#Boss Sun

[gsstories]

I created a new DCA AU!

It’s basically an AU where Sun and Moon be part of the mafia and they are, like, in their 40s and kind of old school meaning they aren’t fond of the newest generation of animatronics.

(Excuse the clothes, I suck at them)

Sun is the big boss, acting cold, strict and a bit cruel to those who don’t follow the rules and only being mildly caring to currently one person, who is Moon who is his right hand man, he is silent, unpredictable and loyal to his brother but also has a soft, gentle and caring side.

And here we have the lil complications Sun and Moon have recently acquired. These are Dusk and Dawn, some new generation animatronic twins who ended up in the Celestial Brothers’ possession. Not sure how they would have gotten them, still working out stuff cause I literally JUST made this AU. I am not sure which one I should call Dusk and who to call Dawn so rn Imma call them Boy and Girl. Boy is the one with the lower ponytail, a bit of a crybaby, clingy and hates loud noises while his sister, Girl, is the one with the high ponytail and the complete opposite of her twin, she is bold, chaotic and is the loudest lil thing she is.

Moon was assigned to keep an eye on them so the twins warm up to him sooner and he warms up to them as well while Sun doesn’t really like them at first.

This AU is a WIP but I wanted to share the concepts cause why the hell not? I find it fun. Don’t know what to call it just yet so it’ll be referred to as Mafia Children AU for the time being.

[fellatitledthemf]

[merrigel]

I want it back = I drag its dead weight forward

[soni-dragon]

this is v silly but guzma in a golisopod hoodie

[critterbitter]

Driftveil city, home to moomoo milk drinks, beautiful sunsets, and a thriving port— and the best music bw has to offer (in my humble opinion).

Masterpost for more pokemon!

[jadeazora]

Sent to me by @poke-maniac! Thanks so much for the heads up!

Yo, this sounds so much cooler than just the basic boss rush we actually got, a full-on conflict involving a wider area of Alola, Skull vs. Rocket, plus RR Giovanni (who apparently wasn't the true Giovanni) successfully taking down the player, and Blue and Red joining the fight too! And the original Giovanni apparently wanted to make Silver proud and fix that burned bridge with him.

One of my biggest complaints with RR was the cool concept, but the utter waste of potential it was that the bosses just hang out in their rooms and we hardly get any proper interactions between them, that they're just confined to the Aether Paradise. Ultra was always one of those games where it felt like it needed more time to cook than it actually got imo--it released literally less than a year after SM came out--, and I wish GF got the time to be more ambitious like how this sounded.

[jayparked]

heyy live ur writing style smmm😭

can we get 106 with Jay?🫶🏻

warnings: s2l, diner owner!jay x customer! f.reader, semi public sex in a closed restaurant, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

wc: 1.4k

"i'm not on the menu."

"w-what?" you stare at the diner owner with wide eyes. he's smiling while continuing to wipe down the counter you're sitting at.

"i gave you that menu ten minutes ago but you haven't looked away from me for a second. i'm starting to think i missed a spot shaving or something."

he's so nonchalant about what he's saying to you. as if his words didn't send chills down your spine or bring a bright flush to your cheeks.

"i-...i'm sorry, jay. i must have been zoning out..."

he flashes you a playful smirk, one that screams 'yeah, sure, whatever you say'. you're grateful he drops the subject, continuing to clean as the last few customers start to leave the diner before closing time.

"you know..." jay starts slowly, "you've been coming here every week for months..."

"...yeah?" you question cautiously, eyes peering over the menu to take in his casual stance: one elbow on the counter so his head can be pillowed by his palm, the other hand still holding the washcloth.

"why do you still ask for a menu? you and i both know you don't need it. i've got your weekly cravings down to a science now. "

you chuckle and set the menu down, opting to take a sip of water just after saying, "a science, huh?"

jay shrugs one shoulder, his gaze intensifying, "rainy days it's the soup of the day. when it's sunny you want the roast beef provolone sandwich with crinkle cut fries, a diet coke, and a pickle on the side. when you have a stressful day at school you want the pancakes with extra syrup. and when it's-"

"enough!" you hold up a hand and laugh. "i get it! i like my routine, i'm predictable, blah blah blah."

"not as predictable as i'd like you to be," jay deadpans in a husked tone. your thoughts mentally trip inside your brain and you gulp a little too loudly. seconds go by without either of you saying anything or looking away from one another. you know you should say something, anything at this point, but the words just won't come out.

