like the mergers and collapses all around him before it, like a master, in a way that basically secures him as WB's leading content creator on its remaining airspace at WB, until the HBO Max Transition.

What WB is really holding out for is globalization being sustainable via subscription methods by 2025-2026 once they expect to be in all countries by end of that season, which is coincidentally around a supernatural 20 year anniversary date. But that's neither here nor there for this post, as much as: the industry is propping itself up as it slowly falls down and rebuilds.

realistically, WB only cares about maintaining a few more years of airspace, after that it's whatever, but that investment itself is in that exclusivity deal with Chaos Machine Jackles has, both for The Winchesters, and the increasing Jenmish overlap of DC and Berlanti.

These are also setting the stage for future franchise decisions, something WB notoriously struggles with--Harry Potter in major decline, DC in turmoil and more, but once their direct orders are reduced, it'll pull together. And Roth made sure Zaslav knew this about Supernatural as a slept on franchise, from the jump, while telling Jensen exactly how to run the pending obstacle course.

[pixiebunnii]

Casey (Ninjago) V2

(IK its closer to like version 15 at this point, but this is only the 2nd time ive posted ab his full info [ninjago ver] here so <3)

Fair warning for scars, mentions of mental illness and disorders, and the like <3 And oc x canon??? if ur fussy ab that??? idk

Casey first, bc he's my little man, my favourite scrunk.

Basic info includes: Casey Abel Tinniel 17 years old (averagely, does change w/lore and how i draw him) He/Him pronouns (feel free to use candy themed neos for him tho, kinda experimenting w/that) Trans-Masc, FTM. Half Oni, Half Human Canonically he has ADHD and BPD. (Feel free to hc him as autistic aswell idm, no other hcs tho pls lmAO, feel free to ask if he does XYZ in my askbox, but do not hc.) British/Japanese. He is 6'3 (tall man, love him, towers over so many), loves candy (any, even that chalky valentines candy stuff), he's left handed, constantly carries chapstick, and kinda needs glasses but rarely wears them (bc hes an arse). He has a dog!!! Leonberger/Great Pyrenees X called Mochi!!!! She's big and fluffyyy!!

He is an EM (Elemental Master), but like his element b kinda stupid but i love messing around with it. (Hes a fandom oc he wasnt made for realism nor to be canon SMH) And a ninja ofc bc what cringe baby's first ninjago oc (he wasnt my first im lying) isnt a ninja!!! Pink ninja go!!!

His element. is. Technology. and I do have basic mechanics written down for it, which i will paste from my notes rn: (Please ignore mentions of "Roni" i will get into that in another post if yall like him enough)

Not me actually thinking and noting down stuff ab Casey's element.

his machines don't need power (batteries, a plug, etc) he can power them himself with his element, but that's draining so he would still add another source of power, and because he already rarely uses his element he can only power small devices.

he's able to cut off power or turn off security systems. (Like just by touching control panels & stuff)

if he knows how to build smth (mechanical) he can just build it instantly, not needing to touch the materials (idk how to explain it? like he can float electronics but he cant hold them mid-air THEY HAVE to be added to Smth mechanical/technological)

is able to hack certain things without touching them, but mostly just does that to annoy Zane when he's younger (Lloyds command/prank) and rarely does it at all later on, leading him to barely be able to do it at alllll when it's needed (most of the time it isn't because of Jay, Nya and Zane having tech knowledge and jay being master of lighting).

Mostly he can just barely use it at all other than to control small devices/andriods because he's never needed to use it. (Up until Roni, which I'll not down stuff for later, might make it so that he's forced to make a few different Oni soldiers and then have his father mass produce them? Idk) probably will change a lot of stuff but these r just notes based on the few ways I thought of him using his element

Elemental notes over (i cant be bothered to edit them)

i was gonna make him a new reference sheet for this post, but instead u can have these: (older art i might've posted but forgor)

(yk that second to last one/the one in the bottom left? yeah ill go into that in another post <3)

i draw him happy to contrast his lore <3333 and the scars tbh, hes so covered in them that drawing him happy and ignoring them is kinda comforting?? idk haha The stories behind his scars r long af so like ill just put them down as "ninja accidents" and move on. His horns and tail r optional, as he's an oni obv smh (shapeshifty boy) I think thats all for him as a character?? He's just a happy silly boy (golden retriever to Lloyds golden cat fr i mean whaTT!!!???) Yeah. Biotech. Aka Lloyd Garmadon, himself, X Casey Abel Tinniel. They r my scrunks, my blorbs, and maybe even, my little guys. I dont have any updated art of them atm, but i promise u i will make some at some point ong!!!! They like to eat candies and stuff together & watch disney movies fr!!!! Casey likes to cook so he makes homemade mochis and stuff a lot n like ong<33333 way to lloyds heart is through candy and i will NOT hear otherwise!!!! Youngest ninja members gotta look out for each other (even if that means kissing sometimes SMH) Thats all for now i think yoooo!!!

#ninjago oc #pixbun casey tinniel #ninjago #oc x canon #pixiebunnz art

[jincherie]

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga​​ ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.  

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare. 

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword. 

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life. 

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.    

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching. 

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from. 

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse. 

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now. 

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably. 

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it. 

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment. 

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting. 

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.  

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely. 

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising.  “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way. 

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip.  The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him. 

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does. 

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not. 

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can. 

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features. 

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events. 

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls. 

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel. 

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane. 

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here. 

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics. 

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts. 

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing. 

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes. 

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does. 

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour. 

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there. 

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier. 

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death. 

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this. 

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

 …You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride.  “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch. 

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know. 

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself. 

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone. 

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing. 

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly. 

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten. 

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches  and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics. 

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations. 

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think. 

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped. 

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #jk smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #my work #commission #bts fic #bts oneshot #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook crack #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #smut #bts cheerleader au #cheerleader au #kiss it better

[ashtheshortstack]

Truth be Told

Rating: G Fandom: Danny Phantom

Sequel to dwelling on deceit

Tags: Valerie POV, Post-PP

Read on ao3

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

Danny Phantom saving the world with his genius plan was something Valerie had to give him kudos for. Especially after he confirmed her suspicions and transformed back into Danny Fenton right before her eyes. She was a bit stunned to see it happen to say the least, but she knew. And was glad she was right.

The Danny she knew was just a dorky, awkward kid that she had ended up crushing on. It was… sudden. And she didn’t quite know how it happened. Little did she know she’d been fraternizing with the enemy. Danny did though. He knew she was hunting him. And yet… still pursued her. Still wanted to feel like a normal kid and date the girl he liked. She couldn’t imagine how hard it’d been for him. How hard she’d made it on him to constantly fight her knowing full and well he didn’t want to.

Dating Danny had been an uphill battle. As much as she liked him, she knew in her heart that he liked someone else more. Valerie wasn’t stupid. She could see the way he looked at Sam. It was selfish of her to confront the goth girl on the issue, but she wanted to hope that Sam would back off. She remembered when she overheard Sam saying that they’d give her a chance for Danny’s sake, but they knew. They knew this wouldn’t work out.

Jeez, Valerie owed Sam an apology. But… that would come later.

When she suited up, she hadn’t expected to find Danny so quickly. And surprisingly… alone? He and Sam had been attached at the hip since the Disasteroid. Valerie had noticed a small class ring on Sam’s finger every day at school when the two walked down the hallway with their fingers intertwined. Which was super lame and definitely not Sam’s color, but was fitting for Danny. She hated to admit that they were cute. As much as it made her want to gag.

He sat upon the town billboard. The one with the dumb “Amity Park: A Nice Place to Live!” slogan. Yeah, Amity Park was a great place to live if you enjoyed the constant ghost attacks. She was sure their town was going to become a tourist attraction not too long after the famous Danny Phantom saved the world.

“Do ghosts normally haunt billboards at night, Phantom?” she teased as she retracted her hoverboard beneath her feet.

“Night is the best time to haunt, Red, makes things spookier,” he replied, not turning to face her yet. His ever charming sarcasm oozed from his voice, but she could place a bit of hesitance in his tone as well.

Poor guy. Danny probably thought the worst of her. She hadn’t spoken to him since they had returned to school. He had spared her a few glances and nervous smiles between classes, but she hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t dared to pop open that can of worms. And yet, there she was… somehow finally finding her courage to speak to him. The boy she had hunted… the boy she had dated.

Her face softened as she smiled. “Hey, Danny.”

He looked at her then, those green eyes piercing and glowing. “Hey, Val,” he smiled. A genuine Danny smile that she had come to appreciate so much.

Valerie took a seat next to him, not sure where to even begin. But Danny took the lead, of course.

“So, how long is this truce thing going to last? I kind of miss you chasing me around with blasters,” he joked with a half hearted shrug.

Valerie chuckled, leaning back on her palms. “I didn’t know you enjoyed fighting so much..”

“Oh, yeah. Screaming in pain, getting caught in nets, even Skulker constantly telling me he wants my pelt on his wall: love it.”

“That’s a little TMI, Danny. I didn’t need to know that you were a masochist.”

Danny gaped at her. “That is not what I--”

Valerie cut him off with a burst of laughter. He pursed his lips, giving her a glare for teasing him but seemed to relax and join in the fit of giggles with her.

When the chuckles died down, Danny finally leaned back on his palms as she was. “You knew, didn’t you?”

She didn’t have to ask him to elaborate. Valerie already knew what he was asking. She looked up, gazing at the stars with a hesitant smile etching at the corner of her lips. “I had a suspicion. That was my fault, though, I shouldn’t have been so nosy and pried.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “No, if anything I was glad you knew. It’s hard explaining why I didn’t like Vlad Masters without a reason. Especially as a ghost.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t like him either.”

Danny snorted at that. “Pretty sure no one likes him anymore, Val. He tried to conquer the world by force and promised safety he couldn’t follow through on. Even my dad hates his old pal Vladdy.”

“Well, I didn’t like him anymore before that. And I tried so hard to play nice so he’d give me information. I think he tried to hint at your identity a few times too.”

Humming, he nodded. “Sounds right. Vlad always had a weird obsession with me.”

“What a freak.”

“A crazed up fruitloop.”

Valerie snorted at that. “I just--I want you to know that I’m happy for you. You’ve never seemed happier and I’m glad. You deserve it, Danny.”

He looked at her, those green eyes seeming to pierce her soul. He really was too kind. Too good, ablet a bit devious at times she knew. He always wanted what was best for everyone. Willingly sacrificed himself for the greater good so many times. And somehow, he was still the dorky unpopular kid at her school. The one she was mean to for so long because she thought that’s what she was supposed to do. Dating Danny had really opened her eyes to the person he could be. It didn’t surprise her one bit that he was Danny Phantom: the ghost hero of Amity Park.

“Thank you.”

The response was so genuine… it made her heart ache. There was a look on his face, however… something that told her there was more he wanted to say. Something in his eyes that didn’t sit well in the pit of her stomach.

“What is it?” she asked.

Danny swallowed, seeming tense. “I have to ask… how do you not hate me? I lied to you--a lot. You were dating me. You were dating Danny Phantom, the literal ghost you wanted to blast to bits and had no idea. Why didn’t you come here screaming at me?”

Sighing, she felt her shoulders sag. “After that stuff with Vlad… and after I figured you out, I had a lot of time to think about it. I was a little angry at first, I guess. But then I thought about how it must’ve been for you. You just wanted to be normal for once. It’d be lame of me to blame you for that. You knew I was literally trying to destroy your other half and yet you still wanted to be with me. I can’t hate you for that.”

He considered her, seeming to soak in her words. When he nodded with a smile, Valerie felt some relief. It wasn’t even a worry she realized she had. She hadn’t thought about Danny fearing how she’d react to him being Phantom. She was glad she could clear that up for him, at least.

