#also i find it kind of rude because following the complaint up

[insurged]

love your writing, you're extremely talented but you bounce from fandom to fandom a bit too often

that's what the nature of multi muse blogs are unfortunately. i really don't know what else to say. i even added a rule about this to give everyone a heads up since some people aren't aware of the fact. right now my fixation is bg3 because i'm playing it and astarion is here to stay. if that upsets or annoys you, you can unfollow anytime ! maybe multi muse blogs aren't for you because for some people it isn't. just cater your own space to what you like and what you don't like. i'm not forcing you to stay. :)

[thesilmarillionblog]

COME CLOSER

Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits

Word Count: 4052

A/N: English is not my first language.

You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”

Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious. 

He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.” 

“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”

“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.” 

He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”

“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”

“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner. 

“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.” 

Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle. 

You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying. 

He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble." 

"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it." 

"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance. 

Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds. 

"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands. 

You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you." 

"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage. 

"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt." 

“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”

Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though. 

“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”

He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair. 

This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.” 

You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”

Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.

Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.

You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.

Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.

As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.

Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. 

“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried. 

His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment. 

Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together. 

“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled. 

You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly. 

“About?”

You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?” 

Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow. 

“You already heard me.” 

Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”

“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.

Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”

“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”

You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”

“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly. 

“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”

Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”

Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response. 

“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”

You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree. 

He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”

“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made. 

Ben mumbled, “I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest. 

His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that. 

“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”

You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.

You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.

Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.

As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.

When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.

He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”

He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.

You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.

“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.

You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.

With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”

You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.

“Ben, it feels sensitive.”

“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”

You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.

“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.

The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.

As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”

Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”

You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.

He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”

You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.

You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.

You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.

He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”

“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.

His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.

Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.

After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks. 

You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you. 

Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip. 

He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”

He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”

As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”

You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down. 

Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you. 

You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen. 

He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”

When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.

He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”

Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body. 

He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”

You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm. 

With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue. 

He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more. 

He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits. 

His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes. 

Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed. 

When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it. 

You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?” 

You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.

You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[hyunjilicious]

A/n: This was initially supposed to be the beginning of a longer fic but I ended up changing the plot a bit and this little thing doesn't fit in there anymore. So there's basically no plot here, just 3 bff's minding their own business when one of them decides to ask for a hickey :) you know, like all friends do.

Warnings: there's no smut, but I still wouldn't be comfortable with anyone underage reading it, so 18+ PLS. Also they're just friends but there's a hyunjin x reader x felix type of thing implied... idk... I love them both too much :/ (highly unedited, don't look at me, I just want it out of my drafts thank you) 1.4k

"Ok, I know this is gonna sound stupid, but bear with me for a second?" Hyunjin said, breaking the 10 minutes of silence that followed yours and Felix's relentless complaints about work and the last minute tasks you had been given. Once that topic had been exhausted, you each settled in a corner of your queen sized bed, entrapped by your phones. That was until Hyunjin spoke up.

"Yeah, what is it?" Felix answered but Hyunjin waited until he had your attention too before continuing.

"Can one of you give me a hickey?" 

Felix didn't even bother trying to answer, confusion just fell upon his features as he stared ahead, then at Hyunjin, who didn't even bat an eye, and then at you.

"Um?" you frowned, "Can you elaborate?"

"There are these girls at work that like me, I mean I think they do, and I've basically done everything to tell them I'm not interested but like… they don't get the hint, and they're very sweet, so I don't wanna be rude to them.. I figured this would be the best idea"

"You figured this would be the best idea?" Felix deadpanned.

"Yeah… they never walked up to me and told me they like me, so what kind of entitled asshole would I be if I just went to them and said 'Hey, I get that you're obsessed with me but I'm not interested'?"

Felix just blinked. "First of all, obsessed is a little bit too much, don't you think?"

"I agree. That's why I want a hickey"

"Just say you have a girlfriend"

"But I don't" Hyunjin shook his head, "That would be a lie. A hickey is just a hickey, and it'll make them assume I have someone"

"Or you could just talk to them" Felix tried again.

"Or you could just shut up and give me a hickey"

"I've never given anyone a hickey, I'm not doing it"

"I can do it" you offered, much to Felix's disappointment. It seemed that for whatever reason he assumed you'd be the rational one, but if anything, you understood very well what it was like to want to avoid difficult conversations.

"Thank you!" Hyunjin exclaimed.

"Come here"

"What? Now!?"

"What? Do you need to get ready? Need a moment of silence?"

"Um, no?" Hyunjin shily mumbled as Felix laughed in the background, "I just didn't expect you to do it now"

"We can do it later"

"No, no, no. Now is good"

"Ok, lay down" you instructed and shuffled closer to him. 

"Oh my god" Hyunjin chuckled as he let his weight fall back onto his shoulders while you straddled his hips. He watched you tuck your hair behind your ears and lick your lips, which made nervous giggles break past his lips as he threw his head back. "This feels so professional"

"Yes, y/n, the hickey master" you mocked and grabbed his hands, one forceful pull later and he was down flat on his back against the mattress. "Tell me if it hurts"

"I've gotten hickeys in the past, it wasn't that bad"

"Yeah because you were turned on and it was sexy. Now that's not the case"

"Hey, you're sexy" he grinned which made you slap his face away so you wouldn't have to see his eyes anymore.

"Oh god, I need to see this" Felix giggled and crawled closer, settling right next to you and directly above Hyunjin.

"You're breathing right into my face"

Felix wasn't having it, so he just smiled down at his friend. "You like it"

"Idiot"

With your lips inches away from Hyunjin's exposed neck, you found yourself struggling to find a starting point. Something felt off, a bit unnatural, and it made your ears tingle. "Ok, this is weird, but I don't know how to give hickeys without kissing too, so-"

"Kiss me, I don't mind"

"You're willing to make this sacrifice, huh?" Felix teased.

"Ok, but tell me if this starts to feel awkward, ok?"

"Y/n, you're both basically on top of me, one about to bite me and the other one looking at me like I'm a science experiment, awkward doesn't even begin to explain it"

"I'm sorry" you laughed, and despite the hurricane of thoughts that rushed through your brain at that exact moment, you shook your head one last time and finally closed the distance between the two of you.

Doing this robotically and by the book was never going to cut it, no matter how much experience you had and how many techniques you knew. So putting your faith into Hyunjin to tell you in case you went too far, you decided to do this right.

With your back arched and your body fully pressed against his, you snaked one hand up into hair, curling your fingers up around his roots as your lips started working on his still intact skin.

The kisses that initially started off as gentle and soft, turned fervid in a matter of seconds, your lips mercilessly sucking his perfect skin, morphing his light complexion into a perverse shade of red. 

Unconsciously, as you worked on the hickey on his neck, the hand that had been previously lightly tugging at his roots traveled down, gripping his chin and caressing its way down to his shoulders. 

Completely lost in the taste and feel of your best friend's skin, you failed to register the unnatural feeling of his hands on your thighs. You knew they were there, you felt their warmth down to your bones, but it never occurred to you that that had never happened before. So you let yourself get driven by his touch and refused to show any signs of slowing down as his curious hands made their way to your hips and then to your ass.

Fully engrossed by everything that was going on at once, you failed to notice the way Hyunjin was panting beneath you - his chest heaving up and down as his shaky, hot breath ran against your ear.

Once you figured you had him warmed up enough, you gave his neck the last bit of preparation which came in the shape of you licking up his jugular before you returned to your initial spot and sunk your teeth into his skin with no warning.

"Holy f-" he grunted, more than surely involuntarily bucking his hips up into you as his fingers dug into your hips. 

But it didn't deter you, you kept going - sucking, biting and licking all the right spots, keeping a steady pace until you felt satisfied with your work.

"Ok-" you said a bit out of breath before returning to pepper his traumatized skin with feather light kisses, "I think this should do it"

When you pushed yourself up to admire your work, Hyunjin hurried to hide his face behind his hands. "Oh my god"

"Was it good?" you grinned, placing your hands on his waist, ready to tickle a compliment out of him in case you needed to.

"I need a minute," he panted.

Deciding to give him the space he said he needed, your eyes moved to Felix. Despite not uttering one word, his face said a lot, his red cheeks, wide eyes and shy smile were enough to get the message across. 

Instantly, you opened your arms calling for a hug, but he just mirrored you and welcomed you when you finally crawled over to him. He gathered you close against his chest and pulled you down, the two of you now tightly wrapped together next to a still speechless Hyunjin.

"Was that awkward for you?" you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck from the sudden wave of embarrassment that washed over you. 

"No, don't worry, it wasn't awkward-" he assured you with a kiss on the top of your head. "It was a… good tutorial"

"I still find it shocking that you've never given a hickey before" 

"I think the reason for that is because I always hated receiving them," Felix confessed, which prompted Hyunjin to come back from the dead, one long pointer finger up in the air.

"That's because you've never gotten one from her" 

"Ok" Felix laughed, "Can we stop with the hickeys? I feel like I'm high-school all over again. Adults don't have hickeys"

"No," you corrected, "Adults don't have hickeys in places others can see. Except that one" you pointed to Hyunjin. 

"You're just jealous"

"Of what? The hickey I gave you?"

"I don't know" Hyunjin gave up with a sigh and lazily rolled off the bed, "I'm gonna have a shower"

"Have fun!" you both laughed and then settled back into a tighter cuddle once the room fell into silence again.

What is this abrupt ending? Idk either, I'm sorry 😖

[selenacosmic]

Hi! I loved reading the Teen! MC post about the report and it got me thinking: what if, just what if, our 16th century Warlords do in a PTA meeting with MC's teachers? I think that they could be MC's legal gaurdians.

I so think that the teachers would be terrified of Kenshin, Mitsunari would end up in the school library (somehow), Shingen/Masamune would be flirting, and so forth.

Thank you anyway!

Hello! I am really happy you liked it! And I find this idea to be very funny! Thank you for the request.

Warlords during a PTA meeting with teen!MC’s teachers.

Oda forces.

Nobunaga Oda.

Nobunaga has a naturally intimidating aura, so it’s safe to say that the teacher will have a hard time looking at him in the eye while talking to him about you. The teacher will consider asking if Nobunaga is your only guardian, but decided it was better not to.

Hideyoshi Toyotomi.

Hideyoshi will act more like a mother than a big brother when meeting with your teacher, possibly thinking of ways to scold you if you caused any trouble. The teacher will have an easy time talking to Hideyoshi as he will be attentive to every detail.

Mitsuhide Akechi.

The teacher will be intimidated and confused, perhaps gaslighted too. Mitsuhide won’t hold back in using his silver tongue to put the teacher on edge whenever they talk about you. Mostly to mess with your teacher.

Masamune Date.

Just as expected, if Masamune finds the teacher cute in any way, he will flirt in the middle of the meeting. It will barely give time for the teacher to actually talk about you. In the end, the teacher will ask for another guardian to talk to them.

Mitsunari Ishida.

The teacher will be left waiting for Mitsunari to come, but he won’t even show up. It’s not because he didn’t want to, but he got distracted around the school and got into the library. And he got lost in there too.

Ieyasu Tokugawa.

Ieyasu will seem a bit impatient, which will put the teacher on edge while talking, but he will listen to everything they have to say about you. Of course, if the teacher doesn’t get straight to the point, Ieyasu will demand that they do.

Ranmaru Mori.

The teacher will question if Ranmaru really is a legal guardian, he looks so young it’s hard to believe he is your older brother. Ranmaru will be very attentive and, if there are complaints from the teacher, Ranmaru will promise that you will get better.

Keiji.

Keiji is the type of big brother who will act all cheery and understanding in front of the teacher, but if there are any complaints, he will scold you. Of course, it will be followed by some encouragement from him.

Uesugi-Takeda alliance.

Kenshin Uesugi.

If the teacher was scared by Nobunaga, they will be terrified by Kenshin. They will have a hard time at speaking at first but will open up a bit more. Of course, Kenshin doesn’t like to hear that the teacher has complaints about his little sister, one cold glare is enough for the teacher to end the meeting.

Shingen Takeda.

Just like Masamune, shingen won’t hesitate to flirt with the teacher. He will listen more than masamune, though, staying quiet when it really matters. He will say how the teacher won’t have to worry their pretty head because his little sister would be better and improve. The teacher will be so flattered they won’t mind having shingen as the legal guardian in every meeting.

Yukimura Sanada.

The teacher will also question if Yukimura can be qualified as a legal guardian, since he looks so young as well. Yukimura will listen and hold back any comments that may sound rude. He will be happy if the teacher praises you, but also he surprised. Just because he is that kind of big brother.

Yoshimoto Imagawa.

Yoshimoto will leave the teacher flattered with his beauty, he will actually bring his beautifully decorated fan to the meeting just to fan himself during the conversation. Even Yoshimoto’s soft words will leave the teacher at ease.

Sasuke.

Sasuke will be the most… “normal” out of the bunch, he will listen to every word the teacher says and will take them into consideration. The teacher will find him a bit weird though, since Sasuke never expresses his emotions facially.

Kanetsugu.

Kanetsugu is another one who will be intimidating, he won’t talk much and just listen. If it’s more praises from the teacher than complaints, he will praise you as well with head pats. If he hears more complaints, he will scold you. And Kanetsugu can be scary when he scolds.

[yana-marie]

Greed

Yesterday, working at the theatre. We were sold out and even sold more tickets than we officially have capacity for (the Italian director of the play and her boyfriend demand to watch every single performance of the play...). The play is about a famous singer and diva, who died in 2002. Its set in the netherworld, where she meets the devil to reevaluate her life and decide whether she wants go to hell or heaven, it premiered last week. Yesterday, about five press people went to watch the play and a friend of the actor that plays the devil. One of those press people, that is always accompanied by whom I call "his little wifey" (because they're always together and she seems to follow him around like a dog), is actually sitting across me in the café where I settled down to study right now. Anyway, yesterday was busy. We started 10 minutes late (which is a very rare occasion), because we waited for the relatives of our own press officer, who came to watch the play. Funny situation when 150 people and the actors are all just waiting for three people to arrive... When it finally started, I was happy, but when just 15 minutes into the play one woman stormed out the theatre hall, I was not amused.

