#he really do be getting the short end of the stick here

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

when you and jj first get together, he really makes an effort to impress you. the boy doesn’t have much to give, having grown up with the shirt on his back and not much else, but he’s eager to make you feel special. he’s no stranger to women, being a pretty hot commodity for pogue girls and tourists but he never sticks around long enough for anything to be considered serious. he’s a free spirit at heart, and before he took interest in you, that boy couldn’t be tied down. your first date was one to remember, the only warning beforehand being a cryptic text saying: “meet me at the dock at 6?”

you’re ecstatic, even though he didn’t explicitly say it’s a date, you’re hoping it will be. you’re something of a hopeless romantic, and your growing crush on maybank was driving you crazy. you put on a pretty sundress, curl your hair into messy coils and pack one of your crocheted shoulder bag with your wallet and emergency lip gloss.

you get there right on time, the sun just starting to set over the marsh. you shuffle nervously to the end of the dock, where you find jj leaning over the wooden railing.

“jayj?” your voice is soft, trying not to startle him. he turns his head and his body follows, but before he can greet you he’s taken in by your dress, his blue eyes transfixed on it’s short frilly skirt. he’s in his usual garb, a white tee and cargo shorts, which you still find very charming. you blink up at him shyly, not knowing why you’re so nervous, after all it’s just jj.

“uh—hey!” he lifts his baseball cap, running his hand through his hair as he tries to keep his eyes on yours. “whatcha all dressed up for?”

“oh, i dunno. was just excited to get out of the house, i guess.” your cheeks heat up, suddenly concerned that you misread the situation entirely.

he nods. “i’m glad you did. y’look very nice.” he lets his eyes linger on your dress a second longer before he clears his throat and reaches for your hand. “would you.. be interested in an exclusive boat tour of this here marsh on the hms pogue?”

you slip your hand into his, tilting your head curiously. “ooo — i’d be honored.” he starts to lead you down the wooden ramp to where the boat is floating against the dock, and once it comes into view your sweet smile turns into surprise.

he spread out a picnic blanket over the front of the boat, and a big bowl of fruit, two subs from haywards, and an empty beer can stuffed with wildflowers sits in the center. you just feel warm, relieved that clearly your feelings are mutual, and this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. “oh — jj!” you jump into his arms, hugging him tight. “this is beautiful, you planned all of this?”

as you pull away to admire the boat again, his touch lingers on your waist, still holding you close. “‘course i did, cupcake. you like it?”

you huddle close to his side again, looking up at him with anticipation. “do i like it? i love it! this is amazing.”

“well, i’m glad.” jj smiles down at you before clearing his throat, getting flustered already. “c’mere, we should get out there while the sun’s still setting.” he takes hold of your hand, adjusting his hat again in an attempt to hide his rosy face. he helps you onto the boat, where you sit atop the blanket to admire the flowers he picked while he drives you out into the marsh.

the two of you fill the hot summer air with giggles over the roaring motor, but eventually the boat sputters to a stop at a nice clearing. the yellow and orange clouds paint over the still water beautifully, and singsonging birds chirp in the distance. the scene before you looks like something out of your favorite romance movies. jj makes his way to the bow, making sure the anchor is set.

“dig in, you don’t gotta wait on me.” he laughs and finally settles down next to you, popping a strawberry into his mouth casually. he gestures to the sandwiches, eyebrows creased in slight concern. “said you like italian, right?”

“oh yeah — who doesn’t?” you smile, helping yourself to some of the fruit too. “this is all so sweet, jayj. really.”

he waves a hand in the air, brushing it off. “well shucks, you’re sweet, cupcake.” he can’t keep his eyes off of you, between how your skin is glowing in the low sunlight, your dress, hair, lips — he can barely handle it. “y’deserve it, a girl like you’s once in a lifetime.”

you blink at him, his compliments going right to your burning cheeks. “you really think that?”

“you kidding? of course i do.” he rubs his jaw, shrugging like it’s obvious as he leans forward. “m’just lucky enough to be here with you.”

“jayj.” you lean on your arm, tilting your head as you stare back at him. you lick your glossy lips, and he feels like you can read his mind. your mind is spinning, heart racing as he moves closer, reaching gently to tuck your hair behind your ear. you lean into his palm, letting him guide you into a soft first kiss.

˚❀˚

#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚. #jj maybank #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj headcanon #jj maybank drabble #jj drabble

[hp-hcs]

• smut • aurora boy-realis (stop talking) — soft! tom riddle x gn! artist! reader

warnings: SMUT MDNI, no assigned sex-specific identifiers or anatomical terms, short and not really detailed smut but wtv, hella ooc tom for my delulu readers, like i cannot stress this enough he is ooc, i took canon and just chucked it into the garbage okay

i have had this sitting in my drafts, finished and ready to publish, for the last week now bc the imposter syndrome lowkey convinced me that i’m a terrible writer so anywhore enjoy this train wreck

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Don’t move.”

Tom froze.

Your charcoal stick moved in broad strokes against the page, your eyes darting between Tom and your sketchbook.

“…Can I move yet?”

“No. Stop talking.”

You were probably the only person who could actually get away with telling Tom Riddle to shut up.

(He’d never admit it, but that boy knew damn well that he was whipped.)

~~~

Your charcoal-stained hands left dusty black marks on Tom’s skin.

His chest heaved under you. “Damn tease.”

“Stop talking.” Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, a spare pencil held between your teeth as you used his torso as a makeshift table for your sketchbook.

He wiggled impatiently as his fingers tightened on your hips. “Baby, please–”

You grunted, taking in a shaky breath as you tried to collect yourself from his sudden movement.

He grinned slyly at your reaction, jerking his hips up experimentally. His cock pressed in deeper.

You bit your bottom lip hard enough to bleed as you desperately tried to stifle your moans and keep yourself steady. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Tom gently pulled your sketchbook and pencil from your fingers, leaning over to carefully set them on the nightstand. “But you don’t really mind, do you, love?”

You grumble at the loss of your art supplies, pouting down at him. “Sometimes.”

He cupped the back of your head, gently rolling the pair of you over so that he was on top. “I’ll make it up to you.”

~~~

“Tom!”

“That’s it, there you go, honey. So good for me,” the boy in question murmured against the skin of your neck as his fingers slipped down to help you out.

His thrusts were slow and deep, driving you absolutely crazy. You couldn’t help but cup his face in your hands, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs in utter devotion.

“Oh, Tom—”

“I’m here, darling. Let go.”

