#gonna come back to this tomorrow and see if it’s comprehensible

[youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal]

Thinking about Soren being the one to initiate 99% of the touching scenes we see on screen of him and Corvus. Even in season 6. There’s a handful of charged moments where Corvus lays a hand on Soren’s shoulder, but that’s about it for physical touches initiated by Corvus in S6E2.

Even when Corvus is being vulnerable and telling Soren about how he’s a good man with a big heart, Corvus is downright shocked when Soren hugs him.

Now, chances are, we all know The Podcast™️ Jesse Inocalla was on where he discusses the theme of acceptance in Love, War, and Mushrooms (If you haven’t heard about this, do yourself a favor and listen to it ASAP. As a person who doesn’t usually do podcasts, it’s very worth it).

Basically, Jesse argues that in the episode Corvus accepts that he genuinely cares for Soren, in whatever manner that may be. Platonic, romantic, what have you. Corvus sees Soren for all that he is, not just the facets of his personality most others see him for.

I think it’s interesting how after S6E2, the next time we will really see them together will be what we can assume is S7E1. We left S6E2 with Corvus slowly accepting a hug from Soren (and of course there’s also The Look™️ and going into the meeting room together in S6E4, but I digress). Now, in S7E1, Corvus appears to be initiating their reunion.

And I feel like it has a lot to do with his realization in the mushroom forest that Soren is important to him.

[mokeonn]

I think my brain has become absolutely free from any sort of internet sludge after I went outside more, talked to people outside my age group, and played dinosaurs with a 5 year old. Like, oh?? You expect the creator of the post you're reading to have knowledge of all things related to the topic they made a casual post about? Skill issue. I understand that's a human behind the screen and not an information machine, and I'm gonna go make tea in a kitty cat tea pot.

[urrockstar-xe]

3 teen boys vs 1 pretty girl - j.m x fem!reader

posted feb 10th, 2024 10:24 pm

heres another belated v day post!! :D im working my way up guys look at me go, im running out of valentine themed songs though if you have recs and see this before the 14th pls send them to me!!

summary: John B and Pope have to help out JJ when he's under too much stress over a pretty girl, not proofread, use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.0k

JJ wasn’t one for romantics, never was, never will be. He’s never witnessed real romance outside of TV shows and movies, although now that he has, with his best friend falling in love, JJ still just didn’t quite get it.

Until he met You, of course, because every sweet, enchanting, and cheesy love story has to start with the player meeting the one.

The one that broke down every little wall with a soft smile and pretty eyes. The one who saves everything while simultaneously ruining it all. 

At least in JJ’s eyes. 

“Dude, just admit you like her” Pope’s words went in one ear and out the other as JJ groaned into the old pillow, dramatically falling onto John B’s couch. “I think he did, just not in a comprehensible way” John B chuckled, shoving JJ’s feet off of his lap.

JJ groaned once more before shifting positions and sitting up on the opposite end of JB. “I don’t know what it is, man. She comes in, introduces herself with a pretty little voice, batting her pretty little eyelashes, smiling a pretty little smile on her pretty little face.” JJ’s voice was laced with irritation, his friends just laughed in response. 

“I think JJ thinks Y/n is pretty, Pope.” “No way, really?” Another round of laughter between the two boys made JJ scoff before chuckling a bit as well, he rubbed at his eyes. 

JJ’s laughter ended with a sigh, “She’s makin’ me crazy.” John B smiled at his friend, nudging his shoulder. “They have that effect huh?” JB remarked, sharing a knowing look with Pope before Pope pulled JJ up off the couch.

“What am I gonna do? I mean, I gotta really wow this girl, man I mean, she’s perfect” JJ gushed as he stared back at his friend who merely smiled back and shook his head. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, why don’t you go work that out with John B and I’ll continue studying.” Pope proposed the idea as JB stood up, patting JJ on the back before nearly dragging him out of the chateau by the back of his hoodie. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna make sure you get your girl by tomorrow night”

JJ and John B loaded up into the Twinkie, heading straight for the closest convenience store. JB distracted his lovelorn friend with loud music that the two teenage boys happily and obnoxiously sang along to. Once they finally pulled up to the store and went inside, John B led JJ to the aisle filled with red and pink colored cardboard, and heart-shaped candies.

“Dude, I don’t even know what kind of candy she likes,” JJ sighed, both boys scanning the wall of options. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.” John B mumbled. 

“It’s all just one big guessing game-” John B got cut off by the store clerk noticing them. 

“Maybank, I better not catch you stealin’ nothin'.” His gruffy booming voice caught their attention, heads turning towards the sound in sync. “Course not, Mr. Wade!” JJ waved, a small smile on his lips as the clerk shook his head and went back to his initial goal, leaving them alone once more. 

JJ watched as John B grabbed one of the blue baskets and started throwing random candy boxes into it. “What are you doing?” JJ furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s gotta like at least one of these, let’s just buy it all” John B shrugged, handing the basket to JJ who turned his attention towards the box full of small stuffed animals. 

JJ picked up a small cat before looking at the little dog holding a love heart. “Do you think she’s more of a dog person or a cat person?” “Which one do you want her to be?” 

JJ abandoned the cat and threw the dog in the basket, just as John B grabbed a pink bag covered in white hearts and threw it on top of their Valentine's treasures. 

“This should be enough right?” John B asked, earning a slightly concerned look from JJ. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the professional here? I’m just the student!” JJ followed him to the counter and helped throw everything in front of Mr. Wade. 

“JJ, I don’t think people see either of us and think of the word professional.” and of course, he couldn’t argue with that.

JJ was left to his own devices the rest of the night, John B had a date with Sarah. 

He did his best at setting up the bag of goodies, before deciding it was good enough because nothing would be as perfect as you no matter how much he tried. 

Finally, Wednesday had come and right around the time you made it outside of your school building you were met with the sight of the Twinkie, eyes watching it as you laughed at something one of your friends said. You said your goodbyes before making your way to the old van just as JJ Maybank came out of the driver’s side and leaned on the passenger’s door. 

“Thought you dropped out, JJ.” You smiled at the blond, who happily mirrored you as he approached him. “You know, gotta come back every once in a while, see how the place is holdin’ up without me.” He shrugged, earning a chuckle from you.

JJ cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I wanted to surprise you. Ask you to be my Valentine.” Your smile got softer, that sweet look on your face almost making JJ chicken out but now he was too deep in. 

“So ask me,” you said softly, after a moment of waiting for him to continue. JJ laughed, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, sorry. Will you be my Valentine, pretty lady?” His voice was quieter than you were used to hearing, you couldn’t help but cover your face as you felt heat spread across your cheeks. JJ chuckled at your reaction before leaning forward just enough to remove your hands from your face. 

“Whadya say?” You smiled at him as he held onto your hands, whispering now that you were so close. “I’ll be your Valentine any day of the week, J.” He smiled back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of your hands and opening the passenger door, revealing the very same bag that was currently overflowing. 

“Awh, babe.” You smiled at the sight, picking up the little dog plush. 

“Hope you’re a dog person,” He said, grabbing the bag’s handles so you could get in the van. 

“And that you have a severe sweet tooth.” 

