#go to another sk show

[lopez-richter-fangirl]

Definitely NOT having a breakdown over the $5000 musical Joey and Lauren did as friends being a catalyst for their relationship and now they’re doing a kickstarter video for their biggest budget show wearing wedding rings hahahaha who would do that absolutely not me

[airbenderedacted]

So who’s your favorite character in Wander Over Yonder? And what’s your fav ship(s)?

Oh, I love playing this guessing game!! ♡ ～('▽^人) ✨

Favorite character? Well...

[🎨📺]

As for ships, I wouldn't exactlyy say I ship anything in this show tbch, but I'd say I'm especially fond of Sylava, in a strictly fanon kinda way.

[koushirouizumi]

{M A N K I N} ~ R E N x {A I N U!}H O R O H O R O "IN THE E N D" M U S I C (C) L I N K I N P A R K (+Bonus P i r i k a) as S u p p o r t (for Horo)

Short Summary: "T I M E is a V A L U A B L E T h i n g"

Warning: Contains spoilers for later Horo fights {O.G. Series}, {plus a later Ren fight} - The fight is a bit graphic, (blood shown at end) Please be careful watching by the end. {Ren revives in eps immediately after, so it's not actually perma-death, Horo just doesn't Know} *This is an OLD piece made 10+ yrs ago. {Please excuse L.Q. Footage}

*Any Lip-sync was unintentional, but since it actually fit well, it was kept in as filler. {Might be removed in any future r e-m a k e}

By Me {DO NOT RE-PRODUCE OR RE-UPLOAD WITHOUT MY PERMISSION} M U S I C © L.i.n.k.i.n P.a.r.k}

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 2 - Voyeurism

Ghost x Soap x F!Reader - 2.3k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost enlists you to help him give his pup a good show. (Soap's POV)

cw: dom!ghost, puppy play, man in a dog cage, consensual but surprise voyeurism (for you), cock cage, ring gag

“Stay,” Ghost ordered, voice pitched low and quiet, the same way he talks over the comms. Johnny’s reaction is immediate, shoulders relaxing as he sinks back on his haunches in the dog crate Simon had locked him in. “Quiet now, hear? Don’t want you scarin’ off the bird.”

Johnny nods, carefully keeping his expression flat instead of annoyed, the wide o-ring gag making it so that even the slightest sound he makes will be impossible to muffle. This is his least favorite part of the punishment – Johnny's vocal, loves being vocal, but Simon loves to make him really struggle when he's in trouble. There hasn't been a punishment yet where Simon hasn't either gagged him or gotten mean about any noise he makes ungagged. 

(It would be easier to hate if Simon's mean didn't make Johnny melt, make his cock rock hard and leaky, but Johnny's not really in denial about what he is - being a slut usually gets him fucked until he's seeing stars, and it's even better if Ghost whips his ass raw beforehand.)

Ghost gives him another long, assessing look, and Johnny just barely holds himself back from shifting and earning himself even more discomfort before the fun can start. A moment later Ghost steps away, one last don’t fuck with me look sent to Johnny before he steps to open the door. 

You’d arrived several minutes ago but hadn’t been let in. Johnny’s sure Simon made up some flimsy excuse to keep you out while he trussed him up in his gear, but he’d been a bit preoccupied with getting his cock crammed into a tight cage to really care.

He can just catch a glimpse of you when Ghost opens the door, a long expanse of bare legs and a skirt that can’t possibly cover your ass, and already he’s struggling not to groan and get himself in trouble before anything even starts.

“Sorry,” Ghost grunts as he gestures you in, and Soap feels a flash of surprise at an actual apology from his Lt. “Had to crate the dog.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you say, voice soft and lovely and God Johnny just knows he��s going to be miserable for the foreseeable future. “But, will he- be in the room?”

Ghost snorts, and Johnny shifts on his knees, lacing his fingers through the wires of his crate. 

“Sure will,” Ghost says, closing and locking the door behind him as you shed your jacket. “He likes the show.”

Johnny can see the way your nose crinkles from where he is, a flash of disgust clear as day on your face as you turn back towards Ghost. “Excuse me–?”

Simon doesn’t bother answering, just jerks his head towards where Johnny’s cage is just barely visible through the open bedroom door.

Your face is still creased in disgust when you turn to follow Ghost’s line of sight, and Johnny just barely manages to bite back a moan as he gets a front-row seat to realization setting in for you. Your expression flips quickly from disgust, to shock, to confusion, to interest, flipping back and forth again and again before you settle on what seems to be tentative interest.

“He’s a noisy thing,” Ghost says, stepping up behind you and resting his hands low on your hips. “I told him to keep his trap shut, but well...”

You swallow, and Johnny can see the way your throat moves with the action, mimicking you unconsciously as best he can. You hesitate for a moment, standing on a precipice as Ghost feels you up and Johnny waits for your verdict.

“Not exactly fair, is it?” You finally say, leaning into the behemoth at your back. “With that thing in his mouth?”

The smirk on Simon’s face makes Johnny’s cock twitch in the cage, and the slightest sliver of a whine eeks out of his throat. He squeezes hard around the plug in his ass, breath hitching when that just makes him even needier.

“He deserves it.” Simon noses at your throat, mouth pressed against your skin. “Chewed up my boots when I was at work.”

It's an obvious lie, but you laugh and Johnny can’t stop the whine this time, leaning forward into the bars and wishing desperately that you weren’t so far away. The metal is cool against his flushed skin and he pants through the gag.

“Poor thing,” you coo, sighing as Simon does something to your neck that Johnny can’t quite see. “He was probably just lonely.”

Ghost makes a low sound of doubt, and if Johnny’s cock were free he’d be harder than diamond, he’s sure of it.

“Still, he knows he broke the rules,” Simon rumbles, and the two of you start moving forward, his big paws on your hips guiding you just where he wants you. “This is his punishment.”

You giggle when Ghost starts truly manhandling you, pulling your sweater off with little care for how you get tangled up in it and yanking at your bra with the same level of care. “What, watching us?”

Ghost hums an affirmative, and when you glance over at him and wink, Johnny moans. He can feel the drool dripping down his chin when you bend at the waist, pulling your skirt down and leaving yourself fully bared to the room.

Fuck, you’re not wearing any panties. The image of you walking to their apartment in a skirt that’s borderline indecent with nothing covering you… 

Johnny’s hardly aware of the whines coming from him, doesn’t manage to get control of himself until Ghost slams a hand on top of his crate and jolts him back into reality.

“The hell did I say, huh?” He asks, scowling. You’re already sitting on the bed, legs crossed all prim and proper and oh Johnny can’t wait to see you ravaged. “You even listenin’ to me, mutt?”

Johnny jerks his attention back up to Ghost, eyes wide and pleading as he nods, letting his hands fall from the cage to his lap and hunching his shoulders to make himself look as rueful as possible. Simon is blatantly unimpressed, eyebrow cocked. 

“Don’t give me that look. I told you quiet, and you’re over here yippin’ and barkin’.”

Johnny wants to glare and say that’s not true ye fuckin’ arsehole, I cannae even move my damn lips but he also wants his cock free from the cage keeping him soft, wants the plug in his ass to be a cock, so he gathers all his self control and ducks his head, silent and begging for mercy.

Simon gives it to him for once, giving in far more quickly than he usually would. Johnny attributes it to your presence and your cunt waiting for him on the bed, and looks at you from beneath his lashes with what he hopes is clear appreciation.

Ghost gives him one last look. “Don’t make me tell you again,” he says, before turning towards you on the bed. Johnny gets a fantastic view of him pulling his shirt off by the neckline, and hears the distinct sound of his belt being undone just a moment later.

His first test at keeping himself quiet comes when Simon drops his pants and leans over you, and Johnny realizes that he can hardly see a bit of your skin. Ghost’s got his back to the crate, and the bastard’s massive enough that he nearly swallows your form whole, leaving just your calves and feet visible when they wrap around his thighs.

Johnny lets his tongue rest on his bottom lip, panting loudly to try and ease the urge to whine and beg until you could be shifted to the side so he can see. 

His patience, as thin as it is, is rewarded just a moment later when Ghost picks you up by the thighs and all but throws you to the side. You squeal at the rough manhandling, laughing as he settles himself over you again. Ghost quickly kisses you, swallowing any more sounds you might make, and buries one of his hands between your thighs. 

There are words shared between the two of you that Johnny can’t quite hear, and the jealousy simmers deep in his gut. He can practically feel your lips on his, or Simon’s, wants nothing more than to be freed from both his cages and allowed to worm his way between your bodies. He's already stretched and prepped, he knows he'd be able to fuck you just seconds after the cage would come off.

But Ghost doesn’t come to free him, he just kicks his jeans fully off and strokes his cock above your stomach.

“Fuck,” you groan, loud enough for Johnny to hear now. You're squirmy beneath Simon, pushing yourself up against him and trying to hold him close with your legs. “I’m not sure it’ll fit.”

“It will,” Ghost says simply, unshakable confidence in his voice as he holds himself above you, lining his cockhead up with your hole. He goes at his own pace, all your pushing and pulling doing nothing.

Johnny can’t hold back his whine when he realizes he won’t be able to see, is stuck with just the sight of your face twisted in ecstasy as Simon steadily fills you. He wants to see Simon's cock disappear steadily, wants to see the rim of your hole squeeze him tightly and watch as slick drips down to your ass. He wants it so badly he could cry.

You’re quickly reduced to nothing more than the same pathetic sounds Johnny is stuck making, raking your nails down Simon’s back as he gives you no time to adjust to what Johnny knows is a nearly impossible stretch.

Your chest heaves, your breaths loud, and Simon quickly sets a pace that fucks any hope of speech away from you, keeping you soft and desperate beneath him. The sight of Simon’s powerful body moving over you has Johnny squirming, thankful that you’re loud enough to cover the noises he can’t keep in.  

“See?” Ghost grunts, hips snapping against yours. “Fits like a glove, bird.”

“F-full,” you gasp, smacking him on the back as he bullies his cock into you again and again, your legs kicking out on instinct as you're overwhelmed by him.

“Damn right,” Ghost says, and Johnny wants to be you so badly right now that he can hardly breathe, eyes welling up with tears as he watches the two of you. Drool drips from his tongue in a steady stream, mouth watering at the show before him and the music you’re making. He wants to beg and plead, to insist that he can be good, that he’ll listen if Ghost just lets him out for a turn.

His cock aches in its metal prison, hole pulsing around the plug keeping him spread, and the first few tears drip down his cheeks. He wraps his fingers in the crate bars so that he won’t pry the cock cage off himself. 

“Simon, Simon!” You cry, voice shrill as you’re chased towards a peak Johnny knows you're desperate for. “Right there, right there, right there, please!”

“You’re louder’n he is,” Ghost grunts, but he listens, fucking you even more roughly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you in place. “Gonna come on my cock, pretty? Gonna soak the bed for me?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Do it then.” He uses his free hand to twist one of your nipples, drawing a near-screech from you. Johnny can’t see much, not with the way Simon drops onto you to put his full weight behind each thrust, your body hidden beneath his. The two of you just become naked bodies pressed against one another, the rocking of Ghost’s hips the only true movement he can see.

You’re loud when you orgasm, and Johnny moans along with you, the sight of your blissed-out expression only driving his need higher and higher.

You’re limp beneath Ghost as he chases his own release in your cunt, your head rolling to the side so you can watch Johnny as Simon finishes himself off.

Ghost groans as he comes, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts slow. Johnny can practically feel the come in his own hole, wants something fucking him almost more than he even wants to come. The plug is nothing compared to Ghost's cock, he knows it, and he wants something to really make him burn nearly as much as he wants to get off.

You’re boneless and relaxed on the bed in the aftermath, your only noise a small sound of discomfort when Simon pulls himself out of you a few long moments later. Your eyes don’t fully close, though Johnny can tell they want to. Instead you keep your gaze trained on Johnny’s tense form as he fights to keep himself sane in his cage.

He can’t tear his eyes away from you as Ghost stands, finally able to see your fully naked form without anything else in the way. You spread your legs a bit for him, a silly smile playing at your lips, but the angle you’re at on the bed keeps Johnny from seeing your cunt. 

Ghost doesn’t make any attempt at being quiet when he unlocks the cage, key clanking loudly against the lock and the lock clanking loudly against the bars. He’s just as brief with Johnny’s gag, almost dismissive as he undoes the straps and tugs it off.

Only once his mouth is free does Johnny finally turn to look at him, forcing his eyes away from your enticing form but still staying obediently quiet.

Ghost has that sated look in his eye he only gets after truly satisfying fucks, and that spark of jealousy in Johnny’s gut grows just a bit knowing he wasn't the one to put it there. Simon tilts his head when they make eye contact, and moves back from the cage enough to make it clear he wants Johnny out.

“Go get your treat, boy,” he says as Johnny shifts forward, staying on his hands and knees and whimpering when the plug shifts inside of him. “You took your punishment well.”

Johnny licks his lips as he turns and gets his first true look at your cunt, well-fucked and dripping slick. He licks his lips as he shifts forward, cock-cage easily forgotten when he gets his first taste of you.

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons

I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.

Warnings: SMUT

- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.

- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.

- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.

- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.

- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Lonely!Seungkwan shows up at your fishing tent and goes fishing alone because his friends didn't show up. And you make sure he doesn't feel lonely by offering him company on your breaks. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Mentions of being left out, smut, fluff, penetrative sex, fingering, g'spot stimulation, squirting, oral (m. receiving), sk is mentioned ab being good with girls一he fucks u good because he likes you sm <3

[Issue Club Serie]

You arrive at the fishing center early, just as the first light of dawn breaks over the island bay. The salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs, a familiar comfort. Your dad's fishing center stands quiet and still, a stark contrast to the bustling weekends when groups of men flock here, escaping their everyday lives with beer and fishing rods. You brace yourself for another routine day of serving loud, boisterous customers.