Clearing her throat, Valerie quickly realized that sincere conversation was no longer for her. “Sooo, is Tucker seeing anyone?”

He blinked. “Aside from his PDA? No, not that I know of,” Danny paused and grinned. “Why? You interested?”

“I dunno. Dating Amity Park’s youngest mayor in history sounds enticing..”

“What? And dating Amity Park’s ghost superhero isn’t?”

She cocked a brow. “Yeah, but I heard he’s taken.”

“Again, that’s not what I meant.”

“Duh, I know what you meant.” Valerie paused, letting silence wash over her a minute before she sighed and glanced away from him. “We were never going to work, you know that, right?”

He cocked his head in a curious gesture. “What?”

“Danny, you’ve always loved her. Even when you didn’t know it. It was so obvious to everyone else. I just--I just thought I’d take my chances.”

Danny’s cheeks tinged pink (with a little bit of green mixed in, oddly enough.) “Valerie, I liked you. A lot. My feelings for you were real too.”

“‘Liked’ being the operative word. Danny, it’s okay. You don’t have to validate your feelings to me. I know you liked me. I just know you have had stronger feelings for Sam.”

He opened his mouth as if he were going to argue, but snapped his jaw shut quickly. Pursing his lips, he glanced away. “I do. I love her.”

“Have you told her?”

“No…?”

Valerie smacked him on the arm.

“Hey!”

“Why are you telling me, Fenton!? You should be telling Sam that!”

“I will!”

“When?”

“When it feels right!”

Valerie groaned, flopping her head back. “Ughh, you’re such a hopeless romantic. It’s almost gross.”

“Hey! You liked it when I tried to woo you!”

“Maybe so.”

He gave her a knowing look before turning away. “I don’t know how to tell her. I’ll get there, okay?”

Raising her hands in surrender, Valerie caved. “Okay, fine. But do it quick, someone may snatch her up.”

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend, Valerie?”

“Hey, maybe I just want to homie hop. I’ll date Tucker next then steal Sam from right under your nose.”

Snorting, Danny shoved her gently. “As if. Pretty sure she loves me.”

“Uh huh. Maybe she’d say it if you say it first.”

There was a beat of silence, and Valerie worried she had pushed the conversation too far. But Danny surprised her instead.

He smiled at her.

“Can we be like this all the time,” he asked.

“Me threatening to steal your girlfriend?”

He barked a laugh. “No! Just--Just being friends.”

Valerie smiled in return, holding out a hand to him. “Permanent friends truce, then?”

Nodding, he took her hand. “Permanent friends truce.”

When she let go, Valerie turned to look over the streets. As stressful as it could be to live in Amity Park, there’s nowhere else she’d want to go. This was home. These were her people. And she loved her life. It took her a long time to see it. But Amity Park meant so much to her. It was terrifying to know her life was a risk. Her home was at risk. But Danny saved them. Saved her. Just like he always did.

“You want to be a member of Team Phantom?”

“Oh, God,” she made a gagging sound. “You guys have a team name?”

“Hey! We’re cool enough to have a team name.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, Fenton.”

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #danny phantom fanfic #danny fenton #valerie gray #phantom trash #ash writes

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #my best habit #my writing

[gh0styyt0astyy]

hm.. now i'm thinkin, right.. with your other two fics of deimos being an absolute little shit, what if either hank, sanford, or both got back at him for it... sanford getting involved would be a pretty big betrayal after helping him out with hank... (ps despite the fact that i did make it before i saw it i'm 99% sure i posted my drawing of dei and san ganging up on hank a couple hours after you posted the fic of them and i'm now unofficially half jokingly declaring it as fanart of that fic because good scenario PFDNKNDGKDJSF)

✨ [Karma’s a bitch] ✨

( HEY I HOPE U DONT MIND I MATCHED THIS UP W/ ANOTHER REQUEST THEY JUST WORKED TOO PERFECTLY TOGETHER )

———————————

⭐️ [Summary] — In which Deimos comes to understand the meaning of “your actions have consequences.” (Lee!Deimos and Ler!Sanford + Ler! Hank)

guess the dude cant take what he dishes out…

key:

deimos

hank

sanford

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; also hank accidentally gets kicked in the face; if you don’t like then please just scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompts:] no. 8 + 10 / hank and sanford get their revenge

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

—————————

If there was one thing that Deimos was good at; it was being an absolute little shit. (Minus his hacking, fighting and semi decent medical skills.) A cocky little shit who was way too good at all of this.

“All of this” being; tasering Hank in the ribs, suddenly grabbing Sanford’s sides and running away, sometimes getting both Hank and Sanford in one good day.

Hank was done with Deimos’ shit, and Sanford just wanted revenge. So that’s what would happen. Sanford was gonna get his revenge, and he knew Hank would want in on that too. (I mean, c’mon. Hank is ALL ABOUT revenge.)

“Hank,” Sanford walked up to the man, poking him in the back. Hank’s shoulders jumped as he turned around quickly, shoulders falling back down but remaining tense. “I want your help.”

Hank stood there quietly, staring at Sanford. It was always so hard to understand what Hank was thinking behind those goggles.

“What is it.” Hank said, tilting his head slightly; Sanford grinned widely before he looked around the place. He grabbed Hank’s wrist (electing to ignore the jolt in Hank’s body) and dragged him to a different room.

“I want revenge.”

Hank perked up.

“I wanna get back at Deimos. You in?”

Hank thought, silently staring at Sanford. (At least, Sanford would assume he was being stared at.) “…So…?”

“What’s your plan?”

Sanford pumped his fist in the air as he leaned up towards Hank.

“Deimos!” Sanford called from another room, causing the other to lift his head from the little tablet he held. “Yeah?” Deimos called back. “C’mere for a sec, will you?” Deimos furrowed his brow. “Uh, sure.” He set down the tablet and headed off towards Sanford’s voice.

“San?” Deimos called out, entering the room he had heard Sanford in. “Over here, Dei.”

It was their storage room. Where the three would usually drop their weapons and stuff for the day before they conked out. “Hey San. What’s up?” Sanford motioned Deimos over. “Come here, I need you to look at something.” Deimos walked over, crouching down next to Sanford. “I thought I saw something glowing in there.” Sanford said, pointing into the closet. Deimos raised an eyebrow before peeking in. Something glowing? “What color?”

“Not sure. Didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Hm.” Deimos hummed. And then he saw it— a dull red glow that shone in Deimos’ face. “What the hell?” The glow got brighter and brighter before—

“AGK! SHIT!”

Hank leapt out of the dark closet and tackled Deimos to the ground, wrestling with him for a moment before Hank overpowered him and kept him to the floor. “GOOD GOD! Holy shit, Hank! What the hell!?” Deimos struggled under Hank’s hold.

“That was easier than it should’ve been.” Was all that Hank said, looking up at Sanford. “Excuse me?” Deimos said, a small tone of offense in his voice as Sanford walked up to stand beside the two. He crouched down with a small smirk on his face, Deimos looked between Hank and Sanford. “What are you two planning?” He asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

“Deimos. You ever heard the saying, what was it… “Karma’s a bitch?” Hank asked.

“…Yeesss…?” Deimos answered, suspicion rising.

“How about the saying “your actions have consequences.”

“Yes Hank, I’ve heard these sayings before. Why are you—“

Suddenly it hit Deimos, the way Sanford sat at his head and took his wrists from Hank’s hands. The way Hank kept him on the floor. “Oh. Oh shit.” Deimos muttered.

“Yeaah. I’m sure you see where this is going.” Sanford said, holding both of Deimos’ wrists with one hand.

Deimos, honestly, was extremely nervous. But he huffed, refusing to show through his facade.

“I wonder how long you can go without laughing.” Hank mused, tilting his head again (in a way that looks threatening, but no harm was showing.)

“I can last longer than you did, Wimbleton.” Deimos said with a huff, flinching inwards on himself at a sudden jab at the spot where his shoulder met with his ribs. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s ticklish.” Sanford shot at him, tightening on Deimos wrists as he tugged. “Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“First of all, I am not ticklish. Second of all, you guys are just wasting your time.” Deimos said, brows furrowing. Hank just stared before looking at Sanford. (In all honesty, Hank had no clue what to do. He’d just follow Sanford’s lead.)

“You aren’t, huh?” Sanford said, poking at Deimos again. Sanford didn’t miss the way Deimos flinched inwards again and (seemingly) bit the inside of his cheek. “Nope. Unlike you two.” Deimos grinned. “Alright then, you cocky bastard.” Hank butted in, latching onto Deimos’ legs. “You obviously wouldn’t mind us doing this, then. Would you?”

Deimos blinked, before seemingly understanding the situation he was in. “Look okay— usually I’d let you two have at it but I- um— okay okAY LISTEN-“ Deimos’ voice raised an octave, nerves jumping in his throat.

This was gonna suck.

“…would an apology make you let me go?” Deimos tried, watching as Sanford and Hank passed each other glances. “No.” Hank said, Sanford just grinned.

“Okay, I’m done waiting. Hank? Y’ready?” Deimos sucked in a breath, nervously. Hank was the master of making people antsy with how long he took to answer. The goggled man nodded.

Deimos tried to prepare himself, but he let out an awkward squawk as Sanford tased and circled on Deimos’ ribs. “AHAHGK—!” He yelped, clamping his mouth shut. Hank kneaded and clawed Deimos’ hips and lower sides. Deimos looked determined to keep any laughter inside. He shook his head. “Noh- nope— I’m naha— I’m not ticklish!” “Bullshit!” Sanford said, tickling the other side of Deimos’ ribs; it earned him a small snort.

Hank didn’t relent from his spots, either. He kept one hand on Deimos’ hips and the other started tweaking the skin of his legs.

“bweAHA- SHIHIT!” Deimos yelped again, trying to move away from Hank’s hand. “Oh? What was thaaaaat, Dei-Dei?” Sanford drew out, earning a frustrated and embarrassed whine from Deimos. “Huh… that’s funny,” Hank said, looking at Sanford, then Deimos. “I thought you said you could last longer than me? You didn’t… lie, did you?”

“I think he lied about a lot of things.”

“I dihihihid nohohaHAHT!” Deimos suddenly squeaked, arching his back before flopping back down. Sanford was vibrating his fingers into his stomach. “waHAHAIT WAHIHIHIT! SHIHIHIT!” Deimos tugged his arms again, trying to release himself from Sanford’s grip. “Lehehet gohoho!” Deimos whined.

“That’s funny, I thought I had said the same thing!” Sanford hummed in thought. “But alas, you didn’t listen…”

“I—Ihihihi’m sahahohorry!” “Hm.” Hank hummed. “You know, laughter in an apology doesn’t make it sincere. I don’t think you are.”

“Cohohohome ohohohon! I dihihihdn’t meEAHAHN IHIHIT—!” Deimos kicked his legs, trying to get Hank’s hands off as he tried to move away from Sanford’s. “Remember when you did this to me?” Hank asked, clawing at Deimos’ hips and sometimes shooting up to his ribs.

Deimos pulled his elbows to his face as best he could, hiding the creeping blush. He squealed when Sanford pinched his stomach. “SAHAHAHANFOHOHORD YOU TRAHAHAHAHITOR!” Deimos belted out loud laughter as Sanford only grinned.

Slowly, the tickling sensations stopped on Deimos’ body, the man in question letting out shaky laughs and breathing. Deimos sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his shirt ride up. “Wait wahAHAHIT WAHAHAIT! Lehehet’s tahahalk about thihihihis!”

Sanford thought, and so did Hank. The two looked at each other before shaking their heads. “Nah.” Was all Sanford said before blowing a raspberry on Deimos’ stomach.

