#it's starting to shift this season which is great but it's not perfect

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

the rookie let women make mistakes challenge

[kentsjohnson91]

𝐈'𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔ˡʰ⁴³

in which y/n and luke hate each other’s guts. sometimes, they kiss.

warnings; ohio state - michigan rivalry, luke’s a dick, kissing, situationship

It was no secret that you and Luke Hughes hated each other. 

It started in college. Luke had everything going for him at Michigan. From the moment he arrived, he was the face of the Wolverines - a Hughes brother, destined for greatness. He was the golden boy of college hockey, a standout player known for consistently putting up impressive stats. It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

A year later, as Luke was about to enter his sophomore season, you arrived at Ohio State. The attention placed on him ended as quickly as it started.You were a dynamic force whose talent and tenacity on the ice made you a formidable rival to Michigan’s golden boy. While Luke was a talented defenseman, you were a just as talented offensive player known for your agility and sharp instincts. This earned you a reputation as a top contender in the world of ice hockey.

Luke could deal with that. However, one crucial play defined the entirety of your guys’ rivalry from there on out. Ohio State vs. Michigan, tied 2-2 in overtime. Joe Dunlap had passed you the puck from your defensive zone, and you had noticed that Luke had left a crucial area of the ice uncovered, just enough for you to slip by him. As he fought his hardest to catch up with you, you made one simple deke, sending the puck past Erik Portillo and sealing the victory for your Buckeyes.

From then on, he had hated your guts. And he had made it known, sending unwarranted glares your way and always checking you extra hard in games. Naturally, your hatred for him grew as well. The rivalry between you and Luke was palpable, and it reverberated through every game you guys played. Fans, coaches, and teammates alike could feel the electricity in the air when Ohio State and Michigan faced off (and it was more than just the bitter rivalry between schools), a charged atmosphere that heightened with every fiery clash between the two of you. Your intense exchanges on the ice were more than just competitive – they were personal, with every check and goal underscored by the underlying animosity between you two. Off the ice, the tension was equally evident. You would be sure to let your teammates know your distaste for him, and he would do the same.

There was no fixing it, until Luke was called up by New Jersey. There would be no more playing against you for the next few seasons.

Or so he thought.

To everyone’s surprise, you had forewent your remaining eligibility at Ohio State. The Rangers had drafted you in the first round, and wanted you in the show immediately.

The day after, the first headline came out: Golden Boy vs. Golden Girl.

In fact, the first meeting since the two of you had last faced each other on the ice started just a few hours ago. The game was reaching its climax, with both the Devils and the Rangers locked in to win in front of the crowd at Madison Square Garden. 

Luke was in his element, skating with the fluidity and precision that everyone always attributed to him. You were equally as determined, matching his intensity shift for shift. The tension between the two of you had reached a boiling point, and it seemed as if every move made was a direct counter to one another.

As the puck dropped near the Devils’ zone, you sped down the ice, looking to make a play that could turn the game in New York’s favor. You were focused, your eyes locked on the puck as you maneuvered around defenders like you had played in the NHL for years. 

Luke, however, had a different idea. As you approached, he timed his move perfectly, sliding into your path with a calculated, unprovoked hit that sent you crashing hard into the boards. You lay there, struggling to get up, your face contorted in pain. Luke skated away with a smirk, his eyes flickering with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, “Sorry, L/N.”

Luke Hughes hated you. You hated Luke Hughes.

Which is why it was so weird that you now sat in the corner of the hotel lobby, your hood pulled low over your bruised eye, the anonymity of the crowd soothing your frayed nerves. The game had been brutal—physically and mentally. Every time Luke was on the ice, it felt like a battle you couldn’t win. Not because he was better—you’d never admit that—but because he always found a way to get under your skin.

Your heart pounded. You shouldn’t go. You guys shouldn’t keep doing this. No one knew—no one could know. But after every game, no matter how much you swore it would be the last time, you always found yourself answering his texts.

Luke didn’t look up when you slipped into his room, the door clicking softly behind you. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands like he was trying to figure out what to say before he said it.

You leaned against the door, your heartbeat still racing and your body still sore from the game. The silence stretched between you guys, heavy and charged, like it always did. Here, in the quiet, there were no crowds, no coaches yelling from the bench, no rivalry pushing you to be perfect. Just the two of you, trapped in a mess neither of you could quite untangle.

“You played dirty tonight,” you said softly, your words breaking the silence. There was no anger in your tone—just exhaustion.

Luke looked up at you then, his eyes tired but sharp, a faint smirk on his lips. “So did you.”

You let out a soft breath, moving from the door to stand in front of him, her arms crossing over your chest. “This needs to stop.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he sat back on his hands, studying you like he always did, as if searching for the truth behind your words. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t wrong. Every time you told yourself it was the last game, the last kiss, the last night you’d sneak into his hotel room, you found yourself right back here, standing on the edge of something neither of you could control.

“I do.” your voice was soft but shaky, betraying your resolve.

Luke stood, closing the small gap between your bodies in one step. His presence was overwhelming, the heat of him, the scent of his body wash. Everything about him felt like a challenge—on the ice, in the press, even here, in this room.

“You don’t hate me as much as you think you do, Y/N.” His voice was low, a whisper that made you shiver.

You hated how close he was, hated that he could read you so easily. “And you don’t care as little as you pretend to,” you shot back, your eyes locking with his.

That smirk faltered, just for a moment, before his jaw tightened. “Maybe not,” he admitted quietly.

There it was. The vulnerability he only ever showed when you were alone, when you weren’t in front of your teams or your fans, when you didn’t have to pretend. You hated that it made your chest ache, hated that you cared.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, like you were afraid saying it out loud would make it all too real.

Luke reached up, his fingers brushing a loose strand of your hair from your face, his touch soft in a way that made your heart twist. “Neither do I.”

And there it was. The truth that neither of you wanted to admit. That this—whatever it was—had become something neither of you could walk away from, no matter how much you told yourselves you should.

You felt yourself lean into him, just slightly, your body betraying your mind. “No one can know,” you murmured, your eyes closing as his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“No one will,” he whispered back, and then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t the rushed, heated kiss you’d shared so many times before. It was slow, deliberate, full of all the things you couldn’t say out loud. His hand stayed at the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your skin as if he was trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed him back just as softly, your hands gripping his shirt, not to pull him closer, but to keep yourself steady.

When the two of you finally broke apart, your foreheads pressed together, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt different now, heavier.

“You know this is going to blow up in our faces, right?” you said, your breath still uneven.

Luke closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I know.”

You sighed, stepping back, needing space but already feeling the pull to close it again. “We’re still enemies, Luke.”

“I know,” he said, his voice steady. But the way he looked at you, the way his gaze softened just for you, made it hard to believe it was that simple anymore.

You reached for the door, your heart still racing, knowing you’d come back. You always did.

And maybe, deep down, you both knew that was the real problem.

[reiding-writing]

I’d love to know how Spencer meeting cold!reader for the first time went! Like I’d imagine she wasn’t always as soft on him as she is now right?

GREETINGS & SALUTATIONS — SPENCER REID!

you meet spencer reid for the first time.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 0.9k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — this is super short but i wrote it to procrastinate an essay i have due in tomorrow 😭

The air is sharp with the tang of coffee and the subtle rustle of case files as you step into the BAU conference room for the first time.

You're no stranger to these environments—two years of working with the VCAC Program have hardened you to the sterile camaraderie and cautious smiles of seasoned agents. But this is a new team, a fresh start, even if you’re not entirely convinced you need it.

Agent Hotchner stands at the head of the table, his presence as steady and no-nonsense as you expected from your prior phone calls. “You’ve all been briefed on the newest addition to our team,” he says, his deep voice cutting through the quiet murmur of the room. “She’s joining us after transferring from VCAC. Her experience will be invaluable here.”

You nod briefly, scanning the room. There’s a mix of polite smiles and speculative looks, each agent sizing you up in their own way.

One face catches your attention—not because he smiles, but because he doesn’t. A young man with a mop of brown hair and wide, curious eyes hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, studies you like a puzzle he’s already halfway through solving.

He looks too young to be an FBI Agent. But you can’t say much about that yourself.

—

“Your desk will be over here,” Hotch says after the short introductions, gesturing for you to follow him out of the room. You’re led to a desk directly opposite the curious-eyed man, his desk cluttered with neatly stacked books and meticulously arranged pens.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” Hotch introduces. “He joined not long before you, so I trust you two will be able to aid in each other’s adapting to working here.”

“Hi—” Spencer blurts, standing too quickly and almost knocking over a coffee mug. He’s taller than you realised, looming slightly as he tries to straighten his tie. You’re grateful he doesn’t try to shake your hand.

You nod curtly. “Hello.”

It was like looking at a perfect opposite of yourself, both in the same situation, but so utterly different in the way you conducted yourselves.

Spencer's smile falters for a fraction of a second before he launches into what can only be described as a deluge of words.

“You know, it's really great to have multiple academic doctors on the team. Statistically, the BAU has a higher concentration of advanced degrees than most FBI units, but even then, it's rare to have two people with different PhDs working in tandem. It reminds me of this study I read about cooperative dynamics in small teams—“

You tune out the rest of his rambling, nodding occasionally out of thinly-veiled politeness while setting your bag on your desk and beginning to unpack. His voice is animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he dives into tangent after tangent.

“—and, of course, there's the entire field of developmental psychology, which is fascinating, especially when applied to criminal behaviour, though some people argue it's more of a soft science compared to neuroscience, but I disagree—“

You glance up, meeting his gaze with a neutral expression. “Sure.” Your tone is flat, your attention already shifting back to arranging your space.

Spencer stammers slightly, clearly searching for a way to salvage the conversation. If you could even call it that. “I-I mean, I guess you probably already know all that, given your background.”

“Yes, I do.” you reply simply, not offering him a lifeline.

There’s an awkward silence as Spencer shifts from one foot to the other. “Where did you complete your degree?”

You bite the urge to tell him you’re not interested in small talk. God knows you’re going to be sat across from him for who knows how long.

“Stanford.”

“Wow,” Spencer’s eyes widen just a tad, nodding. “That’s really impressive,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No—” He back tracks immediately. “Not like— I didn’t mean—” He takes in a sharp breath. “It’s a very good place for Psychology, and I’m sure learning there was a great opportunity for you— Stanford has been held to extremely high academic standards since it was founded, and so the workload has been known to overwhelm a lot of it’s students, especially PhD students, so you having graduated from there is a really impressive feat,”

“It’s a College. Who cares?”

“Right… Uh, well— Welcome to the team,” he says, retreating into the comfort of his desk chair at the dismissal in your tone. You definitely didn’t want to speak to him.

You don’t miss the way he glances at you periodically over the rest of the work day, as if trying to figure out the best way to approach you next time.

You don’t mind that as much. At least he’s not numbing your eardrums anymore.

[slut4msby]

flower shop girl. miya osamu x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread

+ a/n; i wrote this at 2am last night as the idea came to me as i tried to sleep so keep that in mind </3

“Just go give him some flowers Y/N it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way, just a nice neighbourly worker gesture!” Your coworker, Emi suggested.

“I’m pretty sure Osamu-san would take it the wrong way, Emi…” 

“But Osamu-san brings us onigiri all the time! So it’s not weird unless you make it weird, Y/N.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings towards Osamu have grown since you started working at the florist. It started with you going to get some lunch and wanting to try “Onigiri Miya” which was located across the road from your work. All your coworkers could only ever speak positively about Osamu’s onigiri. And after trying it you could not blame him. The onigiri was a masterpiece, it was a perfect triangular delight that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. The outer layer was crafted from expertly seasoned sticky rice. The rice was perfect, not too dry nor too mushy. When the nori seaweed wrapping peeled back a symphony of flavours unfold. It felt as if Osamu had crafted a masterpiece with something as simple as Onigiri. 

However, it wasn’t just the onigiri that stirred something within you; it was Osamu Miya himself. Osamu was fine. More than fine to be honest, he himself was like a Greek god. His physique from his volleyball days had slightly decreased since quitting and pursuing the store, but he was still in beautiful shape. The black Onigiri Miya shirt hugged his body just right. His hair was always slightly messy when he came over to the florists from the Onigiri Miya hat. Not only was he hot, he was funny. Everytime you would see him he would crack some jokes that never failed to put a smile on your face. Not only that despite his more dead-pan face, Osamu was great with his customers. He knew them like the back of his hands, he cared, was passionate and he was funny. God, the true triple threat.

“Plus if Osamu finds it cute, maybe your little crush will go further~.” Emi teased.

You gave her a nasty side-eye in return to her snarky comment. “Okay fine, I’ll bring some flowers to Osamu-san after my shift, if that will make you shut it.” Emi’s face lit up at the comment, “BUT. There is a catch. I get to tell Osamu-san it is a gift from the store for all the onigiri he gives us. Deal?”

“Fine, deal.”

“So… Emi… What flowers do I give Osamu-san?” You say awkwardly.

“Well I would recommend tulips - pink tulips in particular if you don’t want it to be romantic. They convey good wishes, yet non-romantic love and affection. Or maybe some daffodils! To celebrate new beginnings and goo-” Emi rambled.

“Y’know what Emi? I think I’ll just make a bouquet myself…” you mumble as you walk off.

You loved Emi but god she could get on your nerves. 