I didn't even bother to approach her and just let her settle in the foyer. I am used to snobs and am not into hearing their complaints, or rather into asking to hear their complaints. At this point it was just her, me and my bar-colleague in the foyer. Eventually the bar-colleague left and the woman finished her white wine. She then approached me to sell her a new glass. We used to keep businesses separate, but since this new era of the theatre, we decided that the box office people should help out the bar-colleague if we can. So it happened that while I struggled to find where my colleague keeps the pinot gris, she told me why she left the theatre so early into the play. She shared how she was there with her father who had attempted to end his life recently. He apparently has Alzheimer's and that woman was my mother's age, so he wasn't particularly moved by the play that thematised the singer's grandfather ending his own life, her singning a song about it even. But for the woman, the situation was too absurd and sad, which I can understand. When I watched the play last week, I did not continue watching after the break either. I myself cannot handle the topic of death to that intensity. When I had finally found the wine, I decided to pour a bit more than we would normally pour in her glass. So she can distract herself, whatever. It happened that in this exact moment my colleague comes back from wherever he was and instead of thanking me for serving his customers, he tells me to pour less wine for the guests next time, in a very condescending tone -- when the woman was still standing right in front of us! I couldn't believe hisinsensitivity and lack of professionalism. I just thanked the woman, who also tipped us kindly, and turned around to my box office without even acknowledging my colleague. For the rest of the evening I kept my office door shut and when my shift ended I went up to him and told him what had happened and why I poured her slightly more. I told him to perhaps give me instructions not directly in front of the guests next time. I am used to this kind of condescending behaviour from past jobs that I had. Colleagues that love to humiliate you in front of the customers, colleagues that lack any degree of empathy and integrity, those who apparently are so bitter that they turn sadistic. But I am not used to this from him. He has always been a very kind and understanding person. He came to Germany twenty years ago from Bangladesh. Ever since, he has worked hard and runs several businesses. We always gossip and complain about how rude and cold Germans are and I had believed that he was my friend. But in the past weeks, I begin to see that this is just a work friendship, not pure. It's a symbiosis: if he is nice to me, I help him do his job, and I get occasional free coffees and silly, meaningless small talk to make time pass faster. My other colleagues aren't as friendly to the bar-guy as I am, they will shut him up and tell him they want to concentrate on the work. He always praises me for being so social and collegial, but I am beginning to think that I was just manipulated. That I am so inherently lonely, that I will mistake work-friendships for actualy friendships and that I let myself get used. When the other day, I helped him clean the foyer I dropped a tray with glasses and cups (something that just happens sometimes in the serving industry), he treated me as if I had intentionally caused him harm. He didn't talk to me the minutes afterwards. And what broke was really just one glass. At that point I got suspicious already and after yesterday's situation, I think I see clearly. He is overworked and has turned greedy. Of course, I get that being self employed and running businesses is hard, but it should never make you the person to humiliate your colleague in front of a customer. He has turned into what he hates most: greedy and unsocial German.

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Part 21!

So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.

So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).

Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.

(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)

Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)

***

Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.

For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.

He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.

The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.

“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”

The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.

She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.

(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)

(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)

“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.

(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)

“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”

Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.

“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”

Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.

“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”

“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.

Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.

“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”

“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”

Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.

“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”

He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.

Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.

Jason desperately wants to know the long version.

“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”

She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.

“No? How about ���best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”

She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.

Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.

To any of that, really.

“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”

“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.

She snorts.

“In human years, maybe.”

And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.

(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)

Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.

Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.

It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.

It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.

This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.

“Phantom.”

“Greg.”

“That is not my name.”

By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.

The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.

For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.

Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.

Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.

“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”

“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.

“It has been an hour, Phantom.”

He floats to her side to point towards the palace.

“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”

“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”

“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.

“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.

“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”

And then she turns and zooms away.

He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.

He watches until the eye disappears into the building.

At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.

“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”

“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.

Danny snorts.

“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”

‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’

“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”

Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.

He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”

“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”

And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.

“Right. Sure, tour away.”

He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.

Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.

What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???

Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?

Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.

Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.

----------------------

The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.

The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.

They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.

Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.

A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.

At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.

The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.

Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’

It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.

Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.

“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”

He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.

“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”

“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.

“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.

But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”

“Impressive,” Jason says softly.

And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.

Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.

The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.

“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”

Jason stops cold.

“Jazz.” He echoes.

Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.

Who had gifted him a gun.

Who had expressed her own love for literature.

They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-

“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.

Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.

“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.

Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.

Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.

“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”

A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.

“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.

“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”

Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.

“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.

“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.

Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”

“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.

“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”

“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”

The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.

A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.

A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.

A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.

The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.

Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.

Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.

An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.

A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.

Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.

“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"

They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.

He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.

He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

Fun Facts!

Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.

But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.

Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]

Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.

[resurrection-of-soul]

Flashback | BIOHAZARD 10

Writer: Akira (日日日)

Characters: Rei, Kaoru, Koga, Keito, Adonis

Koga: (Now that you mention it, Ricchi can be pretty rude too. I mean, sometimes he'll just go "move it" n' literally kick me outta the way.)

[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]

Kaoru: So basically, it's totally your fault, Sakuma-san.

Rei: Ehhh~? Okay, sure, go ahead n' just blame it aaaaaaall on lil' ol' me¹~ ♪

Rei: (Why does past me have such a rotten attitude!?)

Koga: (People get fooled by yer old man gimmick, but even nowadays you can give people some serious attitude.) (At the very least, y'ain't real polite, goin' around puttin' your feet up on tables n' stuff like some kinda delinquent.)

Rei: (Ritsu also tends to put his feet up on the furniture, you see. ♪ When siblings share the same habits, you find yourself thinking, "they must be close ♪" That sort of thing serves well as a conversation starter, does it not?)

Koga: (Now that you mention it, Ricchi can be pretty rude too. I mean, sometimes he'll just go "move it" n' literally kick me outta the way.)

Rei: (The two of us hold such high-ranking positions within our clan that none dared to scold us even when we exhibited such disrespectful behavior.)

Koga: (Haaah. On top a' that you're way too soft on Ricchi, so there's no way ya ever managed to scold 'im the way an older brother should, huh.)

Adonis: (Quiet. Our past selves seem to be talking about something important.)

Kaoru: After the "Dead Man's Live" the other day, Sakuma-san ran off and went overseas without a word—

Rei: I had work to do, okay? I'm focused on overseas activities. It's my literal job.

Kaoru: Mhm. But, like, because of that, the followers you left behind here in Japan started imitating your worst behaviors and causing all sorts of trouble?

Keito: Sakuma-san's…followers?

Koga: Th-the hell're you lookin' at me for?

Kaoru: Ahaha. You remember how Sakuma-san called on all the delinquents who were hanging around to act as his allies during the "Dead Man's Live," right?

Rei: Oh, if we're talkin' about that, it was just for the competition. So what?

Kaoru: So everyone, like, totally misunderstood? They're like, "we're friends with Sakuma Rei, a world-class superstar."

Rei: Ughhh…

Kaoru: And because of that, they've gotten totally carried away, going around calling themselves "vampires" and causing all kinds of havoc by running wild, eating and drinking excessively without paying for a thing. "We're underlings of the Sakuma Rei, so hold your heads high! Don't hold back!" or whatever. Just checking here but you're not, like, the one telling them to act this way, right? Cause those "vampires," they're going around all like, "If you've got any complaints, go tell 'em to our boss, Sakuma Rei!" and stuff, y'know?

Rei: Are ya stupid? What would I get outta tellin' people to do such a shitty imitation of me? It's just a buncha morons who misunderstood and went wild on their own. Borrowin' the tiger's terror²… Man, they're even dumber than I thought.

Kaoru: Yeah, I figured it was something like that? Still, those guys really are like "vampires." They take in other delinquents and add them to their ranks, quickly multiplying their numbers. In terms of size and general vibe, they're almost like one of those color gangs³ from a while back. When they eat and run, or start fights in front of stores, it disrupts business. This area's already in the middle of a recession, so, like, even small stuff like that ends up being a huge blow. You get what I'm saying? You've gotta clean up after yourself. These people showed up because of you, Sakuma-san, so you should take care of it somehow. The local businesses even pooled their resources and put together some reward money. Oh yeah, on that topic, I'm acting as the point of contact since we go to the same school, but I want you to think of this as a request from everyone in the neighborhood. Of course, if push comes to shove, I'll totally call the cops. But, y'know, most Yumenosaki students come from influential families, so… Who knows whether the police will actually do their jobs properly. Things would go way more smoothly if you guys could just deal with it, y'know? That's why I'm like, totally counting on you to slay the "vampires" ♪

Rei: Ahaha. Funny coincidence, never thought I'd end up imitatin' Van Helsing.

Keito: You're usually more of a Count Dracula, after all.

Rei: …Well, I understand the situation. I mean, I'd already more or less figured it out, so I went ahead n' took the initiative. Here, look. He seems kinda pitiful given the way we've just been ignorin' 'im the whole time, but I already caught the culprit.

Adonis: ……..

Keito: I don't understand. What do you mean, Otogari is the culprit?

Rei: I mean this guy here's the vampires' boss. To go back to the Dracula analogy, the best way to kill him is by drivin' a stake through his heart to stop him from movin' and then decisively cuttin' off the head. And this, right here, is the vampire's head. In short, if we get rid of this guy, the incident'll be resolved. Simple, ain't it? ♪

Adonis: ......

[ ☆ ]

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ore-sama-chan. This man is so annoying (complimentary).

Taken from the title of the Chinese fable "The Fox Borrows the Tiger's Terror," this is an idiom meaning to bully or frighten people using someone else's authority.

A type of Japanese street gang which aims to imitate the look and feel of American street gangs, though it should be noted that color gangs tend to be more of a "rebellious youth" thing than an actual crime thing. Some of them do get up to actual serious crimes, of course, but the majority of color gangs exist to unnerve adults, disrupt the peace, and give rowdy teens an excuse to punch other rowdy teens. Picture a bunch of weirdly color-coordinated delinquents committing petty crimes, rather than violent street gangs engaging in serious illegal activity.

[bryandeam-blog]

Flag on the play!

I wish, just like there is a yellow flag thrown in football, for unnecessary roughness, you could throw one for unnecessary 'jerkness.'

I had a very unpleasant phone call earlier with an editor from a newspaper i was hoping to get permission from for work. That being said, i was angry with myself for not snapping back at her, and inquiring as to why it took her so long to just tell me 'no.'

But in the end, i feel much better, and am somewhat thankful, because she actually proved to be inspiring. And i didn't return her negative favor by stooping to her level.

Often, when we feel slighted or mistreated by a business, a letter of complaint is in order. As i started to draft one, purely for my own ventilation and not for actual sending, i quickly realized i was being too kind and professional in something that would never be seen by the paper. So i went back with my red pen, made some edits, and ended up with this:

Dear ***** ****** ******, I write this letter out of concern for the safety of you and your editorial staff. I have reason to believe that an evil Gremlin, possibly from an underground cavern that recently opened due to a flux in seismic activity, has infiltrated your pressroom. Over a month ago I submitted a request for reprint permission, to which I received no voluntary response. After a series of follow up’s, including several timely calls and 2 emails outlining the request, I actually made contact with what appears to be said Gremlin. You may wonder what reason I have to believe that I was speaking with an evil Gremlin, and not a human member of your staff, but I can assure you I have ample evidence. The first piece of which, is the sheer fact I find it hard to believe you would staff your organization with such a rude, and negative individual who lacks so much professionalism. I was also ignored for over 4 weeks (the approximate gestation period for several Gremlin species above ground, with the exception of the Maguai, which can transform into a Gremlin in less than 12 hours after eating past midnight). The Gremlin also denied me permission for reprinting the article I had requested, based on the fact it would be “commercial use.” The fact that such a vague reason for denial was used in conversation, but specified nowhere on your website, made me suspicious. It then made me question whether the individual using it, had proper knowledge of it’s definition. (Poor vocabulary and grammar are two tell-tale characteristics of Gremlins... Since there aren’t many dictionaries underground, and there’s almost no light to actually read them) My inquisition led to this definition from Merriam Webster: Commercial: a (1) : occupied with or engaged in commerce or work intended for commerce <a commercial artist> (2) : of or relating to commerce  <commercial regulations> (3)   : characteristic of commerce  <commercial weights> (4): suitable, adequate, or prepared for commerce <found oil in commercial quantities>  b (1): being of an average or inferior quality <commercial oxalic acid> <show-quality versus commercial cattle> (2) : producing artistic work of low standards for quick market success 2a: viewed with regard to profit <a commercial success>  b: designed for a large market (3): emphasizing skills and subjects useful in (4): supported by advertisers <commercial TV> The reprint was not going to be used in an advertisement (so 4’s out) and it wasn’t going to be sold (which almost knocks out all of the other uses of the word) and then it hit me: Isn’t every business, including your own, technically commercial? I mean, what business or operation isn’t? They all make money some how. That’s the point! By now, I KNEW you had a serious problem on your hands. Gremlins can be tricky creatures, but there are a few ways you can rid yourself of this nuisance, before it does too much damage to your paper, and/or your image. First, you should find where ******** ******* sits, (as this is who I was trying to make contact with when I encountered the Gremlin) and torch her entire cube. Douse it in gasoline, and just let that mother burn. It’s the only way to ensure any Gremlin eggs it may have stored in the drawers and file folders will be destroyed and keep from hatching. (Chances are she won’t be in it, since Gremlins have an insatiable thirst for Birch beer, and she will need to go guzzle some in the bathroom every 8 minutes or so). Then, ‘fire her.’ Gremlins HATE fire. They hate the actual flames and heat of a real fire, and they even hate the word. In the event that you are scared that my conclusions are far fetched, or possibly incorrect, fear not, for I look at this as a win win either way: If ******** WAS replaced by an evil Gremlin, then you are nipping this problem in the bud now, and can live hakuna matata throughout the rest of your business. If she WASN’T replaced by a Gremlin, then she should be fired anyways, cause she’s a short, patience-lacking BIATCH with no rapport for customer service, and a serious lack of professionalism you shouldn't want to be associated with anyways. Please find this letter as a useful tip, in either outcome. Thanks, and good luck with that Gremlin. -Anonymous

[getwhore]

me & ur mama! (jean kirschtein)

❀summary : Jean Kirschtein. He's been your son's best friend for as long as you can remember. He's also had the biggest crush on you since, you've met, as have you, but you're too oblivious to have noticed. It's okay! He'll show you exactly how much he adores you!

❀content warning : modern!au jean x fem/milf!reader , lovers at first sight (kinda) , age gap , almost forbidden love , degrading, praise!!!! , jean's kind of a creep & an asshole , missionary/mating press & backshots , oral (fem recieving) , clit slapping (like twice) , squirting , orgasm denial , abso-fucking-lutely no protection (except reader's birth control) , daddy & mommi kink <3 , kinda get caught so kinda exhibition , jean is also a sadist

❀word count : 6.1k (6,141)

❀a/n : y'all, it took me TWO months to finish this. was it worth it? i surely hope so. to keep it short, i really hope you all enjoy this one! i'm still working on some more wips, but i'm open to any requests :) (just plssss read my rules first, ty!!)

Your son Connie finally returns from college today. Even though you're eager to see him, you've been a little uneasy because he's bringing someone. You won't know who it is until they both enter the room, which is unfortunate for you. Like any other mother, you immediately assumed he was bringing a girlfriend or even a boyfriend! This, however, was not at all the case.

You’ve spent all day cleaning your home, baking cookies, cooking dinner, and anything else to make Connie and his company feel more than welcome. Just as you pulled your cookies out of the scalding oven, you heard Connie calling out for you. Immediately, you leave your cookies on the counter, and quickly make your way to the front door. Out of pure excitement, you’ve completely ignored the tall man standing beside Connie. You shower Connie with kisses, squeezing him with all of your strength.

“Mom, you’re fuckin’ squeezing me to death.” Connie gasped, trying his hardest to pry you off of his body.

“I’ve just missed you so much! I don’t think you understand how lonely I am when you leave!” You squeezed him harder, only letting go once you felt that you’ve made him suffer enough. When you pulled away from him, you were able to get a clear view of who walked in the door with him. When you did realize who it was, your heart began beating rapidly.