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

"hi, I'm gojo, your favorite sorcerer, and I think shoko is gonna be the drunkest tonight."

if shoko ieiri has one undeniable talent, it's bringing people together—though her plans often border on catastrophic. so when yaga steps out of class to take a call, you aren't surprised to see a sly grin spread menacingly across her face. turning in her seat, she wastes no time laying out this week's plan—meticulously crafted, as always.

she breaks it down into a comprehensive, four-step process:

convince her older cousin to buy her alcohol tomorrow during her family’s visit

sneak said alcohol into the school and stash it under her bed

host a party in her dorm friday night while yaga is away overnight

blackout.

you and gojo exchange amused glances, already on board. shoko's plans are always a healthy mix of brilliance and disaster. geto, predictably, looks hesitant.

"is this really a good idea?" he asks, brow furrowing. "what if something goes wrong? most of the tokyo staff will be gone with yaga. no one will be here to help."

shoko leans back smugly, her arms crossed. "and that's why I'm a seasoned expert in reversed curse techniques. relax, geto. that's literally my whole thing."

geto rolls his eyes but doesn't argue further.

"don't fret, suguboo!" gojo interjects, puffing out his chest dramatically. "they call me the strongest for a reason. I'll take care of you when you inevitably get wasted." he flutters his snowy-white eyelashes for emphasis.

geto deadpans. "me?"

"you heard me. waaastee—" gojo drags out the word, but the sound of yaga’s approaching footsteps cuts him off.

you react instinctively, smacking the back of his head. "quiet, idiot."

by friday, the plan had unfolded without a hitch. well, almost—gojo got smacked up several more times for being oblivious, and shoko nearly had a heart attack when one of the shopping bags threatened to burst under the weight of the bottles on school grounds. still, by the time you helped her stash the loot, everything was ready for what she dubbed "operation blackout."

at 9:44 pm, shoko's message pops up in the group chat:

Ieiri Shoko | Today at 9:44 PM evrybdy head over!! 🥂

when you open the door to her dorm, you’re immediately struck by the startling transformation. the normally cluttered space was spotless, the floor gleaming as if polished. a low table sits in the center of the room, draped in a burgundy tablecloth and surrounded by eight matching cushions. twinkling lights crisscross the ceiling, and the scent of something delicious wafts from the kitchenette, where shoko is bent over the stove.

utahime stands at the counter, pouring drinks from a tall pitcher into glasses. an empty sake bottle sits beside her.

"wow, you aren't playing around, sho," you say, stepping closer.

shoko spins around, startled. "shit, don't sneak up on me like that! almost dropped a bowl."

you smirk, peeking at the tray she's prepared. perfectly arranged katsudon bowls—crispy fried pork over rice, garnished with scallions.

"well, don't just stand there," shoko says, snapping you out of your awe. "make yourself useful. operation blackout starts with a heavy meal and a sake cocktail to warm us up."

"yes, ma'am." you salute before obediently grabbing the tray carefully from her outstretched hands to place at the table.

the gang filters in one by one, each person reacting with impressed remarks at the eloquent setup.

"I thought this was going to be a trashy frat-party experience," mei mei said, sliding into the last open seat. "this actually warrants my attendance."

utahime scoffs, "backhanded compliments are your specialty, huh?"

"I mean," gojo chimes in, grinning, "considering shoko's goal of total blackout, I figured we'd be doing keg stands before forcing suguru to let us ride rainbow dragon to mcdonald's at three am."

"as if," geto mutters.

nanami raises an eyebrow. "keg stands, gojo really? this isn't some coming-of-age teen drama, you watch way too much tv."

gojo glares, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "you never know."

haibara jumps in, grinning brightly. "kento, hush! anyway, great job tonight, shoko! this is amazing."

"I second that," you say, pulling out your phone. "and to commemorate the night, let's make a bet. let's each record a video saying who we think will get the drunkest tonight. we'll review the footage later to see who was right. deal?"

with this group's competitive streak, everyone immediately agrees.

you prop your phone against the bathroom sink, angling it perfectly. with a satisfied nod, you return to the others in the dorm. "alright, who wants to start?"

"ME! ME! ME! ME!," gojo's hand shoots up, waving frantically.

you catch nanami's exaggerated eye roll and laugh, "alright, satoru, the floor is yours."

00:03 ==⬤---------------------- 04:01  ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻  gojo: "...and we're live! hi, I'm gojo, your favorite sorcerer, and I think shoko is gonna be the drunkest tonight. I mean, c'mon—she's literally an aspiring alcoholic!"

geto: "hello, viewers. geto suguru here. my prediction? gojo will be the drunkest. sure, he's got impressive stamina in combat, but let's be real—that doesn't translate to drinking."

you: "hey, y'all! it's me. so, I know gojo's gonna be the drunkest tonight. he's giving strong lightweight energy."

nanami: "to whom it may concern, my name is nanami kento, and I believe yu haibara will be the drunkest tonight. right now, I confidently estimate my prediction to be of 70% certainty."

haibara: "haibara here! after careful consideration, I think our dear host, shoko ieiri, will be the drunkest tonight. she literally said she wants to black out!"

shoko: "the moment you've all been waiting for—ieiri shoko: sorcerer, host, chef, and event planner extraordinaire. holding for applause... okay, I'm predicting utahime or gojo will be the drunkest tonight. they're both way too hot-headed and competitive."

utahime: "h-hi! I'm iori utahime, and I think gojo's gonna be the drunkest tonight. he's always bragging about being the strongest, but that can only get him so far. so I guarantee he'll be the weakest tonight."

mei mei: "they saved the best for last. I'm mei mei, and I think sweet utahime is going to be the drunkest tonight. low tolerance vibes. and with that, let's reconvene later for updates..." 04:01 =================⬤ 04:01  ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

when mei mei returns your phone, shoko has already begun her toast to the evening. "here's to a messy, sloppy, drunken night," she says, raising her glass. "may I be passed out on the grass by four am!"

utahime doubles over laughing as everyone clinks glasses. the bitter, tangy scent of sake fills the air as the group shouts, "cheers!"

the conversation drifts into speculative territory as gojo leads a heated discussion about principal yaga's alleged secret love child. evidence cited includes muffled crying or squealing sounds overheard from his office and trashed crib packaging. the theory dies down as the meal takes center stage. the katsudon, perfectly seasoned and artfully plated, is a hit—a warm, savory comfort that pairs too well with the strong drinks.

plates empty and glasses drained, you observe the scene. gojo, is even chattier than usual, his words tumbling over each other at lightning speed. haibara's cheeks glow tomato red, and utahime twirls a braid around her finger, sneaking glances at shoko. very, very interesting.

meanwhile, shoko, geto, mei mei, and nanami seem relatively unaffected—or are just better at hiding it. you decide it's time to turn up the chaos.

"guys!" you tap your glass with a pair of chopsticks, drawing their attention. "we still have four bottles of tequila to get through. who's up for a drinking game of truth or dare?"

the suggestion is met with enthusiastic cheers from shoko, gojo, mei mei, and utahime. haibara looks excited but hesitant, while geto and nanami exchange weary glances, clearly bracing for disaster.

"as host," shoko declares, waving her chopsticks like a wand, "I command full participation. let me pour some shots. who needs a mixed drink?"

shoko and utahime get to work. plates are cleared and replaced with a neat line of shots. utahime's heavy-handed pours prompt a dramatic gasp from mei mei.