You begin taking your time putting together a bouquet for Osamu. Nothing romantic, but also beautiful enough to put the wrong idea in Osamu’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, just a nice gesture. Despite your admiration for Osamu, you barely knew the guy. He could have a girlfriend or even worse a wife. And you were no home-wrecker. You had finally decided on a bouquet with pinks and whites, with pink carnations, white roses and baby's breath flowers. It was simple, effective and didn't give Osamu the wrong idea, perfect.

“Emi-chan I’m clocking out now~” You call out to your coworker.

“Don’t forget your bouquet, Y/N-san! I’m sure Osamu is going to fall head over heels for you and you two will have like the cutest romance story ever! And I Can say I planned it ALL and I better be a bridesmaid and-” 

“Yup, okay Emi.” You say giving her a weak smile and a wave as you walk out.

You crossed the road and walked into Onigiri Miya, the bell jingling as the door opened. Osamu raised his head to greet the customer who entered.

“Welcome! Ho- Oh, it’s one of the flower shop girls. What can I do for ya?” He smiled.

“Oh Osamu-san! I have a gift for you from m- us over at the flower shop because your always so nice to us and bring us onigiri and stuff and we just wanted to say thank you and-” 

He cuts you off from your awkward mess of a speech, “Thanks flower shop girl.” He said walking over to you, grabbing the flowers from your hand. “And don’t ya worry yer pretty little head about it, sweetheart.” He examined the bouquet in front of him, looking at the array of flowers. “It’s beautiful…?”

“L/N Y/N.”

“It’s beautiful, L/N-san. What flowers did ya use?” Osamu asks out of curiosity. 

“Oh well I used white roses which you can obviously see, and some baby’s breath. The pink touch is some pink carnations, my personal favourite flower! They also express gratitude and stuff… so it’s cool I guess…”

“Well I am super grateful for the gift, L/N.” Osamu smiled.

“Oh uhm… You’re welcome! I have to get going now, Osamu-san!” You say waving as you speed walk to the door. Osamu just waves in confusion in response to your awkward actions.

“God Y/N, why are you so awkward?” You silently cuss yourself out as you walk away.

Days have passed since your very awkward flower delivery to Osamu. The interaction still haunts your mind like a bad dream, that’s what you wished it was. As you care for the flowers towards the back of the door, a familiar figure walks in. Osamu Miya. Just your luck, you gave him an awkward smile before continuing your work. Osamub slowly walks over to your coworker, Maki.

“How can I help you Miya-san?” Maki asks.

“Just wondering if you have any bouquets of pink carnations?” Osamu says, looking around the store, attempting to find some.

“Oh we just got some in before, they are a popular choice at the moment. Y/N sells them quite well, they are her favourite after all.” Maki smiles.

“Well Y/N has some good taste then, they are also a personal favourite of mine.” 

“Really! I would not expect that from you Miya! You give off like jasmine vibes.” Maki laughs.

“I only recently found out what carnations are, a very pretty girl said they were her favourite and they just remind me of ‘er.”

A red blush swipes over your face at Osamu’s comment. Were you , the pretty girl? Surely not. Carnations are a common favourite flower and Osamu must know lots of pretty girls, I mean just take a look at him.

Osamu continues his chat with Maki, checking out for his bouquet of flowers. “Thanks so much Miya-san!”

However, Osamu doesn’t leave the store, his steps bring him towards you. He holds the bouquet out towards you, “here flower shop girl. Heard ya like ‘em.”

“Oh really?” You sarcastically respond.

“Yeah, a friend told me.” He jokes back, “a friend also told me I should ask you out on a date, pretty girl. So whatdya say?”

“I’d love to, Osamu.” You smile shyly.

“Tomorrow night at 7pm. Are you free?”

“For you? I guess I could make some time…” 

©slut4msby.

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 2✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, language, cheating, Jensen being a dick

Word Count: 5182

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

It had been two months since that night in Paris, and although you hadn’t heard a word from Jensen, your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t forget how good he made you feel. The intensity of your time together lingered, an unshakeable memory that overshadowed even your time with Antony.

You hadn’t told Antony what had happened, afraid that it would ruin the fragile relationship you were building. You liked Antony a lot. He was kind, caring, and definitely boyfriend material. The sex was great, too—gentle, affectionate, and satisfying. But the night with Jensen was something else entirely. Jensen was something else entirely. He had ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t extinguish, no matter how hard you tried.

You found yourself repeatedly checking Jensen’s Instagram profile, eager to see something new, some hint of what he was up to. But in the past weeks, he had posted nothing but one picture of him and his wife, accompanied by a cheesy line that made your eyes roll. Hypocrite, you grumbled, tossing your phone aside in frustration.

“You said something?”, Antony’s voice broke through your thoughts as he emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair damp from the shower.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. “No, just thinking out loud”.

Antony walked over and sat beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your thigh. “You’ve been distracted lately”, he said gently, concern etched in his features. “Is everything okay?”.

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Yeah, just… work stress, I guess”, you lied, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “But we’re on break”, he mumbled, his confusion evident. “What work stress?”.

You quickly scrambled for an explanation, grasping for the nearest truth. “It’s about the script”, you said, which wasn’t a total lie. “Soldier Boy and my character are supposed to actually get together in the next season, which implies a lot of… disturbing sex scenes”.

Antony’s brow furrowed, his concern deepening. “Disturbing how?”.

You sighed, grateful for the slight shift in focus. “Just… intense stuff. The writers are really pushing boundaries, and it’s been hard to wrap my head around it. It’s not the easiest material to work with”.

Antony started to get dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Oh, come on, honey”, he said, his tone both comforting and dismissive. “Jensen never made a woman uncomfortable on set. He’s known to be the easiest guy to shoot scenes like that with”.

You felt a pang of guilt and annoyance at his words, but you forced a smile. “I know, Antony. It’s just… it’s not about him. It’s about the content and how intense it is”.

He shrugged, giving you a reassuring smile. “It’s ‘The Boys,’ Y/N. All the scenes are intense. You knew what you were getting into when you took the role. But you’re an amazing actress. You’ll get through it”.

You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing down on you even more. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for the pep talk”.

Antony finished getting dressed, smoothing down his shirt as he spoke. “Speaking of”, he mumbled, almost as if he was hesitant to bring it up, “Ackles is in town this weekend. He asked me to grab a drink, and… I thought… maybe this is the perfect start to make this official”. He pointed between the two of you, his eyes hopeful.

Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest. The idea of facing Jensen again, especially in such a setting, made your stomach churn. But you forced yourself to stay calm, to not let your inner turmoil show.

“Official?”, you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady. “You mean, you want to introduce me to Jensen as your girlfriend?”.

Antony nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, exactly. I think it’s time, don’t you?”.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah”, you said softly.

Antony beamed, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Great! I’m really excited about this”, he said, pulling back with a smile that only made your guilt heavier.

You forced a smile in return, nodding. “Yeah, me too”.

As the weekend approached, the anxiety within you grew. You tried to focus on your work, immersing yourself in the script and preparing for the upcoming scenes.

Finally, the night of the meet-up arrived. You spent extra time getting ready, hoping to project a calm confidence that you didn’t feel. Antony was his usual cheerful self.

As soon as you stepped into the bar, you spotted Jensen engrossed in his phone. Your heart rate quickened, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Antony, oblivious to your inner turmoil, led the way to the booth where Jensen sat.

When Jensen looked up and saw you, his eyebrows shot up in surprise for a brief moment before he quickly masked it. He stood up, greeting Antony with a friendly hug. Then he turned to you, his expression carefully neutral as he pulled you into a quick, tense hug. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the tension radiating off both of you.

“Wow”, Jensen said, stepping back and forcing a smile. “Never thought you’d show up with Y/N when you told me you were bringing your girlfriend”.

The three of you sat down, and Jensen’s gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, a subtle intensity in his eyes that made your heart race. “So, how long have you two been dating?”, he asked, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

Antony beamed, clearly excited to share. “About four months now”, he replied, his smile wide and genuine.

You saw Jensen quickly doing the math, a flicker of realization crossing his face. He knew instantly that you were already seeing Antony when the two of you were together in that hotel room. The knowledge seemed to settle over him, adding another layer of tension to the atmosphere.

“Four months, huh?”, Jensen said, his voice carefully controlled. “That’s great. You two seem really happy together”.

Antony nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, we are. It’s been amazing getting to know Y/N. She’s really special”.

Jensen’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, Y/N is pretty amazing”, he said, his tone dripping with a mixture of genuine admiration and something more intimate. “In fact, she’s amazing in so many ways”.

You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside you. You shot Jensen a warning look, but he simply raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly.

Antony, oblivious to the underlying tension, laughed. “I know, right? She’s one of a kind”.

Jensen nodded, his eyes still locked onto yours. “Absolutely. It’s rare to find someone who can be so… multifaceted”.

Antony, always the joker, took a sip of his drink and smirked. “You know, Jensen, I’ve been reading the upcoming scenes between Soldier Boy and Y/N’s character. You better keep your hands to yourself now”, he said, laughing.

Jensen’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes flickered with a hint of something darker. “Oh, I’ll behave”, he replied smoothly. “I’m a professional, after all”.

You forced a laugh, trying to ease the tension. “It’s just acting, Antony. Nothing to worry about”.

Antony chuckled, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. “I know, I know. I’m just messing around".

Jensen leaned forward slightly, his gaze still locked on you. “I promise, I’ll be the perfect gentleman”.

The rest of the evening continued in a similar vein, with Antony joking and chatting, while you and Jensen exchanged loaded glances, the tension between you thick and palpable.

Eventually, Antony suggested heading home. “It’s getting late”, he said, stifling a yawn. “Ready to go?”.

You nodded, eager to leave. “Yeah, let’s go”.

Back at your apartment, Antony kissed you goodnight. “I had a great time tonight”, he said, smiling. “Thanks for being so amazing”.

“You too”, you replied, forcing a smile. “Goodnight”.

With that, Antony left, heading to his own apartment since he had an early interview tomorrow and didn’t want to wake you up in the process of getting ready. He wasn’t even gone for ten minutes when there was a knock on the door.

You were already in your short silk pajama set, preparing to get some sleep. Thinking Antony might have forgotten something, you opened the door, a playful grin on your face.

“I thought you were too tired to get down and dirty”, you joked, expecting to see Antony. Instead, you were met with Jensen’s intense gaze.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I guess I’m not as tired as your boyfriend”, he countered, his voice dripping with innuendo. “Seems like I can still rise to the occasion”.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to maintain your composure. “What the fuck are you doing here, Jensen?”, you asked, your tone sharp with annoyance.

Jensen didn’t wait for an invitation; he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes roamed over you, a predatory gleam in his gaze that made your heart race. “I came to talk”, he said, his voice low and teasing. “Or maybe to remind you of a few things”.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Remind me of what, exactly?”.

He took a step closer, his smirk widening. “The fact that you let me fuck you when you were already seeing Antony”, he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “And then you have the audacity to judge me about my wife”.

Your eyes widened, a mixture of anger and guilt bubbling up inside you. “That’s different”, you snapped. “Antony and I weren’t serious back then”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, his smirk not faltering. “Is that what you tell yourself to feel better about it? Because, from what he said earlier, it sounds like for him you two had been pretty serious even back then”.

You felt a flush of shame and anger rise in you, your eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jensen. You don’t know what it was like”.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea”, he countered, stepping even closer until he was looming over you. His eyes darkened, and you could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Deep down, you’re just a hypocrite”, Jensen hissed, his voice low and filled with a barely contained rage. “You judge me about my wife, but you were already with Antony when you spread your legs for me. What does that say about you?”.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that”, you spat, stepping back but finding yourself pressed against the wall. “You don’t know anything about me”.

He laughed bitterly. “I know enough. I know you’re the kind of woman who can’t make up her mind. You want to have it all, don’t you? The stable boyfriend and the exciting affair”.

You felt your anger rise, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “You came to me, Jensen. I didn’t chase after you. You were the one who made the first move”.

He laughed bitterly again, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you didn’t want it. You didn’t seem to mind when you were moaning my name like there were no other words in your fucking vocabulary”.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure despite Jensen’s provocation. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, but you refused to let him get under your skin further.

“Wow, Jensen”, you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You seem to have an inflated sense of your own charm. I hate to break it to you, but not every moan is a declaration of undying love”.

Jensen’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the banter. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t deny that I left quite an impression”.

Rolling your eyes. “More like a stain that’s hard to get rid of”.

He chuckled. “Is that so? Tell me, then, why are you blushing?”.

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a glare. “Because you’re insufferable”.

Jensen chuckled again, shaking his head. “Admit it, Y/N. You fucking loved it”.

You scoffed, trying to brush off his comment. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jensen”.

He raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Too late for that, isn’t it?”.

Jensen stepped closer, towering over you, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes sparkled with mischief and something darker, making your pulse quicken.

“If I touched you now”, he whispered, his voice low and teasing, “would I find you fucking soaked?”.

You clenched your teeth, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at his words. “You’re delusional if you think you have that effect on me”, you shot back, trying to sound confident.

Jensen’s smirk only grew wider. “Delusional, huh?”. He moved even closer, his hand brushing lightly against your hip. “Care to prove me wrong?”.

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as a wave of heat pooled in your core. “You’re impossible”, you managed to say, your voice trembling.