You came with another cry of his name.

~~~

Your paintbrush ran over the thin, raised pink lines that traveled across Tom’s back and shoulders—caused by your own fingernails just last night—and covered them with a thick coat of purple.

You were in your element here, circling around your boyfriend and chewing on your bottom lip as you worked on your masterpiece. You paused in front of him to survey your chef-d’oeuvre, smudging the lines of green and white that ran along his ribs and up between his pecs with your thumb a bit more until you were satisfied.

Tom stood shirtless in front of you, his entire torso—from the top of his neck all the way down to the waistband of his trousers—covered in a beautiful artistic rendition of the Aurora Borealis flickering across a starry sky.

You picked up your enchanted camera, lining up the shot before snapping a magical moving photograph of your boyfriend patiently allowing himself to be used as a canvas.

You set the camera back down, screwing on the lids of your paint jars and humming cheerily.

“Right. Well, you can go wash up now. Thank you, love.” You kissed his cheek, unperturbed.

Tom was baffled. Wash off this masterpiece? Destroy it like it was nothing?

“At least join me?” he asked with that damn pout of his that could make you melt on the spot.

Tom could always do that. He was your sun, your moon, and your stars; you’d gladly move the heavens just to see him smile.

(Plus, showers with Tom always ended in sex. Win-win.)

~~~

Blues and purples swirled in the water that pooled at your feet.

Pinks and greens stained your hips, your thighs, your throat.

Tom’s lips were pressed firmly against yours, moving slowly as the steady flow of water pouring down on the pair of you slowly grew cold. Tom pulled back solely so that he could look at you, taking you in.

Tom looked at you as if you were his sun, the very thing his entire world revolved around.

Like a deity, deserving of the entire galaxy’s devotion.

So, without another thought, Tom did what any sane mortal man would. He dropped down to his knees and began to pray.

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x male reader #tom riddle smut

[t3ag3rs]

Hii!!! I hope youre doing well. I loved your last bakugo hcs! Could u do a part 2 of younger! s/o x bakugou?

help ykw so funny this is based of delusions of my crush whose also my moms friends son and a yr older than me.... but yes ofc 😋 (even tho i havent updated my actual fanfic in more than a week...) ITS A SHORT ONE YALL IVE BEEN REAL BUSY WITH PROJECTS THESE PAST COUPLE WEEKS

the next encounter you have with bakugou is when his mom invites you and a couple of close work friends over to their house.

you walk in and head upstairs to see the other kids only to find them in the theatre room watching Spiderman.

you awkwardly sit at the opposite end of bakugou and who you guessed was his baby cousin on his lap.

after about 30 minutes you start getting bored so ofc ur eyes start traveling to the other side...

that views better than the movie anyways.

"hey shortcakes... wanna play cards with the kids?" asks bakugou as he stands up grabbing his cousin.

"yeah we can" you smile sitting down on the floor in a circle next to his cousin. "hey there.. whats your name?" you inquire to the kid as bakugou goes to find the cards.

"tobio" (bear w me😭🙏) he states smiling, you grin before leaning to him, "hey you should really tell bakugou that you like me better.."

"okay" he giggles before shuffling next to you as you hear footsteps approach. "tobio- you like me better right..???" You chuckle.

"wayyyy better" he replies looking at bakugou, "suit yourself bud.. just know that means your not getting to play on my phone anymore" chortles the other male showing off his phone.

you slap his arm, "hey! thats leverage! not allowed!" you exclaim, "yeah..! What she said!" adds tobio looking at you.

"tobio youre supposed to be on my side here! I'm your cousin!" bakugou says defensively.

you stick your tongue out in response with a playfully grin as you hug tobio. "hes mine now old man..!" you laugh.

all that could be heard from downstairs was the sound of pure laughter from you and bakugou.

"dont start stealing my stuff shortcakes.." he grins at you as he stretches and slumps his body weight on to your side. you grunt as you shove him off, "get off you big back..!"

only to which you were suffocated by his weight again.

"MITSUK-!!" you start before bakugou places his hand over your mouth. you stare up at him wide eyed with a slight blush dusting your cheeks.

"how bout you dont kay shortcakes?" he asks with a devilish smirk.

well fuck. there goes your sanity.

#mha #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #kacchan #kacchan bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha bakugou #boku no hero academia #bhna x reader #bhna #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #bakugou bnha #bakugou headcanons #katsuki x reader #katsuki headcanons #t3ag3rs

[moodsandtenses]

Dracula's Guest: in which a business trip gets off to a rough start

Welcome back to Dracula Daily season! If you want to kick things off a little early this year, why not treat yourself to a read-through of Dracula’s Guest? Originally a cut first chapter of the novel and later published as a separate short story, it takes place today on April 30, also known as Walpurgis Nacht. The whole thing’s available here, thanks to Project Gutenberg.

Some further discussion of this absolute wild ride of a not-quite-canon side trip below:

Dracula’s patented “when in doubt, address the problem with Wolves” strategy gets off to an early start

We join Dracula’s guest - unnamed in the story, but pretty obviously Rough Draft Jonathan Harker - in Munich, on the first leg of his business trip to Transylvania. If this had been part of the finished book, it would have really front-loaded the tension, giving Jonathan a whole Vampire Sidequest to get involved in before he even gets to Transylvania. A few fun facts worth noting here: 

The Dracula Daily community has done a lot to rehabilitate Jonathan Harker’s reputation, restoring his place as a courageous, resourceful vampire hunter and countering the pop-culture image of him as a clueless naif that’s persisted since the early film adaptations. Rough Draft Jonathan, meanwhile…well, he really is a whole lot more Like That. The whole first chunk of “Dracula’s Guest” mostly consists of him cheerfully ignoring a SPECTACULAR parade of red flags: 

Whereupon he burst out into a long story in German and English, so mixed up that I could not quite understand exactly what he said, but roughly I gathered that long ago, hundreds of years, men had died there and been buried in their graves; and sounds were heard under the clay, and when the graves were opened, men and women were found rosy with life, and their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to save their lives (aye, and their souls!—and here he crossed himself) those who were left fled away to other places, where the living lived, and the dead were dead and not—not something. He was evidently afraid to speak the last words. As he proceeded with his narration, he grew more and more excited. It seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him, and he ended in a perfect paroxysm of fear—white-faced, perspiring, trembling and looking round him, as if expecting that some dreadful presence would manifest itself there in the bright sunshine on the open plain. Finally, in an agony of desperation, he cried: “Walpurgis nacht!” and pointed to the carriage for me to get in. All my English blood rose at this, and, standing back, I said: “You are afraid, Johann—you are afraid. Go home; I shall return alone; the walk will do me good.” The carriage door was open. I took from the seat my oak walking-stick—which I always carry on my holiday excursions—and closed the door, pointing back to Munich, and said, “Go home, Johann—Walpurgis-nacht doesn’t concern Englishmen.”

Abandoned village plagued by rumors of the Un-Dead? Carriage driver crossing himself repeatedly and refusing to go near the place? Even the horses are panicking and trying to get away? Sounds like a lovely place for an afternoon stroll! Sorry, I’m simply too English for foreshadowing. 

(Maybe this is just what comes of being engaged to Mina Murray, goth girl extraordinaire, who will later display the same “when in doubt, make a beeline for the creepiest local ghost stories” approach to vacation planning in Whitby.)