"damn, 'hime," mei mei says, inspecting the shots. "you trying to kill us?"

shoko returns with two mixed drinks, sliding them toward haibara and nanami. "classiest of the group," you mutter with a grin.

you smooth your hands over your hair, leaning forward to begin the game. "alright, let's start this right. host sho—truth or dare?"

"dare, duh," shoko replies instantly.

"hmmm..." you glance at gojo. "what did you bring as a chaser?"

with a flourish, gojo pulls a bottle from beneath the table. "strawberry ramune, my favorite~ why?"

"perfect. shoko, I dare you to drink gojo's chaser."

shoko grabs the bottle without hesitation, but just as she tilts it, you interrupt.

"oh, by the way—gojo adds five packets of sugar to sweeten his ramune."

the table erupts in laughter. nanami smirks, and shoko sputters as she swallows the disgustingly sweet concoction.

"blegh!" shoko slams the bottle down, grimacing. "gojo, who does this shit?!"

reaching for a shot, she drowns it in one go—and then grabs another.

"two shots to chase ramune?" haibara asks, incredulous as he shrugs off his sweater. "that bad?"

"it was that bad," shoko confirms, her voice muffled as she pours herself another drink.

"let's..." shoko wipes her tongue with a napkin, grimacing. "let's just move on. I'm asking... geto. truth or dare?"

"after witnessing... whatever that was," geto gestures vaguely toward shoko's earlier tequila ordeal, "I'm gonna play it safe and go with truth."

shoko grins mischievously, tilting her head as she looks geto up and down. "okayyy," she drawls, clearly deep in thought. "hmm... got it! you're the only guy here with ear piercings—such a bad boy," she teases, earning a visible cringe from geto. "so my question is: do you have any other piercings we don't know about?"

you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. as close as you are to geto, you already know the answer. he's going to drink.

sure enough, geto opens his mouth to respond but then, without a word, picks up a shot and downs it in one smooth motion.

"WHAT?!" shoko shrieks, half outraged, half delighted.

"naughty," mei mei murmurs, leaning her chin into her palm, her smirk growing wider.

"sugu's such a tease. its just a—" gojo starts, but you slam your hand over his mouth before he can spill the details.

"don't you dare," you hiss.

gojo bites your palm in retaliation, but you refuse to let go, glaring at him.

geto clears his throat, grimacing slightly at the tequila's burn. "and there's my cue to move on," he says, brushing past the topic. "since satoru seems eager to air out my business—truth or dare?"

you cautiously release your hand from gojo's mouth, glancing at the raw bite marks on your palm. gojo scratches his chin dramatically, as if pondering some great mystery, then grins, his azure eyes lighting up.

"dare! cuz I'm not a pussy".

geto laughs, unbothered by the jab. "alright, satoru. this one's easy—I dare you to eat all the scallions you picked off your food."

the table collectively turns to look at gojo's napkin, overflowing with at least twenty pieces of scallion he meticulously removed.

"suguruuuu," gojo whines, slumping in defeat.

geto merely slides him a shot, patting his fluffy white hair. gojo glares at the drink, nose wrinkling as he takes a tentative sip. he shudders visibly, sticking out his tongue. "so gross."

as he sets the glass down, his eyes narrow. he scans the group, zeroing in on utahime, who's laughing a little too hard at this expense.

"utahime," he announces, and her grin instantly vanishes. "yeah, not so funny now, huh? truth or dare?"

she groans. "ugh, truth"

gojo clasps his hands together like an evil mastermind, his grin nothing short of diabolic. "who here, out of all of us, would you say is the weakest link in jujutsu society?"

"uncalled for," you mutter, yanking on his ear like a scolding parent.

"stop picking on her, satoru." shoko adds, rolling her eyes.

but utahime surprises everyone by taking it in stride. she lifts a shot, downs it without hesitation, and wipes her chin with a satisfied smirk. "moving on. your turn," she says, turning to you with a pointed look. "truth or dare?"

"dare," you reply confidently. "give me a juicy one."

utahime exchanges a mischevious look with mei mei before whispering something in her ear.

"got it," mei mei says, sitting upright. "give us your phone. utahime and I get to send one text to anyone we want—and you can't take it back until the end of the night."

you take a steadying breath, weighing your options. it's only utahime and mei mei, you reason. how bad could it be? if it were gojo, the tequila would already be halfway to your lips. finally, you unlock your phone and slide it across the table.

"go ahead. do your worst."

mei mei snatches it up gleefully, her fingers flying across the screen. you pointedly look away, unwilling to torture yourself by imagining what chaos they're unleashing.

"alright," you announce. "let's keep the game rolling. haibara—truth or dare?"

haibara flushes an even deeper shade of red than before, the color creeping onto his neck. "I'm a little nervous," he admits shyly. "truth."

"don't be nervous," you say with mock sincerity. "we're your closest friends! we'd never judge or be offended by anything you say or do. that said... who here is your least favorite person?"

haibara gasps, clutching his chest. "noooo! I can't answer that—it's too mean! I love and respect you all equally!"

nanami, ever the calm voice of reason, places a gentle hand on haibara's and nudges it toward his drink. "take two sips, yu," he says simply.

you chuckle as geto flicks your forehead. "harsh, but fair."

haibara obeys, taking two large gulps. he sets his glass down, visibly tipsy now, and beaming at nanami.

"okay, nanamiiin~" haibara slurs slightly, drawing out the nickname, "truth or dare?"

nanami raises a brow but humors him with a small smile. "dare."

"alrighty," haibara begins, leaning in conspiratorially. "for some backstory—I heard you singing in the shower a couple weeks ago when you thought no one was around."

the table collectively perks up.

"so," haibara continues, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper that's still loud enough for everyone to hear, "I dare you to sing for us. don't be shy, ken. you have a beautiful voice."

the group falls into stunned silence. nanami's ears turn bright red as the color spreads across his cheeks. it's possibly the first time you've ever seen him blush.

after a pause, he clears his throat and picks up his glass. "you got me there, yu," he says smoothly, before chugging the rest of his drink in one go.

haibara's face falls, his disappointment palpable. "aww, but I really wanted to hear it!"

nanami leans over, resting an arm on haibara's shoulder. you catch a faint, "later," murmured under his breath.

and with that, he nods toward mei mei, signaling the game to continue.

"alright, mei mei, truth or dare?" nanami asks, his tone measured, as always.

"dare, of course," mei mei replies smoothly, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.

nanami straightens his collar, clearly crafting something calculated. "I dare you to do your best impression of someone at this table. if we don't guess it right, you drink. no talking allowed."

"regulated and thorough," mei mei says with a smirk. "I would expect nothing less from you, nanami. very well, I'll begin."

she stands, her violet off-the-shoulder sweater swaying with her movement. turning her back to the group, she pauses for dramatic effect. then, with a sharp turn of her head, she flutters her eyelashes, blows an exaggerated kiss, sticks her tongue out, and pretends to push up invisible glasses.

haibara is the first to pipe up, "I got it! 's gojo-senpai, that's really g'd, mei mei!"

"how the actual fuck is that me?!" gojo exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

mei mei curtsies, her smirk widening. "correct, haibara. it was an easy choice—gojo's the most dramatic one here."

the group hums in agreement. shoko, sipping from her drink, adds dryly, "since we guessed it right away, shouldn't gojo drink? he's technically the loser."