He leaned in, his lips just inches from your ear. “And you’re avoiding the question”, he murmured. “What are you so afraid of, Y/N?”.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “I’m not afraid of anything”, you lied, knowing full well that the truth was the exact opposite.

Jensen’s hand slid down to your thigh, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Then let me”, he whispered, his voice seductive and commanding. “Let me see just how much you’re pretending”.

You hesitated, torn between anger and the undeniable pull you felt toward him. His fingers brushed the hem of your shorts, and your resolve wavered.

You were unable to move, unable to speak. Jensen’s presence was overwhelming, his touch intoxicating. The words you wanted to say died on your lips as his hand moved with agonizing slowness, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingers traced a delicate path along your skin, each touch sending shivers through your body.

“Jensen”, you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “Tell me to stop”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “and I will”.

But you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch, craving more. Instead of words, a soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers continued their journey, slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. The heat of his hand against your most sensitive skin made you shiver, your knees threatening to give way.

Jensen’s fingers moved slowly, savoring the moment as he explored your most intimate places. He traced the contours of your skin with a delicate touch, as if committing every detail to memory. His fingers dipped lower, gently parting your folds and sliding through the slickness he found there.

The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. Jensen’s touch was both gentle and commanding, his fingers tracing lazy circles around your clit, teasing and tantalizing. Your breath hitched, your body responding to his touch with a mind of its own.

“You’re so wet”, Jensen murmured, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. “I knew you would be”.

You shivered, a soft moan escaping your lips as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. He stroked lightly at first, drawing out your anticipation, before increasing the pressure just enough to make you gasp. The pleasure was immediate and overwhelming, your body responding to his touch with a mind of its own.

“Tell me how it feels”, he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want to hear you say it”.

“It feels…”, you struggled to find the words, your mind foggy with pleasure. “It feels so good”.

He smirked against your skin, his fingers never faltering. “That’s what I thought”.

His fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements, each stroke drawing out your pleasure, making you crave more. He circled your clit with a maddeningly gentle touch, sending sparks of pleasure through your body, making your hips buck involuntarily.

“You like that, don’t you?”, he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

Jensen’s whispered question hung in the air, his touch never ceasing as he continued to explore and provoke. You tried to muster your composure, to push back against his control, even as your body betrayed you with every involuntary twitch and moan.

“I hate you”, you managed to gasp out, the words more breath than voice, laced with a desperate attempt at defiance.

He chuckled lowly, the sound dark and alluring right next to your ear. “No, you don’t”, he murmured back, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers skillfully continued their dance, pressing just a bit more firmly, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Stop”, you whispered, half-hearted, your hands gripping his wrists not to pull away, but to keep him exactly where he was. “You shouldn’t be doing this…”.

Jensen’s other hand gently cradled the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soothingly at the base of your skull. “But you want me to”, he countered softly, his voice both a taunt and a promise as his fingers maintained their maddening pace.

Each stroke seemed to draw a line between pleasure and your fraying willpower. “You’re awful”, you accused, the words choked out amidst shudders as waves of warmth spread from the epicenter of his touch.

“And yet, here you are”, Jensen teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, a stark contrast to the boldness of his other hand. His touch became even more insistent, his pace quickening slightly, coaxing another moan from your lips, this one less about your verbal battle and more about the physical sensations overtaking you.

“You make it so hard to think”, you admitted, the fight draining out of you as pleasure built up, threatening to wash everything else away.

“That’s the point”, he whispered back, his lips grazing your ear. The simple admission was enough to unravel you further.

As the pleasure crested, your grip on his wrist tightened, your body tensing, ready to tip over into the abyss.

“Jensen”, you breathed out, your voice a mix of warning and plea.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, his movements both deliberate and attuned to every reaction of your body. “Let go, Y/N. Just let go”, he urged, his voice as compelling as the motions of his hand.

And then you did, your world narrowing down to the explosive sensations that his fingers wrought, cascading through you in waves of intense release. You cried out, a sound that mixed your frustration with your release, and for a moment, nothing else mattered—not the complications, not the consequences, just the overwhelming tide of pleasure that Jensen had promised and delivered.

As you slowly came back down, panting and spent, Jensen’s arms enveloped you more fully, holding you close in a gentle embrace that felt like a soothing balm after the storm. His hand stroked your back gently.

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. Your breath slowly steadied, the aftermath of your climax leaving a languid warmth in your limbs. As you nestled closer, you couldn’t help but notice the prominent bulge pressing against your thigh, evidence of Jensen’s arousal straining against his jeans.

You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. There was a raw intensity in his gaze, a mixture of satisfaction and unfulfilled desire. His control was slipping, the restraint he’d maintained fraying at the edges.

“You’re… hard”, you murmured, your voice still breathless from your recent release. It was a statement more than a question, an acknowledgment of the tension that still hummed between you.

Jensen’s lips quirked into a half-smile, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “I’d be worried if I wasn’t”, he replied, his voice low and rough. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns on your back, but his eyes never left yours.

You felt a surge of boldness, a desire to see him come undone as completely as he’d unraveled you. Slowly, you slid your hand down his chest, your fingers tracing the hard planes of his muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you hesitated, your eyes searching his for permission.

Jensen’s breath hitched, his grip on your back tightening slightly. “You don’t have to”, he said, though the hunger in his eyes told you how much he wanted it.

“I want to”, you whispered, your voice steady despite the thrumming of your pulse. Your fingers deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the sound of the zipper echoing in the charged silence of the room.

As you reached inside, you felt the heat of him, the hard length straining against the fabric of his boxers. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling his sharp intake of breath, the way his body tensed beneath your touch.

“Y/N”, he groaned, his voice a desperate rasp as you stroked him, your movements slow and deliberate. The control he’d held over you was slipping away, replaced by a vulnerability that only made your connection feel deeper, more intense.

With a determined look in your eyes, you tugged gently at the waistband of Jensen’s boxers, easing them down over his hips. As the fabric slipped away, his arousal sprang free, hard and ready. You took a moment to appreciate the sight, feeling a thrill of anticipation and satisfaction at seeing him so vulnerable and wanting.

Jensen’s breath hitched again, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands rested on your shoulders, his grip tightening slightly as you wrapped your hand around his length, your touch deliberate and teasing. You stroked him slowly, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, feeling the slickness there.

He groaned deeply, the sound resonating through his chest.

Slowly, you leaned forward, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The warmth and wetness of your mouth made him gasp, his hips bucking slightly in response.

You worked him with a deliberate rhythm, your movements slow and sensual, taking your time to explore and savor every inch of him. Your hand moved in tandem with your mouth, stroking the base of his length while your tongue swirled around the tip. Jensen’s reactions were immediate and intense, his hands tangling in your hair, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, Y/N”, he groaned, his voice a mixture of desperation and pleasure. “That feels so good”.

You continued your slow, deliberate pace, enjoying the way his body responded to your touch, the way he seemed to unravel beneath you. Each moan and gasp from him spurred you on, driving you to take him deeper, to push him closer to the edge.

Jensen’s groans became more desperate, his hips moving in sync with your mouth. He glanced down at you.

“Finally using that dirty mouth of yours for something good”, he teased, his voice a strained whisper.

The remark sent a spark of defiance through you, and you responded by gently biting down on him, just enough to make him gasp. The reaction was immediate—his grip on your hair tightened, and with a sudden, possessive urgency, he pushed his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into your throat.

You gagged slightly but adjusted quickly, letting him take control as his movements became more forceful. Jensen’s breath hitched, his hands firm on your head as he guided you, his pace becoming more frantic. “Fuck", he groaned, his voice rough with need. “Just like that”.

His words fueled your desire to please him, and you relaxed your throat, allowing him to thrust deeper. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, but you relished it, your hands gripping his thighs for support as he moved.

Jensen’s moans grew louder, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “I’m so close”, he warned, his voice a desperate rasp.

You hummed around him, the vibration pushing him even closer to the edge. With a final, shuddering thrust, Jensen let out a deep, guttural moan, his release hitting you in powerful waves.

Jensen’s body shuddered with the intensity of his climax, his grip on your hair tightening momentarily as he rode out the waves of pleasure. As he began to come down from his high, he looked down at you, his eyes still dark with desire. He gently pulled back, allowing his length to slip from your mouth.

His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. With his thumb, he pressed down on your bottom lip, opening your mouth slightly. “Let me see”, he murmured, his voice still thick with arousal.

You opened your mouth wider, showing him the evidence of his release pooled on your tongue. Jensen’s eyes darkened further, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Good girl”, he whispered. “Now, swallow”.

You obeyed, closing your mouth and swallowing his release, the action sending a shiver of satisfaction through you. Jensen watched you intently, his thumb brushing over your lips as you did. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, the connection between you both deeper than before.

“Perfect”, he murmured, his thumb gently tracing your jawline. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. The kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the intensity that had just passed between you.

Jensen pulled back slowly, his fingers still lingering on your jawline. He looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “you might actually be worth all this trouble after all”.

The sting of Jensen’s words lingered, and you couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of guilt and regret that crashed over you. You pulled away from him, unable to bear the closeness any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the emotions swirling inside you almost too much to bear. Your hands trembled as you reached for your toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste onto it with a shaky grip. You began to brush your teeth furiously, trying to scrub away the lingering taste and the disgust you felt towards yourself.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Jensen stepped inside. He rolled his eyes at the sight of you furiously brushing your teeth, his expression shifting from concern to annoyance.

“Really?”, he said, his voice dripping with irritation. “You’re brushing your teeth? That’s your solution?”.

You paused mid-brush, meeting his gaze in the mirror, feeling a mix of anger and shame bubbling up inside you. “I feel disgusting”, you snapped, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing your mouth.

Jensen crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, but brushing your teeth isn’t going to wash away what happened”, he said, his tone teasing but with an edge of frustration. “You think a little toothpaste will fix this?”.

Tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your vision as you glared at him in the mirror. “Do you have to make everything a joke, Jensen?”, you choked out, the hurt and guilt overwhelming you. “I’m trying to deal with this the best I can”.

His expression softened slightly, the irritation in his eyes giving way to concern. He pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his tone gentler. “You really are a delicate little flower, aren’t you?”, he teased softly, but there was no malice in his voice.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Don’t mock me”, you whispered, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Jensen placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and his gaze almost soft. He looked at you with a mix of concern and curiosity, clearly trying to navigate the storm of emotions swirling between you.

You sniffled again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you just stay away, Jensen?”.

His brow furrowed in surprise, and he tilted his head slightly. “You’re blaming me now?”, he asked, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

You shook his hand away, feeling a surge of anger rise within you. “Leave me alone”, you hissed, your voice sharper than you intended as you brushed past him and walked out of the bathroom.

Jensen stood there for a moment, clearly taken aback by your reaction. You could feel his gaze following you, but you didn’t look back. You made your way into the bedroom, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, guilt, and a deep sense of confusion battled for dominance within you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly. The silence between you and Jensen was thick with tension, and you could hear him moving slowly out of the bathroom, his footsteps hesitant as he approached.

“Y/N”, he began, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to—”.

“Just stop, Jensen”, you interrupted, your voice breaking. “Just don’t come near me again”.

Jensen rolled his eyes, frustration clear on his face. “We work together, Y/N. We can’t just avoid each other”.

“Then keep it fucking professional”, you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “Outside of work, I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. Just stay away from me”.

Jensen’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, clearly trying to control his temper. “Fine”, he said, his voice cold. “If that’s what you want”.

You looked away, feeling a mix of relief and sadness at his words. “It is”.

He lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but then he turned and walked towards the door. “I’ll see you on set”, he said.

As the door closed behind him, you let out a shuddering breath.

You sat there for a while, the silence of the room enveloping you, trying to sort through your tangled emotions.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 3

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Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2 @cheynovak @anacarolinadasf @winchesterwild78

[crowdedimagines]

Roadkill - Aaron Hotchner Imagine

Based around the season 4 episode 23 titled Roadkill! I am going through a rewatch right now and just watched this one!! Also I am trying to stick to the storyline of the episode, but obviously things will be a little different in how they play out 🤩 3.6K

"How do you feel about Oregon?" JJ asks immediately after I pick up on the third ring.

"I have a feeling I would like Oregon a lot more when it isn't 3:00a.m." I tease, sitting up in bed, already knowing whatever she's calling for is going to be bad enough to to call us in this early.

"Can you be in to the office to brief in an hour? Wheels are up around 4:30."

"I'll be there!"

We both get off the phone so we can pack our go bags and get the day started, although earlier for both of us then intended. I manage to take a fast shower by the time I get out my phone is ringing again, this time it's unit leader Aaron Hotchner.

"I assume you've been informed that we have a case and we're meeting shortly." Hotch has his stern, yet tired voice on.

"Yep, showered squeaky clean. I just need some coffee and I will be on my way!" I smile, wringing out the moisture that's still in my hair and put the phone on speaker to set it down on the bathroom counter.

"I actually just made too much, I'm on my way in now. I could bring you coffee." He offers.

I pause in my actions, surprised by the offer. Although I would've been a lot more shocked a couple weeks ago. When I started with the team Hotch was going through a divorce, but in recent weeks there's been a shift in our dynamic and I'm not sure I'm dreaming it up. It all started a couple weeks back when I dropped off some baked goods after a rare long weekend away from work for him and Jack since it was his weekend to have him. They invited me to stay and I spent the rest of the afternoon with the boys. By the end of the night I was calling him by his first name instead of 'Hotch' which was a new development. Ever since it's been small gestures and looks that tell me something is different.