“I can’t believe I was so rude to completely ignore your presence! It’s so great to see you again, Jean!” You pulled him into a hug as well, pressing his face into your cleavage. Though it was accidental, you received absolutely no complaints from Jean.

“It’s great to see you too, Ms. l/n. Have you gotten shorter since the last time we saw each other?”

You giggled, making your chest bounce against Jean’s cheek. He didn’t intend for you to find the joke funny. All he needed was a slight chuckle to get your breasts to somewhat bounce against him. Unfortunately for him, you eventually pulled him from your chest.

“You boys make yourselves comfortable! I’m almost finished with dinner.” You smiled at both men before making your way back into the kitchen.

You stayed in the kitchen for the following 30 minutes in silence. You believed Connie and Jean had gone upstairs to unpack and take a nap before dinner. Only one puzzle piece was still missing. Jean had come downstairs for a "drink of water". You had no idea that Jean had been watching from a distance. He had been observing your every move—the way you knelt down to pick up a pan, the way you reached for the spices in the cabinet while standing on the tips of your toes, the way your ass would jiggle ever so slightly as you lowered yourself to the floor. He kept an eye on everything you did. He was more than just aroused, to put it mildly. Though he would have loved to act like the pervert he is and jerk off to you in the hallway, he decided that getting close to you would be preferable. Before entering the kitchen, he put himself together in the hallway. Hearing his footsteps enter the kitchen, you spun around.

“Hey Jean! I hope you aren’t down here for dinner because it’s far from ready.” You grimaced as you looked into the pot on the stove.

“Nah, I came for water, but I’ll gladly take one of these cookies.” Jean made his way over to the plate of cookies. He went to grab one, but you immediately snatched his hand away.

“Nuh-uh, no cookies until after dinner! You’ll spoil your appetite, and I spent a lot of time on this dinner.”

He was barely able to maintain eye contact with you. You were slightly taller than him, so he was almost eye level to your tits. If he wasn’t staring at your tits, he was staring at your lips, imagining how soft they’d feel wrapped around his cock. Ultimately, his body made him lose his entire train of thought.

“What exactly are you making for dinner? You’ve been stirring that pot for forever.”

“It was my attempt at spaghetti. It’s Connie's favorite, and I wanted it to welcome him home. The only problem is, I have no idea how to make it a little spicier. I’ve tried chili powder, I’ve tried pepper, I’ve tried red pepper flakes, hell, I’ve even tried hot sauce! I just can’t seem to get it right.”

You sulked as Jean observed. He made an effort to comprehend how significant this lunch was to you. You wanted Connie's first night home in a year to be memorable because it was. Your spaghetti, however, did not resemble spaghetti at all. In fact, it resembled overcooked noodles drenched in a vomit like green sauce. However, he would keep that a secret. Even though he's an asshole, he wouldn't be so cruel as to make fun of you for trying. Instead, he comfortingly gripped your shoulders.

“Y’know, you don't have to make dinner. Honestly, we’ve had a long drive, and something light would be better. Plus, I wanna try that pool of yours out and I can’t do that on a heavy stomach.”

You started to cry a little, but Jean's kindness made you laugh. You two decided that perhaps a lighter supper would be better for all of you. You all caught up over pizza that evening. The more you laughed during the night thanks to Connie, the more Jean could observe the vulgar bouncing of your breasts. He glanced a couple times, and you saw it, but you didn't think much of it.

Once you all finished with dinner, Jean volunteered to help you with the dishes while Connie took his shower. You appreciated the company, especially since it’ll give you a chance to catch up with Jean. For Jean, it gave him an opportunity to find some way between your legs.

“So, how’s college? I had no idea you and Connie were going to the same college! Then again, he never does tell me anything about his life.”

Jean chuckled as he handed you the soapy plate for you to rinse. “Well, college is college. Lots of books, lots of people, lots of classes, and everything else. However, the only thing that’s missing are the pretty girls.”

His words made you feel somewhat jealous. He was so young and had so much life to live. You knew there was almost no chance that you’d be with him. You were able to cope with that when he and Connie were in a whole other state. Now that he’s here in the same kitchen as you, so close to you, it’s harder to ignore your feelings.

“Well, don’t spend all your time in college looking for a girl. You have a lot of life ahead of you and there’s more important things besides looking for a relationship.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Ms. l/n.”

You sighed and looked at him. “Jean, I’ve told you multiple times to just call me y/n. There’s no need for formalities.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just don’t want to be disrespectful to such a beautiful woman.”

Hearing that made you blush heavily. You couldn’t tell if it was from the 3 glasses of wine you had 20 minutes before, or if it was because Jean had called you beautiful very unexpectedly.

“It isn’t disrespectful if I’ve already said it was okay! You’ve been friends with Connie for years and I’m glad you have. He’s happy with your friendship, so I’m even more happy!”

Jean smiled at you, not exactly knowing how exactly he should respond without obviously flirting with you. Once you finished with the dishes, you made your promise to Jean. You slipped into your two-piece bikini and made your way into the pool area. When you arrived, Jean was nowhere to be seen. While you waited, you went ahead and got into the pool, trying to get used to the water temperature before Jean came to join you. When he did finally come outside, you were turned away from him, giving him a full view of your ass. The bikini you wore left little to the imagination, it barely even covered your ass. It might as well have been non-existent. All Jean could do was stare, wondering how your ass would look while taking you from behind, how it would look while you’re on your knees sucking his cock. When you turned around, he realized just how revealing your bikini was. The top was worse than the bottom. The way it hugged tightly around your large breasts made Jean want to do nothing more than take you where you stood.

“Jean, honey are you okay? You look really flushed. We don’t have to swim today if you aren’t feeling well.”

God the way you said his name made him even harder than he was before. He simply shook his head, trying to rid himself of his lewd thoughts as he walked to the edge of the pool. Seeing the way Jean looked down at you with a slight smirk made your cunt throb. You haven’t felt this way in forever. You couldn’t even maintain eye contact with Jean with the way he was making you feel.

“Nah, I’m good. ‘S just kinda warm out here.” Jean chuckled lightly.

Eventually, Jean joined you in the pool, swimming towards you. When he did reach you, you couldn’t help but stand there and stare at him. The way his body looked, the way he looked at you, the way his eyes bored into you. Everything and anything Jean did made you feel weak, and he could see it. He could see how tense you got when he moved closer to you. He could see your eyes shifting from his body to his face, then from his face to the growing tent in his pants. 

“Are you gonna stop staring, or am I gonna have to make you?”

You hadn’t even realized how long you were staring until he pointed it out. This made you instantly blush. The embarrassment kept you from being able to actually respond to his question. As he waited for your answer, you were trying your hardest to muster the courage to respond without sounding stupid.

“I-I wasn’t staring! I was only looking at the rose bush! It’s not my problem that you just happen to be standing directly in front of it.”

He chuckled..well, no. He laughed. He laughed at your response. You knew that he knew you were lying right through your teeth. All you could do was stand there, watching as he tried to catch his breath, but everytime he did, he just laughed even harder. Finally, after forever, he stopped laughing.

“That was the best excuse you could come up with? C’mon, I thought you’d give me something way more believable.”

“You are standing in front of the rose bush though.”

“Stop it with the damn rose bush. You can’t stare at something below you and something above you at the same time.”

“Jean, what the hell are you talking about?”

Jean sighed. At this point, he knew you would keep rambling just to avoid the confrontation. However, he couldn’t stand listening to you ramble about the damn rose bush any longer.

“You were staring at my dick. And before you even start with that goddamn rose bush, I saw you repeatedly look up at me and then back down at my pants. If you wanna touch it, just say that.”

“Excuse me?! Jean, that is extremely inappropriate of you to say something like that. Even if I did, I would never grope my son’s friend. That would be irresponsible of me as a mother.”

“If you give such a shit about being responsible, why are you still fighting the urge to stare at my cock?”

He was right. You had been holding your hands tightly in front of you. In reality, you desperately wanted to touch his cock. As much as you hate to admit it, you could give a shit less about being responsible or respected by Jean. In fact, you’d rather him be disrespectful to you. Just you biting your lip was enough of an answer for Jean. Without thinking, he picked you up, setting you on the edge of the pool. As of now, he was face to face with your breasts. Being this close to them for the second time of the night made him groan. 

You hold back a moan as Jean roughly grabs your tits. The way they overflow from his big hands make you whine. Jean didn’t look up at you once. He was mainly concerned about how soft your tits were and how perky your nipples were as they pebbled through your bikini top. 

“Not so worried about being such a ‘responsible mother’ now, are you?” Jean chuckles at your shy, but lewd reaction.

“Jean, you should stop! Connie might come out any minute!”

He didn’t stop though. He knew you couldn’t care less about your son coming out and catching the both of you. “C’mon, you know Connie. He goes right to sleep after his showers, and, as long as you don’t get too loud, he won’t catch us. Though, you might like the idea of him actually coming down and catching us.”

Yeah you definitely would love that idea, but it’s too early to try anything like that. You shouldn’t even be letting him touch you. Especially not so lewdly. You’d been so caught up in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized that Jean was untying your bikini top until it was too late. Before you could protest, Jean pulled you into a kiss. It wasn’t the romantic kind of kiss that you’d be looking forward to. This kiss was more heated, more passionate. The aggressive hand behind your head pulling you closer to his lips, the rough clashing of teeth, the lewd exchange of each other’s saliva, all of it was enough to make you soaked in your bikini bottoms. You’d been so caught up in your lewd exchange of kisses with Jean, you hadn’t seen Jean’s hand creep up towards your middle. Though, even if you had noticed, you wouldn’t have stopped him.

“Jean, are you sure you want to do this? I’d hate to let my feelings come between you and my son’s relationship”

Jean knew you were trying to be sincere about it, but he also knew you wanted this as much as he did, even if it did hurt the relationship between him and your son.

“Of course I’m sure. How couldn’t I be when you’re practically begging me to fuck you. The question is, are you sure, Ms. l/n?” Jean watches your face redden when your last name smoothly and sexily rolls off his tongue.

Even if you weren’t so sure, it’s not like you could back out now. Especially not when he’s got one hand tightly gripping your waist and one hand pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples through your tiny bikini top. He knew you wouldn’t pass up this opportunity, knew you’d do anything to feel him inside of you.

As hard as you fought to speak through your moans, you merely failed, barely managing to whisper ‘Yeah, ‘m suuuure’, as your words began to slur. He couldn’t help but laugh a little at the way he was already mushing your brain. All you needed was a little push, and you were like putty in his hands.

“Yeah..yeah you are sure. Especially with how wet you are, how couldn’t you be sure?” Jean mocked you as he ran a finger through your slit. The squeal that left you made him shiver. He ached to touch you, he yearned to feel you, but he knew that making you beg for it would have a greater outcome.

“Jean-fuuuck!” You threw your head back, slightly grinding your hips into his finger. You knew he was teasing you like this on purpose, but who were you to not give him what he wants?

“C’mon, you complained about being too loud, but it seems like you want Connie to find you like this.” Jean pulled his finger away, immediately popping it into his mouth. He deeply sighed, the taste of you on his tongue making him want to do more than turn you into a brainless slut.

“First, you open the door in that tight ass shirt, and that tiny little pair of shorts with your cute little baking apron tied tightly around your hips.” Jean kissed down your body, inching ever so slowly towards your pussy. “Then, you prance around the house, looking like such a slut with these tits out. It’s like you wanted me to fuck you. And now, here you are, begging me to touch that slutty pussy, begging me to make you cum all over my face. You could care less if your son caught us. You wouldn’t stop me no matter how embarrassed you are. You want me to fuck you, to own you, to disrespect that nasty cunt until you cum.”

He was right. You wanted nothing more than to let Jean have complete control of your body and you could give less of a shit if Connie were to see. In fact, a small part of you hoped that he would see. Somehow, the thought of getting caught having sex with your son’s best friend made you wetter than before. At this point, you were done with the teasing, willing to do anything just to finally have Jean inside of you.

“J-Jean, please just fuck me”, You whimpered, watching Jean pay no attention to your begging and pleading . His focus was strictly on your cunt and the way it tightly clenched when his breath fanned over it.

“Nah, you don’t deserve it yet.” Jean pressed his thumb to your clit, watching how you immediately arch into his touch. As much as he adored the way you whined and grabbed at his wrist to keep his thumb in its place, he didn’t like how you thought you had any kind of control in this situation. Instead of punishing you for it, he let it slide just this once. “Stop movin’ so much or I won’t give you anything.”

You couldn’t even voice a response before Jean licked a long, and tantalizing slow stripe up your slit. The way his tongue laid flat against your clit, slightly flicking it up while rubbing your entrance with his thumb. Jean saw exactly how he made you feel. He calculated every movement you made and tried his hardest to make you do it over and over and-

“Are you even listenin’ to me? ‘Course you’re not, you’re too busy trying to get yourself off on my tongue.” Jean deeply sighed as he removed himself from between your legs.

“N-No! I was listening, I promise! Pleas-” You sobbed, grabbing onto Jean. You were immediately shut down when he grabbed your face in one hand, forcing you to look at him. The deadly glare, the orgasm that he denied you from, the aggression of his hand on your face, all of it was enough to have your eyes watering and your bottom lip wobbling.

“Shut the fuck up. ‘M so tired of listening to you whine and cry like a pathetic bitch.” Jean briefly let go of your face, but not for your own relief. He immediately used that hand to grab your throat while he used his other to slap you a bit. “You’re so used to gettin’ what you want. You’ve got the perfect life, the perfect body, the perfect son, everything. You’re just a spoiled fuckin’ brat and I’m tired of it.”

“‘M sorry Jean, wont whine anymore, I won’t complain, I’ll take anything you give me. Just..just wanna feel you, all of you.” You cried, grabbing onto the back of his neck. His expression softened a little, giving you the opportunity to kiss him. Not a slow kiss, but more of a passionate, steamy kiss. A kiss to let him know he had full control of you. When he pulled away, he let go of your neck, pushing himself out of the pool by its walls. Quickly, he picked you up and laid you onto one of your pool chairs nearby. 

As you laid helplessly on the chair, you watched Jean untie his swim shorts at a quick pace. He couldn’t wait anymore. As much as he wanted to continue teasing you until you had dry tears on your face, he just couldn’t wait to be inside of you for any longer. Even still, he was going to make sure you did know exactly who you belonged to. When he removed his shorts, you had a full view of his cock. He was definitely bigger out of his shorts than in. The sight made more than just your mouth water, and Jean could see the desperation in your face. He wasted no time moving between your legs, finally removing your bikini bottoms and tossing them to the side.

“I didn’t get to fully prep you this time, so I’ll be gentle, okay? If it hurts at any time, don’t hesitate to tell me to stop” Jean looked down at you with sincerity in his eyes. The lust that once clouded his eyes was gone, at least for now. All he cared about in this moment was making you feel so so good.

“Mhmm, I’ll tell you. I just wanna feel you, Jean. All of you.” You pulled his face down for another kiss, feeling his cock lightly brush against your cunt. Jean eventually pulled away, pushing your legs up slightly and asking you to hold them in that exact position. Once he got your verbal agreement, he slowly stroked himself over your pussy. He dipped the tip between your lips, rubbing it against your clit to make you twitch. He teased a little more by rubbing himself up and down your slit soooo slowly, just until he heard you softly beg him to ‘fucking put it in already’.