"you can't just make up rules, sho!" gojo protests, looking around for support. his gaze lands on geto, who shrugs and slides him a shot.

"sounds fair to me, satoru. unless... you can't handle it?" geto teases, his grin lazy but pointed.

with a theatrical sigh, gojo downs the shot, grimacing as he does. nanami ever the thoughtful one, disappears into the kitchen, returning with a cocktail for himself and glasses of water for both gojo and haibara. gojo accepts his water with a reluctant nod, taking slow sips while you rub soothing circles on his back.

"your kindness is admirable," mei mei drawls, watching you with amused eyes. "but since you're being so tenderhearted, I'll send some chaos your way. truth or dare?"

you immediately withdraw your hand, straightening in your seat. "truth."

mei mei leans forward, violet eyes glinting mischievously. "I’m feeling messy, so… who would you fuck, marry, and kill among your fellow third-years? choose wisely."

the table erupts into a mix of gasps and laughter. haibara nearly chokes on his drink, and nanami quietly hands him his water. all eyes turn to you, expectant.

you lean back, arms crossed. "alright, I'll answer with my whole chest. first, marry shoko—duh. she’s special-grade wife material. she cooks, cleans, and nurses you back to health."

utahime's grin falters slightly, but you press on. "fuck suguru—" you gesture toward him, "I mean, look at him. plus, we all know he swallows."

the table howls with laughter as shoko nearly falls out of her seat. geto arches an eyebrow at you, looking both flattered and mildly concerned.

"and I guess that leaves gojo, so... kill him." you shrug. "though honestly, I don't even know how I'd manage that."

gojo clutches his chest, aghast. "why me?!" you just admitted you can't even kill me yourself! and what, am I unattractive to you?!"

you roll your eyes. "relax, bookie. you're fine as hell, but you're more 'all-up-in-your-face' fine. suguru's more... nonchalant fine."

the group hums in agreement, fueling gojo's indignation. "what does that even mean?!" he whines, flailing.

geto places a calming hand on his arm, his voice even. "relax, satoru. I have my own concerns—" his gaze flickers to you. "—about the swallowing comment."

feigning nonchalance, you glance at your wrist as if checking an invisible watch. "oh would you look at the time? moving on. shoko, truth or dare?"

"dare," shoko says immediately, lifting the tequila bottles. "and as host, I declare a new rule: from now on everyone drinks every turn, no exceptions."

a collective groan rises from the trio of haibara, gojo, and utahime, all clearly tipsy. you, mei mei, geto, and nanami grunt or nod in agreement.

"lovin’ that energy sho, so to up the ante," you say, digging into your pocket, "I dare you to smoke this." you toss a poorly rolled, but fat blunt onto the table. "and take a shot after. getting crossed should help you reach tonight's goal."

shoko's eyes light up as she snatches it greedily. "the girls are really coming through tonight! you're a godsend."

gojo scoffs. "godsend? how? she brought literal drugs to your party! isn't it called the devil's lettuce?"

shoko snorts, rummaging for a lighter. "this, from the guy who probably can't even stand up straight."

"I just don't feel like standing right now," gojo mumbles, pouting.

shoko gives him a withering look. "fine. truth or dare, satoru?"

"well, now I know what the dare is, so... truth."

"alright. who at this table have you had a sex dream about?"

the table falls into stunned silence. nanami chokes on his drink, and gojo freezes, eyes wide as they dart around the group. his gaze lingers a bit too long on you and geto before he quickly looks down, blushing furiously.

shoko smirks, satisfied. "definitely tabling that reaction to circle back to later."

gojo groans, face hidden behind his hands. "'m drinking. everyone drink."

you clink your glass with geto's, smirking. he wasn't fooling anyone.

shoko makes her way to the sliding backdoor, tossing a casual remark over her shoulder. “I'll be back in a flash—just gonna step outside to finish my dare. keep it going, and don't forget my shot when I get back." she winks before stepping out and taking a seat on the back steps.

inside, gojo hiccups, his high-pitched squeak drawing laughter around the table. his cheeks flush a shade brighter. you smirk, knowing your prediction about his tolerance was proving accurate.

clearing his throat, he wobbles a little before announcing, "who'd I wanna choose next... hmm... nanamin~! my dearesst kouhai, trussted friend, and bl—"

"I'm afraid to let you finish that sentence," nanami cuts him off dryly, already raising his glass. "so, I'll just drink. everybody?"

the table burst into laughter, raising their glasses to join him. haibara clunks his cup down a little too hard before slumping over, his head landing heavily on nanami's shoulder, some tequila dribbling from his lips onto nanami's sleeve.

nanami sighs, staring down at the mess before resigning himself. "haibara, maybe stick to mini-sips for your next few drinks. you can't even hold yourself up anymore."

haibara hums in drowsy agreement, leaning further into nanami, who chuckles heartily—a rare sound that surprises everyone. turning to geto, nanami raises a brow. "geto-senpai, truth or dare?"

geto, looking unbothered as usual, undoes his bun, letting his inky-black hair spill over his shoulders. he tucks a loose strand behind his gauged ear with a casual flick. "dare, nanamin~."

nanami considers this, his words tumbling over each other as the alcohol dulls his normally precise tone. "how about I... you... okay, I dare you to ride your manta ray curse around the school right now."

geto blinks, waiting for a punchline that never comes. "wait, you're serious? now? like, right now?"

"I don't know how I could be any clearer."

"dick," gojo mutters.

geto shakes his head, airing out his shirt. "as much as I would—and have, by the way—I think that might qualify as drunk driving. or, you know, drunk flying."

"or drunk swimming," you chime in.

"semantics." geto waves it off. "fine, everybody drink."

at this point, the alcohol is catching up with you. tilting your head back to take your shot makes the room swim a little. you fan yourself, suddenly flushed. gojo notices, leaning close to blow cool air onto your face like a fan.

you giggle, slurring, "satoru smells like str'berriesss~."

geto shakes his head at the chaos and turns his attention to utahime, whose head was face down on the table. "utahime, get up. truth or dare?"

utahime rolls her head sluggishly to the side, revealing a face flushed deep red. "fucking dare."

"language," geto teased with a mock pout. "there's no need to cuss. let's bring out that sweet side of yours. I dare you to kiss shoko when she comes back."

utahime shoots up, wide-eyed. "what?! k-kiss—shoko?!"

"that is what I said," geto replies, calm as ever.

mei mei nudges utahime, smirking. "do it, and I'll finish that paperwork for your mission on monday."

after a moment of hesitation, utahime grabs her shot, muttering, "fine. fuck it," before tossing it back. she slumps over dramatically.

the backdoor slides open just then, shoko reappearing with a dreamy sway. her eyes bloodshot and reeking of weed, she gives a languid nod when you ask, "damn, sho. you killed it, huh?"

she slumps into her chair, blinking slowly. "soooo, where are we?"

utahime stiffens but manages to squeak out, "my dare is... to kiss you."

"oh." shoko's lips curl into a lazy smile. "'kay. go ahead." she tilts her face. presenting her cheek.

utahime leans in, delivering the quickest peck possible.

"boo," geto jeers.

"yeah! boo!!!" gojo joins, cut off by another hiccup.