"why do you still ask for a menu, y/n?"

your heart is pounding in your chest so hard it physically hurts. but now that the new year has started, you remember your goal: to be more bold, more brave, and to try not to shy away from what you want.

instead of taking the leap, you opt to answer his question...with a question.

"why do you let me order way past closing?"

jay nods his head, lips jutting out playfully, clearly not expecting the tables to turn on him so quickly.

"it's the only time you can come in. you're in lectures all day. and someone's gotta make sure you're eating after all that studying." jay gets himself upright, tossing the washcloth over his shoulder and giving you another smile before turning his back to you. he walks towards the soda machine, scooping a generous amount of ice into a glass and pressing his finger against the diet coke option.

"so you're saying...that i'm not like the other customers?" you try to come off as funny, playful, maybe even a little bit flirty, wiggling your eyebrow at his back for an extra quirky effect. but he doesn't laugh.

jay turns to you once the glass is full. slowly, he leans back down again, his face inching closer and closer to yours as he moves the glass towards you. his eye contact is hypnotizing; the way you can't break away no matter how badly you want to. you look up at him with curious, searching eyes, hoping to find any hint that what you're feeling for him isn't as crazy as you think it is.

"do you want to be like the other customers?" he murmurs so softly you almost don't hear it. he's close enough that you could reach out and touch him, close enough to pull him closer, just...close enough.

"no," you sigh dreamily, "i really don't."

finally, jay's eyes flick down towards your lips, his own lips parting slightly, a soft exhale escaping them.

his gaze meets yours again, something softer, pleading, now displayed in those deep brown eyes. "may i?"

"please," you whisper, your own eyes flicking to his lips now.

both of jay's hands come forward and softly cusp your cheeks, pulling you closer until your lips collide. after a few seconds, jay smiles widely, his teeth showing while his lips still hover over yours.

"say that again," jay murmurs, his eyes fluttering as they remain closed, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones.

you can't help but smile with him, your hands shaking as you reach out to grasp his wrists and squeezing them reassuringly. "please."

"mmm, fuck. that's gonna be a problem for me later," he groans, his words rushing out of his mouth because damn, he just needs to kiss you again.

and kiss you again he does. his lips now moving feverishly with yours. his hands wander away from your face until they're on your shoulders, moving down even more until he's grabbing you under your arms and pulling you onto the countertop. now, standing between your legs, he can finally kiss you properly. one hand is back on your cheek, warm and soft while the other grips your hip tightly, bracing himself with the contact. your own hands reach out to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his dark black hair. a particular overly excited tug has him moaning against your lips, making you inhale as the sound sends ripples of pleasure down your body. he continues to kiss you feverishly, the pace of the kisses quickening and suddenly your body is not satisfied with the amount of distance between you. you need him closer. the only thing you can think of is to wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip and pulling him into you even more.

after a few more moments of kissing pass, you're both forced to separate from one another to catch your breaths. he's looking at you with blown out pupils, panting with his now swollen lips parted slightly. he's beyond hungry for you, and you love the feeling of knowing you look exactly the same in his eyes.

"let's take it back to my place." he finally manages to get the words out.

"is this not technically your place?"

"you're right. god, you're so smart." with a mischievous grin jay grabs your body and lays you on the countertop, hastily throwing your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass and burying his face in your clothed cunt while you squeal with laughter. any innocent passerby could see what the two of you are up to. jay hadn't gotten to the part of his closing checklist that includes pulling the shades down on all the windows. hell, all the lights are even still on, making a lovely spotlight for the two of you amongst the dark city streets.

but you've dreamt of this moment for so long that you don't even care.

jay has your pants off seconds later, too impatient to continue to play around. he just needs to taste you after all those nights waking up in a cold sweat, cock twitching spurts of cum into his boxers after dreaming of what you would look like sitting on his face, riding his cock, or how you'd look under him as he pounded you senseless. and now, he doesn't have to imagine it anymore. groaning as he continues to ravage you, hands groping anywhere he can reach, his tongue flicking skillfully against your swollen clit.

"j-jay. oh my god!" you cry out, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white, unprepared to come this quickly.