“Remember, just relax. It’s gonna hurt a little, but if it’s too much, I’ll stop.” Jean groaned out as he began slowly pushing into you. The way you instantly tightened around him made him moan a little louder than before. The deeper he pushed into you, the tighter you’d get. “C’mon baby, you’re doing so good for me, so so good. Just keep relaxing for me.”

“Faster, please-fuck Jean- faster! I wanna feel all of you.” You cried out as you felt the tip of his cock jerk against that soft spot inside of your cunt. You pulled your legs up closter towards your chest, giving him more access to your deepest parts. All Jean could do was groan at your neediness, pushing himself deeper into you per your demand. As much as he did want to keep going slow for you, he could tell that all you wanted was for him to just fuck you already. So, he shoved the last few inches into you with a harsh thrust, him groaning while you squeal loudly at the sudden aggression. Once he felt your walls relax around him, he wasted no time taking control. He replaced your hands on the backs of your thighs with his, pushing them impossibly close towards your chest.

“You want me to fuck you, huh? That’s what you want? Tell me, tell me you want me to fuck you.” Jean grinded his cock into you as he watched you twitch from the stimulation. As much as he did enjoy watching you feel so good, he still didn’t get any answer. “C’mon, you can act brainless later. I need your answer now, or I’m pulling out.”

The threat of him pulling out, completely withdrawing from your cunt, made you immediately begin to beg. “N-No! Don’t pull out please, I need you to fuck me! Please-” The rest of your begging became nothing more than a few babbles and even more moans and squeals as Jean finally began driving himself into your cunt with sharp and methodical thrusts. The more you moaned, the more tempted he felt to get even faster, just to see if you could get even louder. He wanted to alert Connie, he wanted your son to come downstairs and see her being fucked stupid in her backyard by his best friend.

Jean removed his hands from your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he bent over to kiss you. He knew you wouldn’t be able to kiss him back as much since the stimulation was too much for you. You were more focused on chasing that orgasm that he denied you from earlier. Luckily for you, that’s all Jean wanted to do. He couldn’t even think of cumming before making you cum for him first. To achieve this, he picked you up slightly by your waist, making your back arch upward, making it so much easier for his cock to continuously drive into that sensitive spot. Every thrust he gave you managed to hit that spot on the way in and on the way out. It made your eyes water, it made your mouth water, it made your toes curl, it made you feel so close. But, wait..did you always have to pee?

“Wait, Jean! I gotta-shit!-gotta pee! You gotta stop!” You thrashed in his hold as you squealed. He didn’t stop though, just let go of your hips and pushed your legs back into your chest.

“You’ve never even squirted before? Shiiit baby, I’m about to make your first time the best time.” Jean used one hand to thumb your clit while he slowed his strokes down slightly. At this moment, it’s not about speed. It’s all about precision. Jean continues a medium pace, but he hits that spot even harder now, continuing to rub your clit in slow circles. When he looks down at your cunt, he can see the white ring you’re leaving at the base of his cock. All he can do is moan at the sight as he spits on your clit for more lubricant. When he does this, you begin squirming even more than before. He fucks you through the squirming, but he does try to urge you to calm down.

“C’mon baby, stop squirmin’ and let yourself go. I’m not stoppin’ till you make a fucking mess.” Jean groans out while lightly slapping your clit. At this point, your toes hurt from curling so hard and you’re seeing stars. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, and so can Jean.

“Jean, don’t stop! ‘M gonna-ugnn!-gonna cum! Lemme cum, please, I need it!” You beg, plead, and moan ever so loudly. Jean just knows now that Connie can hear all the noise you’re making. “Nobody’s stoppin’ you baby, let go.” Jean continues lightly slapping your clit while you continue to squirm and thrash around in his hold. Finally, with one more hard thrust, one more slap against your clit, and that dark look in Jean’s eyes, you let go. You can barely feel your lower half when you do, and your vision turns bright white with a loud ringing in your ears.

“Fuuuck, there you fuckin’ go, baby! That’s what I wanted.” Jean chucked as you squirt all over his chest, making the biggest mess with the loudest and most erotic moans. Just the sight of tears running down your face and juices still sputtering from your cunt is enough to make Jean want to cum. But, he needs one more. One more toe curling, spine aching, mess making orgasm out of you.

Once you came down from your mind shattering orgasm, Jean made no hesitation to prop you up on your knees, ass high up in the air. He expected to hear some protesting from you, but was excited to hear absolutely no complaints. The sight of you still trembling and trying to hold yourself up was enough to make Jean’s cock twitch a little. 

“J-Jean, please..” You reached behind you with a shaky hand, trying to, somehow, pull him closer to you. “Want’ you inside again, wanna cum again, please.” You whined out to him, trying to push your ass towards his groin, trying to at least feel the tip of his cock against your throbbing clit. But, to your dismay, Jean didn’t show the slightest bit of sympathy for you or your throbbing cunt.

“Awwh, you want me back inside? That’s so adorable baby, but-” Jean started, forcing the arm you used to grab him behind your back, resting right above your hip. With this newfound grip on you, Jean had a little more control of your actions than he did before. “You don’t get to have my cock whenever you want it. You can have my cock when I feel like you deserve it, and right now, I don’t feel like you do.”

You went to struggle against the restraint he had against your arm, which pissed him off even more. “No! Please, I want it! I deserve it, I’ve been so good!” You pleaded desperately. Though he loved listening to you beg for him, part of him wanted to hear you beg a little better than that.

“I know baby, I know.” Jean cooed at you, using his free hand to rub your ass softly. The way you leaned back into his touch, the way you just gave your body to him made his next choice of words come to him so much easier. “You gotta do somethin’ for me, okay pretty? If you can do this right, I’ll make you cum again.”

You immediately perked up, turning your head to look at him. “Mhm, I’ll do ‘nything for you, anything to cum.”

“Alright, if you say so honey. I need you to hold out for me, okay? Gonna get myself close, then I’ll let you cum.” Jean let go of the arm he had restrained behind you, still smoothing his hands over your ass. Once he heard your grunts of approval, and the tiny nodding of your head, he finally pushed himself back into your cunt. The deeper he forced himself, the closer you got to cumming, and Jean could feel it.

Your loud moans were like music to Jean’s ears, proof that he was making you feel so good, better than anyone’s made you feel. You could already feel yourself right at the edge, but you knew what you had to do, you knew what Jean wanted, and you knew what would happen if he didn’t get exactly that. Jean could feel how close you were, but he didn’t intend to make this easy for you. Where’s the fun in that? Instead of just letting you sit there while he does all the work, Jean stops moving, urging you to do it for him. “C’mon, slut. Be a gooood girl and push yourself back onto my cock. Don’t you fucking cum either, just work yourself on my co-yeah, that’s it.”

You tried your hardest to ground yourself as you rocked back and forth onto Jean’s cock. Each time he slipped out of you, it was hard for you to push him back in with how tightly you were clenching. You fought hard to not pull his cock out of you completely, but the stimulation from your last orgasm and your upcoming orgasm made it even harder. When you did pull too far, when he did ‘accidentally’ slip out, you made your best attempts to reach behind you and guide him back inside. Jean watched you struggle to keep your pace while not cumming, which pushed him closer to his release, but it wasn’t close enough.

Jean slowed your hips with a rough grip to your hips. When you looked behind you to find what the problem was, Jean took that as an opportunity to grab you by your neck. The way he tilted your head back so far made your back arch more. Though you could hardly breathe from the restraint he had on your neck, you still managed to keep your mouth shut. Jean stared down at you like this for a while until he spoke. “I’m almost there, honey. Just gotta take control for a bit, and then I’ll let you cum. Sound good?” He cooed at you as he began to continue thrusting into your poor, abused cunt. All you could do was nod. 

The restraint around your neck made it hard to speak, so you used your moans and your body language to speak to him. The way your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open was enough to let Jean know just how far gone you were. This was exactly what he wanted. From the day Connie introduced him to you, he’s wanted to just take you and fuck you stupid. You’ve been dodging his previous attempts, which made him all the more attracted to you. He was glad that you’d finally given up the good girl facade and just let him take over.

Your loud squealing brought Jean back to reality. He watched as your legs began to shake, your breathing began to become shaky. Jean let go of your neck, letting your head fall back into the poolside chair. He slowly inched his hand lower, rubbing rough circles on your clit. The reaction he got from you told him more than he needed to know. You were close, and if he didn’t catch up to you, you’d cum whether any of you wanted to or not. Jean began picking up the pace of his thrusts, listening to your muffled cries.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you need.” Jean rubbed your clit faster, watching you grip the sides of the chair. You tried your hardest to muster up the courage to open your mouth, to speak in full sentences, but with the way he was thrusting inside of you, you had many complications. “Pleease, please fill me up! I wan’ all of your cum inside of me daddy please!”

Jean’s breath hitched. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He grabbed your head, pulling you up to meet his chest. “Repeat that, would you? Say that shit again, I wanna hear you loud and clear.” He growled into your ear, slightly slowing his thrusts to bring your attention back to him.

“Fill me up daddy! Ohmygod yes!-I want you to make me a mommy, wanna have your babies!” You sobbed, holding onto the hand that’s been manipulating your puffy clit.

“Yeah? You want me to make ya a momma again? You wanna really made me a daddy? Well, c’mon and cum so I can fill this mommy cunt up baby.” Jean picked his thrusts up again, rubbing your clit even faster. You finally began to feel yourself get closer and closer, felt that heat in your gut begin to slowly disappear, until finally, finally, you came all over Jean. You felt it drip down your thighs, watched it soak into the poolside chair. Jean let you go, letting your limp body fall forward as he continued to sloppily thrust himself into you. You could hear him mumble something, but your mind was so fuzzy, which made it harder to comprehend anything. Finally, Jean slowed his thrusts, and you could feel his cum fill you up. 

When he stopped his thrusting, he pulled out of you, pulling his swim shorts back on. As he looked up toward your son’s window, he could see Connie watching with rage in his face. All Jean did was wave and grab pieces of your swimsuit. He would’ve loved to stay and watch you struggle to get back into your swimsuit, he had to leave before Connie beat him to a pulp.

“I gotta go, but let me know if you do, you know, end up pregnant” Jean slightly giggled at your attempt to nod your head at him. “I would advise you take an after pill, wouldn’t want ya getting knocked up.”

“‘M on birth control, Jean. Not havin’ anymore kids.” Your words were still slurring, trying to ground yourself once again so you could somehow make it up to your son.

“If ya say so. If you do wanna do this again, just call me. You have my number, I’m sure.” And with that, Jean went back into your house.  Though your son will never forgive you for ruining his friendship for some dick, you definitely don't regret your choices. If you could do it again, you would. Over, and over, and over, and over again <3.

[anyoneseenadam]

Hey! I love your writing so much! Would you be open to write something about Azriel with a fae in Velaris who his shadows actively seek out and he has no idea why. I imagine that she works at a large library and that's where they meet because Azriel would go to figure out what was so special about her. Thanks!

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: implied smut, drinking, men being gross at bars (doesn’t go into detail), mainly just fluff and awkwardness though :)))

a/n: I rlly like this one so I hope you do to!! comments are always appreciated, hope you enjoy <3

-----------------------------------------------------------

 Azriel was standing with Cassian in a small street in Velaris. The ground beneath him was cobbled and all the houses in this area were brightly coloured, the sun seeming to shine brighter over them. They were waiting for Mor as she demanded they help her buy Rhysand a birthday present, desperate to get someone, anyone a good present. She was in a small local shop after Cassian suggested that he would love something from any small business and Cassian let out a groan as he realised she had wandered deeper into the shop. They had already been waiting twenty minutes for her.

“I’m going to drag her out,” Cassian said pushing off the wall and Azriel huffed a breath through his nose.

“Please be quick, don’t let her scare you into staying.” Cassian threw a rude symbol over his shoulder and Azriel grinned reservedly.

He let his gaze travel over more of the houses, his gaze catching on a white house with blue accents, and a blue balcony where a girl sat sipping an orange drink from a large glass and reading a book. He observed her for a while, she was sat curled in a straw chair with a colourful cushion and there was soft music coming from her house, her hair was down and natural and her face was clear of makeup as she soaked in the sun, wearing a males oversized shirt and some knee high socks.

Feeling his stare on her she looked up, grinning cheekily at him when he flushed red and lifting her glass to him in greeting. He was saved from further embarrassment though when Cassian came out, dragging a triumphant Mor who was holding up a purple, silk shirt and bottle of wine. Cassian made a gagging face behind her back as she linked arms with both of them, dragging them down the road and chatting their ears off about the kind old lady from the shop.

As they left Azriel dared a final glance over his shoulder to the girl from the balcony who was still watching him, cocking her head, and waving as he left. As they walked home, choosing to enjoy the sun, he heard nothing of what Mor said, completely focused on the girl from the balcony.

--

When they got home Mor winnowed away to hide her present and Cassian made a comment about Mor’s unique ability to always get horrendous presents. They walked through the door and Feyre instantly looked up from her spot of the sofa, gaze narrowing at Azriel.

“You look different.” She said and Rhys looked up too, frowning when he saw Feyre was right.

“What did you change?” he asked as Amren walked into the room, her head tilting.

“Nothing.” He said defensively as everyone stared at him, not enjoying the way everyone was looking at him now and wishing he could be alone to daydream about the pretty girl he had seen.

“Haircut?” suggested Nesta but he shook his head.

“I haven’t changed anything!” Mor was back now too and had joined in staring, gasping when she realised.

“Where are your shadows?!”

“Ohhhhhhh, that’s it,” Cassian said, sitting down next to his mate as Azriel felt for the shadows that followed him, feeling a rush of white-hot panic shoot through him when he couldn’t feel them.

“Wait what? Where are they then?” Rhys asked and he shook his head, searching for them and frowning when he felt them far away.

“They’re still in Velaris, they must have just stayed somewhere,” he tried to explain.

“Is there another shadow singer in Velaris?” Amren asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Not that we know of,” Azriel felt a flood of relief as his shadows flew back in, almost sheepishly and settled around him, whispering complaints and apologies, as he wondered what had kept them.

--

You had frowned when the handsome, winged male had left, rather enjoying the eye candy. Your friend walked back outside and took her seat opposite you, as you placed down your book and picked up your Apperol Spritz.

“You just missed the hottest male I’ve ever seen.” You said, laughing at her as her face fell completely.

“Why didn’t you shout for me!” she screeched, and you flung an olive pit at her head,

“He would have heard me idiot!”

“Well did you at least get a name?”

“No but I made prolonged eye contact and I think he got the message.”

“The message being?”

“That I would like to marry him and have his babies.”

“Ah makes sense,” you were laughing together as she carried on with the story she had been telling you about the cute Faerie at her work when you felt a cold feeling settle around you, strange given you were still sat in the sun. She stopped talking, giving you a weird look.

“How are you doing that?” she asked as you shrugged.

“I’m not,” the feeling moved, and you realised you were surrounded by shadows, alike the handsome man you had just seen. Your initial anxiety slipped away as they started playing with your hair and caressing your skin alike a lover would. “Hot boy had shadows like this,” you commented, and your friend gasped, eyes wide and a hand over her heart as she sighed.