But today is different. As you unlock the kiosk and roll up the gate, you notice a lone figure waiting by the entrance. He's much younger than your usual clientele, with dark brown hair that catches the early morning light. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," you call out as you finish opening up, "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, I'd like to rent a fishing rod," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of shyness.

"Just one?" you ask, somewhat surprised. He nods.

You hand him a rod and watch as he sets up at one of the chairs by the water. He moves with a calm, practiced ease, casting his line into the bay and settling in. You expect his friends to arrive soon, but as the morning stretches into afternoon, no one joins him. He remains alone, reeling in a fish here and there with quiet patience.

The hours pass, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of your tasks. When the guy finally returns to the kiosk, you notice the slightly downcast expression on his face as he pays for the rental.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

He chuckles softly, "Not many options," he says, and you frown, wiping down the counter.

"What do you mean?" you probe gently.

"I invited some friends to come fishing with me today, but no one showed up," he admits, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. There's something about his cool, easy-going demeanor that makes his confession all the more poignant. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry to hear that," you say sincerely.

He shrugs, offering a pained smile. "It's okay. No need to be."

But you can tell it does bother him. The way he looks down at his hands, the slight slump in his shoulders—it's clear he had hoped for more from today.

As he leaves, you find yourself hoping that next time, he'll have someone to share his fishing trip with. Until then, you'll remember the lonely young man who came to the fishing center, looking for company and finding only the quiet expanse of the bay.

A few days pass, and the familiar sight of the boy on his bike comes into view again. Your kiosk is already open as he pedals up. You glance at him and smile. “Good morning...?”

“Seungkwan,” he says with a small nod.

“How can I help you today?” you ask, leaning your elbows on the counter.

“One fishing rod, please,” he replies.

“Again,” you think to yourself. You give him a small smile and hand him the rod. He sets up alone, just like last time. You sigh at the sight. It’s a sunny Thursday, the perfect morning to fish under the warm sun with good company. With no customers around, you decide to join him.

You grab your fishing rod, some bait, and two glasses of cold lemonade. As you approach, you place the cups on the table next to him and your things on the floor. Seungkwan watches you set up a chair beside him, glancing at the two glasses. You start fishing by his side, and it’s completely silent. Seungkwan seems so used to being alone that your presence feels foreign to him.

After a while, the silence begins to feel natural. You break it, asking, “Is there a reason why your friends didn’t come today?”

He looks at you before turning his gaze back to the water. “Well, Joshua works a lot, Seokmin studies non-stop, Woozi doesn’t leave his home, and Jeonghan is dating right now. So... I don’t blame them.”

You hum thoughtfully. “They must be very busy.”

He nods. “They are.”

You hand him the lemonade, and he thanks you. Then, he asks, “Why are you fishing with me?”

“Well, I’m not exactly fishing,” you say. You both glance at your rod, which is just laying in the water, not cast far out, just resting on the sand.

He laughs. “Yes, I’ve noticed.”

You shrug, laughing too. “I’m used to selling fishing stuff, not really going fishing.”

“Then why are you fishing now?” he asks.

You smile. “I wanted to talk with you.”

Seungkwan looks surprised. “You don’t need to keep me company out of pity.”

“No,” you brush his idea away, “I really wanted to get to know you.”

Someone genuinely excited to know about him? He feels so happy he almost explodes. Every time you ask him about his favorite song, what he likes to do, what he’s studying, or why he likes to fish, he feels more and more content.

As the morning sun climbs higher, your conversations flow easily, the gap between two strangers closing bit by bit.

Seungkwan fights the urge to visit your dad's fishing center every day. He doesn't want to seem desperate. Each time he comes, he brings something new—a sweet treat, a fresh loaf of bread. You two have developed a routine of walking along the beach at sunset, feeling the cool waves lap at your feet. 

Sometimes, he even helps you with the work at the tent. Your dad is charmed by his kindness, and you can't help but love Seungkwan's company too.

He's become like a keychain, always by your side. The thoughts of him being alone have dissipated since he met you. Your friends adore him too, though you sometimes have to remind them that you were his friend first. His good looks don't go unnoticed, and it’s hard to deny that you noticed his charisma from the first time you saw him.

Now, as you close the kiosk after a successful Saturday, Seungkwan helps roll down the window gate. Your dad has gone to take some goods to the city center, leaving just the two of you. You rearrange the fishing rods on the holder on the wall, glancing at Seungkwan out of the corner of your eye. darkened interior closed kiosk, you can see the outline of his physique through his tight shirt.

"Thanks for your help today," you say, trying to sound casual.

"No problem. I like being here," he replies with a smile.

You finish with the rods and turn to face him fully. "You know, you don't have to bring something every time you come."

He shrugs, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I like seeing you smile."

The words make your heart skip a beat. You step closer, his body resting on the counter "I like seeing you too, Seungkwan."

He seems to consider this for a moment, then says, "I don't feel so alone anymore, thanks to you."

The tension between you installs, but it's a comforting kind of tension, one that promises something more. In that moment, you realize how much he means to you, how much his presence has become a part of your life. The darkness of the kiosk feels intimate, like a cocoon wrapping around the two of you.

"You know," you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "you're pretty good at this fishing center stuff. My dad might start paying you."

Seungkwan laughs, the sound filling the small space. "I'd do it for free, just to be around you."

Your heart swells at his words. "Careful, or I might just take you up on that."

He grins, and the warmth in his eyes makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. "Deal," 

You two start to notice how close your bodies have become, a proximity you didn't even realize until now. The air is thick with the shared breath between you and Seungkwan, heavy and shallow. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you sense him moving even closer.

"Seungkwan," you say softly, breaking the tension. "You said you were alone because of your friends... but I never asked if you had a girlfriend."

He looks at you, his expression serious. "No, I don't."

Your heart races as you gently pull on the hem of his shirt. "So, if I kiss you right now, there won't be any problems, right?"

He breathes out slowly, his eyes locked onto yours. "No problems at all," he whispers.

You take advantage of the intimate darkness of the kiosk, leaning in to press your lips against his. His body responds instantly, molding against yours. One of his hands finds its way behind your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss, while the other slides down to your ribs, fingers teasing the edge of your bikini, thumb sliding on your underboob before slipping under it to touch your nipples. 

The sound of your kisses fills the small space, wet and urgent. "Kwan," you gasp, pulling back slightly to catch your breath.

He hums, eyes dark with desire as he looks at you. You turn quickly to lock the door, a preventable act. Before you can turn back, Seungkwan's body is pressed against yours from behind. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as his hips grind on your ass. You can feel the hard bulge between his legs pressing against you.

Your head rolls back onto his shoulder as you linger in the sensation, his lips finding your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His hands roam over your body, one slipping inside your shorts, the other trailing up to your boob.

One thing Seokmin had told you when Seungkwan brought you to meet him was that Seungkwan was really good with girls when they studied together. 

You had forgotten it.

But now, with his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, under your bikini, as you grind against him, the memory suddenly resurfaces. You didn't even notice when you started moaning, your head resting on his shoulder, mouth open as louder moans escape with each movement of his fingers.

You feel so wet, as if you'd been swimming in the ocean, but the truth is that you're melting under Seungkwan's touch. He curls his fingers against your g'spot, and you quiver, your hand bumping against the wall, knocking a few fishing rods to the ground.

"C-cumin'," you warn, your hips rolling against his hand. 

He intensifies the curl of his fingers, making them go deep into your pussy, reaching the spongy spot harder, making your body flinch up with the strength of his grip. His other hand holds your ass firmly against his cock, guiding your movements.

"That's it," he whispers in your ear. "Let go."

Your back arches, pushing your ass harder against him. The sensation completely consumes you, every nerve in your body is glowing with delight. Your orgasm builds rapidly, the tension coiling tightly in your core until it snaps, making you cum, his hand drenched inside your bikini. You cry out, your body trembling as you ride the high of your orgasm, Seungkwan's fingers never stopping their fast pace.

As you come down from your peak, he holds you close, his breath hot against your neck. You can still feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you, a constant reminder of how much you both desire each other.

He removes his hand from inside your bikini and shorts, and you can feel the wetness as he slides his hand up your belly. Your mind snaps to attention when you hear him sucking his fingers clean, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You turn around, your legs like jelly as you manage to kneel between him and the door.

Your hands are desperate to find the hard muscle of his cock. Seungkwan braces himself by laying a hand on the door frame, and the sight of his cock, slightly slapping your face as you pull his boxers down, makes his knees quiver. The bulbous head rests against your cheek, smearing precum on your skin.

You relax your jaw, preparing yourself. Holding the crown of his cock, you prop your hands on his balls and take his perfect length into your mouth. You've seen a lot of beautiful things in your life, but hearing Seungkwan's moans is quickly becoming your favorite. He moans, sensitive to the slightest licks, and the sound makes you keenly aware of how wet you are, your bikini and shorts sopping together.

"God, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding you.

You hum in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. You take him deeper, savoring the salty taste and the way he fills your mouth. Each moan he releases, more you deepthroat him, your cum pooling between your legs.

Seungkwan's breathing becomes ragged, his hips bucking slightly as he tries to control himself, his grip tightening in your hair.

You pull back slightly, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him in again. The way he reacts to every touch, every flick of your tongue, makes you feel powerful, in control. You glance up at him, seeing the bliss etched on his face, lit bitten to contain his moans, and it only spurs you on.

The sounds of his pleasure, the taste of him, the feel of his body trembling—it's unforgettable. You lose yourself in the act, in the way you're linked, the darkness of the kiosk, the intimacy of the moment, everything else fades away.

He pulls you off him with a gentle but firm hand, panting heavily. "I don't want to finish like this," he says, voice hoarse. "I want to be inside you."

You nod, breathless and eager. He helps you to your feet, and you feel the slickness between your thighs, a signal of your arousal. Seungkwan kisses you deeply, hungrily, tasting himself on your tongue as he guides you to the counter. His hands roam over your body, shivers following whenever he moves them on you.

You lean back, feeling the cool surface against your skin as he pushes your shorts and bikini aside. Every nerve in your body alight with need., and Seungkwan seems very proud of the effect he was having on you. 

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you breathe, barely able to wait any longer.

With a final, searing kiss, he positions himself and pushes into you slowly, filling you completely, his cock so rigid, fighting to penetrate, as your pussy squelch around him. He starts to thrust in and out slowly, even gradually the feeling is intense, because you had already one orgasm, and Seungkwan was looking for his. 

"Seungkwan," you moan, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

He groans in response, his movements becoming more urgent. "I can't hold back," he admits, his voice strained.

"Don't," you say, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer. "Faster, please," you ask, your voice desperate against his lips. 

The request makes him nearly collapse to his knees, overwhelmed by your need.

Seungkwan adjusts his grip, holding your leg up with one hand under your knee, spreading you wider as he thrusts deeper. Your head falls back, strangled moans escaping your mouth as your eyes roll back in ecstasy. The sensation is overwhelming, the heat of his embrace makes you feel dizzy and weightless.

At a certain point, you become aware of Seungkwan sobbing in pleasure in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. You glance down, seeing yourself dripping onto the ground, squirting uncontrollably. You couldn't hold back even if you tried; the orgasm doesn't just crash over you—it overturns you completely.

You stare in shock, gasping for air as the longest orgasm of your life pulses through you. Your body convulses with pleasure, and Seungkwan's reaction only heightens the intensity. His raspy moans fill the air, his balance faltering as he tries to maintain his rhythm.

He pulls out of you, unable to hold back any longer, and strokes his cock with his hand. His cum spills onto the floor, mixing with your own fluids. His body convulses against yours, and you can feel his weight as he leans on you for support.

You're left trembling, unsure whether to hold onto the counter behind you or to cling to him. Your legs are weak, and your breaths come in shallow gasps. Seungkwan's body is still pressed against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath of such an intense experience.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice still shaky.

You don't answer, your breath still coming in shaky gasps. Instead, you pull Seungkwan into a tight hug, feeling his warmth envelop you. He hugs you back just as tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

The two of you stand there for a while, wrapped up in each other, trying to regain your composure. Your heart is pounding, but there's a sense of calm in the embrace, a shared understanding that words can't quite capture.

His hands move gently over your back, a soothing motion that helps you steady your breathing. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own.

Seungkwan finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "I don't want this to end," he whispers.

You nod against his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Me neither."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, "I never thought I'd find someone like you here, I don't want to be alone again," he admits, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You smile, knowing that the day you decided to spend with this lovely boy, resulted in something like this. "I feel the same way."

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn't realized was there. "Let's not let this be just a moment," he says, his gaze earnest. "I want to be with you, really be with you."

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you feel lighter than air. "I'd like that," you say, your voice steady and sure.

He smiles, and it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Good," he replies, leaning in to kiss you softly.

The kiss is gentle, a promise of more to come. As you pull back, you both laugh softly, the tension melting away into something lighter, more hopeful.

"We should probably clean up," you say with a small chuckle, glancing at the mess on the floor.

Seungkwan nods, a playful grin on his face. "Yeah, we made quite the mess."

Together, you set about tidying up the kiosk, the comfortable silence between you filled with a new sense of unity. Every now and then, your hands brush against each other, sending those butterflies to your stomachs. The mundane task of cleaning up feels almost ceremonial now—a simple act that solidifies the bond between you.

[nana-au]

JJK bf's take care of you when you're sick

₊˚ପ⊹ N.Kento & S.Gojo

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 1.1k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

N.Kento:

The moment your throat so much as tickles, Nanami does his damndest to get you back to your usual self. It feels strangely paternal how attentive he becomes, not allowing you to lift a finger for yourself. 