I've been a part of the BAU for a couple years, growing in confidence and skill the more cases I get under my belt. I spent four years in the military as a designated marksman before continuing my training with the FBI, which lead me to the Counterterrorism Division, and then to the BAU.

"That sounds great actually." I grin. Bringing me coffee to work is another new thing. Aaron has been chattier, smiling more, but coffee is a new ball park.

"Alright, I will be in around twenty. Drive safe."

I mutter back a "you too" before we both hang up. As I make my way into the office I'm the first to reach the bullpen, I came a little early once I knew Aaron was going to be in. A traveling mug is sitting on my desk and I take a long sip. It's still hot, and it's exactly how I always make it. It's also the traveling mug he almost always can be seen with. I set my bag down by my desk before climbing up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"Good morning." I knock lightly on his open door, "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

He looks up from the folder in front of him and the frown leaves his face.

"I'm glad."

I take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. It'll be fifteen minutes before the rest of the team joins us. Hotch begins to fill me in on some of the details without going too much into it. We still have to brief as a team.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a vehicle being used as the weapon." I surmise.

"It's highly rare. I've never seen a case likely this first hand." Aaron admits and we discuss a few more aspects of the case.

Eventually the rest of the team trickles in and after some light conversation I go back to my desk. Garcia comes in stomping directly to my desk.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Kevin is looking into a working a secret job and I wont even know where he'll be!" She gushes.

"Slow down, he what?" I spin around in my chair. Garcia fills me in on the details of the job and exactly what he had said to her. The worry on her face is permanent.

"Don't worry yet. He hasn't gotten the job, and if he's offered, you don't even know if he'll take it! Lets just wait to worry once we have something to worry about."

Penelope nods agreeing with my words before moving onto Morgan's desk to do the same and I smile and shake my head. JJ pulls us all into the conference room.

"An unsub that kills with his car." Emily states, "I haven't seen that before."

"Neither have the police in Bend, Oregon." JJ replies, displaying pictures on the screen in front of us.

"Two victims in the last twelve days." Hotch adds, "First was hit on a morning jog and the second was a woman stranded after her car broke down."

"Both female victims, but completely different age groups." I speak up, "The first victim was 23 and the second was 43."

"Maybe they aren't connected." Morgan thinks out loud.

JJ pulls up more pictures and explains that both victims were backed over after they were hit. No chance of accident and the same tread marks at both scenes.

"With where these wounds are, the worst of the blow is high on the bodies." I comment looking through the file, "It has to be a truck or SUV to match these wound patterns."

"See if Garcia can follow that. Try tracking makes and models." Aaron directs.

"There should be significant front end damage to the vehicle." Spencer chimes in.

"Unless our unsub is smart enough and skilled enough to cover his tracks." I begin, "Somehow I don't think it'll be as easy as finding a damaged truck."

It's a five hour flight from DC all the way to Bend but thankfully it gives us all the opportunity to rest up again. By the time we land we can go straight to the police station.

"I think it's safe to say our unsub is male." I read over the case file, thinking out loud with Aaron. This is something new too, we often brainstorm together and work well to get the other thinking outside the box.

"I agree." Hotch nods, "Given what we know about aggressive driving and road rage."

"And the fact that men have an unnatural bond with their cars." Emily laughs. JJ chimes in to agree, which turns into Morgan disagreeing before Rossi is also adding to it.

"I think he has to be overcompensating. Why else have a need for a truck that big." I guess.

"Possibly." Spencer comments, "If the unsub is physically defective the car not only gives the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield."

"A way for him to avoid physical contact?" Hotch asks.

"He wants power and control of his victims." Prentiss shutters, "Female victims. It almost reads like an assault profile."

"I wanna know why he isn't getting personal with it then. If this is how he assaults women, what if there's something that prevents him from going a more traditional route. It's possible he's disabled." I suggest.

Hotch tells Garcia to look into it to see if anything recent could be a trigger and to look at the people surrounding the victims. Morgan and Rossi head to the highway to get a feel for it and see what they can get from it from the second victim's scene. Hotch and I head to where the jogger was hit.

"Not a lot of people jog here. It's a physically demanding hike." The sheriff informs gesturing to the trail.

"Well, she was a triathlete." I remind.

"The assailant drove behind her and ran her down right here." The sheriff walks us in to where the red stained gravel remains.

"She was jogging alone? Any woman would know if a car was following her up the trail. Her intuition would've been driving her crazy. She would get off the trail or call for help."

"What if he was already here waiting." Hotch agrees, taking in the scene, "What if she was the reason he was here and it wasn't random. He was waiting for her specifically."

"That would mean we underestimated him. It wasn't a random attack, it was planned and vindictive.

The team meets back at the station to go over what we've discovered. The second victim's husband comes in and recalls seeing a large black truck parked by their house giving us something. This confirms that he's targeting and stalking specific individuals.

"Ready be done for the night?" Aaron asks, he peeks his head into the conference room that only I occupy at this point. The rest of the team has already gone to the hotel to call it a night, but Aaron was still talking with the husband and I was just pouring over people in the area that raised some of Garcia's flags based on what we know so far.

"I suppose." I close the file I had been reading and rub at my eyes.

"It'll still be there tomorrow." He reminds.

"I know, the sooner the better though." That's something I don't need to remind him on. We both know it all too well. With an unsub this aggressive we know he isn't stopping anytime soon.

The drive to the hotel is short and comfortably quiet. Neither Aaron or myself have the energy to discuss anything as we're going on a fifteen hour day.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Aaron carried my bag in from the car to the foot of my bed in my room, even with multiple reassurances that I could carry it just fine. I give him a soft knowing smile before he leaves for his own room.

The next morning it's discovered that the unsub sabotaged the second victims car in order to strand them. He's very focused and well planned.

"We need to figure out why he's picking these women." Hotch states, "What makes them a target and links them together."

"Road rage, maybe they cut him off at some point?" I question, "Also how does he have the time to stalking these women to know their routines, sabotage a car, park and wait."

"Roughly eight percent of the United States is unemployed." Reid rattles off.

"Including someone who could be disabled and lives off of a pension." I remind from my earlier guess."

"Have Garcia look into it." Hotch states before walking away and I smile.

"Pretty girl is on top of it this case." Morgan teases with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I roll my eyes.

"Maybe it's something to do with her getting the case early and going over it with Hotch before our team briefing." Reid says with his nose already in a new file. I can feel my face turn a shade of red.

"Pretty girl is getting extra credit!" Prentiss joins in happy to tease, even adopting Morgan's typical nickname for me and Penelope.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about. I simply got in early and we were both at the office." I take a sip of my coffee, looking for any distraction, reaching out to grab a file for myself to ready through. I'm really glad that I didn't bring Hotch's travel mug in from the hotel, I still have it and I almost used it today. That definitely wouldn't go unnoticed with the people surrounding me.

Thankfully the team lets us move on and were able to brainstorm some more. Unfortunately it doesn't take long for JJ to interrupt to tell us there's been a third victim.

"Impact nearly cut him in two." The sheriff explains.

"Male victim?" I question as we arrive on the scene. The unsub hit him in a parking garage, pinning him between the truck and elevator doors. "He's getting more aggressive."

Cigarettes butts are discovered where the truck was parked in waiting. All of them stripped of the filter showing signs that he's military.

"Guys I think I know what ties the victims together." Reid interrupts, "All of the victims drove two door red coupes."

Garcia was able to look into car accidents that left someone injured enough to the point that he can't kill traditionally. He holds the person responsible for his accident for killing his loved one and his own disability. There's nearly twenty five people to still filter out off of the specifications we gave her.

"Wait you guys I think I found it." I sit up from the most recent file that had red flags, "Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley on route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road. His wife died at the scene."

"And Ian?" Rossi asks.

"He survived although he suffered a spinal cord injury."

Morgan and Prentiss go to his doctor to verify some information while we try to track down Ian. His house foreclosed after the accident.

"Track the parts for his specific truck. He's been doing his own repairs so they have to be sent somewhere." Rossi suggests to Garcia.

"Rossi gets a gold star!" Garcia sings, "He's having the parts drop shipped, I'm sending you guys the address."

"Hey, what do I get for knowing he would be disabled?" I jest, I called that from the plane.

"Nothing but my love, sugar." Garcia says before hanging up.

"I don't have a gold star, but well done Y/Ln." Aaron nods.

Arriving at the home Ian had been renting we find it empty but lots of surveillance photos of the victims and one other person who hasn't been harmed.

"Send this to Garcia now, we need to know who this is." Rossi hands me the picture. I send it to her and she's able to run his plate from the image.

It doesn't take her long to find him and contact his home, where she finds out that he's out biking with a group doing a thirty mile loop.

"Y/n, you're with me. We'll take the north side, Morgan and Rossi you start south and we'll meet in the middle." I quickly get in the passenger side of the SUV and Aaron takes off.

The biking club that target is in covers a lot of milage as Aaron speeds through the dirt road trying so hard to meet the group before the unsub does. Eventually we're closing in, but unfortunately the black truck is ahead of us and gaining on the bikers faster than we're gaining on him.

"Hold on." Aaron takes a risk by cutting Ian off before he can clip the mass of bicyclists. He does this by driving the front left corner of our car into the back right of his truck.

The airbags go off and were spun around from the impact.

"Y/n." Aaron calls. He says it a second time with more panic when I don't answer.

"I'm okay." I groan. The unsub is attempting to back his truck out of the ditch we're both stuck in to finish his mission. He took a much less impactful hit from our collision. I unclip my seatbelt and swing open my door, shattered glass falling from my lap as I stand up.

"Y/n, wait." Aaron instructs, he pulls hard on his seatbelt. It seems like he's stuck from the accident, but the worry on his face is only for me. I give him a look to say I've got this, while he continues to pull at his jammed seatbelt.

"Ian Coakley." I call out, and the man looks over to me briefly. It registers on his face that I am holding my gun and it's aimed for him, he has tears in his eyes.

"This is for Sheila." he floors it heading straight for the group that's waiting after witnessing the accident.

I plant my feet and aim for the back window of the truck, hoping to hit Ian's shoulder. Enough to stop him in his tracks before can harm anyone else without killing him. I've done enough killing myself over the years, and even with all he's done he's a man suffering with the grief of accidentally killing his wife.

The bullet leaves my gun with a loud crack, shattering the back window of the truck. He swerves but not enough to take him off the road. I let out a breath and fire again, this time sending a bullet into the back of his chair and sending his car off the road again to be stopped by a tree. I let out a huff of exhaustion from the impact leaning against the SUV.

Morgan and Rossi pull up and stop to get out and help Aaron and I after seeing our totaled SUV.

"Go" I wave them to keep driving to the unsub to see if he's ok and they do. Aaron manages to get out of the car finally, I hear Morgan call out to radio in an ambulance.

"He's still alive." Rossi shouts to us referring to Ian, they have him laying down now while applying pressure to his wound. The top of his shoulder which shouldn't be fatal, I sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks finally rounding the back of the car to join me where I stand, he steadies himself. I nod, finally putting my gun away, feeling how stiff my body is.

Aaron fully ignores my nod, taking my head in his hands and pulling my eyelid open to check for signs of a brain bleed. He wipes at my forehead, pulling back his hand with blood on it. Maybe we were hit harder than I thought. Damn airbags.

"I think you have a concussion-" He states, "and you might need stitches."

The worry on his face is deep. I can feel the guilt radiating off of him, he was the one driving. He's the one that chose to hit the unsub's truck.

"I'm okay!" I reassure him, placing my hands on top of his that still rest on my head. This is crossing a new line. He's never touched my face, and I've never touched his hands like this.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was reckless."

"I'm glad you did." I disagree, "If we had waited any longer he would've been able to get his last victim. There's an entire biking club alive right now because of you."

This reminder seems to help slightly, he looks over my shoulder where the crowd remains. I pull him in for a hug, both of us shaking slightly from the adrenaline. After a while we pull apart, the rest of the team arrives as well as a couple ambulances. One takes Ian away immediately, escorted with two police officers as well.

"It took two shots? You're losing your touch." Morgan teases, thowing an arm around my shoulder that makes me wince a little. My phenomenal aim has always been a touchy subject with him, not liking being second.

"I'm concussed and he was driving fast." I defend, fully knowing how whiny I sound.

"Statically of our entire team Y/n would be the only one likely to have made that shot with the variable speed that Ian Croakley was traveling at." Spencer chimes in.

"I knew you were my favorite for a reason." I grin pulling Spence in for a hug effectively shaking off Morgan's arm.

"Yeah, whatever." Morgan shrugs, ruffling the hair in top of Spencer's head.

"Ma'am, you really need to get looked at." The emt reminds, interrupting our conversation. I leave the group and look over to see Aaron sitting on the back of one of the ambulances. We both finish getting evaluated, thankfully nothing too serious that we have to delay our flight home.

"You were right about the concussion." I grin walking up to Aaron as the sheriff walks off.

"And it would seem the stitches too." He reaches out again, thumb hovering over the threading sticking out of my forehead.

"Yeah, should make fore a pretty badass scar." I tease.

"I'm sure it will." He smiles, a real smile. The Aaron smile that I have seen so rarely, but more frequent lately. The plane ride back home is quiet, everyone drained, Aaron and I just flat out sore. By the time we get back to the BAU, Aaron sends everyone home saying the paperwork can wait for the following day. Everyone clears out and he goes back up to his office.