“Maybe you’re mates!” you rolled your eyes, relaxing into the shadows touch.

“I don’t think my commitment issues can take that,” you joked, and it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“That cynicism is going to be the death of you,” she said in a singsong voice before downing her gin, “Now onto important matters, Rita’s or The Marine?”

--

Two hours later you were completely dolled up, lips red and eyeliner smudged, heeled boots elongating your legs and your all-black outfit making you look intimidating enough that you wouldn’t be bothered by gross men.

“We’re fae, why do you dress like a vampire,” your friend asked, the two of you already slightly buzzed from pre’s.

“Cause vampires are hot and I’m hot so it’s a match made in heaven.”

“Also she has a blood kink!” your roommate shouted from the bathroom and you threw a shoe at her.

“Bitch.” You said, laughing as she came out and the three of you stood to leave.

“Am I wrong?” she asked, and you shoved her, muttering a small no under your breath.

The three of you made your way to Rita’s and got in the queue. You leaned against the cold, brick wall when you saw him again, similarly dressed in all black and somehow looking even better under the light of the moon, his tanned skin glowing in the pale light. He caught your eyes, his face barely changing as he lifted his hand in a half wave, you nodded your head up with a smirk. Your friends followed your gaze, both gasping slightly as they caught sight of him at the end of the queue with his friends.

“Is that hot boy?!”

“Uh huh,” you smiled cheekily at her, “And I call dibs.”

“I get why you want to have his babies,”

“Wait you know him?” your roommate asked, and you shrugged with a smile. “How the fuck do you know the high lords shadow singer?”

“I get around,”

“He was outside earlier today,” your friend translated as the three of you moved into the club, instantly heading to the bar for more drinks.

“That too I guess, shots?” the three of you ordered six vodka shots and you laughed at your friends’ reactions to them.

“How do you enjoy this,” your roommate squealed as you tipped your head back, smiling at the familiar burn.

“Feels good,” you said, taking your second.

“Sadist.”

--

Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes. There you were again, your bare face swapped for dark makeup, and loose clothes swapped for a dress he desperately wanted to see on his floor. At first he wasn’t even sure it was the same girl, your style so different, but it was. And he had waved. No cool head tilt like the one you gave him, no sultry eyes, and pouting lips, just a stupid wave. And then you had laughed with your friends and he decided he needed the sound bottled, something to keep with him at all times.

You had walked inside without so much as a second glance and Azriel had to refrain himself from slamming his head against the wall.

“Who were you waving at?” Amren asked, the small women appearing next to him.

“Just someone I met earlier.” He didn’t want to get into the details, especially not around Cassian who would tease him relentlessly if he heard. Amren, thankfully, dropped it as they moved into Rita’s, his eyes instantly finding you at the bar, two empty shot glasses next to you as you laughed with your friends.

He moved with his family to a table that pretty remained reserved for them as Rita came to get them some drinks and see if they wanted food. He only half listened, ordering a Scotch as he watched you as you and your friends moved to dance together, completely enamoured by you despite not having said anything to you.

Eventually he pulled his eyes away and focused on his friends and his drink as they laughed into the small hours of the night. He kept stealing glances at you, his grip on his glass tightening when he saw you leaning against the bar waiting for drinks as a male leaned too close to you. He almost stood to intervene when saw you lean in close to the man, meeting Azriel’s eyes over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Azriel wished he could hear what you said but you were too far away, and the music was too loud, but whatever it was, the male turned white and scampered away, almost tripping over his feet as you giggled.

When it happened this time he noticed, feeling the coolness of his shadows leave and he watched as they travelled over to you, wrapping around you, and making you look like an angel of death. You turned and caught his eyes, winking at him before grabbing the tray of drinks the bartender had laid out for you and sauntering over to your friends.

“Is she a shadow singer?” Feyre asked, following his gaze and he shook his head, feeling a smile come over his face as he watched you interact with your drunk friends.

“No I think they just like her,” his high lady smiled at him,

“You mean you like her,”

“I haven’t even spoken to her.” He said drily and Nesta leaned over,

“Love at first sight,” she said in a singsong voice making him roll his eyes.

“This isn’t a romance book,” he said, huffing as a crowd moved in front of you and he couldn’t see you anymore.

“You tell yourself that,” Feyre said, patting his knee.

An hour later, when most the club was empty, you were standing, swaying slightly with your friend leaning on you.

“No baby, no more you’ll throw up again,” he heard you coo as she reached for a drink that was left on someone table. She huffed but you passed her into the arms of your other friend, and he sat up straight when he realised you were coming over to him.

You bowed your head slightly at Rhys and Feyre as all his friends turned to stare at you, your gaze unfaltering and your back straight as you looked at him.

“I think these belong to you,” you said, gesturing to the shadows swirling around your arms.

He tried to fight his blush, pulling them back in, “Yeah, thanks..?” he trailed off and you finished for him.

“(y/n).”

“Azriel.”

“Well Azriel,” his name sounded divine on your tongue, and you shot him another half-smile, “see you around.”

--

The next day, he was up only three hours after he fell asleep, desperate to find you. He wandered into town, usual leathers swapped for a white shirt collar peeking out of a dark sweater, his hands tucked into his pockets as he found himself wandering down your cobblestoned street. He looked up to your balcony and considered throwing rocks at the glass doors like in one of Nesta’s romance novels but paused when he saw all the lights were turned off.

Instead he chose to wander into the shop Mor had been in the previous day. The room smelt old, and he could see the dust moving in the morning light as he walked in. An old lady was behind the counter and she smiled as she recognised him.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she asked as he came to stand in front of her.

“I actually had a question,” she motioned for him to continue, “Do you know where I could find (y/n)?” he asked, and she smiled a knowing smile.

“Interested in my granddaughter are you?” she asked, eyes sparkling and Azriel rubbed the back of his neck, smiling nervously, “She works at the library in the square, I’m sure you’ll find her there.”

He thanked her and she waved him away, knowing she would get to hear all the details next Wednesday when the two of you met for tea. But until then she was happy to watch the handsome man leave to find you.

He flew to the library that your grandmother had mentioned and walked in. This was always one of his favourite places to come in the city. The bookshelves were tall and overflowing, candles covered the room, and there were huge glass windows on the far wall that cast the room in planes of light. He walked around for a while, letting his shadows lead him until he found you with a pile of books in your arms that you were going to return.

You smiled when you saw him, dressed in a black dress with lots of daisies on it that went halfway down your calf, a black cardigan, and black boots. Your hair was held back in a low bun, but you had strands falling out making you look impossibly cute, and he almost said as much as he moved to take some books from your arms.

“So are you stalking me now?” you had asked cheekily, and he stammered when he realised just how weird he looked.

“No, no I…”

“Relax I’m teasing, I’m glad you’re here actually.”

“You are?” he asked, relaxing slightly as you stood on your tiptoes to put a book on a shelf.

“Yes, you’re very pretty,” he laughed, and you smiled at him, your eyes creasing.

“Well so are you,” he replied as you turned to face him, “But you do keep stealing my shadows and I’m wondering why that is?”

“I’m stealing them am I? I just presumed that you were very mean to them and they wanted someone else,”

“They’re spoiled,” he joked, watching as they trailed up your arms and you giggled,

“You speak about them like they’re pets.”

“You’d be surprised how accurate that actually is,” he muttered as you moved to the next aisle and your laughter bounced of the walls, wincing slightly due to your drinking induced headache.

He went to help you with more books when his fingers touched your hand and the word hit him, mate. You looked up at him shocked before giggling.

“I guess that’s what the shadows meant,” you let out an ‘oomph’ as suddenly the shadows shot forward, pushing you into his chest and Azriel looked at you.

“I have a mate.” He repeated to himself.

“And I have commitment issues so this might be rough,”

“It’s fine I have attachment issues,” he replied, unable to stop the smile forming on his face, “Match made in heaven.”

“More like hell,” you joked as he leaned down to you.

“Can I kiss you?” he practically whispered, lips almost touching yours as his wings circled the two of you. You nodded slightly and the two of you stumbled back from the force of the kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly as yours wove into his hair, grinning against his mouth.

“Azriel,” you muttered between kisses, pulling back slightly only to just be pulled right back in. You repeated his name again, successfully pulling away this time as his lips attached to your neck.

“Az, we’re in a public library.”

“So?”

“So we can continue this when I’m off work,” you shoved him off with a laugh as he grumbled, before pulling you in for a final kiss.

“What time?” he asked.

“My shift ends at three,” you smiled as he looked at the clock.

“It’s only eight,”

“Maybe wait at your house,” you laughed at his expression, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth before walking off, shooting him a smirk over you shoulder.

Only six hours, fifty-nine minutes left.

[notnctu]

switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series 

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠  fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au,  ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo​ ; @dearlyminhyung​

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :) 

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you. 

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you. 

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you. 

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together. 

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts. 

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you. 

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone. 

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut. 

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter. 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.” 

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more. 

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal. 

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone. 

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face. 

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car. 

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen. 

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body. 

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire. 

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?” 

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.” 

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.” 

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention. 

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno. 

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat. 

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things. 

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats. 

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink. 

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you. 

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs. 

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel. 

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips. 

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again. 

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship. 

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you. 

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice. 

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper. 

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate. 

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.” 

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle. 

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you. 

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s. 

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you. 

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him. 

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax. 

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.” 

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.” 

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.” 

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed. 

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.” 

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space. 

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid. 

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?” 

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?” 

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves, 

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again. 

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them. 

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.” 

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s. 

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.” 

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being. 

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.” 

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours. 

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his. 

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior. 

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek. 

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed. 

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle. 

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?” 

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.” 

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him. 

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much. 

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that. 

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious. 

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown. 

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response. 

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.” 

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.” 

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it. 

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.” 

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin. 

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.” 

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further. 

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.” 

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving. 

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him. 

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.” 

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. 

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile. 

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party. 

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand. 

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough. 

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.” 

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.” 

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard. 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode. 

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs. 

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect. 

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.” 

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own. 

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer. 

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.” 

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk. 

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car. 

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane. 

[letarasstuff]

A Genius’ Baby

(A/N): This is based on this post and requested by an anon. It is also leaned on the episode, where JJ brings Henry in for the first time. I got the general idea from an episode of Bones (hmu if you know which one)

Summary: How will Spencer’s daughter’s first meeting with the team exactly go down?

Wordcount: 1.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________

Spencer never dreamed of taking time off of work voluntarily. He loves doing what he does for a living. It’s not only something he is good at, it’s also something that makes him proud, knowing how many lives the team safed together.

But one thing led to another and now he is a single father of a newborn baby girl. His first week with his little (Y/N) was, to put it mildly, chaotic. Her mother decided early on in the pregnancy that she doesn’t want to be a part of her child’s life. Spencer is fine with it, as long as he is able to be there for her.

“What do you think, Sweetie, is a visit at Daddy’s work going to kill the whole office, because you are way too adorable?” He asks her as he pushes her in her stroller through the streets. A cute gurgle comes from inside the stroller as an answer. “Yes, I think so, too.”

It’s their first time to visit the BAU, since the little one’s birth. (Y/N) is a month old now and the little family slowly finds a schedule to live by. They hadn’t had the time to take the metro and the following walk to Quantico, but Morgan took the liberty to come to Spencer’s apartment and help the freshly baked father a few times.

Father. It still has a weird ring to him, but it also makes Spencer swell with pride being able to call himself a word like that. He promised to (Y/N) that he will live up to it. That he never leaves her, unlike his own father did. It doesn’t matter how difficult things may get, Spencer is going to be there for his daughter.

But enough love smack for now. It’s time for Reid to show off his newborn cutiepie.

They get through security check rather easily, except for the guards, who swoon over small (Y/N). Spencer has to slap away several hands and he doesn’t want to imagine how many germs are all over them.

“Aaaaand here we are. This is where Daddy will go in a few months. I’ll make sure you’ll visit me as often as possible.” Then Spencer looks around only to see a vacant bullpen. “This is an example for your father not being as smart as everybody thinks. I forgot to ask if the team is on a case.” He facepalms himself, but continues to push the stroller.

A few minutes of walking later he knocks on Penelope’s door. “Wait a sec, the tech goddess is on her way, mysterious stranger.” As she opens the door, the blonde lets out a loud gasp.

“Is this- Oh my god- Is this- Are you.” Yes, Penelope Garcia is broken even before she gets to see the newest addition to the BAU kids. Spencer smiles while taking his girl out of the basket and holds her in his arms.

“Child, meet Penelope Garcia, one of your many Aunties.” The techie can’t hold in another gasp. “Oh my god, pretty boy. She is an overload of cuteness. I- I can’t! I think I got diabetes just by looking at her.” 

Some time later the doors to the elevator open, allowing the team to step out. They all look exhausted. That case didn’t go as planned, having lost more lives than necessary. As they make their way over to the bullpen a happy Technical Analyst approaches them with a pep in her step.

“There is a surprise for you in the conference room that definitely will cheer you all up. Pinky promise.” She doesn’t need to say more, because a pinky promise from Garcia is a safe ride.

And a surprise it is as they spot their fellow genius rocking a bundle of white blankets.

Hotch is the first one to speak. “I thought I told you to not come to the office. I said-” “That I have a family to think of now. I know Hotch, but I wanted to show my child where she will spend a great amount of time of her childhood and I wanted you to meet her.”

“Come on Spence, tell us her name”, JJ complains. Since he announced that he is going to be a father, he made a game out of them guessing her name.

“(Y/N), meet my team, also known as our family. Team, meet (Y/N) Diana Reid. Not only is she named after her Grandma, but also after her butts and doors kicking godfather, since it’s also the feminine form of Derek, who is going to be the best godfather in history on a side note.”

In this moment everyone has to push back tears, also Morgan, even though he knows the revelation already. Emily softly pushes her way to the front.

“Now, am I allowed to hold my goddaughter? I know as soon as Morgan gets his cool together he isn’t going to let me get my own time with her”, the back haired pouts. Spencer looks at her a little unsure.

“Uhm, can you uh sanitize your hands please?” He nods his head towards the diaper back on the round table. A little tube filled with hand sanitizer dangles from it. Without any complaints she compiles to the request, ready to do anything his teammate wants from her only to be able to touch the newborn.

“You do know that exposing your child to as many germs as possible in her early childhood makes her resistant to any allergies against them in her following development, right?” Rossi asks, an amused smile gracing his face.

Spencer blushes a bit while handing his daughter over to Prentiss, saying “be aware of her head, the neck is not strong enough to keep it up on its own yet” to her as if she never held a baby before. “Hey, Little One. I’m your Auntie Em”, she whispers.

“Uh, I know that, but I kind of decided that I don’t care about this statistic. Whoever wants to touch (Y/N) has to wash their hands and sanitize them. I can sleep better knowing that I even protect her against the smallest of things”, he sheepishly scratches his neck, seemingly not knowing what to do with them now.

“Well”, Derek says, “This is a first. Spencer Reid, the man of numbers, giving not a shi-” He cuts himself off seeing the warning glares from his team mates. “A shoot? Not giving a shoot about numbers?” Morgan tries to correct his statement.