You first notice that you woke up sweating, your throat dry, and your eyes heavy. You check to see you still have another 3 hours before work but God you need some water. It’s all you can think about and you stumble into the kitchen, filling a glass. You drain the cup of its lukewarm water clearing your throat repeatedly as you notice it doesn’t go away. You fill it up twice. Then thrice. You begin to panic, realizing you feel freezing cold and boiling hot all at once. 

“Baby? Where’d you go? Come back to bed sweetheart.” He stumbles out, entering the threshold of the kitchen. You hate the fact you are trying to blink back tears, you always become such a baby when you get sick. “What’s wrong doll?” he asks you, pulling you into his bare chest. You babble out that you don’t feel good and his big hand goes to check your temperature. His cool palm feels good against your burning forehead and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes. He clasps his hands in yours and walks you into your shared bathroom, helping you down on the toilet seat before rummaging in the medicine cabinet. He pulls out the thermometer and you stick your tongue up for him to place it under. While you two wait he strokes your hair wordlessly. You can tell he is barely awake, eyes squinting and his hand in your hair forgetting to move. 

The thermometer beeps and he pulls it out from under your tongue. He puts the results up close to his eyes, forgetting his glasses on the bedside table. He doesn’t tell you the number because he knows it will only make you upset. “Looks like we’re gonna spend the day at home.” 

The two of you call out of your respective jobs and Nanami gets to work. He draws you a warm bath with lavender soaking salts, helping you strip from your night clothes. You sniffle and you hardly notice the fact you are giving him pathetic puppy eyes once your shirt comes off. He clicks his tongue at you, telling you that you have nothing to worry about. “I’m here,” he reassures you. 

While you soak he sets up the couch for you with a pillow and blanket. When you're out and after he assists you in putting on clean clothes and fuzzy socks he already has your breakfast on your lap. “Do you need me to feed you too?” he teases, squeezing the plump skin of your cheek. He puts on your favorite show and rushes to get you a pain reliever and vitamin c gummies. He makes sure to sit on the couch with you so you don’t become lonely but is quick to get up when you need a cold cloth against your face. While you nap he runs a few errands, grabbing your favorite sport drinks for extra hydration and the soup from your favorite place. He spends the rest of the day with you, tending to your every need. Nanami refuses to entertain you when you babble about how guilty you feel that he is taking care of you. “Focus on getting better and I’ll focus on making you better,” he promises.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

S.Gojo:

Gojo knows that he can’t take away your cold, but he will make sure your high-strung personality doesn’t get in the way of you getting better.

He can’t take you seriously when you throw your head back and groan. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought you got news the world was ending. You went to the doctor for your yearly check up when they discovered a fever and swollen lymph nodes. You were shocked, you felt completely fine. That was until you woke up the next day with the worst sore throat of your life, paired with a perfectly obnoxious cough. When Gojo called you that morning you made a huge deal about it, telling him not to come over and to cancel your plans for the rest of the week. He mentioned dropping off some cough syrup and you frantically told him to skip it. You would be fine! He just had to stay away. You would die if you got your boyfriend sick. 

At around 6pm, the white-haired sorcerer was at your door carrying a grocery bag of goodies for you. You groaned, exasperated that he showed up. You were fine! It was him who needed to stay away. He flashed his teeth at your reaction, pushing past you and setting out the supplies he got you on your coffee table. “I got you the cherry flavored cough drops, I hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t sure what you would like.” You made sure to thank him before feebly attempting to kick him out. He crossed his arms at you, eyebrow raising, “Or what bunny?” You throw your hands up and sit down on your couch in a huff. The abrupt action causes you to break out in a coughing fit and Gojo rolls his eyes. He unwraps a cough drop and once your coughing fit calms he pushes the red menthol past your lips. You start to speak up before his finger hovers over your mouth, “Quiet,” he commands. If you felt even an ounce better you would have rolled your eyes, but instead you obeyed. He began moving the couch pillows down to one end before sitting down, leaning against them. He pulled you close into his arms and laid your head against his chest. Grabbing the remote, he turns up the volume of the movie you had playing and sits there in silence with you. You two hadn’t been dating for very long and it was odd to be quiet with him. Your relationship was founded on the chaos you two thrived on. But here the two of you were, dead silent with his slender fingers rubbing soothing circles on your skin. You grew incredibly sleepy from soaking in his warmth, the dialogue in the movie turning into radio static in your mind. Satoru’s chest was moving you up and down to the rhythm of his breathing and his left hand was tangled in your hair, massaging your scalp. You were probably drooling from how relaxing it was but you couldn’t muster the strength to bring your hand up to wipe it. “Just rest,” his voice broke out from your fading thoughts, “Satoru’s got you,” if you were any more conscious you could have heard the smirk that his words broke through. 

[gloomwitchwrites]

i’ve never really seen dark and unhinged reader x 141 tbh

You know, anon. I am not one to write an unhinged or dark reader. Not that it hasn't ever occured to me, but I just haven't written it. So, to you, I tip my hat for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit. I figured that if I was going to write a reader that is dark and unhinged, then I'm going for it. All in. Give me the blood and gore. I want it all. No limits.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: Stalker AU, Serial Killer AU, Detective AU, Cartel AU, canon-typical violence, descriptions of bodily injury, surveillance, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), arranged marriage, creampie, oral sex, knife play, gunplay, brief blood consumption, hostage situations, abductions, using a knife as a dental instrument

Word Count: 3.2k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish (Detective/Serial Killer AU)

“Need some company?”

While it’s a question, you don’t really intend for the man to answer. You sit yourself on the stool at the bar, one arm resting against the polished wood.

His dreary demeanor shifts, morphing into interest.

“That’d be lovely,” he replies.

The Scottish lilt to his voice is downright sexy. Your smile grows. There is real attraction in it, even if your purpose is nefarious. This conversation is no accident. You did not stumble into this specific bar on the off chance that you’d find the exact man you’ve been looking for.

No. Not a coincidence.

You’ve been stalking Detective MacTavish for the last couple of weeks. It’s not because you want to fuck him—although that is very much on the table now that you’re sitting here—but because this man is hunting a killer.

Not just any killer.

He’s hunting you.

But not you. Because he doesn’t know. No one does.

At least, not yet. That’s why you’re here after all. To worm your way in, to find out if they’re close to fracturing it all, and bringing you in.

By the appreciative look on Detective MacTavish’s face, you suspect that you’re likely in the clear. Yet knowing for sure won’t hurt anything. Plus, Detective MacTavish is easy on the eyes. Having a bit of fun and playing with your food first won’t hurt anything.

“What are you drinking?”

“Scotch.”

“A gentleman’s drink,” you reply softly, almost a coo.

The smirk on his face widens into a devious grin. “Cheeky.” He downs the rest and gestures at the bartender. “Two. One for the lass here.”

When the glass appears before you, you scent it first, enjoying the smoky aroma. You take a sip. It bites—but it’s delicious.

“You like it?” he asks.

You slowly run your tongue over your lip. It’s a calculated move. Seductive. Detective MacTavish notices, his gaze following your tongue like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“Puts some hair on my chest,” you reply, smiling against the glass as you take another sip.

Detective MacTavish laughs. It’s genuine and sweet. Casually, you scan his body. No wedding ring. But that doesn’t mean much. Public records showed no marriage certificates or even divorce papers.

Not that it would matter. This is about saving your ass.

“To be honest, I’ve been watching you.”

Detective MacTavish cocks an eyebrow. “Watching me?”

In more ways than you know.

“I always walk by here on my way home from work. Sometimes I stop. Sometimes I don’t. Always see you though. On Tuesday and Thursday.” You shrug casually. “Thought I’d finally stop in. Have a drink with you.”

“That’s bold.”

“It is,” you agree. You present your hand and introduce yourself.

“John MacTavish. Friends call me ‘Soap.’”

“Why is that?” you ask, placing your chin in your hand.

You already know, but you want to hear what his version is.

“Got it while serving in the military.”

“So, a secret then?”

He nods. “You could say that.”

You give him your best smile. “And what will it take to get you to spill a few secrets?”

Turns out, not much.

Detective MacTavish groans loudly, his skin glossy with sweat. You take him deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head as you lazily suck. He is a gorgeous specimen. Solid, thick muscle in all the right places.

You retreat slowly, lips tightening to suck a bit harder before his cock pops from your mouth.

The next moan from his lips is sweet. Pushing upward with your hands, you lean into him, and he greets you, lips meeting. The kiss is brief and sweet, and then it becomes anything but. Detective MacTavish grabs the back of your neck and drags you against him, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless.

“Get on your back, lass,” he growls.

You obediently do so, spreading your legs in invitation.

The condom goes on and then he’s inside you again. Detective MacTavish has stamina, and you’re near the breaking point. He pants above you, thrusting perfectly deep, making your toes curl. Your legs settle against him, thighs cradling his hips as skin meets skin.

He dives in for another kiss, and then you’re gone. Completely wrecked.

The orgasm claws its way up to the surface, bursting from your throat to saturated his mouth. Detective MacTavish swallows down the moan, staunching the noise with his own pleasure.

It ends with the two of you tangled up. Sweaty. Chests heaving. Eyelids heavy with lust.

“They call me ‘Soap’ because of who well I clean out a place.” His voice is a but rough—a little husky. It’s sex-laced and perfectly content.

“I’m guessing that doesn’t mean you’re a beast with a mop and bucket.”

MacTavish chuckles. “Aye. I’m good with that, too.”

You turn over in his arms, the two of you gently stroking the other until sleep creeps in. At least, for him it does. Once he’s settled and snoring, you slip from the bed, moving silently into the kitchen.

On the table are stacks of files. Carefully, you open each one, scanning them until you find what you’re looking for. It’s the case file on your hits. You comb through it, but there is nothing about you. Not a peep. And the possible list of suspects are just characteristics. They think it’s some middle-aged white man. How fucking wrong they are.

Gently, you return the file where you found it, slipping back into the bedroom.

No. You don’t need to kill Detective MacTavish. Not yet.

You can still have a bit of fun.

John Price

Every step is a second lost, yet ground gained.

Like a swarm of wasps, bullets fly past Price, striking concrete. Little chunks fly, and then whole pieces go airborne.

Price dives. Rolls. Lands back on his feet.

It’s hell on his knees, and fucking worse on his back, but he hardly feels it. The goal is retrieval. The goal is to find you alive.

Teammates don’t leave each other behind. If one falls, they go back, even if it’s later down the line. You pick them up. Drag them if you fucking have to.

The thing is, you aren’t lost.

Just taken. A hostage.

The wankers that took you didn’t make it far. You’ve only been gone for forty-eight hours. Not long, but long enough that anything could have happened.

Price doesn’t want to linger on it. Doesn’t want to think about what may or may not have occurred while you’ve been away. Doing that won’t help things. It will only take his mind off the task ahead. His focus needs to be on you and you alone.

Price’s heart hammers in his chest. It thumps so loud it nearly drowns out the buzzing of the flying metal. Sweats sticks to his brow, rubbing against his helmet.

Lifting his rifle, John pulls the trigger twice.

A sharp cry followed by a spray of dark red paints the surrounding area in a pretty little arc.

“Do you have a visual?” asks Price into the comms.

Ghost’s reply is immediate. “No, sir.”

Sighing, Price peers over the barrier he’s hiding behind.

Nothing.

No sound. No movement.

Slowly, Price emerges, rifle raised. Each step is a stalk, a predator seeking prey. Price will happily empty more lead into the next person that crosses his path.

Entering the next room, he finds this one empty. There are stacks of crates but nothing else. The only thing of note is a door in the far wall. It is plain and unassuming. Price heads for it.

Reaching out, he curls his gloved hand around the handle. He pushes down, quickly pulls back, opening it wide before aiming the firing end of his rifle into the opening.

No one emerges.

No one stirs.

But of course, they wouldn’t.

There is a secondary door behind this. It is solid and made of metal with a keypad. Price enters the code he got from intel and the door beeps, the light turning green.

It swings open, and inside is a bloodbath.

In the middle of the room is a simple, plain table. It’s unpolished, rough wood. Untreated and left to the elements. There are stacks of cards and beer bottles on top, and not much else.

Of the four chairs, only one is occupied.

But the occupant has no head.

It’s not blown off. It’s sawed off. Placed in the middle of the table.

The three other people who must have occupied the chairs are strewn across the room. Some are gutted, insides around their downed corpses like they were yanked out by a rabid animal.

Price steps around them, his boots touching more blood than concrete floor.

“I have four down. Maybe more.”

“You have a visual on her?” comes Ghost’s response.

“No,” replies Price, throat suddenly dry.

He sweeps the room, but no one comes out to fire at him, or to try and halt his progress. It is entirely quiet.

The light overhead flickers. Price turns, noticing another door. This one stands open, revealing a flight of stairs.

Price approaches, and stops at the top.

There is another body here. It’s near the top, arms outstretched, fingers digging like they tried to claw themselves forward. Price steps around it and nearly slips in the blood.

It’s fucking everywhere.

All over the place.

He descends, exiting out into another room, this one much smaller than the previous one.

At first, Price keeps his rifle raised, but then he lowers it, back straightening.

You are there. In the middle of the room.

Sitting.

Sitting atop a large pile of corpses. Your left boot digs into the top of someone’s skull, but you don’t seem to notice. You’re humming a little tune, almost whistling.

There is blood in your hair. Blood on your face.

It is under your nails and soaked into your clothes.

Leaning back, you curl back your lip, the tip of the knife coming to rest between two teeth as you dig something out.

Price swears he sees bloody chunks there, too.

Something comes out, and Price flinches.

Only then do you glance up.

"Took you long enough, Captain."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (Cartel AU)

There’s a body on the floor.

Not yours. And not Kyle’s.

A competitor. A rival.

You brought the man before Kyle. Tracked him down. Dragged him up for execution.

When the original marriage deal was drawn up, Kyle thought he’d get a pretty face with nice tits that would keep his dick wet and give him some sons to carry on the family legacy.