"my god, that's what you sound like screaming my name?" jay's standing now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before moving to undo his belt. "so much better than i imagined. you're not going anywhere tonight. you're going to scream my name until you can't speak anymore. i want that throat raw in every way possible. but for now..." he groans as he pushes the tip of his cock into your hole, stretching you in new ways you haven't felt before. your body adapts to him quickly, though, as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[angies-writing-blog]

Raising his hand, Wukong conjures a golden radiance that envelops you completely; its brilliance shimmering as bonds tighten around you, holding you in place as though time itself has chosen to pause just for you.

The world continues around — leaves whisper in the breeze, and in the distance, a river murmurs through the dense forest — yet you remain suspended, caught in this singular moment.

As you float in this suspended reality, he begins to circle you like a predator sizing up its prey, his focus entirely on you... almost playfully. Every movement he makes is deliberate, like a dance infused with both grace and a subtle undercurrent of menace.

The space between you narrows as he steps closer, moving with the calm assurance of someone in complete control. A palpable tension ripples through his form, coiled and ready to strike, but his eyes gleam with a deep, quiet satisfaction, betraying a sense of restrained power.

His presence commands the air around you, yet when his hand brushes your cheek, it is with a surprising gentleness—the same hand that has bent time to his will now caresses you with a touch that is both tender and charged with unspoken danger.

"Now this is more to my liking," he whispers softly, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in, allowing the moment to stretch between you, as though savoring the anticipation.

His fingers glide over your lips with the same care, their movement careful, mindful of the sharpness of his claws, a reminder of the threat that lies beneath his soft exterior.

Then, with a tenderness that contrasts sharply with the tension that preceded it, his lips brush against yours— soft as a whisper. The kiss lingers just long enough to leave an indelible impression, a fleeting memory of warmth that fades like a dream upon waking.

[smokbeast]

got a little too silly

[sora-art-513]

I Tried to take a Rest from drawing for a while😋 but then came cross a Template that I couldn’t resist when it comes to drawing this👀 it’s been such a long time since I did a Art challenge specially this one, it took some time for me to finish it but I had fun including drawing a lot of ships into this🙌🏼💕✨

[jack-o-phantom]

Possible redesigns of the guards!

Since they haven't done much in the past hundred years, im guessing they're pretty dusty in the creaks, poor Y/n has to deal with two large cats who see y/n as a toy

[spookyconductor]

the cutest patooties

[naffeclipse]

A Drive

Reader x Mob Bosses!Sun & Moon

Commission Info

Many thanks to @vixenfoxpup for giving me a go at the mob boss brothers. They are, I'm afraid to say, still dastardly. The mob bosses decide to take you away on a little drive, but they discover something along the dark and quiet city roads, something you're not telling them.

Content Warning for suggestive themes, abduction, implied abuse, and bruises.

———

You step carefully down the street, jacket pulled tight around you, weary of each rattle and grumble from passing cars, and erupting laughter from two men just outside of a speakeasy. The coils of anxiety within you are twining so tightly, you fear something will tear. You are too on edge for a city that is so lively. 

Inhaling the thick fumes of the city, catching oil and smoke and something much more rotten underneath it all, you continue towards your home. It’s been a long day, a long week. The sky is turning red from a bleeding sunset, and the light is quickly fleeting from the dark and dreary streets. 

You might have quickened your stride if you weren’t so exhausted. A heaviness pulses behind your eyes. For several days at your job, you’ve done nothing but struggle with prose and putting together a comprehensive piece for your boss to throw into the newspaper. 

The ghost of pain flares. Unwittingly, your fingers slip inside your jacket sleeve to caress a dark blossom of purple and blue over your wrist. Your skin seems so delicate though it’s not yet broken as it holds back the damage. 

You just have to get home. Taking a corner, the street seems to fall dead before your eyes. What would usually be bustling is not hush with the shadows thickly draping the sidewalk and the slick road. Fire burns in street lamps, solitary beacons in the infant night, as doors are shut and windows drawn close, and you wonder what happened to the businesses in this area. 

The walk home hadn’t seemed so lonely before. There is another you can blame on such a thing but you bite back any accusations and duck your head to stride quickly to your apartment. Maybe you could actually catch some shut-eye and not disappoint your boss tomorrow.

There’s always something to report, something going down, someone murdered and someone found washed up in the river. Corruption thrives in the festering wounds of the city, and you bear witness. 

There has to be something someone can do. On top of your private life struggles, a helplessness sinks down and drags you into the muck of the city. 