The inscription on the tomb of the vampire that Jonathan 1.0 encounters - who might or might not be one of the Brides of Dracula - identifies her as “COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ, IN STYRIA.” Styria is, of course, the setting of Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 vampire novel Carmilla, suggesting a direct connection between the two stories that didn't make it into the final novel.

The tomb is also inscribed with a Russian translation of “The Dead Travel Fast,” the same line from the German gothic ballad Lenore that will later get quoted at Jonathan on his first encounter with Dracula himself. He just cannot get away from that quote (and the gothic heroine narrative parallels inherent therein). 

Jonathan is saved from his nearly-fatal encounter with Countess Dolingen by a very familiar wolf, before being rescued by a search party of soldiers (who are understandably pretty freaked out about the whole affair). The maître d’ of his hotel later reveals to him that he knew to send out a search party thanks to a quietly hilarious telegram from Dracula himself, who’s evidently decided to take proactive steps to protect his guest/investment/snack for later:

Bistritz. Be careful of my guest—his safety is most precious to me. Should aught happen to him, or if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure his safety. He is English and therefore adventurous. There are often dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a moment if you suspect harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune.—Dracula.

The whole story is obviously Not Canon as far as Dracula proper is concerned - and in particular, the more oblivious narrator here is a pretty far cry from the Jonathan we've all come to know and love over the past several time loops. But all the same, it's a fascinating look at what could have been, and furnishes some intriguing ingredients for Dracula-adjacent storytelling (thanks to that Carmilla connection in particular). And it is pretty funny to imagine Jonathan going through All That and then just cheerfully getting back to travel-blogging his trip for Mina like absolutely nothing happened. All like, “Well, that was terrifying! Anyway.”

#Dracula #Dracula Daily #meta #adventures in not-quite-canon

[viperwhispered]

K so fun fact: I'm brazilian and we are people who are extremely affectionate with each other. We greet each other with hugs and kisses and physical touch is the norm for just about every type of relationship other than complete stranger. Due to this, the one emotion we are never able to properly hide no matter how hard we try is how much we love someone. It's the basis for every sort of positive relationship a standard brazilian will have. Even when it's just acquaintances, we're still guided by the love and respect we feel for our fellow man.

What does this have to do with Jamil? Simple: give him an s/o who is incapable of fully hiding how much they adore him.

Like they'll be subtle, they'll be discreet, but they will never be able to fully hide it. Secret relationship? Sure but it's not gonna stop their eyes from always discreetly wandering over to him. No PDA? Whatever you say dear, but it ain't stopping them from sticking close and brushing up against him.

As soon as they're alone, Jamil is going to be absolutely smothered. Always touching him one way or another, balantly looking at him with heart eyes, and bluntly replying to teases about how they feel towards him (cue blushy Jamil). Even when he's not feeling up to it, they still let their feelings out through acts of service (Kalim sitting, helping with chores, reminding him to rest, making dinner, drawing a bath, etc).

There is also the fact that while the s/o is able to lie, their capability to do so goes out the window when it comes to Jamil. Their able to give vaugue or ambiguous answers, but never outright lie. The reader will also go out of their way to manipulate conversations so it never lands on the topic of their relationship with Jamil.

If someone were to point blank as them if they love Jamil, they would be completely incapable of saying no.

Now the reader themselves doesn't particularly care, but always keep Jamil's wishes in mind. Which is why they respect his boundaries very well. But even then, their affection tends to spill over one way or another.

Which brings us to the comedy:

Kalim, post-CH4 and awakening his Scarabia powers, has noticed that the reader never gives definitive answers when it comes to their opinions on Jamil. Combined with the fact that they always seem to be physically close to him and always looking his way, things are a little confusing for our resident sunshine.

So he bluntly asks and there are two routes for this.

Route 1: the reader just replies: you want the short or long version?

Short version: simple "I love him" that takes less than 10 secs

Long version: 30+ minutes of every single little thing they absolutely adore about Jamil *fangirl style*

Point is that now Kalim is aware that reader is head over heels tumbling down a hill and he's somewhat sure that Jamil is at least interested (even tho the snake is tumbling right after). But he does not know the two have already crashed at the bottom of the Mariana Trench and are already dating.

Cue wacky Kalim shenanigans as he tries to get his two besties together.

Route 2: reader continues to be vague and says something like "It's not really that simple"

Kalim interprets this as you two having a bad relationship/hating each other. The cherry on top of his guilt sundae is the assumption that reader and Jamil are only tolerating each other for Kalim's sake.

Cue paniking sunshine and enter wacky hijinks of Kalim trying to get Jamil and the reader to be friends (not possible unless they break up but at least his heart is in the right place).

Both routes include Kalim learning the truth and duck taping his loud mouth shut, a poor long suffering Jamil, and a very amused reader who is just laughing at the situation while cooing over their flustered boyfriend.

As a Finn I have a feeling we might be quite close to opposite ends of the spectrum here when it comes to showing affection, especially physically 😅

I do love the idea of an s/o who can’t quite hold back their feelings despite their best attempts. It feels very real, too. Like, of course you’re gonna look after the person you care about, and can’t help showing concern if something seems to be going wrong, for example. Like, they seem to get hurt? Of course you’re gonna look worried. They look happy? Of course you’re gonna be happy for them too.

(Also ngl I do try not to lie if I can help it but do sometimes make sure to set my words carefully so yeah I can feel those ambiguous answers for sure.)

Hasdfs oh Kalim you dear sunshine. I can just see Jamil’s confusion at first when he realizes what Kalim is doing, looking at his s/o with a “do you have something to do with this” look. Jamil’s surprise turning into exasperation when it just keeps on happening, and weighing in the options of if it’s less of a hassle for Kalim to know what’s going on after all.

“cooing over their flustered boyfriend” tho. Yes. Totally. Always love this for Jamil. (tho I’d certainly feel awkward too trying to sidestep / calm down Kalim’s antics)

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #ner talks #chatting with folks #lex752 #oh kalim you sweetheart #so much for jamil trying to have some peace by keeping things quiet

[nuctoria]

Enjoy Upthere for the both of us

TW - panic, separation, mention of death.

“M-man, it's strange being back in the Underwhere after so long. Sure brings back memories, eh bro?” the green capped man lightly nudged his distracted brother and gave him a weak smile. 

It was really strange. They knew their time was limited, they dreaded it as time grew near, but now that death had ironically taken them both at the same time they weren't as scared. The knowledge of where they were to end up and that they would still be together must have helped ease their nerves, plus they were thankful that their passings were calm and peaceful.

The brothers held hands as they walked down the hall and passed D-men who barely spared them a glance to get to the queen of this realm. Queen Jaydes. She stood tall as she patiently watched them approach her and give her respectful bows. 

“My condolences, Mario and Luigi.”

“We hope you and Grambi have been well, Jaydes” Mario politely said after rising back up to look up at her. 