You do keep his dick wet. But you’re not a spoiled cartel daughter.

Oh, no.

You’re a serpent. A viper.

You are venom and steel.

With you, there is an equal. There is a companion. There is a woman who will give him what he needs to carry on but will happily pull the trigger to see it done.

You are just as fucking bloodthirsty as he is.

Kyle twists his wrist, observing the barrel.

The body on the floor is twisted and broken. The bullet was a mercy.

He glances up, notices the knife you’re holding. At first, you’re not looking at Kyle. You’re staring at the dead man with a blank face. But Kyle reaches out, brushing his thumb across your cheek, smearing red.

You turn then, smiling.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs.

You do so, presenting your tongue. Kyle slides the barrel over your tongue, and then it’s in your mouth. He fucks your mouth with it, and you take it happily. Kyle grabs the front of your throat, turning you away from the scene on the ground.

The knife goes up, presses against his neck.

“Fucking do it, love.”

Your lips are suctioned around the barrel of the gun. Eyes wicked. Knowing. The knife slowly slides upwards, the flat side pressing against Kyle’s lips. He parts his lips, licks off some of the blood.

Kyle eases his hand on your throat, and the gun slowly slides out with a wet pop.

“Show me that pretty pussy.”

Kyle drops his hand, and you saunter backward. Leaning back on the low table, you present yourself, legs spread, pussy bare for him.

He presses the barrel of the gun to your pussy.

“Safety on?” you ask.

Kyle shrugs, and then he thrusts forward a bit, the barrel breaching. You moan loudly, and Kyle gives you more. He moves it in and out of your pussy, watching it appear and disappear, becoming slicker with your juices.

You whimper, and Kyle retreats, placing the gun on the table. Reaching for the knife you discarded, Kyle runs the flat edge over his palm, removing the blood.

Pressing his palm to your mouth, you lick it off—lick him clean as Kyle undoes the front of his pants.

It doesn’t matter that there is a dead man in the room.

Possibly dead.

Kyle didn’t really look. He just shot. He might have missed something vital. The guy isn’t moving but he must still be slightly aware. In pain. The very idea fuels his erection.

Kyle is inside you and thrusts in seconds, every stroke frantic and needy. You take it all, fingernails clawing at him, tearing at his clothes and likely breaking skin.

When you grin, there is blood in your teeth. Kyle matches the smile, and then he’s kissing you, tasting you and the gore. It is salty. Tangy. And you are sweet.

It sends him right over.

His lower back tightens, and then he’s grinding forward, flooding your pussy with his release. Kyle feels it dripping out and around him.

The kisses slow. Becoming soft.

Your fingers lightly brush against his cheek.

Kyle leans in for one more kiss, but a groan comes from somewhere behind him. You glance over his shoulder, the middle of your brow furrowing.

Without taking your eyes off the man, you reach for the gun.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Stalker AU)

It’s gorgeously easy. You’re oblivious. A perfect victim.

Ghost will ensnare you in his trap and reel you in until you can’t untwine yourself from him. You will become him. You will have no identity. No want or desire that isn’t dipped with his own.

The shadows are his friend. Ghost sticks to the dark, lingering near corners, observing from afar.

You are so oblivious. So adorable.

Breaking you will be sweet. Delicious.

You live on the outskirts of the city. The house isn’t much on the outside. It is the interior where you’ve curated a space just for yourself. You’ve done an excellent job fixing it up.

At least, Ghost thinks so. He’s been inside a few times. Pressed your clothes against his balaclava just to inhale your scent. Sometimes he’d just walk around, picking things up only to place them elsewhere for you to find. It always makes you uneasy when you come home and everything feels a bit off.

It isn’t the only thing Ghost has done while alone in your home. There are gifts he’s left behind. Cameras, actually. He’s been watching you for months now. Learning your habits. Memorizing your routes and schedules.

Tonight is the end of your work week. There are two full days where you won’t be missed. Ghost plan on taking full advantage of every minutes.

Each step leads him closer. Pulls him nearer.

When you enter your home, he waits a full five minutes before approaching from the back, heading for the patio door. In his pocket is a copy of your house key. He retrieves it, sliding it into the lock.

It clicks as he slowly turns it, and the door gives way without it’s usual screech of resistance. He fixed it when he entered your home to tap your cell phone.

Ghost softly shuts the door behind him, crouching slightly as he observers the space around him. All the lights are off except for a small lamp in the living room. From his vantage point in the kitchen, Ghost can hardly see it. The light only reaches so far, and he is still in shadow.

You are not in the kitchen, and as he stalks into the living room, you are not there either. The little office you have on this floor is also empty. The second floor is his best bet. That will make it easier, too. The only way for you to run from him is down the stairs or to leap from a window. The drop isn’t far but he can’t see you risking yourself like that.

As Ghost turns the corner to ascend the staircase, he comes to an abrupt stop.

Next to the front door is the coat closet. It stands open, all the items inside pushed off to either end, revealing a wall.

But not a wall. No.

It’s another door.

This one stands open, and from it comes an artificial, almost white-blue light.

Frowning, Ghost approaches, pausing to glance back into the rest of the house. You are not there. And you don’t linger at the stop of the stairs.

It is still dark. Still absent of you.

Ghost takes a step inside.

Another. Then, another.

The darkness around him gives way to the light. And it is artificial.

At first, Ghost doesn’t understand. Not completely. It’s just a room. A room with no other doors. No windows. On the opposite side—the far side—are computer monitors. The wall is full of them, nearly floor to ceiling. There’s a small desk in front of them and a folding chair.

The light comes from above.

“I know you’re watching me.”

Ghost spins, finding you in the opening of the doorway.

“I’ve been watching you, too.”

You hold something in your hand. It is black and square. Your thumb brushes over it, and then more light floods the room, coming from behind him. Ghost turns just enough to glance over his shoulder.

The monitors are on. And each one shows something of his.

Every room of his flat. The interior of his car. His place of work. Ghost’s favorite pub. Even the corner store he shops at.

“I didn’t have enough time to prepare a room. But I will! I promise!”

You sound so sweet—so earnest, as if you mean every word.

Ghost turns fully toward you. His muscles clench, and then he’s walking, aiming for you and the doorway.

You jump back, and then the door is closing in his face.

You are too quick, and Ghost’s hands slam against solid metal.

“Sorry!” you say, voice muffled. “I’ll let you out soon. But only if you’re good!”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction

@weasleytwins-41 @saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey

@mudisgranapat @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza

@nishim @voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel

@haven-1307 @itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@blackhawkfanatic @sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@kadeeesworld @umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm

@arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @gingergirl06 @greeniegreengreen

[therandompagesblog]

SKS Mate: Chapter 1

Warnings: Angst, Misogyny, Anxiety, Trauma

Chris was told many moons ago that he and his pack would be mated to an omega. A single omega. Chris had heard all the stories about female omegas and how important they were to a pack. How an omega would care for and fulfil the needs of the other werewolves. How an omega would bear the Head Alpha's children. Chris even read the stories and the old lore of Omegas being incredibly submissive and virtuous. They were the purest wolves up until the revolt against alphas and betas. Chris, of course, had an old-fashioned stereotype of how omegas should be which filled his expectations. He imagined his omega would be an innocent, submissive omega. A sweet-scented omega who he could ruin and make feral. He imagined his omega sitting on his lap purring away as he sorted out his files. He would even imagine his omega soothing his pack members when they were angry and frustrated. Chris has had all of these expectations for years, and he yearned to find her. He even sent Changbin and Jisung to search certain areas of werewolf lands to find his omega but they always came back with nothing. There were times Chris started to doubt what he had heard and that he would never be gifted a mate so he should settle for finding any old omega, but he just couldn't.

The minute Chris gave up on finding his mate was the day she crossed his land. Her strong bloodied and burnt woodsy amber scent engulfed the noses of the two betas who were scouting the area. The two males had not expected an omegas scent to knock them back for six. It confused the two of them, that they both impulsively went to find out who they was. What they didn't know until they were 5 meters away from her was that she was their mate. It was only when they got close enough to get that one of them skidded on all fours in confusion. The beta's wolf chanting mate, mate repeatedly sent the young beta into panic, causing him to alert their head alpha. The two males continued to follow the bloodied brunette omega through the forest. The younger one of the two tried to call out for her trying to show her they were not a threat, but she didn't seem to hear them. The closer the two got they saw her battered and bruised body, scattered in werewolf bite marks. It was clear to the two of them that their alpha's omega had been abused by another werewolf pack. They needed to tread carefully with her.

When they eventually reached her they both crouched down in front of her, trying to release calming waves that didn't seem to reach her. The two men looked at each other worriedly before paying attention to her fragile frightened face. They could barely see her features as he dark brown hair covered her red puffy face. "Hey, it's okay." The older one whispered out, slowly stalking towards her but she growled and bolted to their left. The two wolves huffed in frustration. They were so close to getting her. If they let her go their alpha was going to rein all of their necks in and send them down to the Alpha of Torture and no one would willingly want that. The two of them decided to run either side of her to see if they close in on her. They knew they would have to catch her forcefully as she wasn't going to back down. In the end, the older one managed to close the gap between them and pounce on her, forcing her to the ground. The younger female growled, scratching and whining at the attacker in fear. Again, the male tried to send waves of calmness towards her but she wasn't responding. He wondered if it was due to all those bite marks up her body that rejected his gift. "Shhh. It's okay. You're safe." The older male whispered repeatedly as the younger female wolf cried. Luckily for him, she eventually gave up but the male wolf still didn't trust her from running so he kept her pinned down until their pack Alpha arrived.

When Chris heard Jisung's howl he dropped everything that he was doing and ran out of the house. It was only when Chris reached the small bridge that a wave of emotions hit him. Mate. Mate. Omega is here. Omega is here. Every negative emotion Chris felt about not having an omega disappeared from his body in return replacing him with anxiety and excitement. Chris shook his head and jogged over to where Jisung and Changbin's scent was. "Chan. Is it really her? Is she ours?" Changbin whispered in fear that he was wrong and had just assaulted another werewolf pack's mate. The main alpha, Chris, looked down at her small form under Changbin and growled protectively. He didn't like the way his pack member had her pinned underneath him. It riled him and his wolf up. Changbin seemed to realise and slowly got off of her to let his alpha get a good look at her. Chris studied her pale mudied body and glared down at her tainted abused skin. They were covered in different male bite marks, symbolising her impurity and struggles. Chris felt his blood run cold as he looked at his mate with slight disappointment. Everything he dreamed of was crushed in an instant. Everything he wished for, the opposite came true. "Chan Hyung?" Jisung called out, causing the alpha to snap his head up. Chris looked at the two males before crouching down towards his mate, edging slowly towards her.

The closer he got the more the younger female growled out at him. Chris could smell the acidy stench of fear that was radiating off of her. Chris could see the way she was hiding herself she was petrified. "Omega." He whispered out. He slowly reached towards her head to brush away her matted hair from her face. "Omega, you're okay," Chris whispered out as he tried to urge the scared wolf to lift her head. He wanted to see her. "She's so scared," Jisung whined out as he held his hands out in front of himself. "What have they done to her hyung? Our poor omega." "I know Jisung." Chris breathed out sadly as he plopped to the floor. "We need to get her back to the house. She's not safe out here." The female wolf slowly peered her head around the male wolf's forearm to look at the head alpha, causing the males to freeze. Her eyes were a cold grey stone colour. They held so many emotions in them, but also none at all. Her eyes on Chris were mesmerising, he had never seen eyes the colour of ash. "Omega." Chris breathed out, causing her to growl, so he changed his approach. "My name is Chan. I'm the leader-" "I. Know. Who. You. Are." The female wolf growled out. Her voice was laced with anger. "I won't hurt you. My pack won't either. I would never allow it." Chris whispered, before looking at Changbin to get off of her.

Changbin slowly sat up and crossed his legs with a soft smile on his face as he watched her eye them. She was staring at each of them. Taking them in. The younger one, Jisung, was still standing behind the two males with his arms by his side awkwardly. Y/N studied his puffy round angelic face. He seemed absolutely bamboozled about the scene unfolding in front of him. Y/N then glanced over to her attacker, Changbin who gave her a grin, causing her to growl. Y/N then looked over to their head alpha. Christopher Chahn Bahng. The alpha who raided seven werewolf packs in one year to find an omega. The alpha who murdered his younger brother to become alpha. Everyone knew who he was. "Omega," Chris whispered gently, but she growled at him, her eyes turning a bright blueish colour. If this were anyone else they would be forced to submit. Chris' patience was wearing thin and he was trying to be patient but this poor omega wasn't budging. "What's your name?" Jisung asked, trying a different approach. He wondered if she didn't like to be called 'omega'. "What will you do to me?" Y/N breathed out. "Check your wounds. Keep you safe. Feed you. Love you." Jisung answered honestly as he looked towards Chris who nodded thankfully at the beta who was trying to ease the situation. "Jisung is right. My pack will care for you. I will protect you, always. I will not hurt you. You are my mate-" "No, I'm not." Y/N interrupted Chris. "I've heard that before. I can't be yours if I'm theirs."

Chris frowned at her words. Who told her she belonged to them? He couldn't believe his ears. "You are. You may not believe me right now, but you are. My pack and I have waited for you for so long." Chris stated. Almost pleading with her. "Please let me take you back with me. Let me have my beta, Felix, check over your wounds." Y/N looked back at the other two betas and made a decision. She had to go with them. She was an alone omega in a world that would kill and trade for one. She may not be safer with Straykids but it was better than them. "No one touches me," Y/N growled out, glaring at the head alpha who was staring at her with a frustrated expression. "Only I and Felix. To check your wounds." Chris clenched his teeth in frustration at his own words, but he had to find a way to get you to trust him. To trust them. He might be ruthless but he wasn't forceful in that way, but he could be if pushed that way.