The last rays of the dying red sunlight disappear into a deep blue twilight, and you think about lying down on your bed only to twist and turn, fruitlessly chasing some hours of snoozing. Yellow lights guide your way home, and you stare into dark buildings with indifferent streets falling behind you.

Your pulse thrums in your ears. Evening your breath, you force your stride to not show any fear. The wrong person might not like your scent, might see someone without an escort and without any means of protection, and want to try their luck.

You don’t need any more bruises tonight.

At the end of the street, a vehicle rumbles into sight. Turning into view, great big headlights cut through the night and blind you momentarily. Forced to avert your gaze, you catch the deep growl of the engine as it creeps down the street. Your vision settles with two blots of afterimages seared into them, but you catch the dark make and model of the vehicle. It’s black as a hearse and sleek as polished onyx. 

Your heart immediately leaps into your throat. You turn away, immediately walking in the other direction. Squaring your shoulders and holding your head high, you try to not run—it might push them into a chase, like a predator unwilling to allow its prey to escape.

A dozen answers race through your mind: a hit and run, an ordered target, a problem that needs to be solved with lead and gasoline. It was always a possibility in your line of work—and you’ve rocked the boat on plenty of circles within the city from the counselors’ office all the way down to the low life gangsters that seek to keep polluting the people.

Your lungs constrict and deflate. Swallowing back a whimper, you continue striding purposefully down the sidewalk as if the black vehicle isn’t crawling behind you, lights fully placed onto your figure. Your shadow is startled and jumpy, twitching arms unable to decide to prepare for a fight or to run all the way to someone who might bear witness to the crime about to occur. 

You curse quietly in the echoes of your mind. You don’t want to die like this. You don't want to die. 

Behind you, a sudden stutter in the engine sounds as it jerks to a stop. 

Your heart explodes in your chest, adrenaline fueled into the recesses of your limbs, and you take off like an alley cat escaping the jaws of a mutt.

Doors open and footsteps pound behind you. Only a precious few strides closes the distance, and hands seize you, wrapping around your waist and snatching your legs before the familiar scent of bourbon and cigarette smoke reaches your senses.

That does not quell your furious struggle, attempting to kick your legs and claw at your abductors, but they haul you back to the vehicle and stuff you inside as if you were a mere lamb.

Before you can blink, doors slam shut, the vehicle lurches forward, and you’re caught in the darkness behind tinted glass. Fabric rustles before you’re pulled neatly onto the mob boss’s lab.

“Sun,” you utter, your throat thick with panic. Across the plush seats and dingy trails of cigarette smoke, sits his brother. You meet his gaze briefly before lowering it. “Moon.”

“Turtle dove,” a cheerful coo slips into your ear. The solar theme animatronic, crowned with bright yellow rays and a notorious infamy for his underworld business practice, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His arms trap you firmly against his chest. “The attempt to fly away from us was precious, but you wouldn’t have to lose your breath if you simply stayed where you were.”

You offer a noncommittal hum, unable to argue but unwilling to concede. 

Across the seat, Moon sits in the darkness, his pale eyes glowing red with a simper. He fixes his fedora with two fingers pinching the brim.

“If you wanted us to chase you, say the word,” his growl is low and saccharine, causing your pulse to jump, “I would have enjoyed giving you a better chance.”

“What chance would that be?” you ask warily. Sun’s hand slips down your cheek with warm, slender digits leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Next to nothing,” Moon chuckles, “but it would have had more sport in it.”

“For you,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes as Sun leans closely behind you. His hand softly wraps around the column of your throat, just under your chin.

“For me,” Moon grins wickedly. Then brusquely, he says, “Sunny, leave enough to share.”

“I’m not overindulging,” Sun’s voice, bouncing and dark, warms your ears until they turn red, “Not yet, anyways.”

His thumb strokes your pulse. Held still in his grasp, you fight the urge to gulp as Sun hums thoughtfully.

“Dollface, we’ve been so worried! We thought you might have forgotten about us!”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” you answer meekly. You glance down to his sharp suit. His half-lidded gaze peers around you, his eyes pale and haunting. 