“We are and it is thanks to you two and your friends that we are allowed to continue doing so. We also thank you for not letting our daughter's sacrifice be in vain” the queen responded, giving the two a small smile of gratitude. 

Mario offered his own smile but it wavered a bit. He took a deep breath and asked her, “Do you perhaps know how Peach has been? I hope she is being treated well in the Upthere. I really miss her…”.

Peach's passing hadn't been easy for anyone in the kingdom, especially Mario. He missed her more and more each day he lived and though he may not be able to join her in the afterlife, he hoped her spirit was happy as a Nimbi. 

“She's doing well, last I heard from Grambi. She really misses you.” answered Jaydes, receiving a thank you nod from Mario. 

“Now, we must delay no further. Your judgements shall be revealed” announced the queen of the Underwhere, taking a bit of time to go over their actions and deeds in life. 

Mario held Luigi's hand tightly and shut his eyes as he waited. He really wanted to enjoy Upthere with Peach and Luigi, but he wasn't going to hold his breath. Sure, the two had saved countless lives and suffered many dangers during their adventures but that could not lessen their crimes. They had ended up here when they fought Count Bleck back then, unlike Peach, and they could not deny their fates. At least he still had Luigi with him. Nothing could harm them as long as they're together. 

Finally, Queen Jaydes gave her judgement. “Fate has smiled upon you, Mario. Peach will be delighted to hear the news of your arrival to Upthere”. 

He opened his eyes and stared at her in utter shock. Was this…was this true? Was he truly going to the Upthere? Was he going to see Peach again? He couldn't believe it. 

He laughed happily and thanked Jaydes profusely, turning to Luigi and grabbing his shoulders in pure joy. 

“D-did you hear that Lu?! We're going to the Upthere! We're all going to be together again! We'll be Nimbis like Peach and live on clouds! Isn't that amazing?!”

Luigi didn't show the same excitement as Mario did, only giving him a small smile. It was a happy smile, of course, but it was also sad. This confused Mario and brought his own excitement down. 

“Luigi? Hey, what's wrong? Aren't you excited?” Mario asked his younger twin softly, growing more confused when Luigi took a step away from him. 

“Tell Peach I said hi when you get there, ok bro…?” was all Luigi said. 

It finally clicked at that moment. Jaydes had only said Mario's name, not both of their names. But why?! He had done as many crimes so why was only Luigi getting the short end of the stick?! 

“What's going on? Why can't you come along?! How is this fair?!” Mario asked in a panic, looking between Luigi and Jaydes for an explanation which the queen provided. 

“Your brother really loves you, Mario. He was adamant that you deserved to be in a better place than this. He made a deal with me to ensure your place in the Upthere while he stays here in the Underwhere with me”, explained Jaydes. 

“Don't worry, bro, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm glad I can still be useful by helping Jaydes with the roudier souls…” Luigi tried to calm Mario's rising panic. 

Mario was not willing to listen, “Have you lost your mind?! Do you have any idea who you will be stuck here with all alone?! You can't do this! End the deal, I'm not going anywhere without you!” shouted Mario. 

This declare was taken as a sign that the D-men would need to step in, getting ahold of Mario and started dragging him away to the gates of the Upthere. Mario struggled against them and demanded they let him go, pleading with Luigi to not leave him and begging for Jaydes to not do this. 

All Jaydes did was bow her head in guilt as Luigi tried to keep a smile on his face despite the tears running down his face. Mario could feel feathery wings form on his back the closer he was dragged to the gates but his focus was on his brother and his transformation into a Shayde. He started crying, his begging growing louder and more desperate as struggled against the D-men and reached out towards Luigi. 

“Enjoy Upthere for the both of us, bro. I love you…” Luigi softly said, his voice quivering from trying to keep his sobs in. 

The gates opened and Mario was forcefully thrown past them. 

“LUIGI!!!”

--------

So um... I don't know, I remembered an old comic dub on YouTube and thought of this. Hope you enjoyed!

@istadris @itsavee4117 @vulpixfairy1985 @billinshoes @silenzahra

#luigi #mario #Jaydes #Underwhere #Spm #Sad #Random writing

[theinfinitedivides]

why do the Viki subs say 'don't ever come near Kang Young Hwa' when Do Ha leaves Min Oh in the hallway when what he's actually saying is something along the lines of (at least from what i can hear) 'do not find yourself (unintelligible?) Kang Young Hwa a second time'. what's the reason for that

#tv: moon in the day #moon in the day #pyo ye jin #kim young dae #kdrama #local gay watches MITD.txt #local gay watches k-dramas.txt #look my translation skills are ass and he's not speaking in modern Korean sentence structure wise so i know something's probably off here #but i know. i know what he said was not the former. if it was that is a heavily condensed trans that makes no sense to me #anyway back to Do Ha ripping Min Oh a new one. also ripping my heart out too bc he really looked at this man going through it and said #'the guilt of you trying to kill my wife after she tried so hard to save your brother's life is enough for you to live with so i won't #kill you. you and your brother have f*cked up fates anyway it seems' #those boys were always going to get the short end of the stick f*ck this. that's insane

[variousqueerthings]

i feel like the funniest thing about the bear s2 for me vis a vis the odd romance plot (and trying to figure out why it was done in the precise way it was) is that the closest we got to a sex scene if I'm remembering correctly was a strange purple-lit under the covers couple of flashes of difficult to decipher limbs. they coulda just been wrestling or hanging out, hell it coulda just been him in there or a piece of his imagination or a very windy day. the lack of attempting to inject sexual passion or chemistry into their relationship was fascinating and not because they were trying to give us ace carmen (rip that would be actually great). just threw out A Girl Template and did the absolute barest minimum to remind us she exists and "is great" according to occasional reviews from other characters and completely neglected to write. chemistry.

#he's aroace in my soul #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear season 2 #listen this is not even really a complaint im not interested in complaining it's simple poking at it because it's the odd man out #i am just fascinated that in a show that i think otherwise has such intensely Precise connections written between people #down to the single-episode or even single-scene encounters #this relationship is floating in the wind and not in an intentional-looking way (at least not as of end s2) #they love each other??? they do???? Really?????? is she even real because i think he's been hallucinating her the whole time #and that's why she doesn't exist outside of his scenes of domestic clichés #barring a couple of insert shorts of her Doing Doctoring #contrast richie and his ex-wife sticking their tongues out at each other and make silly faces: oh yeah they're in love i get it #also i mused her as a foil for sydney/the restaurant and the restaurant... maybe #sydney?? claire's just -- at best -- a shadow of a shadow in sidneys narrative #sidney clocked her once and then went *nah im outta here* and she was right

[wonryllis]

ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375

prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo

JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided

"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.

he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.

look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.

and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.

"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"

"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.

"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.

"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.

fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.

"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.

"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"

"get away!"

just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.

"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.

"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.

"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.

"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.

you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"

"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.

it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.

"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.

"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.

"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.

"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.

"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.

"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.