"Not following your own advice?"I question, walking into his office. I make my way round to his side of the desk and lean back on it. The edge of my thigh just barely meeting the outside of his arm from where he sits.

"Just wrapping up a few things before." He sets down his papers, his eyes raking all the way up me from toe to head, we both pretend I don't notice.

"You know, since I have a concussion they said I need to be under observation. No sleeping, crazy delusions, slipping into comas that sort of thing. You know anyone who wants to stay awake with me?"

"I can think of someone" He smirks, "I can put on a pot of coffee."

I pull out the to go mug he had brought my coffee in a few days ago out of my tote and hold it out to him.

"Take me home Aaron."

AHHHHHHHH i hope yall like this! i haven't written in forever to it was honestly just fun to do! :)

[astrolovecosmos]

Libra is the sign of beauty and autumn can be a beautiful time of the year. This period begins with the Autumn Equinox, when day and night are of equal length, symbolizing balance. This sign starts the season of transformation with a shift from the intensity and heat of summer to a more calmer and reflective energy.

The falling leaves and cooling temperatures evoke a sense of letting go, urging people to find peace in the impermanence of life, which resonates with Libra's diplomatic nature and its ability to embrace change while maintaining inner balance. While many times we talk about how Libra aims for balance and can reach it often, they also experience times of imbalance. With September being very warm still in many places, but the beginning of cool weather in others, and even more common a month filled with swinging, ranging temperatures, this also matches up with the lifting and falling scales.

During September people anticipate the comfort and celebration of fall and eventually winter. Libra is about pleasure, relaxation, and indulgence. It is also worth noting Libra season aligns with the beginning of "cuffing season", perfect for the sign of love, romance, pairs, and partnerships.

Libra may balance beauty with intellect, objective judgment or acceptance with subjective taste, a busy schedule or work with rest, as well as their weaknesses and strengths - their light and dark. Libra has a lot of positive attributes that are talked about, but we can't forget their flaws or darker side such as jealousy, selfishness, vanity, and a deceptive side. This part of them paired with their seduction, creativity, beauty, and charisma makes a great story or archetype for the spooky days that will eventually be upon us in October.

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 17 prompt : hayride

rated: T | cw: none | tags: Steve Harrington owns a farm, Eddie Munson is a clown, fluff

🤡🤡🤡🤡

Steve is on the last leg of the days final hay ride rout. It’s been another weekend of setting up and making sure all the stalls are covered with their seasonal workers, checking in with health and safety and ensuring the entertainers got the newest version of the final Halloween themed weekend schedule, before everything shifts to the Christmas holiday themes.

But it went off without a hitch, another solid season overall.

The farm had been his passion project. Built thanks to his Grandad’s sudden death and meticulous stipulations that all his money go to his only grandson. Freeing Steve completely from under his father’s thumb and allowing him breathing space to finally do something he enjoyed. Even if he is using the business degree his Dad bullied him into, it’s definitely not the route his father wanted for his life.

But Steve loves it. Every moment. Working outside, with people he trusts, like Robin who runs the creative side, marketing a decorating and generally making the place look amazing. Being an honest to god farmer, much to his mother’s chagrin gives him a real sense of purpose and pride, every pumpkin he manages to grow is like a pat on the back.

And, privately, Steve gets to give kids the kind of memories that he could only dream of when he was younger. And that’s worth more than anything.

That last thing is part of the reason why he so often spends the last couple hours of opening running the hay ride. He gets to hear the families and kids enjoy their time together, react to the view and the wooden characters Robin painted, huddle into their coats and snuggle in close. It’s magic. Steve loves it. So he drives the tractor as often as he can.

It’s great. He loves his life, he really does. But, unfortunately, it can’t all be perfect. This season in particular has had one little problem. One bit of danger.

The danger which just so happens to be the first thing he sees as he rounds the last bend of the hay ride. Eddie. Their newest entertainment hire and the thorn in Steve’s side.

He’s way too hot for Steve to be any kind of normal around him.

A honest to god clown. With tricks and magic and jokes and songs. With his little autumn themed outfit and matching makeup. Steve’s heard nothing but good things about him, a shoe in to be rehired every season going forward. The crowds can’t get enough of the guy.

Which is all great. If Steve didn’t have a disgustingly huge crush on him.

Even dressed fully in his clown paint and outfit he’s hot.

It really shouldn’t be hot.

But it is.

And Steve can’t even think about what he looks like in his normal clothes because he could honestly start to get hard thinking about it. The guy is insane.

Not to mention one of the kindest sweetest people ever. To everyone, but it seems to Steve especially. He can’t count the amount of times Eddie’s made him blush just from being so sweet or a little flirty or a little tease.

So really, it’s been hell, the whole season, because I Steve can’t work out a way of asking the guy out that doesn’t make him come off as some creepy boss.

And now Eddie’s there, waiting for Steve at the end of the hay ride. And Steve has no damn clue why.

Steve parks and opens the gate for people to file out. Waving and thanking them for coming, hoping to see them soon.

He stalls until everyone is gone, until the section of farm is empty except the two of them.

Steve bites his lip, jumping up to grab the tractor keys so he can have another moment not looking at Eddie.

Eventually though, he turns, smiles. ‘You good man?’ He asks.

Eddie nods. Looking fidgety. He’s still in his clown makeup but his costume’s been replaced with black jeans and a padded flannel.

Steve crosses his arms and tries not to think about that way the denim stretches over his thighs.

Eddie takes a deep breath. ‘I know you’re my boss and all. But, well, my last shift just finished and I would love if you extended my contract, seriously, but. I’d honestly kick myself if I didn’t at least try.’ Eddie says in a rush.

Steve scrunches his eyebrows.

Eddie revels a bouquet of balloon flowers from behind his back, shy through the face paint, biting his red lip.

Steve is lost for words, mouth opening and closing dumbly.

This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.

‘This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.’ He says, dumbfounded.

Eddie smiles, his whole face lighting up. ‘Steve Harrington, will you please go on a date with me?’ He asks.

Steve laughs, takes the flowers and sniffs them just to hear Eddie’s giggle. ‘Yeah.’ He whispers. ‘I’d really like that.’

🤡🤡🤡🤡

Tag list: @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @thecatkingsthrone @marvel-ous-m

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[alohaasaloevera]

guys I’m honestly happy that klance didn’t become canon because I love how as a collective group of people we utilize our right to explore what could have been and create the most smoking hot scenarios ever and yes I obviously wanted more of their friendship growing into this bond stronger than anything else in the universe especially since Voltron has teamwork and family as one of their main lessons but that’s more of a development issue all around…ok besides that there’s something about klance where it provides this PERFECT environment for shippers to inhabit and FEAST upon. With klance, there’s a solid, engaging dynamic between the two set up, which is this weird one-sided rivalry that stems from Lance’s insecurity and his need to prove himself of his worth and Keith literally being one of the best pilots for his age but since they’re flung into space and chosen to become child soldiers in this 10,000 year old intergalactic war so they have to work as a team which surprise surprise forces them to put aside their differences and work as a team which is shown a bunch when Keith needs to become a leader and Lance steps up as his right hand and and they have some kinda tender moments that won’t definitely drive shippers into a shipping craze (or worse) SO YEAH you could see why people loved it with all the classic tropes and mutual growth all that schmooze (ALSO THEY KNEW EACHOTHER BEFORE THE MAIN PLOT??? Well maybe not like friends or even acquaintances probably BUT HELLO?????? EVEN MORE SHIT TO EXPAND ON????), and they share multiple scenes that could be interpreted as romantic but there’s no explicit romance. This environment is fucking dripping drenched flash flooded cornered by 1000ft tsunamis in all directions with potential for shipping, so when people saw this relationship between two bros with this sort of homoerotic (IM JOKING. Kinda.) unresolved tension towards each other and the POTENTIAL for a good slow burn rivals to friends to lovers, it was to no one’s surprise that they went APESHIT. Klancers made countless different ways where they get together whether it be pre-Kerberos, post-gettingthefuckoutofearth, the start of the show, the end of the show, after the end of the show, right smack in the middle, anywhere, anytime, for who the fuck knows why just ANY REASON DAMN IT it doesn’t really matter because people were pumping out fanfiction or fan art or any fan media of klance faster than I spit out a raw baby carrot after chewing it for one second and now we’re all wallowing about how it should have been KICK but the thing is that if VLD did KICK all the way to Altea, the production of these beautiful stories that so many people have and still are coming up with about klance kissing in midst of a battle, helping each other with their crippling nightmares, smiling for the stars or some other sad premise, and whatever is nestled in his pulse…just like uhhh the amount of fics like these that go into great detail about Keith and Lance in these random situations that end up with them getting together being produced would go down to some degree because of the fact that if the people’s beloved sharpshooter and samurai had ended up together like we had wanted, and the majority was satisfied with the ending the creators had given, people would have shifted from writing about “How could Lance and Keith get together?” to writing about “What could Lance and Keith do now that they’re together?” And like. There’s nothing wrong with that honestly I would be HYPED if klance was ever canon but there is profound beauty in the way the community is able to create more from less and turn a show that went to shit in the last few seasons shine even brighter than it did at its prime. Like I wouldn’t trade my favorite fics 4 anything.

—

Ok another little thing I’m going to put here: With Klance, all I wanted was for them to be great friends 😭😭😭. I tend to prefer klance becoming canon in later seasons or at the end or even an open ending with no confirmed romantic relationships because I am a sucker for character development and the idea of Keith and Lance both harboring these feelings that at first are just admiration and respect but then escalate to yearning for one another or becoming close friends at the end of the show and getting to imagine anything I want post canon is EVERYTHING if you give me S7 Garrison klance I’ll keel over and thank you like I was a second away from dying of thirst and your gift was a truck load of water

[luckybyler]

I’ve watched up to 4x03 so far + latest episodes of season 8, and I’ve come to the conclusion that Buck is the baby of the 118 family because he was assigned that role by them, not because of any inherent traits of him.

I’m not saying he isn’t impulsive and sometimes an idiot because he is, I’m saying that he’s not worse than everyone else, and yet they all keep the privilege of being treated like adults afterwards. And being the baby of the group can be a good thing, but it’s a bad thing when it makes people not take you seriously of treat you condescendingly, which is often the case with Buck.

I’ve seen Maddie stalk a 911 caller, Eddie became an illegal fighter and almost killed a guy, Hen PERFORM AN IMPROVISED TRACHEOTOMY INSIDE A MOVING VEHICLE, AS A PARAMEDIC, Bobby missed a shift because he relapsed in his binge drinking, Athena wiped her ass with police procedure several times, Abby got Buck’s number unethically to say the least… that’s what I remember from the top of my head right now. I’m sure there was more stuff. Most of them were reprimanded in some way of course, but again, all were treated like adults. Had Buck been in their place he would’ve never heard the end of it.

On the other hand, Buck constantly does adult things that are ignored or dismissed. Like, he gets along with children and is good at taking care of them. If this was any other guy, everyone would say “he’s a great dad/he’ll make a great dad one day”. But because it’s Buck, it means he’s “one of the kids” and gets the funny music. Or Maddie’s called “basically Buck’s mom” even though our introduction to her involved her arriving unannounced at his (Abby’s, but still) place, and Buck letting her stay with him, hooking her up with a job and helping her find and move to a new apartment, as normal brothers and sisters do. Or the lawsuit era of “you’re a selfish child who can’t understand that we’re doing this for your own good, also my son and I need you and you weren’t there to bail me out of jail”; or when he helped Athena organize a secret Christmas dinner at the 118 with all their loved ones and the group home, etc. and at the end she was like “see what you can do when you use your brain for good?” like, why don’t you just say “thank you Buck for helping me make Christmas happen” like a normal person, *Athena*? Why not keep the condescending comment to yourself? Or when Chim kicked him out of his house after half a day and then overstaying his welcome for at least a month the next season, then having his brother stay there. And I’m glad Bobby wasn’t affected by the radiation, but Buck had a point about the nosebleed.

And speaking of Bobby, I cannot emphasize enough how much he has never had to give Buck a shower (at least as far as episode 4x03), and yet Buck *has* had to give *Bobby* a shower at least once because he was so drunk he didn’t know who he was neighbours with. And how much if I was in Bobby’s place I wouldn’t be able to look at Buck in the eye afterwards and think “yes, I am the father in this relationship”.

I guess I relate to Buck’s situation a lot, but yeah. I’m not saying Buck is perfect or everyone should be so grateful to Buck or even that they can’t see him as the baby in a way, a good way. As in whimsy and baby blues. But he is an adult **and he acts like it**, so they need to start seeing him more as an equal.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

💎Treasure💎

The night just gets better and better.

Smut - woozi x fem!reader

Just wait til I pull the uno reverse 😈😈😈

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.9k

CW: pwp, anal(f!recieving), analingus (f!rec.), fingering, cunnilingus, some anxiety and comfort for flavor

˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨🍑୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚

Your ears are still ringing as you enter the cool black SUV parked outside of one of the side doors meant for talent. Your boyfriend, Jihoon, accompanies you with a hand placed on your lower back, guiding you into the vehicle. The chauffeur takes off down a road lined with tall buildings and bright shining lights while Jihoon begins talking a mile a minute. He’s ecstatic because you got him tickets to his favorite artist, Bruno Mars, complete with backstage passes and VIP treatment. He acted cool when you gifted it to him months ago for your anniversary, but now, he’s practically jumping up and down with joy after seeing the show. He can’t even stay still in his seat, telling you his favorite parts of the concert and how cool Bruno was in real life. 