[thoughtsonkm]

Goodbye, for now

BABY? HONEY? BOYFRIEND SHOT? Jikook you're too much!

This episode was truly the best way to end the show, maybe even the best episode of the series. (Neck in neck with episode 2 of course) The way they enjoyed it so much but were also so sad it was over. The hot tension all around, the soft boyfriends mood who can't stop flirting and name calling each other with the most low-key couple-like sweet names. They could not stop laughing, they could not stop touching and they couldn't stop being hilarious without even trying.

~

SK Spotify daily chart end of November 2023 :

Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jimin

~

It would be such a full circle moment if Jimin posted the boyfriend photo (which won't happen). Would almost be like a soft launch of some sort.

Not the underwear too?? Gosh I love my little gay freaks!! (didn't understand why Jimin would quote their 'yet another inner joke meme' right at that moment but I've learned to not question their inner workings)

~

Sorry but i have to be pretty one last time and say that I kinda had enough of seeing so much from the crew around or even in Jikook's shots and angles. It breaks the fourth wall a little too much and ruins the whole bubble idea. Ok I'm done lol

~

Returning to the issue at hand, the "seeing the beds for the first time" scene keeps getting funnier and funnier. As if they don't already have designated sides of the bed 😏

~

Ah the never ending bickering gives me life. Peep the half korean half english talk when they playfully get on each others nerves 👀😂

I better not speak on the scuzzi jacuzzi shenanigans cause otherwise.. Let's just say the photo speaks for itself..

NO YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA SPEAK. We all know that jacuzzi time is always intimate, relaxing and personal for people that's why I wish Jikook had enjoyed it fully without cameras. Yes I'm pissed on their behalf, that they had to film the whole thing with 382929 different angles. lol

His face is literally saying "oh so you're really gonna make me do it huh? if I was in your place I would've folded immediately and would've never let you go through with it!!" 😂

~

No one ever:

Jikook every 2sec : HONEY OH HONEY

(I was actually listening to the song while writing this and idk why it's so funny to me even tho it's a sad love ballad)

~

They must've loved getting the chance to at least see one episode of the show, plus the idea of watching it together..

Jungkook being so entertained by it meanwhile Jimin being mortified about half of the things that happened. HILARIOUS

HAHAHHAHAHA all parties were concerned if they'd be able to pull it off, I can't

BEST BELIEVE they're always gonna find a way to touch. Consciously or unconsciously.

~

This show made me realize that my favourite thing ever is Jk making food for Jimin, then making him hysterically laugh and therefore getting to hear Jimin's adorable giggles.

~

"Hello it is I the one and only, the only one who can touch Jimin's head ble ble ble ble" - JK

Jk was like: How can you imagine Jimin without me in your dream? Are you crazy? What is this delusional dream world you live in Jin hyung??

~

Tbh it's so meaningful and a huge thing saying that these trips were literally the best trips of your life. I think the statement almost went over people's heads.

I can't get enough of Jimin looking pretty and cuddly and Jungkook's immediate thought being: I HAVE TO FILM YOU

Them saying they can do a reboot when they come back gave me some hope that maybe just maybe this is not the end of AYS 😭

The ending bonus clip left me fulfilled but also sad and with goosebumps all over.

Thank you Jimin & Jungkook for letting us peek into this trip and getting to witness some of your precious moments.

Signing off, J&J 🥹

Ps. So I'm guessing the 52 minute video that comes with the photobook is probably the 3 bts videos combined that they've been reviewing for 48392 months right?

[meazalykov]

Salma or Selma?

Salma Paralluelo x BarcaPlayer!R x Selma Bacha

Warnings: angst, anger/sadness, cheating, betrayal, author making up future champions league results for the plot so please don't bully me if things go differently irl, long chapter

The last few months were a whirlwind of emotions for Y/n L/n. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, an unsettling sensation that gnawed at her insides like a persistent itch. Despite the facade she tried to maintain, there were moments when doubt crept in, casting a shadow over her once happy and carefree personality. 

Y/n found herself second-guessing every word that came out of Salma Paralluelo’s mouth. A year ago, Salma and Y/n started dating. This boosted the joy in the 20 year old’s life.

She found warmth in Salma's touch and a kindness in her gaze that made her feel cherished and adored. She thought highly of Salma, being there for her when she won the World Cup, despite her own country being eliminated in the Round of 16. 

On the field, outside of their relationship, they’re a duo in Barcelona that couldn't be stopped by the opposition defenders. Y/n is a left winger while Salma was mainly positioned as a striker. The amount of goals and assists they’ve given each other boosted their playing confidence more. 

Overtime, the colors in the sky turned cloudy.

When Salma wasn’t with Y/n outside of football, the Spanish girl was with the goalkeeper on their team, Cata. This didn’t concern Y/n at first, the girl had trust in Salma and building bonds with teammates is important. Salma knew Cata before she knew Y/n anyways. 

Eventually, small things started to creep up onto Y/n’s mind. Salma and Cata had small inside jokes together. The duo were affectionate, which Y/n didn’t mind at first because that behavior isn’t uncommon in Spain.

Y/n suspicions were confirmed once she noticed Salma starting to ditch her to hang out with Cata, almost everyday. 

Salma promised that she is helping Cata with a recent breakup. Y/n wanted to press further but didn’t. The girl knew that other close friends on the team, Esmee or Ingrid for example, would tell her if they suspected something with Salma and Cata too. 

Though she desperately tried to dismiss her suspicions as paranoia, the nagging feeling persisted, festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to scab and heal. With each passing day, as Salma continued to ditch their plans, Y/n's unease grew. And little did she know, the tempest of betrayal that awaited her would challenge everything she thought she knew about love and trust.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Y/n yelled as she turned into a hallway at Johan Cruyff stadium. She walked with Esmee Brugts, happy about their win against SK Brann. Now, she stood as her heart sank into her stomach, shattered in a million pieces. 

Cata had her arms around Salma as the girl kissed down her neck, stopping once she heard the scream of her actual girlfriend. Salma jumped away, pushing Cata before looking right at Y/n, not knowing what to say at first. 

“So this is w-why you we-were ditching me?” Y/n’s voice broke.

The left winger started to panic. For a second, it felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The suspicions she had were real and weren't just a story she made up. Esmee noticed her panic, she gently pulled Y/n’s arm and turned her away from the cheater and the goalkeeper before things got worse. 

“Y/n wait-” 

“Not now.” The Dutch cut Salma off, looking at her with sadness and slight disappointment, before pulling Y/n away from what occurred. Esmee couldn’t believe what her friend was capable of too. 

The team didn’t find out what had happened. Y/n, Esmee, Salma, and Cata only knew. A week later, Salma showed up to Y/n’s apartment. She begged for another chance and mentioned that she cut Cata off. Y/n didn’t respond to her pleas for a couple of hours while Salma begged in her apartment.  

Eventually, Y/n took Salma back. With a heavy heart and a tentative embrace, Y/n chose to believe in the possibility of redemption. She missed Salma’s presence and allowed herself to be enveloped in the warmth of Salma's embrace once more.

The American international didn’t let the Spanish girl come back without promises though. She told Salma that she couldn’t talk to Cata outside of football, not mention what happened to anyone except for who already knew (Esmee and Cata obviously), and not to ditch her again. Salma smiled and agreed. 

For a month, things between the two looked the same from an outsider's perspective. They would’ve said that Y/n and Salma looked extremely happy with each other. Y/n scored 4 goals against Chelsea in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Finals. Salma had the brightest smile as she hugged her girlfriend. 

However, the scars of betrayal ran deep. Y/n never let the betrayal between Salma and Cata go. When Cata tried to congratulate her on her goal, Y/n just walked by her, saying “Thanks.” No hug or high five. 

Sometimes, she wonders if they’re still interested in each other. Y/n hopes she's not in the way of any possible feelings between the Spanish girls. 

Barcelona and Chelsea still have to compete in the second leg of the Semi-Final, but Y/n believed that Lyon and Barcelona will go head-to-head in the Champions League Final. Lyon is facing PSG in the Semi-Final but they've won the first leg 4-1.

Y/n is excited about a possible Champions League final, last year she won the final against Wolfsburg because of her goal that pushed Barcelona up 3-2 in the second half. 

A day after she got back from London, Y/n went out to celebrate with a few friends who came to Spain, from America, to visit her. Salma didn’t come with her to meet her friends because she wanted to go to a gym session instead, which Y/n believed. 

(Pretend this is you in these pictures below) 

y/n.l/n

tagged: urbestie

liked by selma_bacha, malpugh, and 44,927 others

americans in espana 🇪🇸🌞

comments

salmaparalluelo 😍😍

malpugh you're so cute

wososoccer478 she hasn't posted with salma in nearly 8 months 🥴

leahlover8 I noticed that! They're still together in fcbfemeni training pictures so they're okay I believe

aitanabonmati ☺️

esmeebrugts no invite? 😧🇳🇱

y/n.l/n next time Es I promise!

wosotranfernews the best friendship ^

----

A few hours after she posted on Instagram, Y/n got home to her apartment and took off her sandals. She placed her sandals right by the door before walking to her living room and laying down on top of her comfortable ivory couch.

She pulled her phone out of her brown leather bag, clicking on the lock button to see no notifications from Salma. Y/n heart started to race but she ignored it when she saw the sole notification on the phone from Instagram. 

selma_bacha 

hey 

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she stared at the notification on the pink iphone. She knew the french player who currently played at Lyon. Even though she is confused, she is intrigued too. Why is Selma reaching out to her, and why now? Selma and Y/n followed each other three years ago but haven’t talked until now. 

y/n.l/n 

hey. how are you?

The Barcelona player typed out a response, waiting for the response from the girl behind the screen. 

----

When y/n looked up at her phone, she noticed that it was twenty minutes past midnight. She got home from dinner with friends around nine. The conversation she had with Selma lasted three hours. The American scrolled down on her phone to see if she had notifications from her girlfriend Salma. 

None. 

The girl decided to give Salma the benefit of the doubt, despite her past cheating. Y/n continued to text the French girl for a few minutes before they’ve both decided to call it a night. 

selma_bacha 

goodnight 

y/n.l/n 

goodnight 

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as a message from Selma illuminated her phone screen. The simple message might be nothing to others but to Y/n, it held a power within them. It had been so long since Salma had taken the time to bid her goodnight or good morning, even though they’ve been together for 14 months. The gesture from Selma touched Y/n in a way she couldn't quite explain. 

The American took a shower, changed into her night clothes, and laid in her bedroom in the quiet darkness, her thoughts drifting back to her conversation with the Lyon player. Talking to her felt so easy. Sometime in the conversion, their typed messages turned into audio messages and their shared laughter after their jokes made y/n happy in the absence of her girlfriend. At that moment, Y/n knew that she needed to talk to Selma more. She had so much in common with the Lyon player and their sense of humor aligned. 

-----

A month has gone by and Y/n was right, Lyon and Barcelona would be facing in the Champions League final. She felt a wave of excited emotions, knowing that this will be her second final with the team.

In the second leg against Chelsea, Y/n scored a hat trick and Caroline Graham Hansen scored the fourth goal. The game ended in a 4-2 win. The WSL team was sent home and Y/n felt bad as one of her USWNT teammates played for twenty minutes against her.

Salma and Y/n started to drift apart and the team started to question it. Aitana asked Y/n one day if things were okay, Y/n lied and said yes.

The Spanish girlfriend started to ditch her American girlfriend again. However, things were different this time. Y/n felt her heart go elsewhere as Salma abandoned her.

Over the month, Y/n engaged in everyday conversations with the Left-Back at Lyon. Selma and her had a few FaceTime calls and they're compatible in many ways.

Y/n started to question everything. She wanted to distance from Salma so she can figure out her feelings, but they're on the same team. At training, Salma found herself close with y/n so avoidance wasn't ideal. The American knew that she will see Selma in the Champions League final so she couldn't avoid her too.

In the quiet solitude of her plant and pink covered room, with the gentle hum of the Barcelona town outside her window, Y/n looked through her camera roll. She scrolled through her "Lover girl" album, which contained pictures of Salma and her together. Y/n felt her heart sink as she stopped at the last picture, clicking on the date to see that she didn't update the album since the night she caught Salma cheating on her with Cata.

Clicking off of the album, she went through her other folders to see many screenshots from her FaceTime calls with Selma Bacha. Y/n blushed as she saw Selma doing silly things on the calls, like (jokingly) getting angry over their Fifa games or making silly frowning faces .

Y/n's heart ached with the weight of indecision, torn between the familiar comfort of Salma and the extreme chemistry with Selma. Each possessed qualities that spoke to different parts of her soul, Salma with her history and shared memories, and Selma with her vibrant energy, admiration, and newfound connection.

As she wrestled with her thoughts, Y/n knew that the choice she made would shape the course of her future, a decision not just about love, but about her career and the kind of person she wanted to be.

Y/n exploded her bottled emotions onto her friend, Lindsey, from back home. Yes, Lindsey Horan from her International team that played for Lyon. The same Lindsey that knew Selma just as much as she knew Y/n.

"You know what they say. If there's two people in your life, pick the second one. Since there would've never been a second choice if you loved the first one enough." Lindsey said over the FaceTime. Yn laughed at how "corny" the saying is.

"I love Salma, Lindsey. However, I can't go on with this if I can't trust her." Y/n frowned.

"You shouldn't go on with her either if you want Selma involved with your future too. It sounds like Salma might leave you for Cata soon. No offense, I just need you to hear the truth before it happens..." Lindsey added on. Y/n took a deep breath, processing the blondes valid points.

"How do you know if Selma likes me?"

"Oh she likes you a lot. She's mentioned it to the team multiple times. Selma is just waiting on you to let Salma go." Lindsey confessed.

"I can't just break up with Salma. She'll move on to Cata and it'll break up the team's dynamics. It happened with a love triangle here before." Y/n explained, referring to the love triangle between Lucy Keira and Ona.