"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.

"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.

pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.

dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.

"kiss me,"

and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.

taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

#enhypen imagines #k-labels #૮ ◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა ！？：bonbon fraise event、 #LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SUNGHOON #ALSO chipmunk thingy is based on real experience >< #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐻𝐼𝒟𝒟𝐸𝒩 𝑀𝐸𝒜𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮

info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.4 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ teacher!reader ﾉ both gojo and reader are ~22 ﾉ gojo has taken in megumi + tsumiki

it’s the third time this month that megumi has been the only student left in your classroom. your boss had warned you that this should be something to expect, that his circumstances are special. you truly haven’t had a problem with him sticking around once the school day ended—your only issue is that you’re never certain what days he might be extending his stay or for how long.

it’s the tiniest bit inconvenient, not knowing whether you should bring extra snacks for the boy or if you can agree to plans after work with friends. you’ll never fault megumi for the uncertainties of his schedule, though.

he really is a good kid.

you’re sitting across from him now and he’s got one of the two onigiris you packed for yourself during your after-school grading set on a napkin. his hand reaches out for the last bite of the rice ball before popping the remainder in his mouth. you don’t realize you’ve been staring at the boy until his dark eyes meet yours. in an attempt to avoid any awkwardness, you ask, “how’s your sister?”

“good.” his reply is short, simple—not far off from how he usually acts in class. megumi’s not much of a talker, that much has become clear to you in the few weeks you’ve been his teacher and even more so in these one-on-one moments. it doesn’t bother you and you’ll never push him to hold a conversation he clearly doesn’t want to have.

“anything you want to do while we wait?” he’s finished his snack and you aren’t sure how much longer it’ll be until his guardian, gojo, is here to pick him up. “we could go to the playground if you’d like.”

he shakes his head, leaning down to grab something from his backpack. “that’s okay, i’m fine reading.”

it’s only your first year teaching out of college but you can confidently say that you haven’t met many ten-year-olds who choose to read over playing outside; on a playground all to themselves, at that. the sight of megumi flipping through the pages of his book to pick up where he left off brings a small smile to your face.

your initial thought is that it speaks well of his example at home. although, from the short interactions you’ve been granted with gojo, something tells you that megumi’s interest in reading came from elsewhere.

you’ve had trouble getting a read on the one called gojo satoru, partly because each of your meetings with him last no longer than a couple of minutes, but mostly because he gives off the impression of someone who doesn’t want others looking at him too critically. it’s a little strange, you think, that a man as outgoing as him is just as guarded.

you ponder on the seemingly endless unknowns that surround gojo as you clean up the small snack you shared with megumi. thoughts of him tug at the back of your mind even when you’ve returned to the table with the boy to get some grading done.

the sun’s harsh rays have started to turn a softer golden by the time gojo arrives to take megumi home. he quietly hums a made-up tune as he walks down the path that leads to your classroom. the melody dies in his throat several feet down the hall upon his realization that your door is ajar. virtually undetectable footsteps carry him the rest of the way and he stops just outside your room.

gojo spots you and megumi situated at one of the many tables, a book in megumi’s hand and a pen between your teeth. there’s a slight crease in your brow as you examine the paper on the surface that makes gojo chuckle a bit.

the sound draws your eyes up and to the doorway. there gojo stands, a grin pulling at his lips.

“gojo-san,” you greet him, standing up and wiping the palms of your hands on your thighs.

your words act as an invitation as the man only enters upon hearing them. he waves and offers you a spoken “hello” before placing the same hand on top of megumi’s head. the boy brushes it away nonchalantly and begins to pack up his things.

your gaze is focused on gojo, how he theatrically frowns at megumi’s silent dismissal and how the dark lenses he wears slide down the bridge of his nose, exposing cerulean irises framed by white eyelashes. his attire is different than the uniform he typically dons when you see him at the end of the day, something you’ve noticed holds true every time he shows up late. this time around, he wears a plain white button-up and sandy brown linen pants.

you’ve never questioned it before but the trend has started to make you wonder what exactly he gets up to on these days. although, you don’t think about it too hard. as long as he’s here and megumi makes it home safe, there isn’t much beyond that that you need to know.

“yoo-hoo,” the sing-songy call rings through the air. you reckon that it came from gojo, if his toothy smile is any evidence.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize for spacing out (and for something so trivial, at that) before painting on your practiced smile. “did you say something?”

“i was just asking if megumi here gave you any trouble.” gojo tries, again, to ruffle the boy's hair but a smaller hand is there to knock his away, as if megumi expected the bothersome gesture. 

you hold back a laugh at gojo’s continued efforts being met with even more denial by the fifth grader. “not at all.”

“good.” the white-haired man nods, strands of the silky hair brushing the tops of his glasses. his gaze flits from megumi to you in a split second and even though most of his eyes are hidden, you can feel the intensity his stare holds. “sorry for keeping you so late, i had a bit of extra work to handle today.”

“i don’t mind,” you reassure him with the wave of your hand. “but…”

a thought crosses your mind that leads you to bend down and grab a sheet of paper from the table. you fold the parchment into a square before picking up the pen you had been grading assignments with earlier and scribbling something on the page. gojo and megumi watch quietly as you do so and wear similar expressions of confusion when you hold the paper out to the former.

gojo takes it without hesitation and angles his hand so that he can read what you’ve written. it looks like your phone number and name followed by a wonky smiley face. his eyes widen ever-so-slightly before he looks over his glasses at you. “what’s this for?”

“oh!” you seem to have forgotten to tell him the intent behind sharing your number. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you explain. “just so you can text me in advance if you know you’ll be running behind.”

for a short moment, gojo had interpreted it as something different, though, he opens his mouth in the shape of an understanding “ah” at your clarification while stuffing the square in his pocket. he doubts he’ll ever have the time to actually do so but that doesn’t stop him from saying, “got it, will do.”

your lips curl up in a tight smile as you silently berate yourself for coming off as unprofessional.

“we’ll be out of your hair, then.” gojo’s voice breaks through the thick silence between you. you simply nod in acknowledgement.  “thanks for staying late with megumi.”

the dark-haired boy politely parrots his thank you.

“you’re welcome. see you both tomorrow.”

on their walk home, megumi glances to his side at the man towering over him. he’s pulled out the piece of paper you gave him and is happily saving your number in his phone. megumi may be young, but he’s nothing if not attentive.

“why do you keep stopping at home to change?” he asks gojo.

clear blue eyes stay glued to the device in his hand. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

megumi scoffs. “you put on cologne, too.”

“i always smell this good,” gojo argues, finally stuffing the things and his hands in his pockets. he looks down at megumi, wearing the smile the boy finds annoying. 

something about it feels like confirmation to his suspicions.

“are you trying to impress my teacher or something?”

the fall of gojo’s smile is all megumi needs to know that he’s right.

lithe fingers reach down to pinch the boy’s cheek. “shut it, kid.”

sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭

Finders, Keepers.