“OHOHOHOHOH SHIHIHIT- OH MY GOHOHOHOD!” Deimos let out, his body going limp while his legs frantically kicked.

It was all fun and games until—

*CRRRRK!*

Sanford and Deimos stopped immediately, after realizing that Hank had accidentally been booted in the face. His goggles having broken and fallen off. If Hank was in pain he sure didn’t show it.

“OHOHO SHIT! Hahahnk! Hahank I’m sorry!” Deimos gasped, sitting up after Sanford had let him go.

Hank laid there on his back for a minute before sitting up and touching his face, already warm with a bruise forming.

“Well. Shit.” Was all Hank said.

“Are you okay?” Deimos asked, Sanford sitting in between them. Hank nodded. It wasn’t the worst he had been through before.

“…Okay, well- I think we all got our revenge?” Sanford said.

With Hank’s new lack of goggles, it was a little easier to see he was, indeed, looking at the other two and thinking. He looked at Sanford with dull eyes and looked like he wanted to say something before standing up. “Sure.” He said, offering a hand to the other two men.

They both stood up, Deimos still giggling slightly. Sanford hit his shoulder lightly. “You liar…” He grinned as Hank picked up his goggles in the background.

#ghosty.replies #ghosty.keysmash #writing #sfw tickle fic #mc tickling #lee!deimos #ler!sanford #ler!hank #writing this made me ✨🥰 feel things 🥰✨ /pos #i have a lot of feelings for these funny little men and their friendship #maybe more if …. ya catch my drift 😏……

[maxwell-grant]

The crossover fic + learning he's a favorite of yours has me curious: do you think it would be possible to tell a satisfactory Shadow vs. Mr. Mxyzptlk story? I think he'd fit surprisingly well in that milieu as a credible threat: he's something of an older, mistier, shadowy world, kin to fairies and elves and imps, pixies and sprites and genies, bound by old laws and dressed like a parody of 20s/30s class, beyond The Shadow's usual powers and yet...THAT. There a thematic in to this throwdown?

I had never actually thought of Mxy in that light, even though it's very much in line with what he is, because Mxy is one of those characters I don't tend to think about much. He's one of those ready-made perfect villains who pretty much guarantees a fun and creative time whenever he pops up uninvented. Like The Ventriloquist for Batman, he is so uniquely a product of how Superman works and what his stories allow for, that I can't say I ever thought of taking him for a spin outside of them. But there's definitely stuff to work with in putting him and The Shadow together.

Come to think of it, if there's a Superman villain I think Walter Gibson would have liked to play around with, it would be Mxyzptlk. Mxy stories are fundamentally about Superman being thrust into a position where his only way out is to solve puzzles and turn the tables using nothing but his wits, and Gibson spent the majority of his career before and after The Shadow as a writer of books on magic and puzzles, both of which show up a lot in The Shadow stories. You see it even in several covers which contained clues for the stories within.

To an extent, you could argue that The Shadow might figure out quicker a way to trick Mxy, because The Shadow's already has to utilize a constant amount of trickery and deceit and puzzle-solving in his daily adventures, it comprises almost the majority of what his stories are about under Gibson. The usual Mxyzptlk narrative is one that's well within The Shadow's domain.

But on the other hand, it's definitely some extremely unusual territory for The Shadow, villain-wise. A villain who eclipses his powers and scope to such an extent is completely unheard of. The one time I can think of where he fought a villain this weird and who he was completely powerless against was when he met Suven The Clown King of Venus (who's definitely a character that could show up in this meeting), and even then Suven was just a weird alien who looked gigantic next to the shrunken Shadow. Even on the few occasions where The Shadow encountered other aliens or eldritch monsters, he was able to find a way to stop the threat for the moment or even kill it, which is definitely not happening here, because Mxy is a whole other level.

Superman has the strength and endurance and superpowers to roll with whatever mayhem Mxy throws his way. If Mxy decides that The Shadow’s looking too pale so he's gonna give him a tan by throwing him in the sun, what the hell is he gonna do to stop him? I imagine that Mxy would likely take a different approach to messing with The Shadow, since he can't tank nukes like Supes and he's not really a good sport about the game. 

Fine, whatever, Mxy's a creative sort, he's got a couple of ideas for messing around with Mr Grim-n-Serious over there, show him what an Eldritch Monster looks like past the squid monsters and dragons he may have met.

The idea I'm getting here is, on one hand, Mxy attacking The Shadow with the usual goofiness he brings with him. And on the other, him realizing that messing with The Shadow's dignity isn't as fun as he thought he'd be, so he instead goes full SCP Foundation/Awful Hospital/Ice Cream Man on The Shadow until he's stopped, trapping him in amusing and horrifying eldritch nightmares and situations that he has absolutely no way to escape until he solves the puzzle. 

I mean, he's not fighting Superman here, he can kill this guy with a blink, even just stopping his heart with a thought. No fun in that. He's gotta beat the "Master of Darkness" at his own game. He's got a point to prove.

I imagine that much of the story would play out of The Shadow having to piece together what exactly has gone topsy-turvy in his reality, whether it's Commissioner Weston eating spiders for breakfest or the entirety of Manhattan sans him going blind and all lights going out across the country. And when Mxy comes out with that shrill SURPROISE!!!, assuming The Shadow already knows what he needs to do, then he falls for whatever gambit The Shadow's had to cook up to trick him. 

At the end, Mxy is an arrogant bully who lords power over those that can't fight back, and The Shadow's a master of beating those by turning their arrogance against them. It's Duck Amuck, except Bugs is a mind-breaking sadist and Daffy has to fight back.

I imagine something akin to a particularly funny scene from a story called Face of Doom, where a gangster traps The Shadow in a room surrounded by armed henchman so he can enlist him into taking down the city's leading criminal, The Face. The Shadow unmasks himself as Cranston to gain his trust, and the two proceed to talk plans. I'll post the sequence below

Calmly, The Shadow was removing his slouch hat. His arms spread, the black cloak began to drop from his shoulders. Clipper's nervousness changed to elation. If ever a criminal fooled himself, Clipper did so at that moment.

Though The Shadow voiced no agreement to Clipper's offer, the crook was confident that it was sealed. The Shadow was taking a step that no other criminal had ever witnessed.

When Clipper's squinty eyes saw the hawkish features of Lamont Cranston, the crook displayed another of his downward grins. There wasn't any question about the prisoner really being The Shadow.

"A ritzy mug, ain't you?" voiced Clipper. "Well, that makes you the real McCoy. One thing we'd all figured, Shadow — we guessed you was a high-hat guy.

"'You don't get out of here until The Face is croaked! Say, though — maybe one of your ritzy friends could put up a good front with The Face."

"There are others, who might serve. I have agents, you know."

A shrewd gleam brought new ugliness to Clipper's eyes. He had heard of The Shadow's agents. It would be smart stuff—using them to get The Face, then disposing of them afterward. Clipper couldn't hide the eagerness that betrayed his new scheme.

"Good stuff," agreed Clipper. "But how am I going to reach those guys and get them to work with me? They only take orders from you, don't they?"

In reply, Clipper saw Cranston pick up the black cloak and hat. He handed the garments to the crook. For the moment, Clipper was puzzled; then he saw Cranston's hand extend the discarded gloves.

"I get it," chuckled Clipper. "You want me to rig up like I was you. Then the guys that work for you will listen to me. How do you handle them—with some password?"

"Usually," replied The Shadow. "Try on the cloak and hat first, Clipper. I must study the appearance that you make."

It seemed like a give-away of The Shadow's game. Any one could stage this Shadow stuff. All he had to do was masquerade in black, spring a shivery laugh, and shoot quick with his guns. If Cranston could pull it, Clipper could.

The Shadow spends a couple of paragraphs calmly walking Clipper through the steps necessary to pull off a convincing Shadow performance, almost like he's directing him. And then this happens:

The back of Clipper's neck was exposed. Though The Shadow's voice was still the leisurely tone of Cranston, his left hand had lost its laziness. Behind Clipper's back, that fist whipped an automatic from a shoulder holster. Clipper didn't scent the move until the muzzle of the .45 iced his neck.

"It won't work, Shadow," rasped Clipper. "You know it as well as I do! One pop from that gat of yours, the mob will pile in and croak you! There's a wicket in that door; they'll use it!"

The Shadow had shifted low behind Clipper's back. The crook could no longer observe the reflection of Cranston's face. He could still feel the pressure of the gun muzzle on his flesh. "Climb off my neck, Shadow," warned Clipper. "It ain't getting you nowhere!"

It was getting The Shadow further than Clipper guessed. The gun muzzle was actually gone from Clipper's neck. His impression that it rested there was merely an after effect, from former pressure.

Crouched low, The Shadow had now reached the door. Before Clipper guessed what was up, The Shadow twisted the door knob. Wrenching the door inward, he pulled himself behind it.

At the same moment, The Shadow snapped a quick command, in a rasp that resembled Clipper's own harsh tone:

"The Shadow's yours, gang! Croak him!"

It ends for Clipper about as well as you'd expect.

One of the things I like most about Mxy is that you can't take shortcuts with him. It's not like how it is with Riddler stories, where you can half-ass the riddles because you know Batman's gonna win once he touches Riddler and the story's gonna end in a punch-up, Mxyzptlk is completely invincible unless you solve the puzzle he presents, and you'd think of course that, surely, he can't fall for it this time.

He's a wise guy, see, he's seen all of Superman's tricks by now, and what's that dumb old Shadow gonna do that he can't see a mile away? This is almost too easy.

It's so easy, in fact, that The Shadow even agrees, he's lost it completely, and the way he could possibly beat Mxyzptlk is by calling one of his agents to save him, and he's prepared a list of some of his smartest, cleverest agents for this moment. But, no, he wouldn't dare put them in such danger against this invincible, immortal genius, someone has to take this list from him and run, but ZOINKS, Mxy's taken the list. So he's gonna start seeing who is it that the Shadda thinks is smart enough to take him.

Clyde BurKe? Like some dimestore journalist's gonna have a shot, just cause he solves crossword puzzles. Lamont Cranston, yeah, more like, LAMEONT CRANSTON. Harry VincenT, who, the dumb kid who tried jumping off a bridge once? Come on, you gotta give me a hand here, Shadda! Let's see, Pietro, what, some cook? Ya kidding? Moe ShrevnitZ...actually, Shrevy's allright, scratch that one. ShrevY, hey, come on, that's cheating, ya just put Shrevnitz's name again, ya dum-dum. Mr Xanadu, hmm, catchy name but probably not a real guy. And Margo Lane. Yeah, smart dame that one, she could probably figger something out. And ya keep writing everyone's name's weird - WAIT

I KNOW WHAT YER TRYING TO DO HERE.

I KNOW YOU GOT SOME CLEVER SCHEME HERE, I'D SEEN THIS BEFORE, IT'S AN OLD TRICK.

YOU EMPHASIZED THE LETTERS SO THE REAL SMARTEST GUY YOU KNOW WOULD BE HIDDEN WITHIN THEM, SO THAT SOMEONE ELSE COULD FIND HIM.

HAH, THAT'S RICH. THAT'S KID'S PLAY. WHAT, YOU THINK I CAN'T FIND THIS

KLTPZYXM

BY MYSELF?

.

.

.

aw crickets...

#replies tag #superman #the shadow #mr mxyzptlk #dc comics #comic books #pulp heroes #bogleech

[hockeylvr59]

What Ifs, Part 3 || Jeff Skinner

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: I’ve been trying to write this part for at least six months so it feels good to finally get it finished. Hope you’re ready for some fluffy Christmas content in April, and a boatload of sexual tension and some idiocy. Set Fri/Sat Dec. 13th/14th. See next post & 010 tag for Jeff’s apartment inspiration and the Christmas tree inspiration. 