“I can’t believe I got a signed album!”

“Yeah, it’s so cool! I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smile and think about how much he deserved a break from his schedule for this little vacation. 

“What was your favorite part because mine was when-” and he continues to describe the concert that you also went to while you look at him fondly. 

You worked with his manager in secret to schedule along with his time off, making sure the show wasn’t in the middle of comeback season. There was one long weekend available, but the show was in Japan, so you decided to make a whole trip out of it. A nice hotel in Tokyo, some touristy sightseeing, a concert, and food, of course, all made for a wonderful getaway and perfect present for the busiest man on the planet. That alone is a great gift from the perfect girlfriend, but the night isn’t over yet, and you still have some surprises up your sleeve. 

He finishes his long recollection that was fueled by barely one breath, forgetting that conversations are usually two-sided. He's dazed with a look of pure amazement stuck on his face. To get him back to reality, you begin to entice him with the next phase of your perfect gift master plan. “I still have one last present to give you,” you tease, meeting his eyes which were the size of the moon and twice as bright, “but you have to wait until we get back to the hotel.” You punctuate the sentence with a playful wink. 

His face softens as he says, “You have already done so much for me, babe. You can’t top yourself, honestly, and you don’t have to.” He leans over and chances a soft kiss on your cheek, not wanting to show too much PDA in front of the driver whose focus was on the road ahead of him. You shift around in your seat, partially due to the excitement building in your chest for his reaction to your final gift and partially for another reason. 

The driver pulls up to the glass doors of the hotel, steps out of the car, and opens the door for you both. Jihoon hops out first and reaches for your hand to help you as you awkwardly start to slide following him. He has been so excited all day that he didn’t notice the extra few minutes you took in the bathroom getting ready for the show. He didn’t notice how you awkwardly fidgeted in your seat waiting for the show to start. You let out a small laugh to yourself that also goes unnoticed. 

Once the doors shut to the elevator, finally creating some privacy from a crowd of thousands of eyes, Jihoon’s hand drops inside of the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass. Ironic.

“Can I assume that the final present has something to do with me getting to have your body all night?” he says way too calmly in that dark voice he gets when he’s horny. His hand is subtly kneading the handful of flesh.

“Maybe,” you answer. Your eyelids lower and lips suddenly meet your neck in kisses light as a feather that only leaves you wanting more. Between packing, going over the itinerary, and double checking all tickets and reservations, the two of you hadn’t had much time to do anything intimate. You’re sure, however, that the wait will only contribute to the evening you have planned. 

The elevator opens and you both make it to your room still somehow fully clothed. Jihoon’s hand never leaves your back pocket, even when he takes the keycard from his wallet to open the door. Once inside, your hands find their way under his baggy t-shirt, slowly mapping muscles until you are pulling it up and off of his body. You leave your shoes at the door and move closer to the bed, beckoning him to follow.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one getting a present.” Jihoon chuckled, surprised by how eager you were. 

“I’m just getting you ready to unwrap it.” You take a few steps back until the back of your knees hit the plush white sheets of the bed. Jihoon follows you and places his hands on the button of your jeans and achingly slowly undoes them and helps you shimmy them off. His first surprise is that you are, in fact, specially wrapped. He quickly pulls your shirt off to discover a full new set of red lace lingerie with ruby red rhinestones beaded throughout the piece, giving the outfit a sexy sparkle.

“Well that wrapping is just too pretty,” he replies, biting his lip. His eyes rake over your form that’s wrapped in his favorite color. “I might want you to keep it on.” He gets close, and, in an instant, your lips collide in a hungry kiss. His hands roam up and down, stroking the lace slowly making you shiver as the light touches glide over your most sensitive areas. A hand goes to cup you underneath and rub you slowly up and down.

When the lips find your neck again, kissing, licking, and sucking right under your jaw, you breathe out, “Honey, trust me, you’ll want to unwrap your present.”

Jihoon moves to sucking the exposed parts of your breasts and looks up at you through his eyelashes. Those eyes have an innocent curiosity in them that makes you feel like you're on top of the world. Wordlessly, you detach your boyfriend from your chest with a wet pop, and sit on the bed. His eyes follow you as you scoot back until you are poised in the middle of the bed. Even just the simple sight of you moving seductively has Jihoon hot and getting hotter. His hand reaches to palm his stiffening cock through his pants. You bite your bottom lip and enjoy watching him as he slides off one layer of fabric. Following his movements, you remove your bra and take a nipple between your fingers while staring at him. Seeing the gorgeous tent in his underwear just makes you more excited. Shivers of anticipation slide down your spine as he crawls his way to you on the bed. 

“Go ahead,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows,” unwrap your present.”

Slowly, Jihoon hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and drags them down. He makes eye contact the whole time until you start to spread your legs wide for him to see everything. His gaze falls down to where you have revealed your gift to your hardworking, dedicated, super sexy boyfriend. A red jewel comfortably sits, decorating your ass like it's a royal treasure. A plug is snug in your hole keeping you stretched and ready for the evening ahead. 

Jihoon’s eyes fly open wide as he realizes the implication of the plug. He reaches to grab your thighs and folds your legs to get a better look. He places one leg on his shoulder to free his hand to spread your cheeks open and thumb around the jewel.

“Did you have this inside the whole time? Like even during the concert?” he asks, surprised. You nod excitedly. “This…” He’s mesmerized by the way the jewel shines in the dim light. By how your body just moves according to any of his whims. By the strain in your face as he touches you in that way that makes you so needy for him. By the way your mind works to craft perfect presents for him. “This beats the concert. By far.”

You remember all the times Jihoon’s mouth ventured a little too far past your wet hole to the tight ring of muscle below it. You remember how you had to slap him away and scold him because you weren’t prepared and wanted to do it right if you ever decided to do it. You remember all the times he’s taken you from behind and teased your ass with his hard dick, rubbing the tip against it, or his fingers which longed to find their way inside. He had been denied time and time again, but now, you were willing and very ready to have him explore a new part of you. 

“Happy anniversary, baby,” you say as you reach to press the jewel. Jihoon watches intently as you teasingly pull at it just a little just to push it back inside. His lips are parted and you swear he’s breathing through his mouth and trying not to drool. The motion makes his cock twitch, and he’s resisting the urge to cum just from watching you. A few soft moans slip from your lips when Jihoon’s fingers begin to move again, rubbing at your rim then subtly trying to dip in with the plug.

You only feel a moment of discomfort as he tries this, but you don’t let it show. Instead, your hand meets his and guides it to grab at the jewel decorating your entrance. He pumps it in and out a few times, which you encourage with a sharp inhale and a sensual mewl. He braves to begin removing the plug at a snail’s pace, watching as the round base stretches you in a way that almost makes him drool. Your face contorts a bit at that part as you are still unfamiliar with the sensation of the thickest parts of it.

Jihoon stalls his movements when he glances at your face. “Are you okay? Am I going too fast?” His concern is genuine and comforting. He doesn’t want to mess up or hurt you somehow, afraid it might cause this sexual experience to be a one time endeavor. You move to get a little more comfortable, taking your leg off of his shoulder and grabbing a pillow to prop under your lower back. 

“I’m okay,” you laugh, “Don’t worry.”

“You know I’m thicker than this,” Jihoon says, continuing his careful removal of the plug. The largest part passes, sloping to its smaller tip. Jihoon takes a moment to examine the object. It’s smaller than what he expected, but its size makes sense for easing a beginner.

“I know,” you swallow with anticipation. 

“And I’m much longer,” he says more teasingly. He discards the plug and grabs at your butt, spreading the cheeks and taking a look at his real treasure left behind. The sight of your stretched, blushy hole makes his heartbeat quicken, pumping all the blood in his brain straight to his dick. 

“I know.” You can see his eyes and how they are stuck. You’re slick, both from the wet mess of your pussy from all the dirty talk and anal play and from the copious amount of lube now visible from your glistening asshole. 

Jihoon chuckles, “You really wanted to be prepared, didn’t you?” He’s dipping the tip of his finger inside the wet muscle, testing the waters and feeling the soft walls of the inside. There’s more lube than there needed to be for the plug but not enough for more than one finger to make it inside without the dry sting of skin dragging against skin.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to feel it at all. If it hurt, I wouldn’t have done any of this. Ever.” You gasp when he slides his full pointer into you. He exaggerates a pout on his lips before leaning in to kiss you once on the lips.

“Then,” he starts while pumping his finger, “I better do this right.” He takes a moment to glance around the room then asks you where the lube is. You point him to your bag and he retrieves it quickly. Before fully returning to the bed, he pulls down his underwear revealing his hard cock now red and soaked in precum. 

You know what it looks like, you’ve seen it many, many times. But now, even after the warnings you thought were kind of silly, it looks somehow more daunting. You are determined, however, to see your plan all the way through, and, most importantly, you trust your boyfriend not to hurt you. So far, he had been so slow and careful, even at the expense of delaying his own pleasure. He doesn’t show any discomfort on his face from being so hard and not getting much relief. It’s a testament to how committed he is to making you feel comfortable, even though it’s his present. 

Jihoon crawls toward you and takes his place between your legs again. With a pop, the lid to the small bottle opens and the viscous lube is spread around three of his fingers. He coats them all thoroughly. He leans in again to kiss you, his tongue seeks entrance. You melt into him and barely register the first finger entering. It’s a familiar feeling as it pokes and prods around inside. Soon, a second finger joins. That one, you feel. The stretch is not unlike the plug. Because it was in for so long, you had gotten used to it, even starting to find it pleasurable when it moved.

You moan as the third finger finally makes its way inside and moves alongside the other two. The moment that last finger starts to breach the entrance, Jihoon has his other hand working on your clit, to make sure you feel good while adjusting. His fingers dig into the sensitive bud as he spreads the three fingers. He watches as you drip from your pussy.

“God, you’re beautiful, baby.” He removes his fingers from your hole and grabs your waist. “I want you on your knees, okay?” 

You let him move you for the most part, liking the way he takes command and manipulates your body into position with his strong hands and arms. Your elbows meet the pillow that was once on your back and you decide to lay on it, cuddling it close and arching lower into the bed providing you boyfriend a perfect view. 

“Good girl,” he growls before his lips meet one of the soft flesh of your ass. He kisses and licks and sucks until a red hickey appears on your otherwise pure and unmarked flesh. He moves to kiss at your stretched hole, taking chances to dip the tip of his tongue inside. You’re so turned on from the dirty act. Jihoon is relishing in the fact that he can finally follow through on all of the fantasies he’s had about your backside. Fingers, tongue, and finally his hard cock can now experience the feeling of your tight hole around them. Your moans encourage him to go further, tasting the new, fresh, and clean walls that were once forbidden for him. He’s enjoying himself and taking his time, but he puts a finger in your very wet pussy and moves it the way you like, instantly finding that spot that riles you up and tires you out. He just knows you so well.

When the ache in his dick just is too much to bear, Jihoon pulls away from your hole with one last kiss, wipes his face with the back of his hand, and coats his cock in a liberal amount of lube. You tense up a bit when you hear the cap of the bottle again and then the wet sounds of him stroking his cock, making sure to thoroughly coat the whole thing. He teasingly slides it between your cheeks and groans into a thrust, using his hands to hold them together.

“Are you ready, baby?” he says, his voice low in his chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and hum your approval rather than talking. You are excited and want him to just do it already, but you can’t shake all of the fear and anxiety about the new experience. 

Jihoon grabs your hips. He sees that your hands are gripping the pillow beneath you tightly and your eyes are shut. He rubs his thumb in soothing circles and says in a much gentler voice, “Please let me know that you still want to do this. I’m happy to get off any other way, and what you’ve given me so far has been amazing already.”

Your perfect boyfriend’s willingness to give up the climax of his perfect present brought you back to Earth from the anxiety spiraling in your head. You turn your head to look at him from your vulnerable and intimate position to reassure him. “I do! I really want to do this! I just got nervous is all. Please, Ji, I want you so badly.” You bring the mood back by wiggling your butt to bring his attention to it and tease him a little. 

“Good,” he breathes out relieved, “You know I never want to hurt you. I love you, baby.”

You don’t have a chance to respond because he slides his blunt, thick tip past the ring of muscle and so torturously slowly pushes just the head in. Instead, you just gasp into moaning desperately clawing at the pillow under you. Something about it being more than just his fingers, more than some toy, sends tingles through your spine. He’s making noise behind you and straining not to cum immediately. You urge him to do more, then he pushes his shaft in, inch by solid inch. The warmth and tightness is killing him and he has to pause multiple times to regain his composure. It’s a miracle he hasn’t let it all go, but he powers through with a death grip on your hips that will no doubt leave fingertip size marks.

When he finally bottoms out, you're both panting, taking in air like you forgot how to breathe. You settle into the feeling of being so full in your ass. The sting of his fingers digging into your flesh is the cherry on top of all that you are feeling. It reminds you of his absolute dominance and power over you. You would do anything in the world for him, and he knows that. 

“How do you feel? Talk to me, baby.” Jihoon sounds almost desperate.

“Good,” you mewl out, “Go ahead; you can move.”