16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates

Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 1185

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

The Roommate Collection.

Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.

It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.

He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.

He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.

You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.

"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"

Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.

"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."

You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.

You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.

Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.

"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"

"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."

"Waffles it is."

Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.

"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.

The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.

"Is that my shirt?"

You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."

"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."

You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.

"Are you... alright, Carmy?"

"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."

"... like what?"

"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."

He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.

He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.

"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.

"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."

You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.

Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.

He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.

As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.

"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."

You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.

"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?

You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.

"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."

You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.

"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.

"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.

"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"

#carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader smut #the bear #the bear fanfic #the bear fanfiction #the bear imagine #jeremy allen white #the bear smut #the bear x reader #murphy's 500 followers celebration

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #leave it to Eddie to tell Steve the things he needs to hear #sometimes it just shakes me to the core when I realize how alike they are #like yes. they absolutely have their differences #but at the core they have similar experiences that they need to process #and really I think they need each other #because they’re both so willing to die for others and see the worth in everyone but themselves #but put them together and that worth goes back and forth #I just see them learning a lot from each other #and it’s a really beautiful thing #ANYWAYS #hi guys. thanks for sticking through that massive tag rant thing 💛

[sundrop-writes]

Officially announcing my new series: Careful.

A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.

'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'

The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!

(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)

The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.

...

The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 

You had a son. 

… 

When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 

The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 

Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 

Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 

Shock. 

You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 

“Y/N,” 

He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 

This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 

Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 

And that was when you finally spoke. 

“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 

You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 

“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 

You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 

“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 

“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 

“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 

He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 

… 

You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 

Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 

“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 

“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 

…

Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 

He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 

“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 

“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 

“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 

You already knew what he was going to say. 

‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 

“No.” You rushed to say. 

But it was a lie. You knew. 

You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 

You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 

And you knew exactly when. 

The night was so vivid in your mind. 

… 

He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 

When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 

“Do you have a condom?” 

It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 

“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 

When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 

“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 

(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 

He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 

He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 

This was always his favorite part. 

The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 

It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 

It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 

With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 

“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 

“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 

Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 

The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 

He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 

… 

It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 

Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 

He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 

But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[kettlefire]

It's not you, it's me. (DPxDC)

Long post, but short plot info or progression wise!

Danny loves his parents, don't get him wrong. They weren't perfect by any means, but they tried. As hard as it was for him to come to terms with, it's okay. Really.

It's okay that Jazz had been the one to raise him. It's okay that his parents talked about wanting to rip him apart during mealtime. It's okay they didn't notice the way ghostly things attached to Danny. It's okay that they never paid enough attention to put his secret together.

It's okay because they weren't bad parents. Not as bad as they could be. Yes, they could be a little reckless. Yes, they had their problems. But the good times were there.

Saturday morning fudge cooking with Jack. Late night self-defense class with Maddie. Tinkering in the lab with both of them. Even the normal embarrassing moments were good.

Because his parents are awesome. They are absolutely cool, and they did their best. As best as they could.

That's why it hurt so much to leave.

It hurt to leave Amity Park, but it hurt more to leave his family. He felt it deep in his core, the pain of having to separate from those he loves. Those he needed to protect.

But it was time. If Danny wanted to protect them, he needed to leave. So, he did. He almost didn't say goodbye. Almost didn't want to face it all.

His friends were easy to say goodbye to, but it still hurt just as much. Sam and Tucker, they understood why he had to go. Same with Jazz. There were talks about other ideas and plans so that Danny didn't need to leave. But he had to. There was no other option.

But Danny needed to tell his parents everything. Tell them about his accident, tell them that he was Phantom. He couldn't just say bye and leave with no explanation. So he bit the bullet and did it.

It went well. Better than good, it was amazing. And Danny wished he could stick around to see the changes in his parents' work because of it.

Danny has cried enough times this past week than he was sure he cried his whole life. He had his fill, he doubt he could cry again soon.

For everyone's safety, Danny Fenton left Amity Park. Phantom had vanished from the streets. Amity Park was safe. The Anti-Ecto laws, the GIW, all of it. They wouldn't target Amity Park anymore.

It was a lot of work to get the other ghosts on board. But after Clockwork confirmed everything, it all set into motions. The world was free of ghosts, but Danny wasn't sure how long the others could stay away.

He needed a plan, needed to get the government to understand ghosts. But there was nothing Danny could truly do. He was just a kid.

He is just a kid. Just a kid leaving in a small apartment right by a place nicknames crime alley. But Danny liked it. Gotham had enough noise and ambient ectoplasm to keep him safe. It would be hard for anyone to find him.

He was safe. Safe for once. But Danny knew it wouldn't last long.

The problem here? Danny was all alone. He didn't have his team to contact. Didn't have Sam or Jazz to tell him that a plan was downright stupid. Didn't have Tucker to back up the stupid plans that could actually work.

That's how he ended up in space.

Danny loves space, and he wished he was visiting in better circumstances. Thankfully, the vacuum of space had no impact on Danny's ghost form. It was harder than he expected to find what he was looking for.

God, Danny wished Tucker was here. The techno-nerd was a wiz with the computer. Amazing at hacking and tracking in a way Danny couldn't understand.

But Danny didn't have Tucker. He didn't have anyone right now. He couldn't have anyone right now.

Even so, Danny found it. Found the secret space base for the Justice League. It was a struggle, but he found it. And for once, his luck was on his side.

The whole team was there. Well, the main ones you see on the news and in the paper. All sitting around a giant table, a whole meeting was happening.

Danny took one shuddering breath in before phasing into the Watchtower invisibly. He was honestly surprised when no alarms went off. No defenses were triggered. He made a mental note to give them some ghost detection equipment if things go well.

Except things didn't go well. At least not the way Danny had been hoping.

He silently made his way to the table, standing a bit of a distance from them. Just in case he needed to run. His eyes jumped between the different heroes.

Danny steeled his nerves, at least tried to. He stood directly across from Batman, in the perfect spot to be noticed instantly. Then he dropped his invisibility.

All eyes were on him in an instance. Danny never felt so terrified in his life. Not like this. His attempt at steeling his nerves failed immediately.

Maybe the anxiety and fear was clear on his face. Maybe it's because he is a child, despite glowing and being someplace he shouldn't be. But Danny vaguely heard a soft, gentle voice speak to him.

He couldn't make it out, not really. His ears were filled with the sounds of his rushing ectoplasm. A tremble settled in his hands, and Danny knew he needed to hurry up. He needed to speak before he lost all his cool.

"I... Sorry, I know I shouldn't be here... But, uh, my name's Phantom... And I... I..."

The words stumbled and spilled from Danny in a less than elegant and confident way. The shaking in his hands got worse the more he tried to speak. His voice shaky and waivering, even when he tried to sound strong.

And Danny couldn't pull his gaze away from Batman. The cape crusader stood unmoving, unphased, and completely silent. The other heroes had a mixed of expression, but Danny couldn't read Batman.