"Lyon is interested in you. Everyone involved in the transfer markets knows they want to activate your release clause. They just need your approval-- and maybe you can come here for a new start." Lindsey suggested. Y/n nodded at the possibility. She could leave Barcelona, leaving Cata and Salma to be together and she could be closer to Selma. Plus, Lyon is a big club like Barcelona so it's a good career move.

----

The tension hung heavy in the air as Barcelona squared off against Lyon in the electrifying Champions League final. The crowd's roars echoing like thunder in Y/n's ears as she stepped onto the field, her heart pounding in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the game.

At the first sight of Selma Bacha, y/n felt nervous. Nobody knew how she felt about her except for Lindsey, who is one of Lyon's midfielders currently. The Barcelona left winger took Lindsey’s suggestion into consideration and she has a few plans for her career after this final. 

During halftime, the game is 2-2. Caroline Graham Hansen scored a brace so far along with Becho having a brace for Lyon. The atmosphere is intense as there is another fourty-five minutes left. For Y/n, amidst the chaos of her thoughts, there lingered a deeper, more insidious feeling: guilt. 

She knew that she was breaking up with Salma after the season ended. Y/n never confronted Salma about seeing her talking to Cata secretly again before the match. The left-winger knows she is in the way of the two Spanish girls who want to be together. In consideration of her love for Salma, she decided that she will break up with her after the season ends rather than now. 

The girl wouldn't have to worry about the pre-season and the next season afterwards in Barcelona. Y/n talked with her agent and Lyon agreed to activate her release clause and will offer her a contract on the first day the transfer window opens in the summer. 

As the minutes ticked away and the score remained deadlocked, the pressure mounted, threatening to suffocate Y/n beneath its weight. Yes, she is facing her future club, but she is with Barcelona for now and wants to win with them for one last time. She had an energy driving her to push herself harder, to fight with every fiber of her being. When Salma scored a stunning goal in the 67th minute, by Y/n’s assist bringing the score up 3-2, the crowd exploded. 

Salma runs to the corner and celebrates with her usual “4 fingers'' symbol. Afterwards, she turns around and immediately holds her hands out to hug Y/n. The American sighed before smiling lightly, hugging her girlfriend tightly and pulled her face down on Salma’s shoulder. The news media and their shippers talk about this on social media, believing that they aren't broken up like rumors suspected. 

The girl inhaled Salma’s vanilla scent before looking into Salma’s eyes, pulling away before letting the rest of the team hug her. She frowned as she walked away, knowing that it might be the last time she will hug her soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. 

Y/n walks away towards the left side to see Selma, on the Lyon side, looking at her. The French player smirked before looking away, making the American girl blush. 

Selma had a feeling that Y/n will join her in Lyon after this season. The girl gave too many hints on their late night facetimes calls about “being able to see each other all of the time soon.” She knew Salma and Y/n were done, due to suspected cheating from the Spanish, so she didn’t feel badly about her flirtatious moves. 

Just when victory seemed within Barcelona’s grasp, fate intervened with a cruel twist of irony. Just two minutes after Salma’s goal for Barcelona, Lyon’s forward Diani passes the ball through the Barcelona box and Horan taps the ball into the net, right past Cata’s hands. 

The French crowd explodes as Horan runs to the corner of the box, yelling as she pumps her fist into the air in celebration. Y/n looks on at her USWNT captain, who looked so happy to score her goal with the Division 1 Feminine team. 

In the 85th minute, Ingrid Engen dribbled the ball up the field before seeing Aitana who was free to receive a pass. The ball goes up over the players before Aitana jumps up and hits it with her head. The ball flies up again before landing on Esmee’s boot. The Dutch “nutmegs” the ball through a Lyon defender before passing to Y/n. The American dribbles quickly through Selma Bacha before shooting the ball. As the ball goes through Endler’s legs, Y/n screams in excitement. Goal!

Barcelona 4-3

In the dying moments of the game, Selma's team managed to break through Barcelona’s defense, scoring a last-minute goal from Le Sommer that left Y/n reeling in disbelief. As the 90 minutes appeared on the watches on the referees wrists, 6 minutes of extra time were added to the board. 

4-4

Y/n looks over at her coach Jona, seeing that he wants the team to play defensively. A few minutes pass but it’s anyone's game. Y/n couldn’t break through the Lyon midfield when she had the ball a few times. 

She passes the ball down to Aitana, and the ballon d’or winner passes the ball down to Ingrid, who passes the ball back down to Cata who launches the ball across the field towards Claudia Pina.

Claudia and Selma both go up and try to head the ball towards a teammate. The Lyon player was successful and the ball landed on Horan’s boot. Y/n runs up to challenge the other American but Lindsey passes it to her striker before Y/n reaches her. 

Marta challenges Hegerburg who quickly dribbles around her. Ona goes to challenge the Lyon striker before pushing her inside of the penalty box, ruining the potential goal scoring opportunity. Almost all 22 players on the pitch ran to the ref, debating on the challenge as “just a foul” “tir de pénalité” “el desafío está fuera de la caja” and much more. The referee contacts the VAR room with their mini microphone before blowing the whistle. Lyon Penalty.  

Hegerburg, not injured by Ona’s contact, goes to take the penalty. Y/n felt her lungs close in as the crowd erupts in screams and whistles. She knew there was a minute left. If the Lyon striker makes the shot, Lyon wins the Champions League unless a miracle occurred. 

Y/n’s hands covered her face in disappointment as Hegerburg’s goal went behind the net. Cata moved to the left to block the shot when the hard shot went to the right. 

All of the Lyon players dressed in their Blue away jerseys ran to the corner and celebrated the penalty. The players on the bench even ran and screamed to celebrate the penalty. 

4-5

Not a single opportunity occurred for Barcelona before the final whistles blew. The scoreboard flashed 4-5 in favor of Selma's team. The Lyon players screamed as they all jumped on each other in joy. A wave of devastation washed over Y/n, the bitter taste of defeat staining her lips as she bit on them, trying not to cry in front of thousands of people. 

Yet, amidst the heartbreak and despair, there was a deeper wound that cut to the core of Y/n’s heart. At the moment, she stood alone on the pitch as other Barcelona players fell onto their knees in sadness, some clapped for their fans while having tears in their eyes, Ona ran away into the dressing room so she didn’t have to face the fans who were angry with her last minute mistake. 

At first, she thought about her girlfriend who is experiencing the loss too. She looked around to seek solace in Salma's embrace. She stood in the same spot with her hands on her hips as she continued to bite on her plump lips. 

What Y/n saw shattered her heart into a million pieces when she realized that Salma wasn’t looking for her. Instead, she watched in silent agony as Salma rushed to Cata's side. Cata sat on the grass and cried as Salma whispered affirmations in her ear. It looked so intimate. In that moment, as tears welled in Y/n's eyes and the weight of her loneliness, she knew that the scars of this defeat ran deeper than any she had ever known.

The American in the white away kit fell onto the grass and let all of her warm tears flow down her dimpled cheeks. She didn’t care who saw it and if pictures would be taken. Y/n’s suppressed feelings about her suspicions were confirmed. Salma chose Cata. In her worst moment, she wanted Cata’s comfort and not her own “girlfriend.” 

Y/n, in the back of her mind, knew that she was done with Salma. She couldn’t speak to her after this. She left her alone in the worst moment while she comforted the girl she committed infidelity with. 

The girl cried for a few minutes, feeling alone in this dark moment, before she felt the embrace of four arms around her body. She couldn’t see who it was, since she laid flat on the grass with her hands covering her face. 

“Y/n, You did amazing out there!” The American in the Barcelona jersey heard the voice of her USWNT captain, Lindsey. 

“No I didn’t” Y/n complained, ignoring her beautiful goal and two assists she made during the match.

“Y/n don’t speak about yourself like that. Shit you’re a good opponent!” Y/n froze and her tears seemed to stop flowing when she heard a familiar french accent. 

Y/n sat up from the grass, wiping her grass covered knees as Lindsey sat beside her. She turned and looked at Selma, this being their first interaction outside of the game, who wiped her tears with her thumbs. Selma patted Y/n’s puffy face afterwards before sitting right beside her, leaving no space. 

“I hope so.” Y/n replied a few seconds after Selma spoke last. 

“Congratulations guys.” Y/n continued as she looked back and forth between her friend and the girl who is more than a friend. 

“Thank you. You were kicking our ass for a good half.” Selma laughed, she wrapped her arm around Y/n’s lower back as the Barcelona player moved her head to Selma’s shoulder. Y/n laughed in response. 

“No literally. I can’t wait to see that when I play with you this summer.” Lindsey agreed. Y/n smiled in reminder of making it on the USWNT olympic roster with her. 

“You guys shouldn’t waste your time comforting me. Go celebrate!” Y/n laughed through her dry tears and pointed towards the Lyon teammates who were currently celebrating. She looked around to see Esmee, her best friend at Barcelona, being comforted by some of her Oranje teammates that played for Lyon which made her smile. Y/n knows she will miss her the most when she leaves.

“Who said we are wasting time? The celebration and trophy setup isn't ready for another ten minutes. We have time to be here for you— and we want to be here with you” Selma held Y/n tighter. 

Despite her own triumph, Selma's concern was solely for Y/n, offering a comforting embrace that felt similar to medicine curing a cold. In that moment, as Y/n leaned into Selma's embrace, she felt her heart soften, her realization being proven stronger with this moment. It was Selma who was there for her, Selma who offered solace and understanding, Selma who held the key to her heart for the last few months. The left-winger’s heart chooses Selma and will move to play for Lyon. 

The media picked up on Salma and Y/n going to comfort other people after the game, which caused their fans to explode in speculation. When pictures of Selma Bacha holding Y/n L/n came out in the media, Lyon and Barcelona fans were shocked before being supportive. When Salma and Cata hard-launched their relationship, fans were shocked too.

The girls never confirmed their breakup publicly, even though Y/n and Salma mutually broke up after the Champions League final. However, they both publicly moved onto their new girlfriends and Y/n moved away to play for the Lyon team, enjoying her new life with Selma Bacha.

an: hope you enjoyed! I'm sad that the barcelona men's team lost the quarter final of the champion's league 😣

[kanmom51]

JK's birthday 2019

Let's talk about JK's birthday in 2019.

I know it's a long time ago, but I got to thinking about it again and it just filled me with joy. And who am I to deprive you guys of some delusional joy as well? Right?

So, I think I am actually going to start from the end on this one.

JM flying half way across the world, from Paris...

to be with JK on his birthday only to have to fly out the next morning to Hawaii with Sungwoon.

And he does this all by surprising JK, who was not expecting him to be there with him, as he knew JM was in Paris, sly JM even sending him a kind of generic happy birthday message from Paris. You know, making sure JK KNOWS that he is still there on the streets of Paris all while JM was already on his way to be with him.

JM loved to tell us all about it in his Riad live (you know, the one he also told us how happy he was with the surprise birthday celebration JK arranged for him during their concert there, oh and the same one we got him eying his "manager").

There is a link to the live itself in my post as well.

And here you will find screenshots of JM telling the story:

He was so damn proud of himself.

And rightfully so.

He made JK's day.

Brought him this very special gift too:

Yeah, let's hear how this wasn't planned why don't we?

Anyways...

Moving on.

Or perhaps moving back would be the proper way of putting it.

All of this happened on JK's birthday itself at night time (JM tells us he arrived back in SK 8-9 pm). But see, JK started off his birthday for us.

Wait. Was it for us? Or more so, was it only for us? Or was it perhaps also meant for that one person that wasn't there on that day. The one person that was in Paris, and whom JK believed was not going to be spending his birthday with him. The one person that flew half way across the world to surprise JK, and he sure did.

I know at this point I could be considered to be reaching a little bit, but hear me out here. Yes, JK was sending Army a message (well a few of them as you will see), but I do think that within those messages (this is something that those two are so good at), he was also sending another message, and it wasn't just for us. Although you could argue that in a sense it was also for us (letting us know who was on his mind at that point in time).

So here we go.

JK posts on Weverse on the eve of his birthday. This is just after midnight, specifically at 00:22 or 12:22 am KST.

This one is clearly for Army (not the one who declares himself to be Army).

Following that, JK moves on to Twitter, where he tweets twice exactly 40 minutes later. 2 tweets, one minute apart from each other.

First tweet at 1:03 am SKT:

Let's look at the numbers first before we move on to bigger and better things.

1:03 am 1.9

Just looking at those numbers we can get:

13-10 (1+9)

If we look at the date as 1.9.19 then we have the 13-10 and 1-9 as well. Go figure.

On purpose?

Who knows... maybe if we look into it a little further we will have more facts that can show us either way.

The caption on JK's first tweet.

Could definitley be meant, once again, for us. Even though he already thanks us for making him happy. But what if this time it wasn't meant specifically for us. I mean, he already thanked us in a long message only 40 minutes earlier. What if the earlier one was for us, and this one here, with the timing of the posting, was meant for a special someone else, who happened to be far away from him.

Perhaps his choice to split his posts, his thanks, was because they were meant for 2 different recipients? Perhaps, this was just like him splitting up his White day live in 2023 into 4 segments. Each one of those segments with a clear purpose and you could also say a specific audience (at least for one of those 4 the intended audience was not us).

Yeah, I know, call me deluded. Call me crazy and call me whatever, but you know, I really don't think it's that far fetched.

And even more so when within a minute he tweets again. This time he uploads his gift - a snippet of his song Decalcomania.

Captioned: "This... Please look forward to it".

{Side note, we still are even though we will never get the full song seeing that he had deleted it.}

Are you seeing what I'm seeing here?

Like seriously, how can we miss this? And nope, you can't make up this shit either.

Time stamp on clip:

1: 18 min.

The song is clearly cut off at that time stamp.