The grip on you softens, but still maintains its power in moving you along with his careful thrusts. Jihoon pulls out almost all the way and fucks his way back in leisurely. His pace turns rhythmic and his hips meet your ass in a clap like gentle applause. He bends forward, overwhelmed by the perfect fit of his cock inside of you. His choked moans drift into the air. He brings one hand to meet your clit, rubbing in circles. What were once staccato breaths turn into long whines that make Jihoon move his hands and hips faster.

Jihoon watches the ring of muscles as it swallows his full length over and over again. He’s becoming overstimulated by the whole experience, every movement and sound going straight to his cock. He lifts the hand not working on pleasuring your pussy and gives your ass a slap then holds on tight to the flesh. Your surprised gasp that turns into a high pitched moan encourages him to do it one more time. He fucks into you harder, relishing in the sight of the flesh beneath him jiggling.

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says in a strained voice like he’s trying to hold out just a little longer.

“Cum for me. Cum on my ass,” you beg for his release. It all felt very good, especially his fingers giving your clit special attention, but you were also ready for his focus to be on your release. Normally, he let you come first and often, but tonight was all about him. He obviously won’t let it be for long, but for now, he listens and lets go of all of his stubborn resolve.

An emptiness sets in your bones as Jihoon pulls out, leaving you gaping and twitching. He strokes himself until long ribbons of milky white splatter on your backside. Stars accumulate in his eyes, and he almost screams out his moans. If either of you were in a clearer state of mind, you would be worried about being in a hotel where other people could potentially hear you. But nothing else in the world matters more to Jihoon than watching his now cum-covered girlfriend’s gaping hole. 

Though he’s spent, Jihoon bends down to once again lay kisses on your ass. He pecks at the red marks left by his tight grip and spanking, making sure the pain doesn’t linger on your skin. He kisses your bright red hole as the gape closes. Finally, he makes his way to kiss your dripping wet pussy. You scoot back toward the sensation of his lips parting to let his tongue lay flat inside your labia to lap up all the liquid pleasure still dripping from your cunt. His hand returns to its spot on your clit as he eats you out from behind to ensure that you finish just as explosively as he did. 

“Please, cum for me, pretty girl,” he whispers before pumping his tongue inside of you. Your face twists in satisfaction from finally getting stimulation inside of your pussy. He pokes and prods his tongue at your walls until you convulse on his mouth, and scream into the pillow beneath you. You collapse onto your side, panting and very tired. Jihoon crawls lazily up the bed until he’s pressing himself to your back, and his arms capture you in a comforting embrace. You use the last of your strength to turn to face him, bringing your hands up to cup his face and kiss all over it.

“You never said it back.” Jihoon’s gaze pierces through you. You look at him confused. “I said that I love you, and you didn’t say it back.” He puffs out his cheeks cutely and pouts, looking way too innocent for a man who just fucked you into oblivion.

You giggle at how ridiculous it is that your boyfriend could be so breathtakingly sexy and cool ninety-nine percent of the time, but when it came to reciprocating an “I love you”, aegyo was suddenly his favorite tool to use. “I love you, too, Jihoon.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, pretending to be cool again. He brings you into a kiss again, and you feel like you could die in this moment and be perfectly content. It was a fun experience and you are very happy that Jihoon enjoyed himself while exploring the previously untouched part of you. You do, however, find yourself wondering for even just a second what it would be like if the roles were reversed. You save that thought in the dirty vault in your mind and just enjoy being in Jihoon’s arms.

[thearchercore]

It makes me sad for Max that some of his supposed friends are just using them for their own gain and then discard him when it's more convenient for his PR... It also makes me glad he at least has Charles who will always respect Max even if they disagree about something.

i mean, max is a grown man, first and foremost, so i don't think he would be having a breakdown over lando and/or daniel wilding on main and throwing indirect or direct shade at him.

but even with that, max is a genuine person who's not really into PR games whatsover. what he thinks is what you get.

i found it incredibly interesting how this shift in daniel's and lando's behaviour came by the end of the season, right when max started spending more time around the paddock with charles than anyone else.

on daniel's side, you still have the alpha tauri/3rd RBR driver PR responsibilities, so they obviously will work it out for these public appearances. lando, however, seems to be distancing himself from max over the winter break.

also we should not act like max and charles have a perfect relationship, they suuure know how to beef it out but after the great unfollowing of austria 2019. they always seem to talk it out.

to quote a moment @gaslightgirlsummer recently mentioned to me, after their bahrain 2020 crash, they talked it out on the side of the track: "side note charles was very funny bc apparently when max came up to him he was trying to act innocent like “what happened” and max was like FUCK YOU MEAN WHAT HAPPENED because it was obviously charles’ fault"

but by the end of this season, you could really see that they appeared to work out whatever they had going on and improved in their communication (e.g. max sprinting to charles to apologize for the vegas turn 1 incident)

so yeah, in conclusion, charles and max always seem to work out their issues in private and never take the drama to the press, which is admirable and just shows the respect they have.

the same, however, cannot be said about daniel or lando

[aspiringtrashpanda]

My Nightbringer Season 3 Thoughts

Alright. Here we go. I have so many thoughts and I needed to write them all out. Please do not proceed past the cut unless you have completed Nightbringer lesson 60, for LOTS of spoilers lie ahead.

FIRST OFF, I want to acknowledge that this is being written prior to reading lesson 60 HARD because I have to finish lesson 59 HARD first and I need to yap.

SECONDLY, I want to say that I am not hating on the writers here AT ALL. Nightbringer has always been a slow burn. It was set up that way. The writers were absolutely forced into a corner here and had to wrap a long story up speedy quick and they did what they could in a short period of time. As someone who loves long fics and slow burns, I like to think I understand where they were trying to go with the story, and I do genuinely feel like the overall point of the Nightbringer season 3 art makes perfect sense, but the execution leaves more to be desired for a multitude of reasons. 

So, let’s get into it.

WHAT WORKED

THE RAD SCIENCE FAIR

This may be a controversial opinion, but I believe the Science Fair was a great inclusion as it mirrors the progression of the human world over the years. Hear me out: considering we are spanning thousands of years here, it’s worth looking at the mentality of the human race over history. For a long time faith in your chosen religion was considered the answer to most troubles, and only in more recent history have we seen a shift towards a reliance on science and modern technology. 

It is important to note that I am an atheist, though I strongly believe in freedom of religion. I’m drawing from basic observation here, and am not well-versed in the details of religion and science, but I do think it’s fair to say that we as a species have gone from believing illnesses to be due to demonic possession to looking for a more scientific reason why we’re coughing up blood. THUS, I think the Devildom Science Fair is a cool way to show this progression, but it leaves one problem: We don’t know the Celestial Realm’s views on all of this. See the next section on WHAT DIDN’T WORK for more on this. 

The Science Fair did present numerous opportunities for light shenanigans with the cast that hint to other things going on, which has been Nightbringer’s modus operandi since the beginning. There is absolutely an issue with pacing here, however, but I will cover that later and again, not the writers’ fault. Regardless, the Science Fair started off strong. We had a great brotherly moment with Asmodeus and Leviathan, Mammon managed to win by still doing things his own way, and Satan shone in Beelzebub’s arc (RIP Beel, I’m so sorry.) Not to mention the slow reveal that something is going on with MC’s powers due to the time jumps and that there is unrest in the Devildom by those who don’t agree with Diavolo’s values and projects as the stand-in leader of the Devildom. We got a lot of information in between the lines, which is what Nightbringer does best.

On top of that, if the goal of the Science Fair was to a) introduce the biology component with the genes to aid in returning Simeon to exclusively a human, and b) culminate with the whole power imbalance that has the moon wanting to… fuck the MC or whatever, idk, changing the order in which the subjects are presented would have been beneficial. See the next section on WHAT DIDN’T WORK for more on this. 

SIMEON'S ARC

It was clear from the moment it was revealed that the MC was returning to the original timeline that Simeon would be in the spotlight in Nightbringer season 3. Simeon’s corruption arc (or redemption arc) was executed well for the most part. Simeon’s motives and desires were in line with his character, and there was growth in his decision to try and work towards becoming an angel again, because he would still be part of the group regardless of his species. 

Simeon saying “To me, it’s not so much ‘what I am’ as ‘who I’m with’ that matters” is a great way to summarize his little character arc. We’ve seen him thrive in caretaker roles (with Luke, of course), but it’s important that we acknowledge how badly he’s always wanted to be a part of the family the brothers have made for themselves. By refusing to become a demon, he’s fulfilling a caretaker role by providing company for Luke and Raphael, but he’s doing it on his own terms, understanding that he is loved no matter what. 

It was cute watching the cast worry so much about Simeon, and really give their all to try and help him. The explanation in Lesson 58 that the Ring of Light purified the demonic energy from Simeon was very important, because at first I was just like… Simeon, you can’t just say you aren’t going to be a demon anymore and be cured. It doesn’t work like that, honey. BUT THEN AGAIN, we don’t know that because we have no idea how ideology in the Celestial Realm has changed over the years. This ties in perfectly with one of the main goals of the Science Fair, and how it would have worked well if executed better.

RAPHAEL'S ARC

Oh, sweet Raphael, you were absolutely supposed to be integrated into the intimacy system at this point in the initial planning. I’m sure of it. I don’t have too much to say on this, other than that it was some nice exposure on how lonely the Celestial Realm is. Which makes you wonder: is the Celestial Realm pretty empty or is Raphael simply mourning the loss of his closer friends? Again, there have been thousands of years since the brothers fell to now, and yet Raphael hasn’t made too many important new relationships in the Celestial Realm? Is there a lack of angels? Is this because of science being considered treasonous to Father and it’s increase of relevance in the modern world? 

Questions aside, it was really nice to get a spotlight on Raphael and how much the rest of the cast mean to him/how much the rest of the cast care about him (lookin’ at you, Mephisto). 

WHAT DIDN'T WORK

PACING, FORESHADOWING AND CHARACTER SPOTLIGHTS

Big sigh. Let’s talk about the devil elephants in the room right now, shall we? The last 5 or so lessons in this season were SO RUSHED, it was laughable. Multiple characters got completely bulldozed by the looming end of the season, and it was so frustrating as a Leviathan fan to get hardly any quality time with him (sorry to Belphie fans too, my goodness). Again, this is not the fault of the writers at all, but I would like to present that the season should have ended with the fallout from Raphael’s breakdown in Babel. 

In my personal opinion, the main goal of season 3 should have been to return Simeon to human status, and the main goal of season 4 should have been to address the power imbalance due to the time jumping. As I mentioned earlier, Obey Me! has always excelled at providing information and foreshadowing between the lines. If the Devildom Biology and Devildom Studies competitions had been held earlier in the season (ideally after the Devildom Information Science finals), with outcomes indirectly related to Simeon’s genes and the magic of the moon, it would have noted something like genetics and historical magical surges in a manner that would foreshadow what is to come, hinted through shenanigans like with the trip to Meowcao. Then, season 3 would end with Raphael’s meltdown, Simeon deciding he doesn’t want to be a demon, and the Science Fair being put on hold momentarily for everyone to catch their bearings. Starting in season four, we could add so much more about MC’s protective magic surges, with Belphie and Satan inching closer to the truth about the time travel, and the magic balance being thrown off in the Devildom. Then, the entirety of what happened in lesson 60 would make much more sense and wouldn’t feel like it was just thrown at us out of nowhere. Not that the writers had any control over that, though. If only we were able to get one more season 😭

CELESTIAL REALM POINT OF VIEW

Someone in one of the servers I’m in mentioned that it’s annoying that we’re being given scientific solutions for moral consequences that were emphasized in the original game, and that’s why I think it’s possible the writers were trying to show the progression of science over many, many years. However, having no insight into how this progression is affecting the Celestial Realm creates confusion instead of intrigue. We are not given any clue to believe that “He” or “Father” has changed his stance on what is considered treason to the Celestial Realm. So to go from more ethical and moral reasons to cast beings out of the Celestial Realm, to sciencing away demon genes seems bizarre. Why would Simeon be welcomed back into the Celestial Realm because they forced the genes from his body? If he’s still being punished for a lack of loyalty to “Him”, then he hasn’t atoned for that at all. 

And then, if it was alluded to that the Celestial Realm was willing to incorporate science into their forgiveness system, that still opens so many more questions regarding the reason the brothers fell in the first place. Would they be cast out of the Celestial Realm now? Of course, they would absolutely choose to remain in the Devildom if given the choice, but if both Simeon and Lucifer and co. were punished for acts of love (familial or romantic or platonic, just love in general) and Simeon is welcomed back while still standing by his choices, some sort of acknowledgement of how things have changed for the better would help tidy things up. We all live and learn, so if that’s the argument that the Celestial Realm wants to make, it needs to be a bit more clear. 

Of course, Simeon does not officially return to angel status by the end of lesson 60, but he is invited to return to talk to Michael, so that’s kind of a big deal. Who knows what will happen next (if we continue on this story in another way, or something).

LOOSE ENDS

It’s time to talk about Nightbringer. I have… so many thoughts on who Nightbringer is, but there is no point in going into that because we will never, ever know, apparently. Leaving things vague is cool and all, but there’s a difference between “vague enough to theorize” and just “so vague it’s irrelevant”, and unfortunately the end of Nightbringer drifts into the territory of the latter. It no longer matters why MC was sent to the past to create a power imbalance (because isn’t that something–was MC sent to the past to make the pacts again and therefore cause a power imbalance that would draw the moon in and help a nameless demon usurp the throne/another realm gain an advantage over the Devildom?), because nothing ever comes of it, which is super unsatisfying. 