For a quick recap: You met Jeff at a spillway in northern PA and met up with him at a beach in Erie a few days later. After that daily conversation ensued and he visited you to go to a college football game before you surprised him at a Pens/Sabres game he didn’t think you were coming to. He kissed you postgame and murmured that he would very much like to fuck you after you teased him as he headed to the team bus. 

Warnings: sexual tension ||  Word Count: 5,472

~~~~~~

Light snowflakes were falling, landing on your car’s windshield and then quickly melting. Christmas music played softly over the radio, while you followed your phone’s navigation through the streets of Buffalo, New York. There was just something about Christmastime that caused little bubbles of joy and excitement to course through your entire body. Those bubbles grew two sizes larger when you thought about the week ahead. 

It had been a month and a half since you’d seen Jeff in the bowels of PPG Paints Arena, had felt his arms wrapped around you, felt the press of his lips against yours. Since then, you hadn’t been able to get those brief moments out of your head. Though you talked with Jeff basically every day, and your conversations had become more intimate, you hadn’t talked about the fact that he’d kissed you and you certainly hadn’t talked about his declaration that he would indeed like to fuck you. Finally though, after a month and a half, you were less than 12 hours away from seeing him face-to-face once more. 

Pulling into his apartment’s parking garage, you gathered the trash you’d accumulated during the six-hour drive before climbing out of the car, stretching out your body. You’d finished your last final this morning and per Jeff’s request had immediately packed up before hitting the road. You’d be asleep when he got in from tonight’s road game, but when you woke he’d be there and that was more than enough motivation to not delay your trip until tomorrow. 

Throwing your trash into your purse to take inside, you gathered the rest of your bags and locked your car. Stepping into the apartment complex’s lobby, you stopped at the doorman/security officer’s desk. Two minutes later, you had a key in hand along with a note and were directed to press the button for the fifteenth floor in the elevator. Stepping off the elevator, you searched for the right apartment, stopping in front of it with a sigh. Setting your bag down, you fumbled with the key for a moment but as soon as the door swung open you couldn’t help but smile. Though it was clearly a bachelor’s apartment, the atmosphere was immediately calming, something you very much needed after a long day. 

Setting your bags down, you slipped your shoes off and made your way into the kitchen where you leaned yourself against the counter to read Jeff’s note. His scratchy script urged you to make yourself at home, rambled about how excited he was to see you, insisted that you use the money he’d left on the counter to order dinner, and left channel information for the television so that you could watch the game. Just above the scrawled Jeff, his final sentence brought a warm flush to your cheeks. 

The guest bedroom is all yours if you want...but I’d love nothing more than to come home to you in my bed. 

You’d shared a bed before, but that was prior to the not so innocent encounter you’d had in Pittsburgh. Still, something pushed you to carry your things down the hall, past what you assumed was the guest room and into what was clearly the master suite. Leaving them on the bed to deal with later, you returned to the main living space of the apartment, taking a few minutes just to wander around. Jeff had pictures of his family on shelves by the tv which was hung on the wall above a gas fireplace. Looking out the window, you could see the arena just a few blocks away and couldn’t help but laugh knowing Jeff hated long commutes. Turning back to the apartment’s interior, you noted that his large sofa looked warm and comfortable, and he certainly had a chef’s kitchen even if he was no chef. As promised, there were a pair of twenty-dollar bills tucked under a fruit bowl on the island and you decided maybe it was time for dinner since it was nearly seven o’clock. 

After searching for local restaurants you decided that game food sounded good and so you placed an order for chicken strips, mozzarella sticks, pretzel sticks, and deep-fried cheesecake for dessert.  Since Jeff had threatened you not to even think about paying for the food yourself you complied and noted that you were paying with cash. With food on its way, you moved to try and figure out Jeff’s tv, settling it onto the channel for the game, pregame programming already playing. 

It wasn’t long before Jeff’s face came across the screen and immediately your heart fluttered. It was silly because you watched Jeff’s games all the time (at least when they didn’t conflict with the Penguins), but for some reason watching it while sitting in Jeff’s apartment felt different. Just before puck drop, you got the alert that your food was downstairs so after slipping on some shoes, you grabbed the cash and key and made your way down to get it. 

With dinner spread out across the coffee table, you got yourself a glass of water and settled in on Jeff’s couch. About midway through the first period, he snuck the puck through the goalie’s legs and into the back of the net causing you to let out a cheer. Just before the end of the second, he buried another puck past the goalie to give the Sabres a two-goal lead. Watching Jeff play so well made a content smile settle onto your face as you cleaned up your leftovers and trash before snuggling under the blanket that was tossed over the back of the couch. With your eyes occasionally fluttering shut, you missed what preceded the tussle Jeff was currently in with a player on the opposing team. Immediately anxiety filled your body, but soon you watched as Jeff was led to the penalty box appearing no worse for wear as he continued to chatter away. 

By the time the game ended, you had already started to fall asleep on the couch, so you decided it was time to head to bed, tidying up before locking the front door and retreating to Jeff’s bedroom. There you changed into pajamas before setting your suitcase on a chair in the corner. Brushing your teeth and washing your face was all you needed to do in the bathroom and after plugging your phone in, you flipped off the lights and tugged the covers back climbing into bed. Soon, with your body sinking into the comfortable mattress, you were out like a light. 

___

“Shh, it’s just me…go back to sleep.” You heard whispered as you stirred. You had no idea what time it was, but as the bed shifted beside you, part of you realized that Jeff had arrived home. Unconsciously, you shifted toward him and a warm set of arms draped around your waist as you settled your head against his shoulder and dozed right back off. 

When you actually awoke, the room was filled with the faintest morning light. It was only then that you processed the fact that your entire body was tangled with Jeff’s, pressed tightly against him. Your head was still on his shoulder, your bodies touching from your chests to your hips, and your legs were entwined with his. Your mind raced to figure out how to best extract yourself when you felt Jeff’s chest vibrate under you. 

“Morning.” He murmured, his voice groggy. Lifting your head, you glanced up to see that his eyes were still filled with sleep and he had a sleepy smile on his face as he gazed right back down at you. 

“Morning…” You whispered back, shifting the hand that had been curled against Jeff’s chest to run through your hair. 

“Sorry if I woke you coming in last night…” Jeff said, yawning softly. 

“I don’t think you did…” You whispered. “I don’t actually remember you climbing into bed.” 

“Then it was just your body that noticed.” Jeff teased. “Because you shifted to cuddle me immediately.” A warmth crept over your cheeks but Jeff’s smile only grew, still lazy and soft due to the early morning hour. “Was kinda nice,” Jeff explained with a small shrug. “Told you I wasn’t going to complain if you chose my bed.” He continued, his lips dropping to press gently against your forehead. 

After stretching slightly, you finally dropped your arm back to Jeff’s torso, your fingers grazing against his abdomen. A low groan slipped from his lips and he moved his hand to lace his fingers with yours. 

“As much as I wanna stay here…” He mumbled. “Want you to keep touching me.” He added under his breath. “We should probably get up before I have an even bigger problem.” This time when your eyes met his, they were a shade darker than just a minute ago and your saliva caught in your throat at what he was implying. 

“Mmmm...yeah…” You agreed, working to extract your body from his. “I um...I’m gonna use the guest bathroom real quick...do you have stuff for breakfast in your fridge?” Jeff’s expression was unreadable as he watched you climb from bed, making your way towards the hallway door. 

“I’m sure we can find something.” 

___

By the time Jeff made his way out into the kitchen, you had managed to find a package of pancake mix and some bacon and eggs in his fridge and were hard at work making breakfast. Without saying a word, Jeff moved to start some coffee before taking over the skillet with the eggs from your hands. 

“Let me help.” He chided. With the two of you working side by side, it didn’t take long to have breakfast made and once it had been served onto plates, Jeff paused, pulling you into his arms. “I haven’t had a proper hug yet.” He explained, almost whiny about it. Settling your arms around his waist, you returned his hug, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. “So glad you’re here.” Jeff declared, kissing your head once more before pulling away.

Settled at his kitchen island you ate breakfast in comfortable silence. When you were finished, Jeff took your dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. As he did so your eyes raked over his body, dressed only in sweats and a t-shirt. He was so attractive that you had to force yourself to look away before he caught you staring. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” You murmured, not sure what exactly he had in mind since you’d let him plan pretty much everything. “Or I guess I should ask about today and the rest of this week?” You added, realizing that beyond the fact that he had one home and one away game, you had no idea what his schedule was like. 

Jeff turned to lean against the counter across from you as he responded, his smile bright and eyes twinkling. 

“I thought maybe today you could help me decorate?” He suggested. “We have the day off so I’m all yours. Then tomorrow we just have practice so I was thinking you could play tourist for a bit and then we could go out for dinner, maybe introduce you to Jack or some of the other guys.” After laying out his thoughts for weekend plans, Jeff paused for a moment to let you respond, and when you simply nodded he continued. “Monday we play at home, I already have your game ticket. Tuesday is a quick up and back to Toronto, we’re literally flying up in the morning and back after the game. I think a few of the guy’s girls are going if you have your passport on you and would be interested, but no pressure there if you want to stay here and veg for a day.” Warmth flooded through you at Jeff’s acknowledgement that this trip could be a lot and that if you needed some quiet time during it that was more than okay. At the same time though you couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed at fact that he wanted you to meet his teammates and their significant others. 

Jeff pulled his lower lip between his teeth and his fingers rubbed at his neck before he spoke once more. “And then uh...Wednesday we have our team Christmas stuff, an official organization family skate in the morning and then Jack is hosting just the team and dates to his place for the evening…” 

“Oh uh…” You breathed, having no idea that all of that was going on while you’d be here. Sensing that your brain was spinning away from you, Jeff rounded the island. 

“But uh...we can talk about that later. I don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Let’s just see how things play out okay?” He offered and when his fingers laced with yours you found yourself nodding. “Good…” Jeff breathed. “I just want you to enjoy being here.” His concern, the way his eyes spilled over you, it all made you want to shiver in the best way. 

“So...decorating?” You mused, bringing your mind back to focus on the day ahead instead of dwelling on everything else and the weight all of it held. 

“Yep...go get dressed.” Jeff prodded, lifting you off of the stool with ease and placing you on your feet. His show of strength sent a spark through you and you nodded, retreating back to the bedroom to dig through your bag for clothes. Fifteen minutes later, you had pulled on a pair of jeans, a snuggly sweater, warm socks, and had done a really light coat of makeup before sliding into your tennis shoes and grabbing your coat. 

“Ready?” Jeff inquired from his spot on the couch in the living room. 

“Yep.” You replied, taking in Jeff’s similar outfit and the way it clung to his form. Sliding your phone into your pocket and grabbing your wallet, you followed him down to the garage, sliding into the passenger seat of his SUV with just a little help. Once he had pulled the car out onto the downtown Buffalo streets, his hand fell to rest over yours and you looked over at him, biting your lip at how natural the warmth of his palm felt. 

With Christmas music playing over his car’s speakers, the drive was quiet and almost a bit stifling. Then Jeff murmured once more that he was really glad you were here and the way he glanced over at you told you that he meant that with everything in him. 

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You replied, heart fluttering a bit no matter how much you tried to control it. Jeff drove out of the city and into the surrounding suburbs before pulling into the parking lot of a Walmart. When he parked, you climbed out, dropping down onto the pavement before meeting him at the rear of the vehicle. 

“And here I thought you were taking me somewhere more exciting than a Walmart.” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder into his arm. Jeff’s cheeks turned a little pink as he walked beside you into the store. 

“I figured we’d get the ornaments and garland and everything first and then head to the tree farm to pick the tree.” He explained rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t really have any decorations here.” He mumbled under his breath causing you to look up at him curiously. “I’m fairly close to home, usually traveling, and haven’t really had a reason to decorate before.” He shrugged. You nodded, letting him grab a cart as you followed him into the store. In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but focus on his words though. Neither of the first two points had changed all that much so was the driving factor the third...and if so was that reason you? Though you wondered, you didn’t ask, instead just pushing it to the back of your mind once more. 

Being that it was already mid-December, the Christmas section of the store was fairly well decimated and you watched Jeff’s eyes go wide as if he didn’t expect that. Giggling to yourself, you moved over to the rack of tree lights which was mostly empty but still had a few boxes of both white and colored left. 

“What color lights do you prefer?” You asked him softly knowing that was as good a place as any to start. Jeff looked at you like he honestly had no idea so you grabbed the remaining few boxes of white lights, tossing them into the cart he was pushing. 

“I didn’t expect everything to be gone.” He whispered softly as he pushed the cart down the empty aisles. There was one container of white glass ornaments tucked onto the back of a shelf but otherwise there really wasn’t much of anything. 

“Jeff it’s mid-December.” You murmured back leaning against the cart. Sensing his distress you rested your hand over his. “Is there a Michael’s nearby?” You asked, pulling out your phone to check when he didn’t seem to know the answer. Finding one about fifteen minutes down the road, you grabbed the container of white balls since they’d go with anything, a box of ornament hooks, and you then urged Jeff to head to check out with your meager findings. 