This is not a coincidence. Seriously, enough is enough with that excuse. The recurring use of these numbers. 118, Nov 8, again and again and again. Before and after.

This is a clear message JK is sending again

and again

and again

and again

And lest forget a couple of his latest 8:11's

and

And here we have JK, on his birthday, following his tweet only one minute earlier thanking "you" for making him happy. Who he means by "you", well that I'm sure many will assume is his fans. At this point, seeing what came before and definitely what came after, I am easily convinced that it wasn't necessarily that "you", but the "you" that was about to surprise the shit out of him later that day.

So yeah, I'm finding it hard to conclude this is all a coincidence, seeing JM himself told us it's not...

As for Decalcomania. Well, that one requires a post all of it's own.

One more thing before I go.

JK's 2019 birthday was a big one. It happened when the band were on break. When JM was using this time to travel with friends (not that they didn't spend time together, JK basically tells us that in BV4). A time with a couple of yucky dating rumors. A time of self reflection. This was a break where JK had his hand tattoos done, and surprisingly (NOT) added that very 'inconspicuous' J just above the M after his birthday.

So yeah, this here my friends, is a hill, or even more so a mountain, that I am climbing up and are pretty confidently willing to die on...

[gravitywonagain]

Inquiring Minds

holy shit, i finished a thing. well, a draft of a thing, but still counts!

based on this post about wwx being just dead enough be susceptible to the compulsion of inquiry

--

It was, in retrospect, the stupidest possible way to be found out. Wei Wuxian will readily admit that. Unfortunately, the level of stupidity was not a determining factor for the level of reality — as was the case for so much of Wei Wuxian’s life.

It all happened because one of the two dozen Jin disciples who bothered to show up to the war got a little drunk and a lot prideful and ended up starting a fight he couldn’t finish. Or, that was the going theory, anyway. The Jin leadership — such as it was — wanted an investigation done. As if they had nothing better to do. As if there weren’t reasons to be conserving spiritual power and not wasting it playing Inquiry for a guy who had decided to pick a fight — hopefully, hopefully it was a fight — with a Nie disciple who, granted, did not have the startling musculature of some of her shixiongs, but was still a fucking Nie disciple! 

This guy was not worth their time. This guy was not worth Lan Zhan’s time. Or his attention, or his spiritual power, or the stress it would put on his guqin strings— okay, maybe Wei Wuxian should have taken a moment to purge some of his resentment before walking into the tent. 

But he didn’t. This is important. 

Because then Lan Zhan began to play. 

And there was this strange… tugging sensation in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s gut, right where his golden core was supposed to be, pulling him toward Lan Zhan, or toward the empty space in front of Lan Zhan. 

Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have ignored it. He gets that now. He does. But he always wanted to be near Lan Zhan, and his body had been doing all kinds of weird shit since he’d had his core cut out, and who was to say this wasn’t just another weird side effect. 

Well. It was. A weird side effect. After a fashion. 

But that’s not the point! 

He should have noticed then. He should have left then. But he didn’t. 

The melody changed and the tugging sensation stopped. Which was great! 

Until something else started. It felt like a kind of drunkenness, light and hazy in his head, loose around his tongue. Three or four bowls in. 

He shook himself to dislodge it, but the motion only drew a sharp glare from Jiang Cheng. 

The tent was full of spectators. At least two representatives from each major clan were present, plus several “close friends” of the victim -- like four of the fifteen total Jin disciples -- who probably just wanted something else to do outside of eat, sleep, and fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t blame them, exactly, war was remarkably boring most of the time, but it was getting awfully stuffy in there. 

Lan Zhan changed the melody again, something almost lexical about it. Wei Wuxian could almost hear the question being asked, even before Zewu Jun’s voice chimed in, translating for anyone who didn’t know the qin language — which was pretty much everyone else in the tent besides the Twin Jades — “What is your name?” 

Wei Wuxian caught his own response between his lips, pressing them together tightly, as the guqin sounded three distinct notes which Zewu Jun reported as Jin Zixin. 

So, good. It was the right guy. That was great. Nothing weird at all. 

He should have left then. He didn’t. 

Lan Zhan played again, and again Wei Wuxian thought he understood the phrase, the question, even before Zewu Jun said for the tent, “How did you die?”

Wei Wuxian felt the answer fly to the tip of his tongue and bit his teeth around it, through it. His cheek bled with the force of keeping quiet. 

It was weird. So weird. But maybe, Wei Wuxian justified to himself, maybe it was just an effect of holding a secret inside for so long and having someone actually ask the question out loud. Maybe, it was just the same automatic reaction of answering with your name when someone asked for it. Maybe he was just too fucking tired, and the resentment under his skin just wanted something to laugh at, something to entertain itself with. Like the five of ten Jins standing in the back of the tent. War was boring, okay?

The notes from Lan Zhan’s guqin hung in the air, resonant and waiting. The moment seemed to stretch out too long. It dragged and Wei Wuxian gradually felt the words stop fighting him to escape. 

But the Jin ghost didn’t answer either. 

When Lan Zhan played the same phrase over — “How did you die?” echoed on Zewu Jun’s tongue — the compulsion was much stronger. This time it was like Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Zhan’s spiritual power pouring through him; the strongest of wines, several jars of it. 

He couldn’t fight it. 

His mouth opened. 

I fell. I fell. I fell. 

“I fell.”

All eyes in the tent turned to him. 

Jiang Cheng’s elbow caught him in the ribs. He didn’t even bother to glare. He said, “Not you, Idiot.” 

The qin sounded and everybody looked back to Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun, waiting to hear the Jin disciple’s answer. 

Zewu Jun hesitated for the barest of moments, stuttering into the start of his translation before finding the confidence of his voice once more, recounting whatever it was that the ghost had strummed out. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear a word he said. He was, instead, pierced on two sides. 

On one: Jiang Cheng muttered to himself, “Wait,” and then his eyes went wide as he looked back at Wei Wuxian. 

On the other: Lan Zhan’s fingers froze above the strings of his guqin and he turned to stare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian with something like horrified understanding dawning within his gaze. 

Wei Wuxian finally realized he should fucking leave. Immediately. 

He wanted to run. He knew better. Knew what that would look like. 

Instead, he was going to simply walk out of this tent as he had walked out of so many already during this campaign. Gravel crunched under his heel as he turned. 

But his brother knew him too well. Jiang Cheng’s hand clamped tight around Wei Wuxian’s bicep, his grip unyielding. With his golden core, Wei Wuxian might have been able to break it. But the real bitch of it was that it was his golden core that was holding him in place. 

Jiang Cheng tensed as if readying for a fight, but Wei Wuxian already knew how that fight would end. So he let himself be restrained. 

He turned back to face the Inquiry. 

Lan Zhan was still staring at him when Zewu Jun finished speaking. He was still so stuck in place that his brother had to prompt him into finishing the ritual. Which he did, with all the grace and skill expected of him. He really was just so beautiful to watch. 

All the while, Wei Wuxian listened to the music and bit through his tongue to keep it silent. The questions continued to drag at him -- “Do you know who killed you?” Wen Chao. “Do you have any last requests?” To leave this fucking tent. -- though the pressure to answer eased significantly as the Jin ghost became less stubborn about it. Wei Wuxian settled for reciting the answers to them in his head until they no longer felt pressed against the thin seam of his mouth. 

It took approximately sixteen-hundred years. 

All seven Jin disciples supporting the war effort left the tent after the ghost had recounted his final moments. The attempted sexual assault was not unexpected, judging by their faces, but still disappointing to hear about. Clearly not the entertainment they were hoping for. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, they were apparently too wrapped up in their Jin nonsense to realize new entertainment was fidgeting in the corner and trying not to sever the tip of his tongue completely. 

The Nie, represented by Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, left shortly after the ritual concluded. If Nie Mingjue had to tug his brother away, Wei Wuxian was too busy keeping his mouth shut to comment on it. 

And then there were just the four of them. Plus the corpse. But they were like six months into a war, so the corpse didn’t actually seem to bother any of them. It hadn’t even started to smell yet. It was still pretty intact, too, and now that it was verifiably a criminal, Wei Wuxian wondered idly if the Jin would let him use it in their next battle. Probably not. 

His idle wondering ceased abruptly as his brother’s fingers bit deeper into the meat of his arm. 

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, all of his surely filial worry for his gege boiling over into a spitting, incandescent fury. He never had to say he loved his brother, Wei Wuxian could always tell. It was the teeth gnashing that gave him away. “What the fuck do you mean you fell?” 

Right. 

Wei Wuxian played it as cool as he could with a definitely-not-bleeding tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jiang Cheng.” He shrugged, but his arm didn’t move very far. 

“You answered Inquiry,” said Lan Zhan. Succinct as ever. 

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, maybe a little too loud, but not at all childishly. 

Zewu Jun narrowed his eyes and pulled out his xiao. Wei Wuxian tried not to flinch about it, he did. But Zewu Jun only played a short, non-Inquiry melody, and a shimmering, blue barrier manifested around the interior of the tent. 

“No,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time at a totally normal volume. “I was just… messing around. You know how I do that, Lan Zhan. Always a rule breaker.” He grinned, desperately trying to play it all off. Realizing faster and faster how very badly this was going for him. 

Lan Zhan surprised him, then, saying, “Not when it matters.” 

“What?”

“Wei Ying doesn’t break rules when they matter.” 

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the fuck that was coming from. But he couldn’t say he hated it. 

Except that he did, because it was going to be a problem for this whole I’m just a silly rascal defense he was setting up. 

Jiang Cheng still hadn’t let go of his arm. His fingernails were starting to split the fabric of his sleeve. And worse, his eyebrows were scrunched together in the way they do when he’s thinking through all the angles of a problem. 

Zewu Jun still had his xiao in hand, and he was looking at Wei Wuxian like he was deciding whether to perform an exorcism or an execution. 

But Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan hadn’t moved from his seat on the mat. He had turned his body so that he was facing Wei Wuxian, giving him his full attention, and was looking up at him with… pain in his eyes. Shining, wet pain. 

“You died?” he asked. “Are you dead?”

“I don’t…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. 

He didn’t know. Which was, possibly, not the best sign. 

“I can’t be dead,” he said, looking over at Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng, then back to Lan Zhan. “Can I?”

Zewu Jun, still wary, said, “You responded to the compulsion in Inquiry. Inquiry is a song that speaks to and compels answers from the dead. It does not generally work on the living.” 

“Well--” Wei Wuxian started, defensive and scared. But again, he didn’t really know where to go with that. 

“Where were you, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asked him. “Why didn’t you meet me at the bottom of the hill?” 

Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun shared a look. They didn’t seem to know what Jiang Cheng was talking about. But Wei Wuxian really, really, didn’t want to get into that whole mess. If anyone was going to see right through him and his flimsy tale about suddenly remembering the location of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, it would be Lan Zhan. Actually, Zewu Jun would probably figure it out, too. And then maybe even Jiang Cheng. Now that he wasn’t all broken and desperate and gullible. 

Fuck. With the way Jiang Cheng was looking at Wei Wuxian, the way his hand released some of the pressure around his arm, he might already have. 

Wei Wuxian laughed, hoping it came off more smoothly than it felt in his chest. “Ah, Jiang Cheng.” He brought his own hand up to lay over his brother’s. “What if I told you--”

“No,” Jiang Cheng cut him off. “No more bullshit. Where were you?”

The mirth, false as it was, drained out of Wei Wuxian as he saw the pain building behind his brother’s eyes. 

There was movement in his periphery and then Lan Zhan was standing on his other side. His fingers wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s other arm with a much gentler grip than Jiang Cheng’s. Something imploring about the touch. Like he was seeking confirmation to a theory, or maybe proving to himself that Wei Wuxian was actually there. 

“I…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. 

Zewu Jun’s gaze was hard as steel, but aimed, it seemed, at Lan Zhan’s hand, rather than at Wei Wuxian in general. 

“There was a rumor,” he said in slow, even words, “that Wen Chao had thrown you into the Burial Mounds.” He waited a moment after he finished speaking, as if trying to reconcile the words himself, before he looked up to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes. 

Of course, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to meet Zewu Jun’s eyes. He didn’t want to meet any of their eyes. He wanted very much to be out of this tent and away from knowing gazes altogether. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite figured out how to teleport using resentful energy yet. So in the tent he remained. 

He looked down at his feet. His boots were crusted with dirt and blood and other bodily fluids. War really was super gross, in addition to being largely boring. 

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, still looking down. “Everyone knows that nothing leaves the Burial Mounds.” 

Lan Zhan’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s arm. Jiang Cheng’s loosened, but didn’t let go. 

“Yeah,” said Jiang Cheng, like an accusation, “it would be impossible.” 

Wei Wuxian still didn’t look up from his feet which meant that he missed whatever silent conversation happened between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan that had both of them tightening their grips on his arms just before fingers were pressed to the pulse points of his wrists. He struggled, flailing as much as he could, but against Lan Zhan’s golden core and his own, he stood no chance. He could barely budge them. 

He screamed but the sound only reverberated inside the tent. 

The only thing he could think to do was to call up the dead. The dead man still lying in front of them. The Jin. Rapist. Criminal. He could use that wicked corpse to fight off the people holding him down, taking his secrets. Smoke curled out of his sleeves and he--

He stopped himself. 

It was over anyway. 

Even if they couldn’t read his spiritual energy, or lack thereof, his fighting them was confirmation enough. 

He went limp in their grasp. His knees buckled. 

It really was the stupidest possible way to be found out. 

“Where is it?” asked Jiang Cheng. But it was clear from his voice that he already knew the answer. 

Lan Zhan was silent. 

Zewu Jun looked to his brother for an answer, not understanding what they had just discovered. 

“His golden core,” said Lan Zhan. “It’s gone.” 

“Wen Zhuliu?” Zewu Jun asked. 