"tomato, tomato, tomato," you tease.

shoko blinks in confusion, looking one breath away from falling asleep. haibara's muffled voice comes from nanami's shoulder, "s'not the kiss we's looking f'r. try again—on th' lips." he clumsily raises his hands in a heart shape.

shoko turns back to utahime with a sleepy "'kay," puckering her lips and closing her eyes.

utahime hesitates, side-eyeing the group before her expression softens. smitten, she closes her eyes and leans in. their lips meet in a soft peck, but shoko isn't done. she grabs utahime's jaw, pulling her into a loud, smacking kiss.

"arrgh."

everyone turns to gojo, who is clutching his stomach. he gags loudly.

"what the fu—gojo, are you okay?!" geto asks, concerned.

"arrgh, aargh—"

"are you seriously gagging?" you ask, wide-eyed.

he sputters, cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk before bolting for the bathroom. the door slams shut behind him, and moments later, the unmistakable sound of vomiting echoes.

the table sits frozen. shoko and utahime remains in their pose, hands still cradling each other's faces. the faint sound of retching fills the silence.

geto breaks the tension with a deadpan, "so, gojo's homophobic."

from the bathroom comes a strained yell, "'M NOT HOMOPHOBIC! it was just bad timing! I've never drunk befor—"

he gags again.

nanami buries his face in his hands. "jesus."

geto stands. "I've got him." he slips into the bathroom after gojo.

you push yourself up, retrieving water and chips from the kitchen. "I'll give him a hand," you say, heading for the bathroom. "sounds like he needs it."

the fluorescent bathroom light buzzes faintly, its harsh glow making your head pound as you step inside. gojo is bent over the toilet, panting heavily, his white hair sticking out in a chaotic mess. geto is knelt beside him, one hand rubbing circles into his back, murmuring softly, "you're okay, satoru. just breathe."

you ease down onto the cold tile floor beside them, your hand brushing gojo's sweaty bangs off his forehead. "you'll feel better soon," you say gently.

after another minute, gojo finally stops heaving. he reaches up with a trembling hand to flush the toilet, the sound of rushing water echoing in the small space.

uncapping a water bottle, you tilt it to his lips, letting him take a few cautious gulps. then you nudge geto over slightly and lean your back against the base of the toilet. gojo groans before collapsing across your laps, his head resting on geto's thigh and his chest presses into yours.

"the room is spinning, guys," gojo mumbles, voice hoarse. "make it stop".

geto smooths his palm over gojo's cheek, his voice low and soothing. "I know, satoru. just close your eyes and focus on your breathing."

reaching down, you find gojo's hand and lace your fingers with his, pulling it to his chest. you trace small circles over his knuckles. "you're okay, satoru," you murmur. "this happens to everyone."

gradually, his body softens in your hold. his breathing evens out as his eyelids flutter shut. geto hums a low, calming tune, and you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I think he's out 'ru," you whisper.

geto's arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. "always looking after you two," he says quietly. "you owe me."

you snort, muffled against his chest. "'m comple'ly fine though!" but your own head was spinning, and the warmth of geto's hand tracing your arm lulls you toward sleep.

outside the bathroom, nanami notices haibara ceasing all movement, slumping lifelessly against his shoulder. concerned, he asks shoko for permission to use her room. once inside, he gently lays haibara on the bed, propping him up with pillows. fetching a glass of water and some bread from the kitchen, nanami coaxes small bites and sips out of him.

by the time haibara's color returns and his glassy eyes gain some clarity, nanami feels his own nerves ease. haibara grabs his wrist, tugging him onto the bed. reluctantly, nanami allows it, settling beside him. haibara's breath evens out as he drifts off, his forehead presses into nanami's side. nanami sighs, resigning himself to the makeshift role of caretaker once again.

shoko and utahime decide the night isn't over and stumble toward shoko's small couch with utahime's speaker in hand. shoko fiddles with her ipod shuffle browsing through her music gallery. she settles on her indie playlist, and excitedly stands on the couch pulling utahime clumsily up with her. what starts as vibing out quickly ends with them passed out together, limbs tangled and mouths agape, soft snores punctuating the quiet.

as the only one remaining at the table, mei mei is busy with her usual mischief. having memorized your phone's passcode earlier, she unlocks it again and frowns at the failed transaction she made from your dare earlier. not one to be deterred, she fiddles with the wi-fi and tries resending the payment. her face lights up moments later when a notification buzzes on the screen.

Mei Mei | Today at 2:14 AM this is an automated message. your apple cash amount of $[100.00] was processed successfully.

she smirks, scrolling through her personal wishlist for potential splurges. after adding a few items to her cart, she looks around the room, noting. the rhythmic snores of her friends. satisfied as the night's clear victor, she turns to your phone's camera and swipes to video, ready to document her triumph.

00:06 ==⬤---------------------- 01:22  ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻  mei mei (whispering): "once again, we have saved the best for last. everybody else just can't hang—it's quite unfortunate. as the rightful victor, I conclude that gojo satoru was the drunkest tonight, given his stint bent over the toilet. let's take a look, shall we?" [the camera pans to the bathroom. gojo is sprawled across the laps of geto and you, his face pressed against geto's thigh. geto's head rests against yours as all three of you snooze peacefully.] mei mei (whispering): "look at these cuties, snuggled up on the bathroom floor. gojo looks so peaceful, you would never know he was just expelling his entire stomach's contents barely an hour ago."

[the camera cuts to the couch, where shoko and utahime are tangled together in a chaotic sprawl, drooling and snoring loudly.] mei mei (whispering): "and here are the lovebirds! snorting and drooling all over each other. utahime is definitely going to remember this tomorrow. shoko? I sure hope so, because I can't go back to those constant longing stares, ugh!"

[the shot moves to shoko's room, focusing on haibara clinging to nanami like a lifeline.] mei mei (whispering): "and here's haibara, glued to his big, strong man who saved him from being gojo 2.0. nanami, ever the hero, still played babysitter. truly wholesome content."

[the video cuts back to mei mei, her face smug.] mei mei: "and that's a wrap! should I keep sending myself money off everyone's phones? hmm... haven’t I earned it? anyway, bye now!" 01:22 =================⬤ 01:22 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

[jikookficsdiarry]

LOVES IT'S AYS DAY TOMORROW!! PARTY PARTY YEAH🤍🥹

Okay, I know I'm really late, but I just had to express my thoughts about episode 5 real quick :)

This vminkook moment right here is my HAPPINESSS!!!

Look at these adorable cutiessss!! My whole heart🥹🤍 like I just wanna put them in my pocket and protect them forever:(

So umm yeah what goes on?!! Jikook match each other's freak for sure!!

The epitome of beautiful, jiminie and kookie🤍

I remember seeing this vmin picture and instantly sending it to my best friend, she responded saying you will always be my passenger princess🥹 yes I teared up:( this moment of jiminie waking up taebear was honestly so adorable...

Sometimes I wonder how my heart is always happy and its because of jikook and their playfulness🥹🤍 we saw that wink kookieeee, it might not be in 4k but we still saw ittt!

This cuddle session...omdsss the CUTEST heartwarming moment everrrr pleasee!!🥹🤍

"Its's just a picture, why are you crying?"

This right here lads.🤍

Need I say more??