“If you want to keep that mouth around my child, I have to rethink my decisions”, Spencer murmurs, watching Emily stroking (Y/N)’s soft check endearingly. Suddenly she begins to whine. The older woman looks up at the father, who glances at his watch.

“It’s time for her bottle. Let me go heat it u-” “I’ll do it”, Hotch offers. His face is less stern than usual, which is noticed by everyone. “Uhm, thank you. You hav-” “I don’t want to be rude, but I know how to heat up a bottle, Reid. I got a child on my own.” The Unit Chief says this with a smile and takes the little plastic bottle out of the genius’ hand to go to the little kitchen the office offers.

After this little visit many follow in the next few months Spencer is off duty and they still remain in some frequency as he comes back. Because nobody can survive long without as much as a glance of their favorite little genius.

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Middle Earth TV shows - how about 'What We Do In The Shadows', but set in Edoras?

'What We Do In The Stables', maybe? Where a camera crew follow the daily goings on in Eomer's household. Grima (the Edoran version of Guillermo) spends a lot of time sighing, muttering and looking at the camera with either a 'see what I put up with' or a 'fuck my whole life' expression.

I'd watch the heck out of that...

Hahahaha I would watch that so hard. Like take my money, I need to see this.

Oh man the “you’re alive because I let you live” scene would take on WHOLE new meaning.

Grima: you’re alive because I let you live. Everyday I wake up and choose not to poison everyone. You’re welcome.

My one thing is, I like Grima not being super proficient at fighting or anything. But he’s good at hiding. Like it would be a great joke that he’s just leaning against a wall or something and people just can’t find him.

Eomer: you’re always skulking in corners listening in on people’s secrets.

Grima: first of all, I am not skulking in corners. People just don’t notice me when I don’t want them to. Second, I thought that’s why you and your uncle pay me? To gather secrets.

Eomer: other people’s secrets. Not mine.

Grima: yeah Elfwyn dumped you hard didn’t she?

Eomer: go away Grima.

-

Saruman tries to contact Grima, Eomer takes pot shots at the crebain and ravens and other bird messengers while drinking a beer and sitting on the roof of Meduseld.

Grima: I’m sorry my lord, but in my defense I didn’t know what you wanted me to do. You never tell me anything.

Saruman: I sent ravens. I sent 500 RAVENS! I'm shocked and appalled that you didn't raven me back.

Later on when Eomer is covering for Theoden and Theodred for some reason or another he’s listening to people’s complaints because it’s the few hours in the morning when the king receives petitions. Eomer is just like, “good gods how do you deal with people complaining all the time?”

Grima, “In these situations, where you are stuck listening to people—and I’ve met people, my lord, they’re all stupid—anyway, you basically have two choices.”

Eomer, “Be rude or be gracious?”

Grima, “No. you can kill them or you can pretend to listen to them.”

Eomer, “those aren’t…even remotely in the same category of response.”

-

Grima just drinks anachronistic Starbucks cold brew all the time—like he has a venti, black cold brew perpetually attached to his hand. He also drinks pina coladas. I don’t know why I’ve decided Grima drinks basic bitch beach drinks but he does.

Sometimes the camera crew follows him out back of Meduseld for a smoke break and there’s a lot of him just flipping off the cameras.

-

Oh! Lol Grima would barter using the camera crew.

Sauron’s evil emissary: if you don’t give the dark lord what he wants, he will invade and it will be very bad for all of you. Sauron the Relentless. You know why they call him that? Because he doesn’t relent.

Eomer: name of eothain’s sex tape.

Grima: Ignore him. Anyway, what if we uhhhh give your master this guy named—what’s your name?

Sound tech: Ian.

Grima: what if we give your master Lord Sound Tech Ian son of …

Sound Tech Ian: Brett.

Grima: Brett? What kind of name is Brett? Anyway, Ian son of Brett. He’s handsome and has magical equipment where you can hear your voice played back. It’s delightful. We will also throw in one of those fancy devices that lets you see yourself in the past on a tiny black mirror.

Sound Tech Ian: wait a minute, I can’t be used as a bartering tool. I’m unionized.

Grima: I don’t know what that means. Sounds fake. So, Sauron’s emissary, what do you say?

-

Eowyn would also do a lot of staring into the camera. I think some peak moments would have her and Grima doing it at the same time and he thinks it’s meaningful and she’s just like “ew. Not you.”

Though, Eowyn would absolutely tell someone: Stay strong, sweet little one. Someday they will all be dead and you will do a shit on all of their graves.

It is a grand standing Rohirric tradition, holding out long enough to piss on someone’s grave.

-

At some point Aragorn and Co. turn up (Boromir is alive because of Reasons) and get up to mischief. Though I kind of like the idea of it taking place in a weird timeless sort of period where it’s like Sauron and Saruman are in the background as a menace but it’s really not relevant, other than when Grima occasionally goes and commits a light soupçon of treason.

Grima would end up staying around, purely for the entertainment value of occasionally the camera panning to him and he’s just mouthing “it’s a bad idea” when someone like Aragorn is all “maybe paths of the dead?”

Grima in an interview: Everyone dies. We didn’t name it Paths of the Dead for a sense of whimsy.

Eomer, because he and Grima doing joint interviews is funny: No, that’s the Corridor of Despair.

Grima: well yes, everyone knows that. Great vacation spot. You have to book a year in advance though.

Eomer: Dale of Discontent. Ford of Wrath. Canyon of Death. All very lovely.

Grima: what are you saying?

Eomer: he could be confused.

Grima: he’s not confused, he’s stupid.

Eomer: no, he’s confused. Grima he is confused. When we explain he will understand.

Cue ten minutes later.

Eomer: yeah Grima’s right, he’s stupid. At the very least has a death wish. Though the Wells of the Dead is a great little gem of a summer swimming spot.

Basically, relevant LOTR plot stuff only used when the Rule of Funny applies.

-

Thouuuugh this being post-LOTR is super funny because the idea of Eomer and Grima acting like a weird old married couple, to the confusion of everyone including themselves, is delightful. They’re like the couple from Vicious.

-

Anyway—I love this idea, thank you so much for this 💜💜

[twistedtranslations]

Cater Diamond - Full of Lies

You can unlock this story by getting Cater’s SSR Scary dress

Big thanks to Rym and Apollo for proofreading!

Translation under the cut

Chapter 1

Main street

/Notification

Cater: Oh? A message on MagiCam? Who would've thought it was that girl! How nostalgic~ The picture those ghosts took at Ramshackle dorm made our college's Halloween event trend -> Jumping onto the bandwagon and posting a lot -> Huge success for Cay's follower-catching strat! So far it's been going well but… Mixed within the comments and DMs of my new followers are a lot of old aquaintances. Even some classmates from middle and elementary school are here.

Cater: "Hey! It's been a while! Oh, would you like to come to our college? Cay welcomes every single one of you! You can always come over to hang at NRC's Halloween event!"

Cater: And now some emoji full of feelings!  (^○^)♪ (ゝω・)☆　d(’ｖ｀*)b

Cater: Everyone is really so casual and easygoing~ Well, it's easier on me, so I'm not complaining.

???: HEY!

Cater: Where did that loud and rowdy voice come from? I've got a bad feeling about this…

Front Gate

Sebek: Humans, don't crowd around the young master! Get out! Leave!

Boy A: Hey, what are you doing, sweptback bro! Don't interfere with our Draconia Challenge.

Boy B: We're putting our lives on the line to show our bravery by uploading a picture of us touching The Malleus!

Boy A: Huh, since when did Malleus disappear?! It's that sweptback bro's fault.

Boy B: Don't be so angry. After all the effort of having a sweptback, let's show the world a huge smile on that face!

Sebek: For humans of your social standing to use the name of the Lord of the esteemed Valley of Thorns in vain…Besides, my hair is swept back like this so I have an unobstructed view to find those like you who behave rudely towards my young master! You shall receive punishment for insulting the Draconia… no, for insulting the young master. My thunder shall shock you all to bits! HAAAAA...

Cater: Okay, stop! I'm part of the Halloween Committee. It's forbidden to fight. Why don't you try talking to this lad if something's up?

Sebek: Don't interrupt me, you frolicking human! I will shock you to bits as well!

Cater: Won't you create a scandal for the Draconia family if you were to harm an ordinary human with magic?

Sebek: W-Well… You're right. Besides, didn't you just say you were part of the Halloween committee? Both the young master and master Lilia are both performing the same duties… They ordered me to listen to the orders of the other committee members. Ok, I shall talk this out.

Cater: Even though you are crossing your arms and puffing your chest out, you are being apologetic right? Anyway, these are our college's precious guests. They have no intention to harm Malleus.

Sebek: These magic-less weaklings were making a spectacle bothering Young Master with a toy. I cannot forgive that!

Cater: Malleus is like super famous, and he's an admirable being, right? So just for this festival, it should be fine to interact with our guests as a little fanservice right?

Sebek: Stop messing around. The young master is a dreadful being who makes everyone kneel and bow down to him. AND THAT'S WHY I WILL NEVER LEAVE HIS SIDE AND PROTECT HIM ALL MY LIFE!

Cater: You're just obsessed!

Boy A: Hey, interfering our Draconia Challenge aside, what are you two squabbling about?

Sebek: Hm? You humans are still here? I told you to leave.

Boy B: Huh? You've got some nerve, talking rudely to us like that!

Cater: Come on guys. Why don't we take some pictures together since it's finally Halloween! We, Heartslabyul are those who rise from the soil in the darkness, the underlings of the night~

Boy A: Wow! Now that you mention it, you do look real good for the camera!

Cater: Cheer up everyone and gather! Let's decide on a pose~~~ Happy Halloween~

¨*shutter noise*

Cater: (Ugh… This is exhausting)

Chapter 2

Classroom

Kalim/Cater/Lilia: *Sigh*… I'm tired….

Cater: This year's Halloween was exhausting. Mainly due to our guests being rowdy..

Kalim: It was fun entertaining the guests, but I was really troubled because Jamil got in a foul mood.

Lilia: Even we, three most gentle boys, have been worn down. The other students must be at the limits of their patience.

Everyone: *Sigh*…

Cater: Now that you say it, by chance all the members of the light music club are also part of the Halloween Committee. Let's have our usual relaxing tea time while also discussing some countermeasures.

Kalim/Lilia: Agreed~

Cater: I got this! Trey's home-made pumpkin pie! It's moderately sweet, so it's my favorite!

Kalim: I have kunafa. It's a cheesecake from the Scalding Sands. It's delicious when it's hot!

Lilia: Oho, these are all sweets befitting of Halloween. As the last one, I have prepared this. Licorice!

Cater: You're always bringing the same thing! You know me and Kalim don't like that.

Kalim: The smell makes my nose shrivel up~

Cater: But you know, since it's black, it does feel like Halloween. Oh, right, let's take a picture together. It's super charming to be in costume and have themed food.

*shutter noise*

Cater: #TheBestHalloween #SelfmadeCostume #HomemadeTreat #LightMusicClub #NRCHalloween

Kalim: The best? Didn't you say you were exhausted earlier, Cater?

Cater: I never said it wasn't exciting and for things like SNS, isn't it better to exaggerate a bit?

Lilia: As expected of you. We live in a period where everyone is connected all around the world. It is most wonderful to spread happiness instead of complaints.

Cater: Oh. The picture I just uploaded got an amazing response! 

*notification*

Cater: Another message from that girl. Was she the kind to keep track of people's activities?

*ringing noise*

Cater: This time it's a call. (How persistent…)

Kalim: Cater, is it from one of your friends? You can pick up if you want.

Cater: Hm~… More like an acquaintance from the past? But it's alright? We're at a very important meeting, after all.

Lilia: We are only eating sweets, taking pictures and uploading them to MagiCam though…

Cater: It's the age of social media where everyone can keep in contact at their own pace, you don't have to go through the pains of having to response in real time to a phone call.

Kalim: Do you have that many people who want to get in touch with you? You're so well connected Cater~

Cater: Well, if you look the amount of aquaintances I have, that might be true? My dad's a banker. The bank he works at has branches all over the world. Therefore, whenever he transferred to a different branch, our entire family would move with him. We moved once every two years, so I kind of feel like a pro at quickly packing things?

Lilia: Commonly said, you are a family who moved a lot for the sake of the breadwinner.

Kalim: So the reason why you have so many friends is because you have travelled around the world since young.

Cater: Yeah, the girl just now said we are friends as well. Having to change schools frequently, I got to meet more people compared to someone staying at one place. From the best to the worst… a lot of people. However, they all had something in common.

Kalim/Lilia: …?

Cater: If I left there, they remained there. That's why I'd rather have a casual and happy time with everyone than to deepen a friendship. It’s like a circus troupe, you know, having fun hanging with people all over the world and then leaving. That's why MagiCam is the best! People from my school from three years ago contacted me out of the blue. My social circle is expanding as well. Cay is getting popular!

Kalim: Even if they're far away, you don't have to hold back you know? I got it! I'll lend you my magic carpet, so you can visit your friends whenever you want.

Cater:… I expected no less of you, Kalim. I'll take you up on that offer next time.

Lilia: I feel like I understand you.

Cater: Hm?

Lilia: The relations between humans are eternal. They are things that cannot be severed. In a new place with no trace of your existence, new relations will continue to be forged. That in itself is nature. However, I think the more precious a relation is, the more lonely it becomes. Why does it feel that way? I have lived a long life but the reason is still unknown to me. But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.

Cater: Lilia, what got into you suddenly? What I wanted to say was-

*ringing noise*

Lilia: Hello, this is Lilia speaking? What business do you have?

Cater: He just casually picked up the phone during our conversation.

Lilia: Oh, Sebek. What is it? You are so loud. Right now, I am in a meeting with Cater and Kalim. WHAT?! MALLEUS?!

Kalim/Cater: ?!

Chapter 3

Hall of Mirrors

Silver: Stop pushing. It's forbidden to enter the Hall of Mirrors.

Man A: Huh, really! I came all the way to the Isle of Sages to see Malleus Draconia.

Man B: We are doing the Draconia challenge now! Why can't we enter~

Girl C: He’s inside right! An actual Draconia, the Actual Malleus!

Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

*Lightning and thunder*

Silver: It's a rare event that Master Malleus is participating in. He also agreed to interact with the guests... For it to come to this... Everyone, it’s better if you leave. You have angered master Malleus.

Man A: I paid a lot of travel expenses, did you know that? This is the price of fame.

Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

Exterior Hallway

Cater: Did the visitors who wanted that  MagiCam glory end up angering even Malleus himself?

Sebek: Yes. At first he was gentle and calmed me down when I got angry… but a fool grabbed Malleus by the horns and made fun of him by saying "Look! It's a bicycle from the olden days!"

Lilia/Cater: Gh!

Cater: I don't know if they're brave or just reckless. Were the dark clouds and thunder rampaging in the sky above the Hall of Mirrors due to Malleus' anger? You don't think he overblotted, right…?!

Lilia: Do not worry. Using that amount of magic power shall not make him overblot. He is simply irritated. Back when he was young, mountains would be destroyed by his lightning whenever he threw a tantrum.