Back at the car, you plugged the address into his GPS and squeezed his hand assuring him that Michael’s would have plenty of decorations left for him to choose from. It didn’t take long to drive to the craft store and when you led Jeff inside this time you couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face at seeing aisles upon aisles of Christmas and other decorations. Starting in the aisle full of ornaments, you asked him what he liked and what kind of aesthetic he wanted for his tree. 

For a moment he just looked back and forth like this was too many options before finally pointing to some wooden carved ornaments and how those looked kind of cool. Finally getting somewhere, you smiled and pulled a few of each design off the hooks setting them into the cart. After suggesting various colors of ornaments which received faces with varying degrees of dislike, you finally picked up a container of dark green balls and a pondering face crossed Jeff’s face. 

“Forest green with the white balls from Walmart and the wood?” You reminded him trying to get him to picture how it would all look together. 

“Do you think it would look good?” He asked and when you nodded he offered his hand out for the container to put it into the cart. Spotting a similar container that was just a little smaller with silver balls, you grabbed those as well putting them into the cart and shrugging at his questioning glance. 

“You need at least a little bit of sparkle. So just a little metallic.” You insisted. Deciding that should be sufficient ornament wise, you moved down the aisles to find something that would serve as a nice garland and fit with the aesthetic Jeff seemed to like. A few aisles over you found strings of wooden balls and you showed Jeff before adding them to the cart. Then you disappeared into the depths of the store before coming back with wide-width forest green velvet ribbon which would give the decorations just a little bit more depth. 

Jeff just watched you maneuver through the store before asking if you had everything you needed. For a moment you nodded but as you made your way to the check out, you spotted pine cones and added a container of those as well knowing that would be the perfect finishing touch. 

“Oh…we need a tree topper too.” You said, stopping out of nowhere right in front of the cart before tugging him off in the direction of the toppers before picking out a simple but pretty silver star to go on top. 

“Now are we done?” Jeff asked, though his expression was one of amusement not annoyance. Pausing for a moment to look over what was in the cart, you then nodded finally letting him go check out with all of your goodies. It was going to be a pretty tree, well once you actually picked out a tree. 

As Jeff unloaded the cart, you noticed that he had picked up a few small wreaths. One was just plain and you weren’t sure what he had in mind for that but the other was simple but pretty and perfect for a door and the command hook he unloaded alongside of it suggested that he’d thought the same thing. There was also a tree stand which was probably going to be helpful, and a white faux fur tree skirt. 

It didn’t take long for Jeff to pay for all of the decorations before grabbing the bags and guiding you back out into the cold weather to the car. Shivering slightly from the wind, you tugged your coat tighter around you as you climbed into the passenger seat again, reaching for the seatbelt. 

Within just a few minutes of Jeff starting the car though, you were warm from head to toe and you realised he’d turned the seat warmer on for you. While you were still in a fairly commercial neighborhood, Jeff pulled into a Starbucks drive-thru and ordered warm beverages for the next part of your day. From there he drove even further away from the city and you watched the northern New York countryside pass by your window unsure of whether the warmth you were feeling was solely emanating from the seat and beverage or from the way Jeff made you feel. 

As you drove farther into the countryside, a light snow covered the ground and trees making everything look that little bit prettier. Seeing the tree farm up ahead you couldn’t help but bounce a little in your seat because this was something you’d never done before. Your family has always had an artificial tree so you’ve never picked out a real one before. 

Following Jeff because he clearly knew what he was doing in this regard, you moved through the rows of trees behind him, eyes wide at just how many there were. 

“Have you seen any you’ve liked?” Jeff asked, popping up behind you somehow after a few minutes.” Jumping a little you smacked his arm gently for scaring you. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for…” You murmured. “It’s your tree.” You reminded, shrugging your shoulders after sticking your hands back in your pockets because it was cold. Jeff’s chuckle filled your ears and he reached to pull one of your hands out of your pocket, tucking it into his own as he led you down the row of trees pointing out a couple that he liked. Reading his body language, you urged him that the one he really liked but wouldn’t say so was the one and after that he handed you the keys, kissing your temple and telling you to go warm up while he got the tree paid for, cut down, and loaded up. 

From the car you watched as, with the help of the lot’s employee, Jeff loaded the tree up onto the top of the SUV and got it tied down. Soon after that you were off to head back into the city Jeff asking what you wanted for lunch since it was already that time of day. 

“I can just make something when we get back.” You assured him, not minding cooking for the two of you. Jeff murmured back that he didn’t invite you here to cook for him all week and you sighed softly replying that you didn’t come up expecting to not do anything all week either and that you could handle a few meals. A moment later he nodded, deciding that this wasn’t something worth going back and forth over and he turned his attention back to the road as the city loomed in front of you once more. 

Having reached the garage of his building once more, you moved to grab as many shopping bags as you could so that you could get them inside and ready to decorate the tree which you weren’t quite sure how Jeff was going to get inside and up to the fifteen floor as you had a feeling it was too tall for the elevator. 

You realized Jeff had come to this same conclusion moments after you did when he cursed under his breath. 

“Let me get all the breakable decorations upstairs and then I can come help you with the tree?” You suggested. Jeff seemed to agree but when you came back down, he was carrying the tree with the help of the building’s doorman, brushing off your help and just asking you to go wait on his floor to open the stairway door. 

Shaking your head to yourself, you took the elevator back up not envying the poor doorman helping Jeff to carry a tree up fifteen flights of stairs. At the top, you waited for them, holding the door up when they approached and then moving to hold the apartment door open as well before moving out of the way as they leaned the tree against a wall. While Jeff talked to him, you retreated into the kitchen to try and figure out what to make for lunch, deciding to make up a quick stir fry because that wouldn’t take long after defrosting some chicken in the microwave. 

You were grabbing some things from his freezer and searching for another pan when Jeff appeared behind you making you jump again. 

“You gotta stop that.” You chastised, looking over your shoulder at him. “And I hope you are going to do something nice for your poor doorman.” You added teasing, nodding when Jeff assured you that he was getting him game tickets and a signed jersey. When he asked if he could help you shook your head telling him that he should go figure out where he wanted to put the tree and get it set up so that you could start decorating after lunch. 

“Alright, just holler if you need something.” He agreed before moving back around the island to the living room leaving you to navigate his kitchen to make up a quick lunch. By the time you had all your ingredients ready, the chicken was defrosted and you put it into the pan with just a little bit of water to start cooking, adding in the vegetables shortly after that. When everything was looking good and ready, you added in the stirfry sauce and added the rice to the small pot of water you had brought to a boil. 

Within 20 minutes you were serving lunch onto plates and calling Jeff to come eat, laughing at how he was struggling with the tree. Moving to lend him an extra set of hands quickly, you managed to help him get the tree into the base and secured so that it would stand on its own. Repeating that food is ready, you smile at how flushed his cheeks are before moving back into the kitchen teasing that now you understand why he’s never decorated before. 

Getting ice from the icemaker you didn’t hear him say that he never had anyone worth decorating for, though those words would have brought tears to your eyes if you had. 

___

After lunch you let Jeff finish up the dishes while you worked on pulling all the decorations out of their bags. With everything laid out, you turned some Christmas music on from your phone to set the mood again. 

When Jeff came in he turned on his gas fireplace and taking a strand of lights you’d already plugged in and checked from you, he started to wrap the lights amongst the branches working his way from the bottom of the tree up. It was almost seamless, the rhythm you settled into with you checking the lights and unwinding them before Jeff took them to continue wrapping around the tree until it was fully lit once plugged in. 

“It already looks pretty.” You grinned signaling to him that he’d done good work with the lights. 

Jeff just smiled that bright smile back and you reached to open one of the containers of ornaments while also grabbing the box of hooks. Again, the two of you took turns putting hooks on the ornaments and handing them to each other, making sure that each color and type was dispersed evenly around the tree. As you hung one of the wooden ornaments toward the middle of the tree you felt Jeff press up behind you, hanging a silver ball above your head. The heat of his body made you shiver and as he pulled away his hand slid along your waist as he steadied himself. You didn’t say anything for a moment before asking him to hand you one of the green balls. 

Jeff pressed against you from behind twice more while tucking pinecones up into the branches of the tree and he slid against you while passing to grab the ribbon to drape around it. Each time he did so, a jolt sparked through your body, but that little voice in the back of your mind insisted that he didn’t mean it like that. Focusing on draping the wood garland so that it was spaced opposite the ribbon, you didn’t see Jeff’s eyes rake over your body or the way they softened as you hummed along to the Christmas carols. When everything was finally on the tree you reached to hand him the star to top it off insisting that he do it since it’s his tree. 

For a moment Jeff hesitated before he reached to set the star on top before stepping back to admire the tree with you for a moment before you shifted it back toward the wall and got it plugged in, adding water into the base now that it wasn’t going to be moved anymore. The final step was adding the skirt around the base which Jeff insisted you do since you were already down there with the water. Once that was done, you smiled at how pretty it looks and hugged him from the side declaring that it looked worthy of a magazine. 

Cleaning up the packaging, you watched as Jeff moved to hang the one wreath on his door while the other was placed under the fruit bowl in the center of his island with pinecones and a small green and white ornament tucked into it. 

“Good work Mr. Skinner.” You grinned, washing your hands from the pine so that any pollen didn’t irritate your eyes. “Your apartment is ready for Christmas now.” His dimple was showing and his eyes flashed with something you didn’t understand as you peeked over at him suggesting that they watch a Christmas movie since they were done decorating. 

Jeff agreed and you settled onto the couch handing him the remote as he pulled your feet into his lap before draping the throw blanket over your legs. After checking for your approval, he settled on Elf and you couldn’t help but smile as he quoted along to the movie. 

Pausing after one movie to order dinner in and eat, you settled back in, bellies full, this time putting on the first Santa Clause. Instead of sitting like you had before, this time you sat next to him, leaning into the same space. When his thumb dropped down to brush against your inner thigh part way through the movie you felt a buzz form low in your core that didn’t stem from the bottle of wine you’d shared with dinner. 

Jeff seemed to have no idea of what he was doing nor any idea the effect it was having on you. Yawning slightly, you murmured that you were going to go use his bathroom to shower if that was okay. You weren’t really paying attention to the movie anyway and you needed a moment to breathe. You’d thought that things with Jeff were different than they had been before Pittsburgh, but he hadn’t made a move or anything so maybe you were wrong. Either way there was no way you were going to stay sane with the pressure of his thumb against that part of your body. 

Tonight, when Jeff slid into bed beside you, you were going to keep some distance. As much as your body wanted to be close to his, it was for the best because there was no way you were going to make it through a week here with him if you didn’t, even if he was your best friend.

#jeff skinner imagine #Jeff Skinner #buffalo sabres #buffalo sabres imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #bsabres #010

[remmushound]

Bay/Rise 26!! Rise splinter = Yoshi and Bay splinter = Splinter. Today’s chapter is cut in half like yesterday’s, so expect another post later today! @brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 @selfindulgenz

“Not bad.” Once the fighting was over, Leo approached Leonardo with a nod. “Have to say, not what I was expecting.”

“I didn't do it for your approval.”

Leonardo brushed off Leo’s praise with a wave of his hand, walking away quickly before the box turtle could see his smile. He hurried quickly over to Raphael, the mutant’s jaw still slack as he looked around like a confused animal.

“Raph— Raph, hey bud chill!” Raphael snapped to look at Leonardo, giving a snarl before he recognized Leonardo and let the slider bring a hand to his pulsing neck. “They’re gone. It’s okay.”

“Why is he like that?” Raph approached cautiously, his brow creased in his confusion at the state of his counterpart.

“It’s fine— he’s fine! Just stay back, you’re gonna make his agitated. Give me a minute…” Leonardo rested his head against Raphael’s chest and stroked the turtle’s shell in comforting spirals as he started to hum the lullaby from their childhood.

Donatello put Michelangelo gently on the ground before the both of them hustled over to Mikey, who still in his shell with the sound of whimpering echoing from inside. Michelangelo frowned, but Donatello simply gave an amused hum as he knocked on the box turtles shell.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

The shell opened slightly. “Did we win?”

“Sure did, terrifying large Miguel. You wanna come out and join the celebration?”

Mikey’s nose poked out of his shell slowly, looking around before the rest of him popped out and he scrambled to his feet with a deep breath, leaning over on his knees to shake his head. “That was scary.”

“Mike!” Leo’s call sounded from across the room as he summoned his brother.

“Uh— I gotta.” Mikey pointed to his brothers.

“Oh, please do!” Donatello gave a bow and motioned Mikey through, “Don’t stop on our account.” Once Mikey was out of earshot, Donatello turned to Michelangelo, “You okay Mike?”

“Hm? I’m yeah, I’m fine!” Michelangelo’s voice was high-pitched and chipper, his smile almost genuine despite the horror that had just occurred. His eyes had a particular twinkle in them that Donatello had learned to recognize over years, and Michelangelo carried himself with a correct posture and high head that contradicted his usual relaxed state. “We have to check on Michelangelo though. He had a panic attack earlier on the rooftops and I’d like to do an in-depth analysis on his mental status to make sure he’s coping okay.”

The speech pattern confirmed Donatello’s suspicion. “Yeah— sounds great, Feelings. Do your thing.”