Like do you see their adorable pouts🥹🤍 the way my heart was just doing catapults throughout the epsiode sidbdjkrkf🤍

Now let's focus on this moment shall we? Personally this was my favourite moment in the whole episode! If you follow my posts I was (still am) really nervous and anxious about MS being mentioned in AYS. These past couple of years with BTS enlisting has been hard on me, the reason being I have grown up with them by myside. For someone who has had to leave and and move to different countries constantly leaving friends and family behind, I have learnt to say goodbye a little too much. To the memories, the relationships and so much more. One constant thing that remained with me and never changed was Bangtan. (Idk if im making sense but I really hope i am)

I know it's just military service and they are gonna come back, just like jin did and hobi will next month🥹 but I will never truly be able to explain the void in my chest that still persists as I eagerly wait for 2025 when they are all together. It hurts when you have to be apart from the people you love, I know exactly how it feels. So yes, I was concerned about kookie and minie not seeing each other for almost 2 years. Some might think I am exaggerating, some might understand exactly how I feel and tbh I totally understand each ones view, but when I say there 2 years have been hard it truly has been. Yes, I do get nervous and anxious when MS is bought up and this right here bought me so much ease and comfort, like I cried happy tears🥹 to know that kookie and jiminie were enlisting together and they made the same face (you really need to spend a lot of time with that person to know exactly what expression the other is going to make) and them expressly denying in a second that they would never fight, it touched my heartstrings you'll. 🥹🤍 I love these two so much🥹🤍

Also tae bear magically appearing and disappearing is beyond comprehensible to me.🤭

Sorry to get all serious, but yeah I just wanted to say that jikook always find a way to heal my heart and provide me happiness and comfort, cause I was so elated watching this epsiode it made me forget my worries honestly🤍

AND YESS LESS THAN 24 HOURS AND WE GET TO SEE OUR BUBBAS IN SAPPORO🤍🥹

Cant wait to see kookie and jiminie have the best time together🤍🥹

Are you sure?! You will always be our serotonin🤍 thank you

~ Nel🤍

[ultfreakme]

ok ok your posts about the superfam and DC are making me interested in the franchises. what would you recommend me to do in case i want to get more into it??

OH MY GOD YAY!!!! I am feeling so nervous compiling a list. I am mostly into Superfam so my recommendations will be around that. Comics are a bit of a tricky medium to get into because stories have been written for them since like, the 1940s, but there are new characters who help ease into the DC universe. It helps to read runs(usually what you call one comic book serialization)based on characters rather than titles because your fave may show up in random other places.

I'll give my journey with comics and how I got to know these characters

For superfam, starting with Jon Kent & Jay Nakamura! They're the ones I'm always posting about

Superman: Lois & Clark by Dan Jurgens and Lee Weeks: backstory with Jon as a kid with Lois and Clark, if you want to know more about Lois & Clark and how Jon was raised, this one is good.

Superman (2016) by Tomasi and Gleason: Further backstory on Jon's life with Lois & Clark as a child, it's a mediocre story with a bunch of american right-wing propaganda but the Jon stories are important build up for what comes next

The Man of Steel (2018) by Bendis Issue 6: Yes, JUST issue 6.

Superman (2018) by Bendis Issue 7-10: Continuation from Man of Steel and covers what many refer to as "the jon kent age-up". This is gonna be a bit of a tedious read because the writer for this sucks at his job. But this is unfortunately essential to understanding how Jon gets to where he is.

Superman: Son of Kal-El by Tom Taylor: If you want to jump right into Jon's time as Superman and see his blooming relationship with Jay, this is the go-to. This was my first DC comic and acts really well as an introduction for new readers

Action Comics (2016): #1050 (a big thing happens wrt to Jay and Jon)

Adventures of Superman: Jon Kent by Tom Taylor: Direct sequel to SOKE

Steelworks (2023) by Michael Dorn: Has a bunch of Jay cameos

Titans Beast World Metropolis Tour (2023): An important Jon thing happens with Nia here.

Action Comics (2016): #1060 : it's a follow-up from Metropolis Tour and is in a back-up story(basically what they call a side story- you'll have to scroll down a lot to see the Jon parts of it) 10. 1. Suicide Squad: Dream Team: Neither Jay nor Jay appear here BUT it is CRUCIAL to understand the context of this story- the main character in this- Dreamer- is a friend of Jay & Jon and she does something that betrays them . You'll figure it out while you're reading the rest

Absolute Power: Ground Zero #1 (2024)- Jay-centric

If you want a more comprehensive list for Jon, @bobbinalong has made a reading list for him and it's in the blog's pinned post.

Next up is Clark Kent:

Just as an introduction I'd say:

Superman Smashes the Klan (2019) by Gene Luen Yang: It's not related to current continuity but it really endears everyone to Clark, explains what he is all about and establishes what Superman is.

Warworld Saga: It's really well-written and is part of current continuity

I've been posting often about a character called Dreamer, she is very important to the current stories with Jay and Jon, but she is also an amazing character on her own. Her introduction happens in Superman: Son of Kal El but she has her solo stories as well:

Bad Dream: A Dreamer Story (2024) by Nicole Maines: An origin story for Dreamer

If you want to catch up with the rest of Superfam and want a starting place:

Kong Kenan/Super-Man: The New Super-Man (2016) by Gene Luen Yang

Natasha Irons/Steel and Lana Lang: Superwoman (2016) by Phil Jimenez (Natasha shows up in Warworld a LOT), and Steelworks

Kara Danvers/Supergirl: Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow(2021) by Tom King

Lois Lane: Lois Lane (2019) by Greg Rucka

Not all of these are essential, characters appear in runs that I haven't specifically attached to a character as well. But if you want to catch up on my faves, these are the ones I'd recommend. As you read, you'll get to know more of the characters and you can naturally find those who interest you as well.

If you are confused, you can always ask me again, and there's a bunch of my moots who are super eager to help anyone new get into the stories and I could ask them too, or you can get in touch with them!

Happy reading!

[fluentmoviequoter]

hey I have another request since you asked to keep them coming. how about academic rivals with victor vale (lockland era) turned to allies (*cough* lovers) fighting against eli? it would be also awesome for reader to be an EO <33

I am so so so sorry about the long wait, but thank you for being patient! This request is amazing and I hope I did it justice; it's my first time writing rivals to lovers allies, so I hope it's okay! Please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think. Thanks again for the great requests!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, discussions of death and EOs, reader's ability is discussed (it's controlling vehicles), reader and Victor call each other stupid/just are generally mean to each other, spoilers for Vicious. I think that's all?

Word Count: ~4.6k words

A/N: We need more Victor Vale gifs.

10 Years Ago - Lockland

You’re sitting in the quiet library, tapping your pen against your lower lip as you look back and forth between the open textbook and your nearly full notebook. The Comprehensive Science Seminar is ending, and it’s time to declare a thesis. You’ve been fighting through this course and are struggling to find the perfect topic. An idea pops into your head, and you scribble it on the last page of your notebook. As you pull the pen away, someone drops a paper onto your book.

“Wow, 95. You must be so proud,” you say emotionlessly, pushing the paper across the table as the owner, Victor Vale, sits across from you.

“It’s alright. What’d you get?” Victor asks, and you swear you see the hint of a smile.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been in to see Professor Lyne yet. No doubt it’s a 96 or higher.” You send him a fake smile before looking back at your notes.