Cater: Hahaha… that's on a totally different level. I guess it was a good idea to have Kalim fetch the professors.

Sebek: Upperclassman Vil noticed something was up and isolated the young master. He also casted a defensive spell so the tourists wouldn't be harmed. And it seemed that Upperclassman Jade is persuading the angry young master with some unique methods... Even so, those humans who can't seem to understand the gravity of the situation keep stirring up the young master, they're uncontrollable.

Lilia: This means we must use our last resort. We must put in effort to suppress the onlookers and avoid the worst situation.

Cater: Wait a second, Lilia. I thought of something. It's not like people there dislike Malleus or anything. Despite that, it doesn't mean that they like Malleus as well... They're just interested in trends. Just like my old acquaintances.

Lilia: ?

Cater: First, I'll take a picture of Lilia, who's wearing the same clothes as Malleus!

*shutter noise*

Cater: Next we use something catered to influencers. We'll elongate Lilia's picture with a photo editing app!

*swiping on phone*

Cater: Now we just add some text to finish it up. And then upload a cropped version to MagiCam!!

*Phone SFX*

Cater: #AWildMalleusAppeared #DraconiaChallenge #UnexpectedlyAtSportsGround #NRCHalloween

*Phone SFX*

Hall of Mirrors

Man A: H-Hey. Look at the Draconia challenge tag.

Man B: It seems he's at the Sports Ground now. As expected of Malleus. He's much faster than we are!

Girl C: Okay. Everyone, let's move!

Everyone: YEAH!

Silver: What happened? Master Malleus should still be in the Hall of Mirrors.

Cater: Fu. With this, I hope the storm has passed…?

Vil: Good grief. Accidents are an unavoidable part of stage plays. Letting yourself get influenced by the guests is so amateurish. My work here is done. I will return to the dorm to straighten up my appearance.

Jade: My, that was a close call. Malleus is extremely powerful. I persuaded him to the best of my abilites, trying to get him to understand. But there was no one to turn to if it had failed. Well then, I will also return to my station. I wish everyone a wonderful Halloween.

Malleus: I caused many disturbances between different racial groups during a mere school event. I should restrain myself more…

Sebek: The young master has done nothing wrong! It was the fault of those inferior humans!

Silver: The young master told us to avoid hostility between fae and humans. Why are you getting more hostile?

Sebek: WHAT DID YOU SAY SILVER!

Lilia: Malleus. Did you forget our promise from long ago? Call for us when the tranquility in your mind is disturbed.  Even if we are not related by blood, we are still a family. Got it?

Malleus: Lilia… My apologies. To everyone.

Everyone: …

Cater: ….Family…huh.

Flashback

Lilia: But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.

Flashback ends

Cater: (That was full of lies. For a guy who grew up and lived in the same place, he never had to deal with rebuilding relations over and over…He would never understand my worthless and meaningless feelings.)

*ringing*

Cater: Hello, Trey. What's up? Huh? Are we doing our rehearsal for our night show at the stamp rally now? And Deuce, who is also part of the Halloween Committee, was at his wit's end due to the lack of manpower. So Ace is helping him out? Darn, Ace is definitely going to extort me for a favor later!

Cater: Argh! And is Riddle on the verge of a rampage? I'll be back soon, Trey. Please calm him down! I am currently at the site of the biggest crisis yet of this Halloween Week! No, for real! I'm not lying. That's why you don't have to be so cold to me, 'kay? URGH, TREY, YOU'RE SO CRUEL!

Cater: Now that Diasomnia's turmoil has settled, let's change the mood and continue on with work. In any case, we’ll still separate after the fourth year… It would be different if I repeated a year though. Anyway, I should just enjoy the moment to my heart's content! I'll surprise everyone with this charming skeleton costume! I'll show them what I'm capable of!

Cater: Happy Halloween!

[shihalyfie]

A meta on Mimi and her character

Today’s spotlight character is Mimi! While the Adventure characters are all written to subvert character stereotypes (no, really), I feel this is particularly enhanced for Mimi, whose surface demeanor and the first impression you get from her suggest an almost opposite character to whom she actually is.

Disclaimer before we continue: While not to the same extent as Daisuke, Mimi’s disposition and personality have some significant differences in the American English dub compared to the original Japanese. As usual, this is not meant to be any particular comment about the dub’s changes, but simply that if you’ve only seen that dub, are reading this post, and are thinking “that doesn’t seem right?” that would probably be why.

Mimi’s family background and attitude prior to Adventure

Like with any of the other Adventure characters, understanding Mimi’s personality and why she acts the way she does is most easily done by starting with her family background.

We first meet Mimi’s family in Adventure episode 35.

There is a lot to unpack with only this scene alone, so let’s get started!

Mimi’s family is quite well-to-do. They’re not filthy rich or anything, but they’re well-to-do enough for Mimi’s father to work freelancer (he works in music). This means that Mimi grew up with a fairly “comfortable” life, probably getting pretty much anything she asked for -- in other words, she’s spoiled. It also explains why she’s actually pretty impeccably polite to everyone -- she adheres very firmly to honorifics when speaking to both elders and younger people, and never, ever speaks roughly or aggressively, because her parents have basically been raising her like a “lady of the house” (ojousama) or princess. (She does use casual-form Japanese, but she never lets up on the honorifics.)

They’re very open-minded. We learn in this episode that Mimi’s bizarre food tastes in liking natto on her eggs with sugar (from Adventure episode 6) most likely come from her mother, Satoe, cooking things like kimchi fried rice with whipped cream and strawberries. In other words, the family is very into the idea of “unconventional and strange” and has no qualms about it.

While Mimi in 02 is portrayed as liking practically any kind of fashion aesthetic imaginable, both her room and the overall decor of the apartment suggest that “in-your-face cute” is the generally favored one.

Mimi’s family is also extremely affectionate. They smother each other in lovey-dovey words, her father actively likes Satoe’s weird cooking ideas, and it’s a household where everyone seems to dote on and mutually love and support each other (Mimi’s parents are almost embarrassingly lovey-dovey) without restraint.

The result is that Mimi ends up “spoiled sweet” -- she’s pampered and used to a comfortable life where everyone dotes on her, but because of the family dynamic being so built on “affection” and “open-mindedness”, she also never develops a streak towards condescension or malice.

What does that mean, you might ask?

Mimi in Adventure

A lot of people remember Mimi by the fact that she was “whining a lot” in the early stages of Adventure, and the fact that she’s a “girly-girl” with some of the associated stereotypes. As a result, one may be surprised to hear that her behavior is actually supposed to be mostly representative of an average child in her situation, and she’s often described in press materials as “someone who can befriend anyone” or “someone who can get along with anyone”. Even her official website profile talks about how pretty much everyone considers her likeable.

This may seem difficult to believe at first, but you might actually notice a pattern when it comes to her “complaining” -- it pretty much always boils down to one of the following, or something along these lines:

I’m scared

I’m tired

I don’t like this/I don’t want that

I want a bath/bed/food/(some other home comfort)

I want to go home

In other words, Mimi is basically reacting like an average child would when thrown into another world out of nowhere! All of her complaints are out of low tolerance and high sensitivity -- all of these scary and uncomfortable things around her are making her feel bad, and she’s not hesitating to make that clear with her words.

However -- and this is very important -- these are all things she’s saying specifically because she’s now in a dangerous, unfamiliar situation in another world. All of these things are things she says defensively, because she’s sensitive to being uncomfortable or hurt, but she is also never aggressive towards others. In completely normal situations -- ones where all she’s doing is socializing at school -- it’s not hard to believe that she would actually be one of the nicest and most considerate people on the planet and that she would be instantly likeable to anyone she meets. Why? Because she lacks condescension or malice. She’s a very nice person who, if not for being under heavy stress, would never step on anyone’s toes. Even during those early episodes of Adventure, whenever there’s “down time” and they’re not in an uncomfortable situation or being chased by something, she goes back to being polite and respectful of others (remember: she’s one of the most adherent to honorifics among the cast), and is perfectly kind and agreeable with them.

As much as she may sometimes get demanding during the early episodes of Adventure, she also doesn’t expect her peers to cater to her nor does she look down on them. One of the biggest examples comes from the Adventure novel:

Mi–chan was pointing at the front of the bus, where a boy wearing a long–sleeved orange shirt was about to get off. Even Mimi knew who he was. They hardly ever talked together, but he was her classmate, Koushiro Izumi. Mi–chan wanted them to look at what Koushiro was carrying on his back – a wireless laptop. “Isn’t he so weird for bringing that all the way to camp?” Mi–chan sneered with mocking laughter, but Mimi didn’t laugh. She simply didn’t find any reason to.

In a situation where people are mocking this weirdo kid for bringing his laptop to camp, Mimi “sees no reason” to look down on him. To her, what’s the point? It’s not fun to be malicious towards others, and she sees no benefit in dunking on him. Hence, because she’s actually very polite and open-minded towards others, and doesn’t see any reason to be mean, she’s not mean, and so you can see why everyone would like her -- after all, she’s not only bright and cheerful, she’s also polite and kind! Who wouldn’t like such a nice person?

Mimi’s first “focus episode” is Adventure episode 6, and we already see a lot of these traits in action. Mimi gets to see the other kids making absolute fools of themselves under Monzaemon’s brainwashing, but the most she has to say is just observing that they seem to not be having fun, and being worried about their well-being. Once she finds out the truth behind what he did to them, she gets extremely angry on her friends’ behalf -- she actually calls them her “friends”, despite them barely knowing each other at this point!

And then when the Numemon step in to fight for her, despite her initially having been turned off by them (mainly because they make her uncomfortable, both by indulging in literal poop around her presence and by invading her personal space by flirting with her), she actually almost breaks down in tears over them!

What this all means is that Mimi’s “high sensitivity” also translates to something else: Mimi has extremely high empathy for others. In terms of being “sensitive”, she’s also sensitive to how other people feel. She worries about others’ welfare constantly, even when they’re poop-throwing slime monsters who had just flirted with her, or near-stranger classmates who just happen to have been thrown onto this adventure with her whom she barely knows. That’s why she’s so nice to other people -- she feels for them, and she constantly empathizes with others’ emotions, so that’s why she’s never rude to others nor does she step on their toes.

It’s also why, even after Koushirou rubs her the wrong way and momentarily causes her to lash out at him for being insensitive about her feelings in Adventure episode 10, she also never seems to hold a grudge against him thereafter (especially since, for as much as he was acting pretty frustrating, she understands he was doing it out of good intentions). In fact, Mimi is pretty much incapable of holding a grudge at all. (More on this later!)

Mimi’s most famous incident of “succumbing to her vices” is Adventure episode 25, when she ends up letting the Geckomon and Otamamon pamper her while stringing along and refusing to do the job they’d needed her for in the first place (singing to wake TonosamaGeckomon). Let’s go over what led to Mimi getting in this situation:

Mimi was basically at her limit. She had been in the Digital World for what had been implied to be months. Going that long without her bath or soft bed or comfort, it’s understandable that she finally let stress overcome her and succumbed to her vices in full. This is basically Mimi at one of her worst possible breaking points, not her most of the time.

Taichi, Jou, and their partners never gave her a very good reason why they should leave (Taichi never explained the problems going on in the real world, nor that he’d even taken a pit stop there) and now, for all she knows, they’re trapped in the Digital World forever, so when she sees an offer to make it all stop hurting, she naturally takes it -- especially when the people telling her to leave aren’t giving her any reason why except that she should.

Even despite all that, Mimi has a complete mental breakdown after her tantrum ends up throwing everyone in jail, dreaming about how everyone must hate her now and how even the Geckomon and Otamamon are tiring of her (the fact this pops up in her dream implies that she’d had a feeling this was coming for a while now). Sora comes to give her a little encouragement, but even she says that Mimi already really knows what she should be doing now. Mimi ends up bringing everyone out to apologize to them and fulfill her duty before the night is even over.

So let’s recap: Mimi is so empathetic and worried about other people’s feelings and what they think of her that, even in arguably one of the worst mental health crashes we’ve ever seen her have on screen, she still breaks down at the prospect of disappointing everyone and making them hate her to the point she immediately recognizes how far she’s fallen and takes it back before the night’s even over. That is how much other people, ranging from Taichi to a crowd of Digimon she’s only vaguely acquainted with, matter to her.

The full “payoff” for this episode in terms of the light of the Crest of Purity glowing and achieving Lilimon evolution does not happen until Adventure episode 35.

It is interesting for a lot of reasons, mainly because it involves all of the events happening in response to things that don’t sound very virtuous on their face (early in the episode, Mimi insensitively comments on Palmon being “bad taste”, and later in the episode she starts considering the Digimon tormenting others unforgivable).

The “Crest of Purity” (sometimes “Innocence”) is something that’s often been difficult to translate, mainly because the easiest words that come to mind often have other unwanted implications, but the real point of it is that, again, Mimi is lacking in malice. The way she talks to Palmon at the beginning of the episode indicates she really didn’t think Palmon would take it seriously (she even urges her to “not think too much into it”), only to find out at the end of the episode that she sort of kind of did. (Trust me, she’s very sorry about it.) The other thing is that, when she starts protesting at the Digimon at the end of the episode, she’s doing this specifically because she’s weeping on behalf of all of the tormented civilians (including her family) that are being caught in the crossfire. She’s so constantly empathetic towards other people that seeing other people hurt, regardless of how well she knows them, just eats her inside. So for her, those who cause that kind of suffering are unforgivable, because they’re inflicting that pain on others.

This is also what leads to her breakdown near the three-quarters mark of the series. Like with how she eventually came to empathize with the Numemon who fought on her behalf, Mimi holds no grudge against Scumon and Chuumon despite them having flirted with her earlier, and Chuumon taking a hit for her hurts her the deepest among all of the other kids. Because Mimi is so empathetic towards others, every death starts tearing away further until she finally can’t take it anymore. 

Mimi is fundamentally the kind of person who hates fighting, and even from day one she’d never liked it -- her way of “encouraging” fighting was more like hoping that Palmon (or her evolved forms) could survive. If she wanted to win, it was in the sense of wanting everyone to Not Die; she was never belligerent. But now that the actual body count of people she considers friends is rising, she associates fighting so deeply with that body count that the pain gets to her, and the last straw breaks in Adventure episode 45 in the form of two people she considers friends, Taichi and Yamato, getting in a fight. Everyone around her is hurt. Everyone around her is pain. The naturally empathetic Mimi feels all of this, and she thus decides to pull back from the fighting.

Mimi being such a firm pacifist does have its benefits -- not only does it mean that she holds no grudge against Ogremon in Adventure episode 46 and bid for treating his wounds even though Jou (understandably!) is initially more skeptical because of how he’d initially tried to kill them, she also creates a major dent in Ogremon’s “fated rival” philosophy towards Leomon by forcing him to question: so what if you do defeat your rival? Then what? What’s the point of fighting? Does it actually make you feel better to try and prove your strength this way? (Even Leomon, for all he’s portrayed as noble, is still shown to have a petty investment in his conflict with Ogremon in the following episode.) Ogremon tries not to think too hard about it, but Mimi questioning “what he would do if Leomon were gone” becomes a question he really does have to confront when Leomon dies in the next episode...