~~~

The whole way back to the lair, the turtles maintained almost no formation. For the first time since they’d met, they all mingled together more like a family than two separate units. Leo, of course, was in the lead while his counterpart took up the rear with Raphael, who was still going through the motions of bringing himself back down to earth. Leonardo was helping him keep his focus. Donatello had April on his battle shell, folded out into the seat built just for her, and the two of them were with Raph and Donnie. The Mikey’s stuck together almost like glue, though it was mostly Michelangelo who kept them together so he could watch Mikey’s every movement with an intense focus.

When they got back home, the Splinter’s were waiting for them at the entry tunnel. Yoshi separated from his conversation with the other rat to hurry forward with arms outstretched as he made grabby paws.

“April!”

“Splints!” April hopped down from Donatello’s shell and fell into Yoshi’s hugs, kneeling down to his height so the master could hug her to his chest and plant ticklish kisses on her forehead, rubbing his paw through the curls of her hair. “Aw, Splints! You’re okay!”

“Aaaand so is the city!” Donatello interrupted, flashing the orb pointedly with a proud smile. “Yes, yes, I know. Hold thy applause!”

“Purple!” Yoshi gave April one last kiss before he held his paws out to collect the orb. “Good work! But what happened to you, April? I— I couldn’t go after you, I—“

“Don’t worry, Splints!” April said, her face glowing despite her ordeal, “The doc said all the bleeding’s internal! That’s where the blood supposed to be!”

Yoshi narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been waiting to make that joke?”

“Way too long, Splinter! Way. Too. Long!”

Yoshi shook his head, then turned to his sons. “And my boys! Are you all alright?”

“No, we’re not.” Leonardo kneeled in front of Yoshi, “It was Draxum, dad. Draxum and the foot recruit they— they’re the ones that took April.”

“Draxum…?” For a moment, Yoshi’s eyes flashed with disbelief before anger took over the red pools. “I knew it! I knew that no good yokai would—“

“Dad.” Leonardo silenced Yoshi and pointed at Michelangelo.

Yoshi’s eyes immediately softened. “Oh… oh Orange…”

“I’m fine father!” Michelangelo chirped, giving his dad a happy squeeze.

“Father? Since when do you… oh.” Yoshi recognized quickly what was happening.

Michelangelo gave a happy giggle before walking off, his arms dancing at his side with each step. Yoshi’s eyes couldn’t help but follow him. Leo couldn't hide his curiosity any more, approaching Yoshi with a polite bow.

“Master, I must ask what the importance of the orb is.”

“You haven’t told him?” Yoshi looked to his sons and was met with three shrugs. He groaned and his ears went back as he shook his head. “This is a mystic orb in which the people of our New York were trapped.”

“Yooo how they all fit in there?” Mikey shoved his way in, squishing his face against Leo for a second before he was pushed away.

Yoshi’s expression changed quickly to an annoyed one. “It’s magic.”

“Yeah! Courtesy of dad’s crazy ex spider fiance.” Leonardo added.

“I DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS A SPIDER AT THE TIME!” Yoshi shoved Leonardo away.

“Your world is… very complicated.” Splinter cleared his throat.

“Tell me about it.” Yoshi huffed.

Splinter turned to the gathered ninja. “You boys should go rest. You too, April. You’ve been through a great ordeal.”

“Thanks! Uh… other Splinter?” April looked to Donatello, “Someone gon’ explain to me what’s happening here?”

“You can have a look at her stitches in my lab to make sure she didn't pull anything.” Donnie offered, “And so you can explain everything in private.”

“That’s great, but I don’t do that… stuff.” Donatello said, sticking out his tongue and waving a hand like he was flicking off germs.

Before Donnie could do anything but blank in sheer confusion, Leonardo took April in a bridal carry and took her toward Donnie’s lab.

“Someone say they need a medic?” Leonardo beamed

“My hero.” April rolled her eyes.

Donnie shook his head slowly as he gawked after them. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder…”

#Leo the medic! #Here comes Doctor Feelings! #she has a lot to do! #April has no idea Whats happening #but she’s enjoying herself

[ranmanjuu]

titled “shin shin”.txt

came across a post... a long, long while ago about a god of death type reader and got super interested, since of all the cyikemen games, ikesen is the one most surrounded by death on a larger scale (cause, war and stuff), so i wrote this at... 2020? almost one year before, at 21th of july. i had more of it written, but i really didn’t like it cause it felt too “quirky wattpad reader” and plus me just copying from the original prlogue without adding anything, so... yeah. enjoy!

(also, very important that anyone who wants to do whatever with this idea, feel free, no need to ask me)

You didn’t like your existence

To call it “your life” would be simply wrong; you don’t breathe, you don’t eat, you don’t sleep. All you are is a walking, talking existence that has a job to do until you fade away. You didn’t even like your job.

To lead a soul from their death to the Land of the Dead was a grim job. You learnt their regrets, their anger, their sadness, all which you knew was personal. But you had to be there. You had to ensure that their soul is at peace, so when the time comes to cross to the afterlife, they don’t get reincarnated as a ghost, stuck forever with their past emotions.

Shinigami, was your kinds’ name. God of Death.

You were a part of the blanket term ‘yokai’, or as some would call in other names such as ‘ayakashi’. Those who fall under the category were spirits, demons, animal-like creatures, or, similar to you, gods. For as long as you’ve known, supernatural creatures didn’t mesh with humans well most of the time.

Fear of unknown from both parties led to anger, rashness, and cut communication and involvement altogether for perhaps half your life.

You’ve existed for long; you stopped remembering the exact number after 1.000 years. All you did now was remember the year you came to the world, and do the math. But that doesn’t matter much, does it? The only thing you concerned yourself with is when you’ll fade away.

However, for your own sake, you do take a break. Such a job is heavy for the heart, and a walk doesn’t help as much, but it’s a nice thing nonetheless.

Kyoto. You were just done leading a soul that got caught in a traffic accident. You never traveled outside of the country, but would it really matter if you did? You still appreciated everything as it were; there has to be some light in a life to look forward to.

This particular city was rich in human history, you knew that. Maybe it’d be a fun thing to do, even if you didn’t have much an interest in it.

“All your famous warlord knowledge, packed in a mag! Come get one now!” A boy’s shouts filled the nearby streets, attracting attention from the occasional passerby’s. Including you. A Quick Guide To Your Warlords, the magazine read on the cover. Sounds interesting, and you were bored, so you took one and stuffed it in your pocket.

With a blank mind, you were brought forth to a temple by your wandering legs. Honno-ji. A small, quiet, quaint place. The setting sky burned up above as the small cries of the crickets sounded all around.

You’ve heard some stories of the small memorial in front of you. One of the unifiers of Japan died here—betrayed, as you remembered. But you can’t draw an exact name.

While drowning in your thoughts, the approaching presence coming to you was acknowledged but not paid mind to further. Until you shift your eyes to the side as said figure was in your peripheral vision—a man dressed in a lab coat. The two of you said no words, only continuing to gaze at the stone in front of you.

You only started to react when the sky above you turned darker and darker—not by the setting sun, but by the awfully black and almost purple clouds gathering up above you. That’s unusual, you’ve never seen anything like that in your life.

The once bright and bold sky now rained down drops of water on your face. You didn’t even notice you shifted to your human form—and a look at your hands covered in specks of droplets confirmed that.

“What poor timing.” The man next to you said, causing your eyes to glance at him. He looked solemnly to the monument, then to you, “Are you alright? Do you have an umbrella?”

“No, unfortunately. I didn’t expect it to rain. . .” your eyes linger to above his head, where a set of numbers and a small text was visible to you only. The death profile, as the others call. A set of information that shinigamis can see in most creatures, usually entailing their names, time of death, and cause of it.

It’s a cursing bit of information; always reminding you of what you are.

Out of nowhere, a thunder ripped through the clouds and hit directly on the small monument—a loud crackle following along. Your arm flew up to protect the man next to you by reflex, as your body stood there in momentary shock. You’ve seen death by  lightning, but that was unlikely to happen now.

You whipped your head towards the human next to you, who seems the slightest bit appalled, but stood his ground. A strange thing catches your attention. . .

His death date. It’s flickering—changing.

From a century where he was supposed to die. . .to the 15-16th century.

A date of death changing has been a rare thing that happens, however unlikely, but—it’s never jumped that far before! To the past, too?

Utter shock froze you in place as the numbers flicker back and forth, leading your attention away from everything else—him asking you if you were okay, and most importantly—

—the black ball that formed where the stone was.

“Watch ou—“ before you can warn the man, the image of him next to you twisted and distorted, slowly getting sucked in whatever it was.

And so were you.

Wait! He isn’t supposed to die yet—!

The world faded to black.

       Ugh. . .my head. . .