That unnerved the teen so much. In that moment, he regretted ever coming here. He regretted leaving Amity Park. He regretted telling his parents. He regretted ever stepping foot in that damn portal to begin with.

Then something snap inside of Danny. The dam that was holding everything in just suddenly broke. In a split second, his vision grew blurry with tears.

Even though he didn't need to breathe, his breathing started to pick up. Fast and short. He could feel the phantom feeling of a heart beating rapidly in his chest. Or maybe it was his core warning him of the sudden wave of emotions rocking through him.

"I... I... Help."

The single word, the single plea, spilled from Danny in a pathetic whimper. Before he suddenly dropped to his knees. He curled in on himself. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, head bowed and white hair curtaining his face. Tears fell fast down his cheeks, leaving droplets on the floor, as choked sobs left him.

In that moment, Danny didn't feel like a hero. Didn't feel like Phantom. Didn't feel like the ghostly hero that was in charge of fixing everything.

In that moment, Danny felt like a scared little kid. A kid who was given too much too fast, with no real guidance. A kid that had to grow up fast and had people depending on him. A kid who was exhausted and terrified. A kid that wanted nothing more than to run home. To be wrapped up in a Jack Fenton Bear Hug. To feel his mother's hand combing through his hair as she whispered gentle reassuring words to him.

In the end, Danny Fenton was still just a kid. And it seemed the Justice League could see that.

Danny couldn't focus on the words he heard spoken around him. He couldn't focus on the moments either. He couldn't focus on anything.

Until suddenly, arms were wrapped around him in a gentle and warm embrace. He felt something draped over his back. Danny blinked the blurriness in his vision just enough to make out who was in front of him.

Batman. The hero that scared Danny the most seconds ago.

Except this time, even through the cowl, Batman looked softer. The man looked human and understanding. It made Danny's mind flash to his parents once again. Which only made him cry harder.

A glowing kid was wrapped up in Batman's arms, the two kneeling on the ground. Batman's cape wrapped around the trembling, sobbing form. The kid clinging to Batman like a lifeline. The rest of the Justice League stood around the two.

Nobody quite knowing what the hell they were supposed to do. Or what was really going on.

All those heroes needed to know was simple enough. There was a kid who went through all this trouble to end up in the Watchtower. A kid that's so hurt and exhausted, pleading for help. And helping was the Justice League's specialty.

#danny phantom #fandom things #fandom #multi fandom blog #danny fenton #phandom #dc x dp #batman #dp x dc #justice league #dp x dc crossover #dc justice league #detective comics #dcxdp #dcu #dc #This whole stems from the idea of Danny trying to be a good kid #doing his overall best to make things good for everyone #but constantly feeling like he was making it worse #like he was the problem #and everything would be better for everyone if he wasn't Phantom #jack fenton #maddie fenton #Maddie and Jack are good parents in this

[bogleech]

Many parasites takeover the minds and bodies of insects, spiders or other creatures, making them like zombies. You’ve listed some in spider-ween and other places. Do you know any parasites that take over bees? I know wasps lay their eggs in their larva, but haven’t really found anything about those that pilot a bee’s body.

Strepsipterans! Also frequently just called "Stylops"

These are the weirdest most alien insect group in existence. What you're seeing are the head ends of the mature females; their bodies are just bags of tissue that absorb nutrients from the host, so they no longer have any trace of limbs or wings and their flat little heads no longer have mouths or eyes.

The only reason the female's heads stick out of the host at all is because the head evolved into the end they mate with. The short-lived mature male is a very tiny flying thing (whose anatomy is unlike any other insect alive today - a totally unique type of wing, unique eye arrangement, we have NO idea what these evolved from, except for some loose connections to beetles!) who mates by breaking through the female's featureless armored face with his bladed genitalia and then he dies. And Strepsiptera can be found infecting all sorts of arthropods, even apparently some arachnids, but none of those arthropods really tend to sit still when a little tiny flying man tries to land on them, so the females usually do something to their hosts (we aren't sure what exactly) to make them slower and more complacent. Social Hymenoptera like bees are especially common hosts though, and when a worker bee or wasp is infected by stylops, she actually abandons her colony and her duties for extended periods of time to just perch in one place while the parasite broadcasts its mating pheromones. This is especially eerie from the bee's perspective; a worker bee is a female bee that wasn't allowed to become a queen and isn't "supposed" to be going around mating, but now she's sitting around waiting for a male just like any other bug that wants to be a mom. It's just not a male of her species and she's not the one who gets to reproduce. Is the parasite tapping into buried queen behavior? Does the bee's little brain think it's calling for a drone to help it start a new hive? Or does the parasite just make the bee a lazy slob who stops caring about her hive and just feels like chilling out on a flower all day? We might never know.

Here are those unique eyes of the male for anyone wondering. Not set in a fine multifaceted grid like in other insects, but clustered, still set in their own individual "sockets" like we see in much more ancient arthropods like trilobites! This suggests that Strepsipteran eyes date back to when insects were first beginning to evolve towards true compound eyes, but there still aren't many insects in the fossil record that have anything else in common with these animals. EDIT: oh yeah I forgot to include that these are in the children's book made by @revretch and I!

I did the rough pencil sketch of this page while Rev did the beautiful inks! I felt kids should know about these animals but I tried to explain it in the most kid-friendly way possible.

#biology #parasites #insects

[jaegersdevil]

my love, mine all mine [satoru gojo]

Satoru Gojo x Reader summary: just some moments between you and satoru <3 w/c: 1.6k warnings: literally every piece ends with 'i love you' which was unintentional, but we move - this is a fic about love anyway, so i guess i'll let it slide. enjoy! masterlist

12:26 pm

“Will you kiss me?” Satoru laughs, making grabby hands at you. “Please?”

“Will you kiss me back this time?” You counter, an eyebrow raised, stepping out of his reach. 

Satoru rolls his eyes, though the glint of mischief never leaves his bright eyes. “Of course.” 

“Fine,” You eye him wearily. But before you lean in, you put your finger up. “If you don’t, you’re sleeping on the couch because I just want to kiss my boyfriend, and you aren’t letting me!”

“I solemnly swear I will kiss you,” He laughs, large hands covering your cheeks. You stare up at him, eyes flickering to his tongue, which is currently darting out to wet his lips. "Promise."

“Satoru…” You whisper, hands grazing his abdomen under his black t-shirt. 

“I know, baby,” He mumbles, eyes on your mouth as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

But, he abruptly pulls away after kissing you for an incredibly short amount of time, a betrayed expression on his pretty face. “Hey!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, laughing uncontrollably while stepping out of his grip. 

When you open your eyes, Satoru stands with a pout, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Aww, big baby,” You giggle, reaching to push the hair on his forehead back. 

“You didn’t kiss me back!” He sighs, his pout growing. 

“Let me guess,” You smile. “It’s only funny when you do it?” 