But Jiang Cheng made a sound that was somehow both a laugh and a sob. 

Wei Wuxian regained control of his arms. He sprawled himself out on the tent floor, exhausted from his struggle. He laughed, too. “After a fashion.” 

Jiang Cheng fell to the ground next to him, hands cradling the place where Wei Wuxian’s core now spun. “What the fuck?” he said, quietly, to no one in particular. Then, loudly, to Wei Wuxian in particular, “What the fuck!” 

His cheeks were wet. Jiang Cheng’s, his own. He looked over to confirm, and yeah, Lan Zhan’s too. Zewu Jun had nothing to cry over, except maybe confusion, but he was too cool for that, so he just stood in the middle of the tent, shocked, presumably, as his brother, another sect leader, and a demonic cultivator broke down around him. 

Wei Wuxian stared up at the tented canvas ceiling and cursed himself for not leaving the tent when he first noticed something wrong. 

“Jiang Cheng,” he started, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a wet yell. 

“Why would you do that, you fucking idiot?! What the fuck were you even thinking?! How did you-- How--” 

He seemed to lose steam trying to figure out what happened on “Baoshen Sanren’s mountain” and potentially also why Baoshen Sanren’s voice sounded so familiar. 

Zewu Jun’s voice was remarkably calm for a man witnessing-- whatever he made of what he was currently witnessing. He said, “Wei Wuxian, I believe your Sect Leader would like to know how you lost your golden core.” 

Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Because yes and no. 

“No, Zewu Jun,” he said, still laughing. He tried to stop, but it was just too funny. “No,” he said again, slightly more sober, “he wants to know why and how he now has my golden core.” 

He didn’t really mean to say it. He felt drunk again, like he did when Lan Zhan was playing Inquiry. Ready to spill all his secrets at only the slightest provocation. Zewu Jun could probably ask him just about anything right now -- Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng too, for that matter -- and he would answer it. It wasn’t exactly a safe mindset to be in. But he couldn’t really do anything about that now. 

At least there was some kind of privacy barrier over the tent. 

Zewu Jun stood. Speechless. 

Lan Zhan’s tears fell silently. 

Jiang Cheng glared, hands clutched tight against his lower dantian -- whether to hold something inside or to tear it out, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure. 

Wei Wuxian felt light as a feather. Drunk and dizzy with it. A weight had been lifted, he supposed, but one he was never supposed to let go. His laughter died down to the occasional press of his lungs. Tears collected in his eyelashes until everything was blurry. 

Emptiness yawned inside him, but it was gentler somehow. As if the secret itself had been clawing away at his slowly healing wounds. 

“Fuck,” he said with a hiccup of a laugh. And again, quieter, “Fuck.”

He really should have left the fucking tent. 

Also, wait. Was he dead?! 

--

(7/18/24: now on ao3)

[therandomartmaker]

(In Case I Don’t See You) Good Afternoon, Good Evening and Goodnight.

DPxDC

After a reveal, things go strange for Danny. At first, he thinks it’s just the lingering effects of having his vigilante identity out in the open. Sam and Tucker tell him he’s being paranoid, and Jazz doesn’t talk much with him because she’d left for college. She only listens to his words and talks him through the feelings, a steady presence.

It’s then that he realises that his ghosts had been showing up… regularly. Not erratic and randomly, they were almost scheduled; he’d checked once, and they had always shown up when the time was even. He’d said this to Sam and Tucker, Tucker looked concerned but Sam brushed him off. “They’d have to coordinate for that, Danny,” she said, “Do you really think Skulker wouldn’t take every chance possible to fight you?”

His ghosts were getting more agitated. It wasn’t hard to defeat them, they were just. Angrier. They also went down easier, but got back up faster. They also were disjointed in their banter, and it got worse as time went by, fights quieter and more… emotion filled.

It’s only when Danny spots several white vans nearby his fights that he realised he’d forgotten about the GIW.

Danny rushed home, to the portal- he’s unlucky, or perhaps rather fortunate, that he stumbles upon the GIW in his home, talking to his parents. It’s an easy decision to turn invisible.

“Keeping Patient Zero in the Truman cage is working well, but it might be catching on. Unscheduled fights give us more subjects, so you’ll be lent Subject-E and Subject-SK in two days, in the private laboratory, as they are currently useless in field and hinder the process.”

Patient Zero? Subject-E and Subject-SK? Useless? What process?

Truman Cage? …Danny knew that movie. Watched it with Jazz a few years before, because Jazz had a project on it, wanted to do inquiry on unethical ‘imprisonment’ and isolation.

Static buzzed through the air, and Danny heard the GIW agent pick up an ecto-proof walkie talkie. “Report, Patient Zero has been missing for two minutes, unknown whereabouts, may be heading or already at FW Household.”

Danny swore mentally, flying away to the roof of the Nasty Burger, still invisible.

Shit. What were they doing- what kind of shit had they already done?

…What could Danny do to stop it?

—

Batman stared at the report in his hands. Phase One of the Ghost Investigation Ward’s plan was going well, to capture and learn everything they can about ectoplasmic beings and a ‘villainous creature’ that has taken control of a small town in Illinois. Supposedly, the ‘creature’ was a volatile destructive being that repeatedly put the town through constant attacks.

Everything about it smelt fishy, and he’d found about the ‘GIW’ was flimsy, and a strangely large amount of money was being siphoned into it. The Fenton research being used was also something that shouldn’t’ve been published, biased and clearly contradictory in areas.

The information blockout was just asking for investigation.

sorry that this isn’t more for the story! I may write more for this, but idm this being used as a prompt post either! If you respond to this in a separate post, please tag me, i like to see what y’all make, don’t just link this post and run y’all. Also, i’m like 80% sure someone’s made this already or at least done something similar, so if someone could find and link that, that’d be awesome

On a side note; some notes for this specific thing, but freedom is encouraged and this is mainly for myself because ik i’ll forget about this.

The GIW learnt danny’s id before the reveal and figured out very quickly that they wouldn’t be able to do anything to him because he’s legally human and he hasn’t had biological testing to make sure he isn’t human. They got ghost confirmation via the fenton parents after the public reveal, but had already informed the fentons of the possibility of danny being a ghost and proposed the ‘Truman Plan’ to them.

The plan was to set up another ghost portal with coordinates set to the same area the fenton’s portal lets out and recapture whichever ghosts danny lets go there, and this works exponentially well. They gain a bunch of speech capable ghosts to experiment on, and decide quickly that they’d start ways to put them under control and make them stronger, in order to, eventually, capture danny.

Phase Two is weakening Danny and looking into his skillset and how to counteract it.

Phase Three is actually capturing Danny.

Danny figures out that the GIW has agents everywhere, bugs everywhere and nowhere is safe. The only people he is absolutely certain he can trust to not make the GIW aware he knows he’s entrapped is Jazz, Sam, And Tucker, but since the last tw oare in the bounds of the GIW, he can only talk to Jazz to plan (he flies up up up and calls because tucker had them up on a private network so the only risk was being overheard, really)

B only discovered the GIW while passing over recent government records, and sets up one of his disguises to visit the town, eventually.

He ‘just so happens’ to be bowled over by Danny Fenton one afternoon and sets up a white noise generator to tell the boy the JL was on his side. After all, something wasn’t right, here.

[stormblessed95]

Okay so I’m on my fourth watch of the travel show

It gets better the more you watch, they are just so much fun

They have me smiling from ear to ear the whole way through

I know there is a lot of conversation about the car conversation but seriously, apart from Jungkooks beautiful ‘finally’ (and I’m glad that is in English so we hear it without mistranslation), what struck me upon this watch, is that he could actually mean them being in content together. 

Hear me out, but the kid spent the better part of the first half, and even to a degree still asking in the later half, of 2023 begging to go live with Jimin, inviting him over on lives. Including the bed begging live days after this filming, and now I’m framing it that he was probably thinking they have filmed this show, why can’t they have a live? I know that the show wasn’t going to be aired straight away but I can totally see him going with that thought. 

But it just struck me, he’d been asking and probably denied so many times, whereas Jimin had gone live with Yoongi and Hobi etc during work promotions, but denied JK. This was his olive branch, his two birds one stone, a trip for them to spend time together when free, but also for them to be alone in content (albeit airing a year later atp). If we remember too that they could not leave SK without work and a permit, the chicken and egg, hence the show. Jimin had the time at that point to plan it with the company, it makes sense he pushed it, though I’m sure Jungkook was involved too. 

People are moaning about Jungkooks attitude and they are so wrong and miserable, not to mention they misunderstand him. They guy is glowing with his Jimin, he’s being cheeky and kids around and it’s so beautiful to see it. To see their dynamic, as they are. 

Seeing them say they hasn’t planned another trip in NY, and the Forbes article said this too, they must have thought it a success enough to plan jeju and so on. I think a post from another blogger here also helped frame this for me, bc at the end of the day they talked about and proposed the show, just the two of them, to the company and needed a deliverable product. This involved planning to a degree, scouting locations and a vague idea of activities. They definitely had more freedom than Bv, and they had to rely on their natural chemistry, which is there in spades, but they still had to deliver/ this is where Jimins panic comes in when he is sick, bc he has to power through to make the show work, hence the are you sure? It’s so logical when I think about it all in that framed way. 

And mainly I think this also because they do not present as people who had had a falling out, or massive distance, or had issues, or something more ridiculous people are proposing. I mean logically do we really think Jimin (sensible Jimin) would even think it a good idea to do this if there was bad blood or feelings. Exactly, he would not.  There was no tension there, not that I saw anyway. They just vibe with each other. They present as pretty domestic, in tune and loveable goofballs. 

Also when you think about MS application being a month after this, they had to have seen and spoken to each other, it’s a complete reach to think they didn’t. Also, it’s their habit, Jimin literally said the same sentence in the very brief restaurant scene, that JK says to him in the doc and we know that was a complete fib. Also I feel the way JK looks at the camera in that scene and in the hand holding scene is very telling about how he felt around the cameras at first, especially when Jimin touches his throat, like he hesitated. 

I also hold in mind that at the end of the day we got about 5/10% of their time on screen, the rest is on the cutting room floor, and also probably not even filmed (esp given Jimins condition). Leaving them plenty of time for them. 

Just my thoughts. 

.

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: Got another Carl Grimes imagine! But imagine Carl is teaching you how to roller skate this time.

Might be typos..

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Reader

——————🧟‍♀️——————

“Wait, wait!” I exclaimed, clutching onto Carls arm, so much so that I probably almost drew blood. “Don’t let me go!”

Whilst Carl and I were having a bit of a stroll down a road near Alexandria, Carl had stumbled upon a suitcase with roller skates in it. I was never good at using them, I did make progress with them, but I would most of the time end up with my behind, meeting the ground.

“I won’t.” He said, trying to hold me still, while balancing himself in the process. “Stay still!” I exclaim, and gives me that one look.

“I can’t stay still, if you’re holding onto me trying to stay still!” He says with a laugh, but it was caught in his throat, when we were about to fall over.

“Woah!” We exclaimed, clinging onto each other for dear life. “Okay, okay. Let’s prop you up against a tree.” I nod, as he slowly brings me over to one, and I quickly wrap my arms around it.

“You’re a visual learner, right?” He asked, seemingly tired, and I nod my head. “Maybe I could show you, and you can copy me?”

Yeah, they doesn’t seem to hard, he’ll show me how to pick up speed and stop, if I got to fast and need to stop before I hurt myself.

“Alright, now they you know the basics, I need you to try and do what I did, m’kay?”

I nod, “Yeah, I got that, but you didn’t show me one thing.”

Carl furrows his brows in confusion, racking his brain for what he could have possibly not shown me already. “What’s that?”

“How to let go of a tree, without falling while on roller skates.” I said, with a lopsided grin, trying to let go on my own, but fails and immediately grabs back onto the tree.

“Alright, I’m coming.” He takes his skates off, and puts his shoes back on, now with the intent on teaching me who to skate. He walks over to me, about to reach for my hand, but remembering what happened not to long ago, and instead tried wrapping his arms around my waist, and brought me to the road.

“Is this to help me, or did you just want a hug?” I teased, and he rolled his eye.

“It’s to help you.” He replied, holding me steady.

“Aw, my knight in shining armor, here to rescue me in this dire need of learning to travel, with wheeled booties, otherwise known as roller skates.” I said, really trying to keep from laughing.

“You done yet?”

“Not until you show me, where your noble steed is.” I replied, and he sighed loudly, going back to teaching me to skate.

“I’m going to let go of you now. Try and do what I showed you.” He said, slowly backing up, and I start to wobble. “I’m not going far, just within arms length.” I nod, and try and keep my legs steady.

I move one leg back and one in front and alternate between the two, to get used to the motion. “Good, now try and push yourself forward, with your back leg.” I do, but almost fall, due to me pushing myself a little two much.

I reset myself and then push again, with less force this time. Then I do it with my other leg and continued alternate.

“You’re getting good at this.” He said, and I smiled proudly at him, and make my way back over to him slowly, but surely.

“I do have one hell of a good teacher. Have you ever thought of being a teacher before?” He shrugged, unsure.

“It’s probably crossed my mind before, but that’s probably it.”

“Well, if the zombie apocalypse ever ends, that’s what you should major in. Teaching.”

“Okay, well how am I going to pay for it?”

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?” I said, not even noticing that I had been skating on my own, as we talked.

“Look at me go!” I exclaimed, and slowly began to speed up.

“Careful, you’re still new to skating.” He said and I stopped moving and turned to him.

“How about… first one home gets the candy bar?”

“It’s my candy bar!”

“Well, now I’m racing you for it.” I said, getting into position.

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“Ready…” I started and he rolled his eyes, picking up his skates and got into position.

“Set… Look a walker!” I exclaimed and he actually fell for it. And I quickly skated away to Alexandria.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” He exclaimed trying to catch up with me, whilst still on foot.