Your vision fades in and out, clear then blurry, until you’re finally wide awake. The scenery around you changed drastically, what was first a small place in the city of Kyoto is now. . .a dark forest. You’ve seen this kind of environment before in your memories—you just don’t know how you got here.

The lab coat guy—!

You immediately stood up from the dirt beneath you, looking around and trying to sense his soul around you. Nothing. Pursing your lips in slight unease, you started making your way through the criminally underlighted woods.

You’ve roamed around in the forest before. Most of your time on this world, you didn’t settle in a house or anything, you preferred to just wander around like a lost ghost. You didn’t have a need for one—you don’t need shelter, not food, not clothes, nor drinks. You were a lost ghost.

The branches and rocks and whatever else you tripped on didn’t bother you. All you were focusing on is now just. . .walking. Without even a set destination. The only guidance you had was the occasional moonlight that peeked through the trees up above.

As minutes pass by, you start feeling a faint presence of human souls.

It’s distant, and not much from how weak it is, but I should go and see.

All other senses were rendered useless for now as you focused on the source of the souls, and slowly marched your way to it. It grew closer and closer, until you saw a faint light coming in the middle of the forest.

Two people, you now concluded. Your footsteps remained silent and your presence unknown as you creep near the light.

A fire was set in a small clearing, and you can now see the two people. A man with dark hair, dressed in monk’s clothes and a scar marking his face, with another feminime-looking boy, purple-haired in armor.

“Are you ready for this, Ranmaru?” The monk spoke in a low voice. “You’re about to kill the demon. Bring him down for good.”

Kill, huh. An assassination was about to commence.

“. . .Yes, Master Kennyo.” The boy—Ranmaru—spoke, wavering in unease but still tried to be certain.

‘Master Kennyo’ smiled; a bitter, unresting one, “Good. They’ve light the fire at Honno-ji, arrive there and kill him. I will follow shortly once the fire has spread,”

“. . .Understood.”

Clutching his sword until it shook in his hand, Ranmaru turned around and walked off from the clearing.

You overheard the conversation and calmly watched his figure fade away. It isn’t your place to intervene—not if this is fate, but even so—you’ll follow him. At least you can rest the soul of the victim.

In silent steps trailing him, you heard a last piece from Kennyo. “Finally, we’ll have our revenge. . .”

      You took your time in following Ranmaru’s path. If whoever’s assassinated dies, it’s soul will still remain until they can go to the afterlife. Time stops for them as long as it takes to get their soul guided away from the living land. Is it immoral in a way? Perhaps.

Unless. . .you can stop them from getting killed. But often when you try to intervene, the death happens either way.

So what’s the point?

Nihilistic thoughts aside, you sensed more human souls coming your way; five, from what you can tell. But you paid no mind to that. Until it got nearer, and nearer, and nearer, and—

“Oof.” In your blank stated mind, you bumped into someone, causing them to huff in surprise. You yourself paused and looked—a brown haired man wearing red armor, “Hey, watch where you’re going—!”

His complaints died on his tongue as soon as he finally saw who he bumped into. His expression, from a slightly irritated frown, turned more into one of confusion, “Huh? Hey, what’s someone like you doing here in the woods? Nighttime, also? Such weird clothing, too. . .”

His spoken words made you raise an eyebrow, “Ignoring all that, I’m sorry for bumping into you. I just had some business is all.”

“In the dead of night? What are you, an. . .enchantress? Those stories of w-witches in the forest?” The man’s voice wavered more with each passing word. The quirk in your eyebrow deepens.

“I assure you, I’m not—“

“Yuki~! We leave you for a few seconds and you’ve already found yourself a partner?” A velvet and rich voice arose from behind the dark bushes and trees, all of them being pushed aside to reveal an auburn haired man, this one more built in his body.

The one you’ve been talking to—Yuki—blushed and shook his head vehemently, “Ugh, no! I’m not like you; we just bumped into each other is all. And I think it’s some kind of witch, too—”

The redhead man tutted at Yuki in a disapproving manner, “Now, now, Yuki. Have I not taught you how to talk properly in front of such a beauty all this time?” His attention turns to you, and in a second, his eyes lit in passion, “Forgive me for his prudeness, my goddess, dear Yuki needs a lot more lessons than I thought. However. . .if you want to be with a real man, I’m always up for service.”

“Will you stop flirting with everything you meet. It’s disgusting.”

Three more people emerge from the shadows, the small bits of moonlight pouring to their features. The one who spoke was a blond one, cladded in blue armor and with eyes that said he wanted to have nothing to do with any of this.

“But Kenshin, you can’t just turn away at such a beauty laid in front of your eyes.” The flirt replied to the cold comment with a smirk.

“Stop. Or I’ll kill you.”

The bickering of the two were left unnoticed as another man with dark blue hair stepped up, far closer than what you were expecting. His hand reaches and caresses lightly on your clothes, “I have never seen such a design or material like this before. How fascinating. Would you like to switch with one of my kimonos?”

“Yoshimoto, I’ve already claimed them! Don’t steal them right under my nose.” Flirt Man threw a light complaint, turning away from Kenshin for a moment.

“Art is to be appreciated by everyone, Shingen.” Yoshimoto simply responds, now tugging lightly at the sleeves of your shirt.

Okay, you’ll admit it. You’re slightly overwhelmed.

So far, you haven’t said anything, mainly because you don’t want to. It feels like anything you say won’t make the situation better anyway. But still. . .even in your long life, this is quite bizzare.

You observed each of them one by one. Then your eyes landed to the last one, the same brown haired man you saw earlier. Now, in. . .some sort of ninja attire. While you tilted your head in slight curiosity, you’re at least satisfied to see he was safe.

And his death date has changed, too. . .

Speaking of death, you’re finally reminded of following. . .who was it, Ranmaru? to an assassination.

Gently freeing yourself from Yoshimoto’s admiring touches to your clothes, you bowed slightly in front of them, “I appreciate meeting all of you, but I have to go.”

You don’t see Sasuke opening his mouth to say something, and neither do the others, as you walked off to the darkness.

       You thought by losing your way from your unofficial guide, you wouldn’t find the destination. But luckily, even going in the same direction as he did led you to it. Honno-ji. This time, it’s in the midst of drowning in fire. You made your way through the front door and entered where the fire wouldn’t reach you—but it wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

And in the middle of the room not yet entirely covered in flames, was who you assume the victim, sleeping. The cause of death, “died in an assassination while the building was set on fire”, said as much. Dressed in black armor, you could tell he was important, somehow. Not everyone can casually wear one, despite the past few people you’ve met been donning it.

The text displayed above the man’s head displayed the same old. Nobunaga Oda.

On the other side, you see a silhouette approaching steadily, sword in hand. Ranmaru, you guessed. You double checked yourself to make sure you weren’t visible to the human’s eye, and you were just fine with watching another death as you have—

Until, for the second time today, the death date for Nobunaga Oda flickered.

You froze as what was 21st of July, 1582, blinked into a later date. Much later.

What. . .?! That was the second time today—what am I supposed to—

Your chest felt heavy, and your hands trembled in uncertainty of what you should do. Do you save him? Watch him die? Would he even die at this moment? Or would it be later? You’ve never been in this position—the answer was always clear. And now you’re terrified.

Your body swayed back and forth violently, as two sides fought in your head of what to do. But time was running out—he’d be assassinated if you didn’t take this chance. And he’d die. That’s the same as you killing him, you thought, and you’ve sworn to never do such a thing.

From your disarrayed thoughts, your legs moved on their own and walked to him. You’re saving him, then.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #cyikemen #*writing #scenario #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen ranmaru #ikesen kennyo #ikesen sasuke #ikesen yuki #ikesen shingen #ikesen kenshin #ikesen yoshimoto

[symphonic-scream]

Okay so here's the summary of what happens in the first section of the ML Genshin au. If you're overly familiar with the lore of the game itself sorry in advance cause things are gonna be different. It's a mix of wanted to incorporate new ideas and I don't remember everything exactly lmao

This of course contains Spoilers for the first three Archon quests in Genshin Impact :) so there you've been warned. Also warning: long post. I'm sorry

--

So the story starts with two travelers soaring through the skies, visiting world after world as they go. However their journey is cut short when they encounter a strange god in the heavens above one such world

The travelers hold out against her for as long as they can, but she gets the upper hand, capturing one of the two travelers. She seals away the powers of the other, trapping him in this world

Some time passes. Our traveler has spent his time trying to survive in the wild in this new world, and has now fished a strange creature up out of the sea. Some floating cat thing, that insists he's not a cat. He calls himself Plagg

Our traveler is blond, with striking green eyes. His outfit is very strange, looking kinda like,, a thick leather armour type stuff but softer. There are dark stars on his shoulders, wrists, on the belt, and in the centre of his chest, and his shirt cuts off at the base of his ribs. Pants are much the same, boots ending just below the knees, and he's got some fancy golden gloves and padding on the knees

The traveler explains what he remembers of his story to Plagg, introducing himself as Adrien. He's not of this world, and he's going to find his identical cousin Felix, who was taken by a strange god, no matter what it takes

Plagg decides to be his guide in this world, which he calls Teyvat, and agrees to help him find the god and his cousin. He explains that Teyvat is divided into seven Nations, each under the rule of one of seven gods called Archons, collectively "the Seven". The land they're in now is called Mondstadt, the nation belonging to the Archon of freedom. And Anemo, the element of wind

Plagg leads Adrien into a small valley, a statue resting in the middle of a small lake right in the centre. The guide calls it a Statue of the seven, this one modeled after Barbatos, the name used for the Anemo Archon. Plagg believes there's a chance the strange god could be one of the seven, so perhaps praying to the statue may give them some answers

However when Adrien gets close, he's infused with a strange power. He now has control over Anemo

This is odd to Plagg because in Teyvat, only humans with something called a vision can use elemental abilities. Visions are gifts from the Archons, used to show who has earned their favour through what's usually some inhuman feat or something like that I guess

The statue left more questions than answers, so Plagg decides they should try to find the god in person in the City of Mondstadt. However on their way to the forest that will lead to the city, a dragon flies overhead

Plagg decides a dragon is too much work to deal with and suggests they turn back, cause maybe your cousin will show up on his own- wait - hey come back here-

Adrien marches on, interested in meeting a dragon. He walks carefully through the trees, stopping short when he spots the dragon and a shorter figure

The person slowly approaching the dragon has their back to Adrien, with pinkish-red hair, wearing a somewhat fancy looking grey hooded jacket, black high boots, and dark cyan trousers. On their left shoulder, attached to their lapel, is a spring green/seafoam?? Kinda? Idk- coloured gem

Their hand is outstretched towards the dragon, who growls lowly as the figure shushes them. Adrien leans in to see better, snapping a twig beneath his boots. At the sudden noise the dragon shoots off into the sky, flying off. The figure whips around to face Adrien, summoning a sword from thin air (vision users can just do this?? There's really no explanation that I've cared to read haha). The figure turns and runs off into the woods after staring at Adrien for a moment

Adrien and Plagg continue on their way through the woods, coming out the other end with no other issues. Once they exit the forest, a woman is calling for their attention

She's dressed in for the outdoors, emerald kinda green overalls that are cut like shorts, white,, idk kinda like tights but thicker?? And brown boots, the same colour as the pretty much useless belt around her waist, where a bright green gem and little pouches rest. Under the overalls is a navy collared shirt, soft fabric, button open at the top, a brown half jacket (cut like a crop top) open over it. Dark hair in two pigtails, bright blue eyes

She introduces herself as Marinette, an adventurer assisting the Knights of Favonius, who protect the city, with keeping monsters at bay from the city. She asks Adrien what he and his, cat? ("IM NOT A CAT!") Are doing outside the city, and he tells her he's looking for his cousin, and maybe Barbatos