Satoru nods. “Obviously! Look at me! Do I look like I deserve no kisses?” 

You shake your head. “I hate you.” 

He opens his arms and brings you into his chest, kissing your forehead. “I love you, too.”

7:57 pm

"Hello, my other half," Satrou greets as he shuts the front door. “What are we making?” 

“We are making miso soup and chicken gyozas,” You smile before lifting the spoon that was stirring the soup out of the pot. “Here, try some.” 

Satoru bounces over, slipping his blindfold off his temples to hang around his neck. 

You lift the spoon and direct it toward his mouth, careful not to spill any. You hold your hand under his jaw as he drinks, his bright eyes following the spoon. 

And when he’s done, Satoru’s eyes flick to yours, and his jaw falls open. “Wow, just wow,” One of his arms is outstretched, the other behind his back. “You are incredible. Amazing soup. Wow, what would I even eat without you? God…”

Pleased with his response but suspicious, you narrow your eyes at him. “What did you do?” 

Satoru’s face scrunches up in immediate guilt, and he sighs loudly. “Why must you know me so well?” 

You don’t reply, folding your arms and staring at him until he answers. 

“Fine! I may have, well, did break my wrist today—”

“Satoru!” You exclaim, trying to look at the arm he keeps hidden behind his back. 

“I know! Honest mistake, though. Yuuji wanted me to show him the skateboarding tricks I had been bragging about—”

“You’ve never skateboarded.”

“I know! Funny, right?” Satoru rubs the back of his head with his uninjured hand. “Anyway, I hit the sickest kickflip and then, you know, fell really hard on my ass and broke my wrist... But, hey! At least it made my students laugh!”

Your stare is deadpan, but you’re worried about his wrist, so you step forward to see it. 

“Ouch! No touchy!” He grabs his wrist in his other hand, turning his body away from you.

“Satoru,” You say unamused. “Show me.” 

He pouts and sticks his arm out before him. “You should’ve seen it. Blood everywhere. I had to get like 93 stitches to sew me back up. A real disaster.” 

You roll your eyes and delicately hold his forearm in your hands, assessing the damage. 

"...You wanna tell me how dumb I am?"

"Later.”

Satoru sighs and watches you examine the cast on his wrist. He glances at the clock on the kitchen wall and then at the soup boiling on the stove.

“You’re an idiot,” You laugh, surprising Satoru, who raises his eyebrows at your change in reaction, forgetting about the dinner. 

He squints at you, gauging if your laughter is real before he throws blame around; otherwise, he would be cleaning the bathroom for his stupidity. “Blame Yuuji, he wanted to see my tricks.” 

“Don’t blame the kid, Satoru! You chose to get on the damn skateboard. This is entirely your fault,” You shake your head incredulously, a smile still on your cheeks. 

Satoru pouts again and wraps his arms around your head, resting his cheek on your hair. “Yes, nurse! You can bathe me! Thank you so much for asking!” He exclaims. 

You circle your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. “You’re so lucky I love you, Gojo.” 

2:58 am

The apartment is silent when Satoru returns home. It’s late.

The mission had been more draining than usual — some special grade had murdered some people in Yokohama. It was nothing new, but the reaction of the people he had saved had flipped a switch. Instead of being grateful, like most, they had been terrified of him, screaming and crying as he tried to console them, causing him to believe he was more a monster than a hero — he'd never experienced such a reaction that hurt him so deeply.

A small sniffle wakes you from slumber, though you try not to alert Satoru of your awareness.

“I know you’re awake,” His voice comes out raspy and soft, making you sit up. Satoru stands awkwardly in the doorway of the ensuite, wringing out his hands. 

“‘Toru, what are you doing? Come to bed,” You mumble, eyes adjusting to the bedroom's darkness. You follow the hem of the duvet to Satoru’s side and pull up the covers to invite him in. 

“I–I’ll sleep on the couch. I didn’t want to wake you.” 

You furrow your brows at the sound of his dejected tone and fold over the blanket to get out of bed. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

“No!” He exclaims, hands out before him to stop you from coming any closer. Your heart stops at the sight, and tears fill your eyes. 

“Satoru? What’s going on?” You make your way toward him slowly.

He lets out a choked sigh and sniffles. “Don’t come near me, I’m dangerous, okay?” 

“Baby,” You state, suddenly becoming wary of him. “What happened?”

Satoru can’t let you near him for fear he would hurt you, just like the people he saved were screaming. So, he steps back quickly into the bathroom and shuts the door, leaving you outside confused. 

Before knocking on the ensuite door, you blink a few times to ensure this is real. “Satoru?” 

“Please, don’t be afraid of me…” 

His cries and broken speech cause tears to spring to your eyes. You rest your forehead on the cold wood and sigh shakily. 

"I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong," You say, blinking back tears.

“No, you don’t understand. I’m dangerous,” He whimpers, hiccuping afterwards. 

“You keep saying that…” You wipe your eyes with your hands and push the handle down — relieved to find it unlocked.

Curled up against the bathtub is Satoru, head between his knees. “Please leave…” 

You shake your head, even though he can’t see you, and sit beside him, matching his posture. “I’m not leaving.” 

Satoru lifts his head and faces you; his cheeks are flushed, but his blindfold still covers his eyes, and you tilt your head to better look at him — you see no blood or injuries. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me what’s wrong, okay? I don’t know what’s happening, and I’m scared, ‘Toru.” 

'I’m scared' are the only words he picks from your sentence, and Satoru’s heart drops. His ears are ringing, and he can feel bile rising in his throat and the thought of being the reason you’re scared is enough to make him physically ill. 

Like a warning, he mutters your name deeply and refuses to look at you. “I’m scaring you, huh?”

Your face contorts into a bewildered expression, and you shake your head. "You're not something I'm afraid of, Satoru; you're something I worship," You whisper. “I could never be scared of you. You’re, like, the least scary person ever.” 

This gets a laugh out of him, though it's restrained. “Many think the opposite.” 

“This is about the mission,” You conclude, nodding when you finally understand. He doesn’t reply, and you continue. “What? Did they say you’re terrifying because you saved their lives? Because you put your life on the line, a life I care more about than my own, to save their lives?” You scoff, threading your arm through his and holding onto his elbow. “Fuck, ‘Toru. I wanna kill them for making you feel like this.” 

And finally, he laughs properly. Satoru’s body shakes as he does so, and the sound is one you want to bottle up and keep for eternity. 

“You crack me up, darling,” He smiles when he looks at you. “I don’t doubt you for a second.” 

“Good,” You mumble, using your other hand to push his head down onto your shoulder. Kissing the top of his head, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and bring his head to rest on your chest. “Because I would fight for you in a heartbeat, even though you can do it yourself anyway.”

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers, circling his arms around your torso. “You know I love you, right?” 

You sigh, hugging him tighter. “Yeah, I love you infinitely more anyway, so…” 

“Shut up.”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #— ann writes!