“Hmm. And your thesis?”

“Yours?”

Victor stares at you before shrugging. “Coming along nicely.”

“Mine too. Now if you don’t mind.”

“Right, right. I wouldn’t want to bother Lockland’s number 2 student. See you tomorrow.”

“Not if there’s any hope in the world.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan quietly. I need a better thesis if I want to beat him, you think, and open a different textbook.

14 Years Ago - Lockland

“Mr. Vale, you will be paired with… your neighbor, nice planning,” the professor announces.

He continues down the list as you look over at Mr. Vale.

“I’ll handle it,” he mutters, reaching for the worksheet.

You slap a hand onto it, stopping him as you argue, “That’s not gonna work for me. I don’t really need the fate of my GPA in… those hands.”

The corner of his lip twitches up for just a moment. “Well these hands happen to have a better GPA than you. So, if it works for you, I’ll give yours a little boost. They love charity work here, it’s like an extracurricular.”

“Well, as much as I appreciate that,” you bite out, “I don’t trust you or your high GPA hands. So we do it together, or I take the A and tell everyone that you didn’t demonstrate the signature ‘Lockland Teamwork.’”

Victor cracks his neck before pushing the paper toward your side of the lab table. “Fine. But if we don’t do well on this I will make sure you never show your face at Lockland again.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how you feel after you lose your title of highest GPA, Vale.”

10 Years Ago - Lockland

“All right. It’s time to declare your thesis,” Professor Lyne announces.

You stare at the back of Victor’s head, two thesis options on a notecard on your desk. Are you waiting to see what he picks? Maybe. But you’re one or two higher grades away from taking Victor’s class ranking, and you will do it. If it’s the last thing you do.

Professor Lyne goes through his warnings about what makes a good thesis, and then you drown everything out. Bouncing your leg, you hope this goes well.

“And you, Mr. Vale?” Professor Lyne asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You see Victor look at Eli, then he turns and glances at you. Your brows furrow as he answers, “Adrenal inducers.”

Professor Lyne begins to argue, and Victor adds, “Adrenaline and its physical and emotional inducers and consequences. Biochemical thresholds. Fight or flight, That kind of thing.”

Watching with bated breath, you’re surprised when Professor Lyne nods and says, “Don’t make me regret it.”

You can practically feel the victory radiating off Victor as Professor Lyne turns his attention to you, sitting between Eli and Victor, a row behind. You state your first thesis idea, and Professor Lyne tilts his head as he nods.

“Excellent choice,” he says. “Eli Cardale.”

You take a deep breath, a small smile on your face. This smile, however, falls as Eli answers.

“EOs,” Eli says calmly.

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation until the end when Professor Lyne concedes with a simple: “Fine.”

Fine? you think. He’s going to kill someone; he’s insane.

Victor follows Eli outside, and for a brief moment, you’re concerned, then you realize that his concern for his psycho friend may give you the advantage you need.

You can win even after sacrificing a pawn, after all.

With your entire focus on beating Victor, you hardly notice that you haven’t seen him around as much. At least until you learn he tried to kill himself. After an internal war, wondering if you should visit him, you get in your car and drive to the hospital where he is.

When you find his room, you knock on the door. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Wow. Great to see you too, oh, it was no problem to come down and see you,” you respond.

Victor shakes his head. “Thanks, I guess. Why are you here?”

You shrug. “I figured I could apologize, since my amazing thesis drove you to such lengths.”

Victor barks out a harsh laugh. “You wish this was about you.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right, because I’m just a stupid girl whose GPA isn’t as high as yours and my mommy and daddy don’t write self-help books that end up with cryptic, messed-up messages.”

“See? Don’t understand.”

“Well, then, in that case, I’ll get going. I’ve got an ‘excellent’ thesis to work on. See ya, Vale, unless they finally see that it’s not just smart up there.”

You walk out, fuming. Victor is a lot of things, and infuriating is at the top of the list. He thinks you’re too stupid to understand? You’d bet money you know what happened.

In your car, you look down at your phone and find Eli’s number, prepared to check your hypothesis that he was involved. It rings as you drive, and you hear Eli answer just before you see a truck swerve into your lane.

10 Years Ago - Lockland Medical Center

You gasp for air when you wake up. Doctors and nurses are surrounding you; one pulls an adrenaline shot away as the others keep you still to tend to your wounds. Losing control is something you don’t usually feel, and you don’t like it. Their voices fade as your blinks grow slower, control slipping from your grasp.

The light in the hospital room is not helpful in your battle to open your eyes. When your surroundings become clear, you see the date on the wall. Your thesis is due tomorrow.

“Um, excuse me?” you ask a passing nurse. “I really need to get going, I have a thesis due.”

“Someone is on their way to talk with you,” she says kindly before hurrying out.

Professor Lyne’s assistant knocks on the door a few minutes later, sorrow and hurt in his eyes. “I was sorry to hear about your accident, but I’m glad you’re doing better. Modern medicine is something to behold.”

“Right,” you mumble. “And my thesis?”

“You’ll receive full credit for the course and have an indefinite extension. Professor Lyne…” His voice catches, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Professor Lyne had an accident at the school. He passed away yesterday.”

“He’s gone?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I reviewed your thesis draft with him the previous day and he was very impressed, so when you are able to submit it, I have no doubt you will receive praise.”

A tear rolls down his cheek, and he hastily excuses himself. Professor Lyne was impressed; you wonder if he reviewed Victor’s work. Or if Victor even did any work after his “accident.”

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone.

“Hey, it’s Eli. Victor tried to kill me,” Eli says quickly.

“Eli?” you ask after a moment. “How did you get my number?”

“Focus! Vic. Tried. To. Kill. Me,” he repeats slowly.

You probably deserved it, you think. Instead of saying that, you ask, “But you’re okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Victor is messed up though.”

“Eli, why are you telling me this?”

“Think about it. He tolerates me, but he hates you. Just be careful.”

Eli ends the call, and you decide he’s crazier than you thought. You glance around the hospital room, stopping to look out the window and feel a strange buzzing sensation as a truck passes outside. It swerves onto the curb, then the buzzing fades, and the driver corrects his mistake and keeps driving. Weird.

“Ma’am, I have the paperwork here if you’re ready to leave,” a nurse informs you.

“Oh, I am,” you answer, reaching for the pen.

9 Years Ago - Lockland

You walk the stage and accept your degree. The small class in your Comprehensive Science Seminar receives a special ceremony. Except for the two who didn’t submit their theses: Victor Vale and Eli Cardale. You thought that if either of them went to jail, it would be Eli. After hearing what Victor did to Angie Knight, you realize that maybe your academic hatred for him stemmed from a deeper understanding of his character.

It happens again when you leave the ceremony to enter the next part of your life and start a new job with your new degree. You look at a truck and feel a buzzing before it swerves. You step back, and it doesn’t stop; at the last second before impact, you flip your hand to the side, and the truck rolls over, stopping in the middle of the road.

You look between your hand and the truck, and worry fills your mind as you realize Eli was right.

Two Weeks Ago - Wrighton Penitentiary 

“Who’re you here to see?”

“Victor Vale,” you answer.

The disinterested guard taps a few keys on a computer. “He was in solitary for a long time. Folks like that don’t usually get visitors.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time. He’s not in solitary anymore, so I can see him, right?”