Marinette explains that they haven't heard from their god in years, and only recently have they gotten any sign that the Archon actually exists, with the first Anemo vision to be given out in ages and the dragon attacks

Adrien helps her clear out a little monster camp before they head into the city, with Marinette planning on taking Adrien to see the Acting Grand Master to see if she can help

But OH NO DRAGON ATTACK. Adrien hears a voice and suddenly he's got boosted abilities, flying (using a wind glider) up with the dragon, chasing it away from the city by blasting it with Anemo energy

When he lands Marinette asks him what the hell he just did, and someone else steps in, claiming they were about to say the same thing. This woman has orange cat ears sticking out of bobbed orange hair, and is wearing glasses over teal eyes

She's got a simple, dark blue jacket on over a light blue collared shirt, a brown vest between the two. Dark pants, tall metallic, silver boots, a small kinda waist cape?? Idk what they are but she's got one and it's white and furred. A pale baby blue vision hangs from the side of her belt

This is Sabrina, one of the Captains with the knights, Marinette explains. Sabrina escorts the two of them to the headquarters of the knights, claiming the Acting Grand Master wants to speak with them

The Acting Grand Master has long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and tired blue eyes. She wears a long dark coat, an orangey brown vision just off the right shoulder. Under the jacket is a dark brown, thick blouse and vest combo. Her pants are a pale brown, and her boots are the same as Sabrina's. Her clothing looks rather lavish

The Acting Grand Master, Chloe, she insists they call her, listens to Adrien's tale. She explains she can help once things calm down with the whole dragon thing. He wants to help, but she can't just let him in for liability reasons and strikes a deal. If he can locate the one citizen that didn't check in and confirm their health after the attack, he earns honorary knight status

The knights and adventurers head out to seek out the temples of three of the four winds while Adrien and Plagg look for this missing person. They follow traces of Anemo energy, leading them to the roof of the knights headquarters where they come face to face with the figure from the woods, the missing citizen

The citizen attempts to run, but they stop her and say the knights are looking for her. The figure cautiously introduces herself as Alix Kubdel, watching the duo cautiously

Plagg speaks first breaking the silence, asking her about what she was doing with the dragon. You know, the dragon that attacked the city? Got an explanation for that?

Alix hesitates but explains that she was trying to calm down the dragon, bond with it. When asked why, she finally explains that she's the New Anemo Archon, and she's still getting used to what she has to do

New? What do you mean new? Plagg kinda hounds at her, Adrien apologizes, and Alix says the last Archon died, and she was eventually chosen as a replacement

By now the knights are returning from the temples and Adrien takes Alix in to talk with Chloe to convince her that they don't need to kill "Stormterror", the name given to the dragon by the city. Alix corrects them, stating his name is Dvalin

Alix has to reveal to Chloe as well that she's the new Archon in order to convince her to let them try Alix's "bonding plan", and they set into action. The group sets off for the lair of the dragon, to confront him headon

Adrien fights the dragon the same way as before, realizing Alix was the one that gave him the ability to do the funky blasting and flying, and then they've got him weak enough that Adrien can do some weird otherworldly healing thing on him

Apparently the dragon was poisoned by the monsters from the Abyss, and was under their orders. Without the aid of the Archon he couldn't fight it, but now that he's met the new Archon, Alix, all is great and dandy and they have a fun chat

They all head back to the city to celebrate, but they're ambushed by a group called the Fatui from one of the other nations, Schnezneya. During the ambush a woman known as Signora, one of the Harbingers who executes the will of the Cryo Archon, gets a hold of Alix

She snatches something called a gnosis from her, leaving her weak on the ground as they flee. The gnosis, uh, it holds like,, uh, the godly powers of an Archon? It's what makes em an Archon I guess? Sorta? Anyways Alix's was stolen so she doesn't have it now

And that's pretty much it. Alix goes to heal at this big ass tree and advises Adrien fo go check out the next nation, Liyue, and their Archon Morax, to see about his cousin and thats it

Adrien would do other stuff before leaving including meeting two Alchemists and helping them explore a mountain, assisting the two owners of the Harmony Tavern with some bullshit and all that but yeah

This is a very condensed version, of the events, but anymore detail and this would be that much longer lmao

If you have any questions comments complaints or whatever let me know. Sorry this was long I tried to condense it as best I could,

#ml genshin au #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #ml #alix kubdel #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix #marinette dupen chang #long post

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Homesick

Zuko x reader

Summary: You are feeling really homesick and Zuko tries to help you feel better. Super Fluffy!

Requested?: Nope

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

A/n: This is my first Avatar: The Last Airbender fic, I hope y'all enjoy it!!!

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Zuko asked, giving you a hug from behind. You smiled at your reflection in the turtle duck pond, but your smile faded quickly.

   “I just miss home,” you muttered.

   It had been a few years since you and your friends had ended the war and you hadn’t been back to the Northern Watertribe in forever. You just never had the time and you were always so busy. Of course you loved the Fire Nation and Zuko, but you really missed the snow.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko apologized.

You smiled sadly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe we can plan something?” Zuko offered and your smile came back.

“I’d like that,” you said, leaning into him.

Unbeknownst to you Zuko had already noticed your homesickness. He had noticed how you were eating a ton of Watertribe dishes and how you would wake up super early just to be able to water bend under the moon. He had also noticed how many hawks you and Katara were sending each other. So, he had sent a hawk of his own.

~~~~

“Katara! Aang! What are you doing here?!” You asked, helping the couple down from Appa.

“Zuko asked us to visit,” Sokka explained, sliding off Appa.

“Really?!” You exclaimed, giving your husband a tight hug.

Zuko smiled at you and you gave him a quick kiss. “So what do you guys want to do?” You asked, turning back to your friends.

“Why don’t we explore the city?” Katara suggested.

You nodded. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“Well, there’s only so much time in a day, so let's get moving people,” Sokka prompted, leading you out of the palace.

The rest of the day was wonderful, you went shopping and for lunch had a picnic outside the city on the mountains that surrounded your home. After that the rest of the day was spent swimming.

You laughed as Sokka jumped in, splashing everyone.

“Oh, you're on!” Katara yelled. The two of you began bending and a wave splashed down on Sokka.

“No fair,” Sokka pouted while you and Katara giggled. Sokka turned to Zuko and Aang. “A little help here?”

Zuko shrugged. “What do you want me to do? I’m a fire bender.”

“Aang?” Sokka begged.

“Y/n and Katara are masters, I don’t know if I want to get on their bad side.”

Katara smiled. “Wise choice.”

“Fine, fine. I give up,” Sokka said, slowly sinking underwater. You glanced at Katara and the two of you burst out laughing.

“Surfing?” You suggest and she nodded. The two of you swam back to the beach and created ice boards. Then the two of you jumped into the waves you had created.

~~Zuko’s POV~~

It made Zuko happy to see you enjoying yourself. You had spent a lot more time with the group than him and he could easily see how happy you were to see your friends.

He watched you and Katara made waves and surfed them. The smile on your face was contagious and so Zuko found himself smiling as well.

He only watched for a little longer before getting up. He had work to do. Getting the Gaang to come was only part of your surprise and he had to prepare the other.

Just thinking about how happy it would make you made him giddy. He could only imagine how excited you were going to be when you saw the other half of your surprise.

~~Your POV~~

When you saw Zuko leave, you were a little sad, but you understood he had Fire Lord stuff to work on. Even when he took the day off there was still work to do. You loved how dedicated he was to fixing the Fire Nation.

After surfing you and Katara went to help Suki build a sand castle. Of course sand castle building became a contest. You, Katara, Toph, and Suki versus Sokka and Aang.

“You know I don’t think four versus two is all that fair,” Aang said as you were putting the finishing touches on your to scale statues of the Gaang

You looked over to see their scale replica of Appa. It wasn’t as detailed as yours, but you could see the work they put into it. Aang had even added a little Momo.

“Yeah, you have Toph and one of our team members is missing,” Sokka pointed out and you realized that Zuko still hadn’t come back.

“Speaking of Zuko maybe we should go looking for him,” you suggested.

Sokka stood up and brushed the sand off himself. “Yeah, he can be the judge, though it’s pretty obvious who won.” Just as he said that the sand Momo fell off and Sokka rushed to fix it.

You giggled. “It’s getting late anyways.”

The six of you made your way to the palace and you changed out of your swimsuit. After, you sent someone to find Zuko while you and the rest of your friends went to the dining room.

You all sat down and began to chat. Aang talked a lot about how he and Zuko were planning on making a city that didn’t have one nation attached to it. Sokka and Katara talked about the rebuilding of the Southern Watertribe. It was so exciting to hear what your friends were doing.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zuko said, rushing into the dining room. He kissed your forehead before sitting down.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.  

He smiled brightly. “Everything’s perfect.”

Satisfied with that answer you all began to eat and soon enough it was over.

“Let’s walk down to the beach to see the sand sculptures,” Sokka suggested and you smiled.

“Sure and after that why don’t we show you the turtle ducks?” You suggested. “There are some turtle ducklings now.”

“Aww!” Katara and Suki exclaimed. You all walked down to the beach and watched the sunset. There was nothing quite like the sunset in the Firenation. Reds, pinks, yellows, and oranges were painted across the sky. It was one of the things you loved most about the Fire Nation, besides Zuko of course.

The sun was making its last attempt at light when you arrived at the beach only to see the tide had taken your sculptures.

Sokka pouted a little and Suki consoled him. “Well, I’m sure they were beautiful,” Zuko said and you beamed at him.

“Let’s go see the turtle-ducks now,” you said, grabbing Zuko’s hand.

The stars were out as you all sat down on blankets. You hugged Zuko knowing that he had probably sent the blankets out here earlier. He knew one of your favorite things to do was to sit under the stars by the turtle duck-pond.

It was just like old times as you talked. Though of course you didn’t have the threat of imminent danger over your head.

You couldn't believe how wonderful the day had been and the gaang was staying for a week so Aang and Zuko could plan for their city. You were excited to get to spend so much time with your friends. You didn’t know how the week could get any better.

You laughed with your friends as Zuko stood up and went to talk to a guard. You assumed he was requesting food or something, but you were very surprised when a polar bear puppy came running at you. It jumped into your arms and began to lick you.

You looked to Zuko, confused. “What’s going on?”

“Surprise!” He yelled and you suddenly understood what was going on.

You held the puppy in one arm and squeezed Zuko with the other. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You exclaimed. You set the puppy in your lap and began to stroke him.

Zuko chuckled. “I’m glad you like him. I noticed how sad you were and when I decided to ask everyone to come, I asked Katara to bring him.”

“You guys! I’m gonna cry!” You sniffed, but you were smiling brightly.

“What are you going to name him?” Katara asked and you began to examine the puppy.

You watched as he tumbled out of your lap and padded over to the turtle ducks. For a second you thought he would jump in with the ducklings, but he settled for admiring them.

One came over to him and you went to grab him before the mother could get mad, but she seemed to take a liking to your puppy. It was a cute sight watching them interact.

“What about Turtle Duck?” Sokka suggested.

“What kind of name is Turtle duck?” Katara asked.

You smiled. “Actually, I kinda like it. We can call him Turtle for short.

“Aww! Hello Turtle,” Aang cooed as he stroked Turtle’s ears.

You turned to Zuko. “Thank you so much. This means the world to me.”

“I’m glad, it’s great to see you so happy.” Zuko put an arm around your shoulder and the two of you looked down at the bundle of joy that was now squirming in your lap.

Turtle yawned and curled up into your lap. You and Zuko both stroked him as you spent the rest of the night, enjoying yourselves with your friends.

****

Tada! I really enjoyed writing this and I hope y'all liked it. I hope y'all have a beautiful and safe day/night.

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