...which is also an important learning lesson for Mimi herself as well: fighting may cause collateral damage, but not fighting doesn’t help things either, because when less-than-virtuous forces are at work, casualties will happen either way. In fact, it’s even worse to be a sitting duck, because now you’re just doing nothing when people die right in front of you. Which is a lesson that Jou had wanted to tell her earlier, but didn’t know how to describe to her in words because of his own complicated feelings:

What he wanted to tell her was this: that he didn’t see any likelihood of co-existing with the Dark Masters, and that they had no other choice but to fight them. Even a neutral country like Switzerland had a military. They would be invaded by enemy countries without one. It would be nice and ideal if they used the nonviolent resistance approach as Ghandi did. But that didn’t mean it was okay to just be killed without lifting a finger… But not even he could find a good answer.

However, Mimi is still a pacifist. Even if she finally understands that fighting is necessary, that should not mean that she should now force herself to become someone gung-ho and enthusiastic about it. This is why, in Adventure episode 50, Jou contemplates different ways they can productively contribute to the fight -- because Mimi should not be obligated to personally fight herself when it’s not in her fundamental nature, and Jou personally does not feel that he’s very good at it. But Jou, having put some thought into “one’s own path”, realizes that literal physical violence fighting isn’t the only way to be “part of the fight” -- and so while Jou starts to realize that his unique role is becoming someone who can be a capable healer and doctor for those who are wounded, Mimi has her own talents that she can use to bring Digimon and other allies together. Because Mimi is a kind and charismatic person whom everyone finds likeable and would be willing to come along with, and since she holds no grudges against anyone, nobody would hold any grudges against her, so she’s perfect for the role of “bringing people together for the sake of what they want to protect”.

And she does. Adventure being a series that respects the contributions of those who don’t necessarily participate by direct fighting, Mimi’s rallying together of the Digimon becomes key to saving everyone in Adventure episode 52, and the fact that everyone’s together in the end makes for a great group photo.

Speaking of the final episode, in case the point hadn’t been driven home enough that Mimi’s the most empathetic and emotionally sensitive of the entire cast, the series famously ends on her very emotionally compromised farewell with Palmon. Of course, Palmon’s the one who kind of initiated it (she’s the one who initially refuses to see Mimi because she’s too emotionally compromised), but, after all, the series ends on Mimi being so frazzled about it that she loses her hat.

Mimi in 02 and beyond

As with the other Adventure kids, Mimi’s character arc continues in 02, and we learn a lot about her before she even makes her first personal appearance!

Firstly, we learn that Mimi’s moved to America. The in-universe reason is that it’s for her father’s work...or, at least, ostensibly so, because 02 episode 40 implies that the actual reason was that her parents wanted them to be away from Digimon incidents. (Which, of course, didn’t last very long.) The meta reason for Mimi moving, however, very likely has to do with the fact that 02 involves a subplot of Chosen Children appearing all over the world, and Mimi’s character involves an innate talent for bringing people together.

We learn in Two-and-a-Half Year Break that Mimi moved in 2001, only one year before 02′s events, and eventually got caught in the 9/11 incident -- where she met a number of other American Chosen Children in New York and, now much stronger of heart since the events of Adventure, was able to help them in the recovery efforts, despite there being a language barrier. With this, and the fact she’s shown at a huge party in 02 episode 14: they’re not kidding when they say Mimi can become friends with pretty much anyone. Even going to an entirely different country and dealing with a language and cultural barrier, Mimi is such a naturally kind and compassionate person that she immediately doesn’t have any problem fitting in. (Because, really, someone that level of kind and friendly is hard to dislike.) And in a world where international solidarity between Chosen Children is getting more and more important, that is a very valuable role to have.

The other thing we find out early about Mimi in 02 episode 2 is that Sora catches on that Miyako is a lot like Mimi, based on the fact that Miyako also is empathetic and has an aversion to fighting. And Sora’s completely right, because when Mimi does come into the picture, the similarities -- and differences -- between her and Miyako say a lot about both characters.

When Mimi arrives in Japan in 02 episode 6 (for her cousin’s wedding), she and Miyako immediately get along with each other, and Miyako instantly role-models her, to the point of claiming her as an honorary older sister (despite already having older sisters herself!). It’s not surprising; Mimi and Miyako are both very bright and cheerful people, and Miyako even shares the background of being slightly pampered by her family (although presumably more due to her being the youngest of several siblings). Mimi, for her part, continues her trend of being likeable and fond of pretty much everything (including even her beloved tuna-mayo onigiri that she hadn’t had for so long), and is perfectly happy to be tight with Miyako.

The Digitamamon incident in 02 episode 14, however, adds an extra layer into why Miyako idolizes Mimi so much besides Mimi just being cool in general: Mimi is kind, forgiving, mature, and incapable of holding a grudge -- to the point her pacifistic tendencies kick in even when Digitamamon gets hit by a Evil Spiral and she refuses to fight him, despite him literally starting to beat her up. Again, Mimi came to understand the inevitability of having to fight back in Adventure, but Digitamamon is, to her, a friend who was trying his hardest to turn over a new leaf -- so, naturally, she tries to see if she can appeal to his heart instead. Miyako, on the other hand, is on the opposite extreme -- she’s so judgmental about her poor first impression with Digitamamon that, despite fully knowing well that Evil Spirals cause their victims to lose their ability to have reason, keeps trying to use it as evidence that Digitamamon was a traitor from the get-go.

Considering that the “secondary Digimentals” arc is largely about Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori coming to terms with their deficiencies in their respective traits and aspiring to do better, Miyako unfavorably compares herself to Mimi because Mimi is everything she wants to be and currently isn’t. Unlike Mimi, Miyako is aggressive, in-your-face, occasionally judgmental, belligerent, sometimes insensitive (not by choice), and often shallow, which she fully admits to in this episode. Of course, the reason Miyako gets the Digimental of Purity (Mimi’s trait) is because she hates this about herself -- even in 02 episode 31, she gives herself no shortage of grief for her foot-in-mouth syndrome and the fact she’s not as “kind” of a person she wants to be, and she herself is also fundamentally devoid of malice, just quick to jump to conclusions and a bit sidetracked by first impressions. (After all, Mimi was guilty of being accidentally insensitive when she called Palmon lacking in taste back in Adventure; the point is that when both of them do it, they really don’t mean badly, and end up sorry for it later.)

But that’s a story for another post about Miyako; more importantly, the reason Miyako is harsh on herself about this in this episode is that, in many ways, she’s everything Mimi is not, because Mimi is empathetic and mature and polite and never steps on anyone’s toes.

02 episode 25 gives us more to work with; first of all, she’s depicted in yet another completely different hair and fashion style (which she brings up another of during the winter season), and her drastic shifts in style indicate more of her “open-mindedness”; she’s open to trying out tons of new things and is willing to like just about anything. More importantly, however, she turns out to be completely open-minded about recruiting Ken to help out, even though she’s well aware of what he’d done as the Kaiser (and, again, Miyako sees her ability to be forgiving as something to look up to). Because, again, Mimi doesn’t hold a grudge; she doesn’t send anything accusatory or forceful to Ken, but simply believes that he should be given the chance to know what’s going on and help out if he so chooses, which becomes key to Miyako herself also choosing to accept Ken at the end of the episode.

Given that Mimi is portrayed as so open-minded towards trying all sorts of things, it’s probably no surprise that her “career” in Kizuna is so different from what we eventually know she’ll be doing in the epilogue -- instead of her cooking show, we see her running an online shopping business. After all, with her being so open-minded about wanting to do potentially anything, it’s very like her to "dabble” in a few different experimental things before (or perhaps “without”!) settling for something. What we know about this business is also quite on brand for her; her business specializes in “cute” (her preferred aesthetic, which she also shamelessly dresses in), and she’s established as setting up business all over the world to the point she has to constantly travel. Presumably, her natural charisma made it easy for her to set up connections.

Interestingly, her website profile also omits any discussion of any kind of university or other post-secondary education, implying that, unlike the others, she chose to dive directly into her career after high school. Again, it’s quite like her to find something she wanted to do and pursue it the moment it was in front of her -- no matter what it is, as long as it’s interesting.

Mimi’s largest amount of focus in regards to the movie is in To Sora, where she’s seen checking in on Sora after noticing she hasn’t been in the group chat in a while -- again, as someone constantly empathetic to how her friends are doing, it’s natural that she’s the one who catches on and decides she needs to check in. As someone who loves uplifting and supporting her friends first and foremost, she happens to be fully aware of what everyone’s currently up to (compare how Taichi had to be actively updated on Sora and Takeru’s status from Yamato in the movie proper), and also provides nothing but positive supportiveness to Sora’s troubles during their conversation -- as usual, always respectful and polite, and never condescending.

And, of course, she naturally empathizes with Sora having hesitation about fighting -- both because she’s been busy herself, but also because she, of course, understands exactly how it feels for fighting to be emotionally taxing -- and declares that she’ll support Sora with whatever she does, just like how she found her own path back in Adventure by choosing to contribute by bringing people together instead of fighting. She makes do on this promise as well, considering that she keeps up with supporting Sora during her exhibition.

By the time of the 02 epilogue, Mimi has decided to change tracks entirely and go for cooking, which, while being very different, is also very on-brand. This time, the part about “cooking” is something that comes from her family, since, after all, experimental cooking (...of some kind) was something Satoe got the whole family to embrace. The exact nature of her job is literally “culinary researcher”, which is a Japanese catch-all to refer to the sort of “food critic” who experiments with food and writes extensively (or, in this case, runs a TV show) about different ways you can enjoy and put together food, which also goes in mind with her streak of “open-mindedness”. The common point is, really, that everything Mimi does comes out of positivity, supportiveness, and love.

[thebashfulbotanist]

Mushroom Rules and Taboos

Mushroom season is in full swing! There are a few topics one should always avoid when talking with mushroom hunters. I’m a moderator on a mushroom identification group of about 30,000 people, and if you start talking about one of these topics, your post or comment will be deleted! Here are a few rules one should follow when talking with fellow mushroom hunters (and yes, I know these sound like a cross between Karen complaints and fae rules). 

1. Never ask for someone’s mushrooms spot. Asking for someone’s mushroom spot is tantamount to declaring you’re going to steal all of their mushrooms and leave them with nothing but severed stipes! This is very rude and hurtful. If you really need a hint as to where to find certain species, instead ask something like, “at what elevation in what mountain range did you find these?” That will allow the forager to give you a general answer, and won’t force them to give up their secrets. A kind forager will respond to, “Where is your mushroom spot?” with something like, “400m, Cascade foothills.” A less forgiving forager might stuff a wad of moss down your throat.

2. Do not argue about or even mention “cut versus pluck.” Whether you cut a mushroom from the ground with a knife or pluck it with your fingers has no significant effect whatsoever on the health of the mushroom population or how many mushrooms will come up the next year. There is a common misconception that cutting mushrooms with a knife is less damaging, but this is untrue. Cutting and plucking both don’t cause any harm! You’re just removing a fruiting body, and the real body of the mushroom is formed by mycelia underground. People feel really strongly about cut versus pluck, even if they know the different methods have no real effect on the fungi. Some people prefer to cut so others know they were there, or to keep their baskets clean, while others prefer to pluck to leave less visible debris in the forest, or to take more edible fungus. Either way: it should never be brought up. It’s a bannable offense in some groups - think, “We! Do not! Talk! About! The! Orangutan!”

3. Do not scold people for picking mushrooms they do not know the species of. This is called “pick shaming” in mushroom hunter communities. Sometimes, well-meaning folks will scold people for picking mushrooms they don’t know because they think it’s “wasteful” to pick a mushroom if they do not intend to eat it. This comes from a good place, since they’re obviously environmentally-conscious, but it also shows that they don’t know much about fungi. They are not plants! Revisit point 2: picking or cutting mushrooms has no effect whatsoever on the health of the fungus. More importantly, a lot of mushrooms need spore prints and a view of the entire specimen, from the base to the top of the pileus, to properly identify. In fact, to identify many toxic Amanita species, you must look at the volva at the base of the stipe, which requires pulling out the entire specimen. New foragers should indeed pick mushrooms to identify them - this is how they should learn. 

4. This is more of a pet peeve, but: do not ask “is this edible?”  or  “is this magic?” before you know what mushroom species you’re working with. Few things irritate me and other mushroom experts as much as seeing a picture of a toxic mushroom with the question, “Edible?” but no request for id. There are three reasons for this: First, I don’t want to be responsible for whether you eat a mushroom and get sick from it. I can tell you what I think it is, and there’s a 99.99% chance I’m correct, but if I’m either wrong or you have a particular sensitivity to that species (and many people do to common species like Laetiporus conifericola), I don’t want to get the blame for “telling you it was fine to eat.” Many mushroom hunters make a point of giving only the identification and letting the requester research edibility on their own for this reason. Second, me telling you if something is edible is not helping you learn to identify or hunt mushrooms, it’s just giving you a cheap way to repeatedly stick Agaricus foundinmyyardicus  on the forum and have someone else id it for you. Third, and more importantly, why are you putting things in your mouth if you don’t know what they are?  WHY?! What is wrong with you?! Mushroom maggots are also edible, but you would not eat them! 

5. Do not make unverified claims of mushroom medicinal use or, worse, offer medical advice unless you’re a trained and licensed professional. You can say, “There are some studies I found in this peer reviewed journal that indicate Trametes versicolor might be promising for such-and-such use,” but do not say stuff like, “Turkey tails cure cancer!” or, “Susan, I hear you had the flu. You should drink Ganoderma oregonense tea to boost your immune system!” Don’t risk poisoning someone, messing with their medication, or spreading pseudoscience by suggesting they use a mushroom for medicinal purposes unless you’re a trained medical professional. A forager who has casually read some journal articles is not a trained medical professional!  

6. Don’t mock folks for asking for confirmation of an “easy to identify” mushroom species. You’d be surprised by how many people misidentify species that are as “easy” to identify as Cantharellus formosus. I would much rather forty people post chanterelles and one accidentally post Hygrophoropsis aurantiaca while asking for confirmation than forty one people blindly eat their mushroom haul, thinking they’re chanterelles, only for one to get sick on Hygrophoropsis aurantiaca. Be responsible, and remember you were a beginner once, too. 

7. In identification groups, don’t give a definite identification unless you’re 100% sure of the mushroom someone is asking for an id of. If you’re unsure, say something like, “Looks like Laccaria bicolor,” or, “Compare to Amanita augusta.” Don’t say, “That’s Xerocomellus zelleri” with certainty unless you’re willing to bet on your mother’s life it’s Xerocomellus zelleri. This usually isn’t a big deal, but there was a bit of a kerfuffle on one of the mushroom forums a few years back when someone said, “That’s a matsutake!” about a deadly Amanita smithiana, and then proceeded to argue with David Arora, a legend among mycologists and the author of identification books like Mushrooms Demystified and All that the Rain Promises and More, upon being corrected. 

8. When identifying mushrooms, always use scientific names. Common names are colorful and easy to remember, but different species might have the same common name, or other people might be unfamiliar with the common name you’re using. Some species don’t even have common names! It’s totally okay to give both a scientific name and a common name, though, if the common name exists.