There are other loose ends of course, too, but I’m too tired from writing all this to think about that right now, so feel free to talk about it in the comments. 

FORCED LUCIFER KISS

Listen, I groaned so loud at this. I like Lucifer as a character but I cannot stand him as a romantic interest, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. Yes, the game absolutely supports polyamory and that’s cool and all, but I don’t wanna kiss Lucifer, okay. He is not part of my polycule and he never will be smh. 

(sir why did you have to smooch me right in front of Levi?! His little hummingbird heart can’t take it and we all know I only wanna be with him.)

ANYWAY, thank you for coming to my TEDTalk. I needed to get this all off my chest. I love Obey Me! so much and I believe this IP has so much potential. I truly hope we can be optimistic about the future, but I know that’s hard to do right now. I’m here if anyone needs to talk about Nightbringer ending, and I still intend to create content for these silly characters 💕

[black-bulls-mansion]

Ranking the Black Bulls in terms of their Cooking Skills:

Only pure skills, so a certain someone's cook sheep don't count.

Five-Stars Skills, literally never miss:

1. Grey — because when you grow up cooking for an overcritical, picky stepfamily, you end up building impressive skills, grey has an excellent eye for details and only lacks in confidence - which she's been working on, of course. 2. Charmy — it's never stated out loud, but charmy is rarely seen cooking on her own without her cooking cheep (who ranked 5th in the official list of best chefs in the kingdom), while she's skilled at making pretty much anything, she's clearly more eager to explore new places and discover new ingredients. 3. Zora — he's the type who can make a fancy meal out of average to below average ingredients, it's one of those skills he develops to take care of his usually absent father. 4. Yami — most likely to survive in a stranded island, canonically did so in an unfamiliar environment, his skills may be more basic and less fancy but he always delivers.

Great Skills, know their way around a kitchen:

5. Nero — it has been forever (literally) since she cooked anything but the second nature is there, however her taste buds aren't the same anymore so anything she makes turns out either too sweet, too bitter, or a secret third option that involves worms. 6. Asta — lily is canonically the fourth best chef in the kingdom, and she's very passionate about passing her skills to asta, yuno, and the other kids. 7. Magna — it starts as an honest attempt to burn off stress and cope with his anger issues, soon becomes a regular hobby of his that he tries to keep secret from everyone else. 8. Gordon — by-the-book chef, nothing objectively bad about his skills but anything he makes end up looking bizarre and, to most people, very unappetizing.

Basic Skills, can prepare at least one dish:

9. Luck — he had to cook for his ill mother, so he can make basic healthy dishes with rice, eggs, and vegetables. 10. Liebe — has most of the basics figured out when he lived with licita, though he's only good at making licita's, and by default his, favorite dish. 11. Finral — a baker, starts baking at a young age in hope to bond with langris, gets better at it over the years to impress girls, much to his dismay everyone calls his meals bland. 12. Nacht — well, he can improvise, but never truly cared enough to put the effort, had it not been for his devils doing their best to nag him into eating, he'd have starved a long ago.

Physically Incapable to Make Anything Edible:

13. Henry — uhh... yeah, never had a chance to cook, is content about it, but has a surprising knack for seasoning, topping, and tricks to make dishes more appealing... making him the perfect partner to gordon. 14. Vanessa — a fantastic expert at making cocktails, very horrible at everything else... like, really horrible, the mix sugar with salt and add wine to everything kind of horrible... objectively not the worst, but charmy considers her the absolute worst. 15. Gauche — between his early rich kid lifestyle and the shift into poverty and homelessness, he didn't consider cooking instead of, y'know - stealing, until late on his second year with the squad but, due to his critical nature, he's hilariously bad at it despite having a knack for giving helpful advices. 16. Noelle — another comically bad case, anything she puts her hands on become inedible at best and life threatening at worst, which she isn't aware of, because everyone collectively tolerates her cooking to support her (or has a death wish, in nacht's case).

[darkmagyk]

poorly timed confession / unexpected virgin - Percabeth?

I have no idea what this is. I had like four other ideas before I thought of the stupidest take on "poorly timed confession." It got a little long so I added the read more.

Things had been tense around camp. This was not new. Things had been tense around camp as long as Percy had been going. War would do that. The war of the gods, that they had, so very thankfully, won not 2 weeks ago, and the wars that crisscrossed the continent.

To say nothing of the Northern threat. That seemed one of the only two things’ people wanted to talk about around camp today. The viking sacks along the coasts and the rivers, and the fact that Percy and Anja had kissed and then disappeared beneath the lake for an hour.

Percy preferred that second one. He preferred everything having to do with Anja, his beloved. He hoped, when the camp season ended, he might accompany her home, so he could ask her father, properly, for her hand.

He’d shared his intentions with Grover and Chiron, both of whom approved. But he was working on the perfect time to ask Annabeth herself. He was not so worried about being rejected, but it was still a monumental proposal.

He spent the next week trying to work up the courage to ask her. But he got the feeling she had something she wanted to speak to him about too. There was a nervousness she got, if he asked after her family, or made reference to his mother’s lands. Which he found himself doing a great deal. No need to not make himself look like an opportune match for a girl such as Annabeth, who he knew came from grander origins then his in England. Though he wasn’t always clear on the specifics, beyond her father’s work as a scholar in a place called Bath he had stumbled upon during a quest. Though they were there anymore, according to Annabeth.

It only took a bit more encouragement from Chiron and Grover, but the day after the war funeral games ended, he had his courage.

He and Annabeth slipped away, seeking out solitude by the camps little lake and river, and looking up at the dark night sky.

Annabeth was not veiled now. She wore her wimple all around when they left the boarders of camp, and even often inside, now, but not tonight. Her blonde curls were falling out of her braids, almost glowing gold in the moonlight. And her eyes the purest silver.

He leaned in and kissed her. For he could not help it. And she met him in the middle. And then her hands started to wonder along his body, pushing his mantel out of the way, and then toward his shift, and then towards the bottom.

“I have to tell you something,” she said, and then pulled one of his hands towards her, bringing it to stop where her laces were. There was no mistaking her intentions then. Which made her confession somewhat clear.

“Are…are you not a maid?” he asked. It would not and could not matter to him. But he could think of no other reason she would agree to this here and now. Though he was certainly not going to protest.

She pulled back just a bit, though not before pulling off his outer tunic. All the closed at camp were died a bright red, nearly the color of an orange from the south.

“Of course I am,” She said, affronted for a second, before her pink lips curled into a teasing smile, “I shall be a pure as anything for you, my love. You might use me however you like best.”

“I cannot imagine I should like anything but you.” He promised.

“And all those other women?” She asked, a tease, “surely there are ladies Jacqufie who would not hesitate to give Lord Percy anything they asked.

Now it was his turn to look affronted, “Certainly, there are,” He could not argue her point, “But I would never ask such a thing of an young maid who is my families responsibility. We build castles to protect them, as you well know. What good would it do if there were enemies within as well as with out.”

“I have to tell you something,” Annabeth said again.

“And I you.” He said, but suddenly he was even more worried. This whole situation felt almost like a strange placation.

And he wondered, for a horrible, horrible moment, if perhaps she was already betrothed at home. If that was why she was willing to do this now.

And so in a rush, they spoke together.

“I wish to accompany you home and ask your father for your hand.”

“My family is among those viking all along the coasts and rivers. And I lead the party that sacked Mitchell’s castle in the spring.”

Well, that was not the confession he was expecting.

[immortalthunderstorm]

The Alicent-Larys Conondrum

I'm back with some thoughts™️ on the HOTD fandom's hot topics. This time - something I've seen discussed quite a lot and what seems to be a controversial topic - the dynamic between Larys and Alicent, and mostly how a lot of the blame gets shifted onto her. There's a general tendency of overt victim blaming when it comes to Alicent herself, and often situations in which she is subjected to trauma get twisted into her own shortcomings rather than those of her perpetrators. The marriage to Viserys is one example, but the same arguments are used for her scenes with Larys.

I thought I'd try and analyse it a bit more from Alicent's perspective, though I don't disagree that the show has left this incredibly dubious at times and I really think that e.g. the foot scene was unnecessary.

Obviously Matthew Needham already provided a pretty great take on Larys as a character and his perspective on the dynamic, so I won't get into that myself here, but recommend having a listen to what he has to say.

1. Alicent should have dismissed or reported Larys after she learned of his Harrenhal stunt

I actually think it makes perfect sense that Alicent doesn't dismiss Larys despite being horrified by his actions.

The earlier episodes of the season make a point of how Alicent is isolated and lonely in the Red Keep. She says herself, she has no friends, no real allies, her former companion lied to and 'betrayed' her, got her father fired and therefore left her without her last constant family member by her side. She is heavily traumatised, forced into a marriage she doesn't want, forced to birth child after child and mostly ignored or dismissed by her ailing husband. She is queen in all but name, her job is to look appropriate, make sure the courtiers are entertained, and most of all give the king children.

Before even Criston joins her, the only person who approaches her is Larys. He seems empathetic, talks to her openly (or so she thinks), pretends to care about her as a person. This is where she is probably most vulnerable, most alone. Of course she falls for it, I don't think anyone can realistically blame her for that, she's a lonely teen forced to be a mother in what is essentially a toxic environment. Plus it is Larys who tells her of Rhaenyra's 'betrayal', which turns out to be true, so in a way he 'proves' his loyalty to her by disproving Rhaenyra's.

Later on he is the one who supports her when she vents about Rhaenyra and her bastards, they have dinners together, an honest friend and sympathetic ear in a metaphorical snakepit. And then, he goes as far as killing his own family, something that Alicent is horrified by, but it shows just how far his capabilities stretch. He has a spy network, he can get her information no one else can, information that can give her shreds of power and influence. He can make things happen without anyone ever suspecting that he, and by implication her, was involved. Larys makes himself invaluable to her and is not easily replaced.

I do disagree that she has some great power over him as a lot of people like to claim. Larys would not confide in her if that would bring him in any great danger. Realistically, accusing him would be such a wild theory, plus the absolute no go of double kinslaying, plus he's a very high ranking Lord, I'm not actually sure people would believe her - she doesn't have proof either. Viserys has absolutely not had her back ever, he has the spine of a wet slice of bread, I doubt that he'd simply put him on trial and kill him (each High Lord is an asset to the crown and if he starts "randomly" beheading people that could cause problems, like Ned Stark, like Rickard Karstark (let's put Vaemond aside here because there should have been consequences)) because Alicent said so? All that on top of Viserys' general strategy of ignoring everything that could be a "political headache" to him, my confidence in him is quite low.

And again, why would Alicent rat Larys out? He benefits her and is her main ally at court. She is shocked at how far he went, but in the end it did get rid of both Harwin and Lyonel, which caused Rhaenyra to leave and Otto to resume his position as Hand. Alicent did not condone the murders and would not have sanctioned them had he asked - but to her he is loyal beyond doubt and most importantly only to her (in her head) - later when he offers to give her Lucerys' eye she openly refuses, BUT she acknowledges how far he is willing to go for her. She'd be stupid to rat him out that would only disadvantage her.

2. The Foot Scene

Now in episode 9, Alicent is in a highly stressful situation. Aegon is to be crowned after she spent the entire day fretting he was missing or dead in a ditch somewhere, she had to fight her father and essentially most of the council not to send assassins after Rhaenyra, she had to find Aegon first to be the voice of reason to him, she is clearly distraught over Viserys death and scared for her children.

This is not the time and place for mistakes, every move has to count and nothing can slip through the cracks. Larys knows this, and he knows that he and his spies are going to be very important in the coup to come, and he knows he is the only one who can provide this. So does Alicent. She may be queen, but in actuality she wields very little power in this instance. The green council scene showed that they plotted behind her back, her father most of all, and clearly don't take her very seriously.

Essentially in episode 9, she's trying to outrace Otto and establish herself as more than a pawn. In a time where war is all but inevitable and she has enemies both outside and within the Red Keep's walls, and her children's lives are at stake - how could she refuse Larys who can provide her with valuable intelligence? By giving in to his "demands" she learns that her handmaiden is a spy which is a very important revelation.

It's hard to try and make sense of how their power dynamic switched to such extremes, we don't know whether it's happened before, in which capacity and for what. Clearly she is aware of what he wants, but how did that come up? How did this develop? We can't know so I refrain from making assumptions for any other times.

Her symbolically selling her body again for all this is a price she is willing to pay, but it doesn't make it any less of a SA (and yes, I've seen a lot of people dismissing this as consensual since she willingly took off her shoes for this. It's giving 'she asked for it'). Alicent is deeply disgusted, she can't look at him, she probably already has a very twisted view on herself and her body as something that belongs to others and he abuses that. But she indulges him because she realistically doesn't really have any other choice. He has made himself irreplaceable.

This doesn't mean it's consensual. Consent would mean that Alicent did this because she wants to, finds some enjoyment in it, and hasn't been pressured into it. But that's far from the truth. She does it because she feels like there's no other way for her to get this valuable intelligence, so she endures it despite clearly being uncomfortable and disgusted. I am so tired of everything being blamed on her just because people don't like or understand her character.