You try to squirm free, to find some space where you’re not overwhelmed by the rich scent of his clothes and the metallic tang that almost hangs like blood in the air, but Sun leaves no room for escape. His arm cinches tightly over your waist. His faceplate is smooth and sleek, and his malleable mouth presses a kiss to the back of your neck, just above your jacket collar. You flinch slightly from the pressure on the sore and sensitive bruise circling your neck like a choker before flailing to cover it up.

“Where are you taking me?” you squeak in fright. Frantically, you up turn the collar of your jacket to conceal the bruises once more.

Sun becomes frozen, and you shift frantically in his lap. You almost turn to see his expression but dread what you will find. His hand falls away from your neck but they hover close to your arms, as if he wishes to grab you and whisk you away somewhere. 

“A little tour of the city,” Moon answers, and seizing his opportunity, reaches across the space and plucks you from Sun’s arms. 

The mob boss slides you onto his lap. The city lights flash past, dulled by the windows, and the night hangs heavier still outside. Your heart thunders within you. Silver and dark hands slip down your sides, rubbing you gently as if to soothe the anxiety boiling over within you. His touch slides down your legs, carefully caressing until you shiver. 

Sun sits strangely silent, as taut as the trigger of a gun. His expression catches on flashes of streetlamps, unreadable, but his eyes are wide and piercing the darkness. 

Moon at last cups your chin and turns it towards him. Attention ripped away from his brother, you struggle to not whimper under his daunting expression. His red glow dusts your cheeks. A frown forms on his face plate. He lifts a thumb and draws it in a half moon underneath your eye.

“When’s the last time you had a good night’s rest?” he murmurs. Your eyelids flutter, wondering how terrible you must look. 

You cage your tongue within your mouth, “Last night.”

His optics narrow into thin slits of red. “Naughty thing. Perhaps I should take you back with us. You would have a proper bed, and peace, and Sun and I to help you drift into dreams. Doesn’t that sound like heaven, my dear?”

You stiffen, and quickly try to deny your sleepless night, but pushing back against Moon only results in your wrist being captured.

Pain pulses, sucking in sharply through your teeth. Moon immediately becomes alert. He releases your chin to rip your jacket sleeve back and expose the dark circle wrapping your wrist like a bracelet. In response, you pull it back down.

“Take me home,” you utter.  

“What happened?” Moon growls. He lifts his head, refusing to release your arm though he grips it gingerly. “Who did this?”

“It was only me,” you answer, but you avert your gaze. “I fell down a step and hit it on the railing.”

“An accident,” Moon rasps, much lower. You fear he doesn’t believe you.

“Yes.” You unwittingly meet Sun’s gaze, and his hands have curled into iron-like fists. He still says nothing. The weight of his expression burns through you.

“Please,” you look at neither of them but plead with both, “Take me home.”

You catch the briefest glance shared between the brothers, silent and stormy. Moon shifts you back to the seat where Sun resides, and settles you between them. The quiet stretches as Sun gives a signal with his hand, and the driver turns a corner on the street. Instead of diving downtown, the vehicle returns to the higher streets where you were abducted. 

Sun’s hands caress your hair softly, twisting the strands between his fingers. A shiver rises up and over your scalp at the sweetness of his playfulness. The burn of his gaze resides on the back of your neck. Likewise, Moon’s touch does not leave your hand. His other strokes your knuckles and slips between your fingers until you shudder from the sensitive traces. 

Your street comes back into view, lonely and quiet and dark. The car parks quietly before your apartment building. A concern of them knowing where you leave is filed away for another time.

For several moments, neither mob bosses move, and you are trapped between them.

Sun grins but there is little joy in it, “We’ll see you again soon, turtle dove.”

“Very soon,” Moon echoes, his eyes darker, almost bordering on black before he at last opens the door for you.

You step out, freed. The black car peels away, leaving a scent of burnt rubber. You stand and stare at the vehicle turning away in the distance.

They shouldn’t have looked too close. Now you sit with a fear that they will go digger where they shouldn’t. It shouldn't matter at all to them.

You rub your wrist before touching the back of your neck. 

Though, this once, it matters to you that they’re involved.

[soni-dragon]

all throughout my life…

[nedeeress]

Millie and Moxxie as humans

[jadeazora]

Y'all remember the Secret Teams merch back when Ultra came out? We need more villain team-themed merch lines, the art was so cool! 🤩

(I actually have the Cyrus, Ghetsis, and Lysandre shirts from this line, as well as their Pikachu plushies + Guzma's. It's some of my favorite merch!)