The guard huffs before pushing a clipboard through the small opening in the bulletproof glass. “Sign these, then go through the metal detectors. They’ll show you where to go.”

“Thank you.”

You rush through the paperwork and then through the security checkpoint. Sitting in front of the bulletproof divider, you tap your fingers on the metal table, glancing between the phone and the door. When Victor enters, his eyes land on you, as cold and hateful as ever.

“Hey,” you say into the phone after he picks the other side up.

“What do you want?”

“That’s your go-to line, isn’t it?”

“It’s been years,” Victor spits out your last name, “why now?”

You look around before lowering your voice to say, “He was right and you know something.”

“Who?”

“Eli. Who else, Victor? The guy you… injured.”

“What exactly do you want from me?”

“Answers! And don’t tell me that I won’t understand, I’m the one with a college degree and you’re in a jail cell,” you snap.

“Top of the class?” You nod, and Victor mumbles, “Just because I dropped out.”

“I would’ve beat your little ‘flight or fight’ thesis and you know it. Now tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened and nothing is going to happen. My time’s up. Bye.”

He slams the phone and storms out, not sparing a glance over his shoulder. The ache you refused to acknowledge disappears as he does. That’s what I thought, you think.

You spend the next few days trying to figure out what power Eli has. If Victor attempted to kill him and failed, then Eli must be invincible. There’s a way around that; there has to be. Staying near the prison wasn’t a conscious choice, but you’re less than a mile away, just in case.

One Week Ago - Wrighton Penitentiary 

Reading on your porch, you don’t expect to witness someone trying to steal your car. Focusing, you rev the engine and flash the headlights as you walk toward them.

“I knew I was smarter than you, but I didn’t think you were this much of an idiot,” you tell Victor.

“How did you do that?” he asks.

“I already told you, I know more than you think.”

“We need your car,” Victor says.

“Not without me. You can take it, on the condition I go with it.”

“Absolutely not. Give me the keys or we’ll take it another way,” Victor threatens.

You square your shoulders and look into his eyes with the same tenacity and stubbornness he hated in college.

“How? Gonna hurt me again; use the pain to distract me? Is that your thing?”

The man with him looks back and forth between you.

“You don’t know half as much as you think you do.”

You rev the engine and watch Victor’s eyes move to the car. “I know that you and Eli are EOs. And I know that you’re both crazy, but you’re not quite as crazy. Now, do you want to stand here until you get caught or take me up on the offer and get out of here?”

“I don’t want you coming with us,” he snaps.

You see a police car approaching and direct it into a U-turn to send it in the other direction.

“You’re-”

“An EO? Thought you were smart enough to notice, Vale. Last chance: car or no car?”

“Fine,” he concedes as sirens grow louder. “But I’m driving.”

“Not a chance. Besides, I can control it from the passenger seat, idiot.”

Victor rolls his eyes as he rushes to the passenger side, sitting low in the seat as his (friend? acquaintance?) lays down in the backseat. You introduce yourself quickly.

“Mitch,” he answers. “Thanks for covering for us.”

“Mostly you, Mitch.”

“So I’ve heard,” he mumbles.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“We can go to my parents’ house. They’re on a book tour,” Victor answers.

“Of course they are. Then what?”

“We find him.”

You nod, directing police cars past you as you turn off of the main road.

“And kill him, I presume? Since you failed last time,” you add.

“How do you know about that?”

“He called me. Warned me that since you hated me more than him, I was probably next.”

“And you didn’t care?”

“I was in the hospital, so yeah, it wasn’t really a top priority.”

“How’d you die?” Mitch asks. “Sorry, is that insensitive? I’m new to the Extra-Ordinary thing.”

“It should be insensitive, but it’s fine,” you answer gently. Softer than you’ve ever talked to Victor. “I was in a car accident after I visited Prince Vale over here after his overdose. A failed attempt at getting superpowers, I realize now.”

“You were in a wreck? I didn’t know,” Victor says, pulling himself up into the seat.

“I’m shocked,” you answer sarcastically, “because you always cared so much about me. We hate each other, Victor, I didn’t expect flowers.”

Victor nods and tells you how to get to his parents’ house. Mitch sighs after each of his hurtful comments, but you’re immune to them.

10 Days Ago - On the Road

“They’re back,” Mitch says, looking at the armored truck out the back window.

“I can get them off our trail, for good, but it will put a target on our back,” you offer.

“Not alone, you can’t,” Victor argues.

You nod. “Then what do we do?”

“Stop the car.”

You do as he says, telling Mitch to get down as you and Victor get out of the car.

“I am smart enough to do this by myself,” you whisper.

“Sure you are,” Victor replies. “Flip it and I’ll finish them off.”

“Okay,” you breathe out before focusing on flipping the vehicle end over end into a roadside ditch.

You watch as Victor approaches the cracked windshield. Closing your eyes as if it will protect you against the pained screams, you hear the last officer take his final breath before Victor returns to the car.

“Let’s go,” he hurries you. “If it helps your conscience, you didn’t kill any of them, just hurt them.”

If only you could believe that.

One Week Ago - Vale House

“Is that who I think it is?” you ask, looking over Mitch’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him,” Mitch answers. “Is it? This just says ‘Civilian Hero Saves Bank.’”

“Yeah, that’s Eli Cardale. He hasn’t aged a day, though.”

You’re leaning over onto the table, reading the article when Victor enters.

“What’s so interesting?” Victor asks.

“Mitch found Eli,” you answer.

“Where?”

He joins you, his arm brushing against yours, and for once, you don’t immediately pull away.

“Merit,” Mitch says. “He’s some kind of vigilante.”

You and Victor make the same sound: muted amusement covered by exasperation. Mitch looks at you, then back to the screen.

“The article doesn’t say his name? I thought he’d want the fame,” you add.

“He doesn’t. He thinks God sent him back to take care of EOs.”

“Eli Cardale thinks he’s God? That makes sense.”

“Ever. He changed his name to Eli Ever.”

“Someone was jealous of someone else’s alliteration, Peter Parker,” you point out, smiling as Victor sighs.

The night before you leave for Merit, you ask Mitch to find Victor’s records, reading the reports of both deaths - his overdose and the one he caused. After his overdose, no one told you he died, and you had no idea about what happened with Angie.

“What are you doing?” Victor asks, suddenly behind you.

“Getting answers,” you reply, turning the computer off and walking away.

Victor follows you through the large glass doors onto the deck.

“So it’s okay for you to go digging around in my past when you won’t answer a single question about yours?” Victor snaps.

“What do you want to know? That I got hit by a truck and brought back to life two times? That I put everything I had left into that thesis? That the first time I realized I had a power was because of you?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? You knew Eli and I were looking into EOs.”

“This isn’t my fault, Victor!”

“You were being reckless! Still are!”

“And you’re still stupid! Who in their right mind kills themselves, not once, but twice, just to get superpowers?” you yell, stepping closer to Victor.

“You have powers too! And we both know I’m not the stupid one here.”

“Are we seriously arguing over who’s smarter? We just killed several people, Victor!”

“We? There was no we when we had that group project and you deleted my work to replace it with your own.”

“You were wrong and you know it,” you reply, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“My GPA begs to differ.”

“You didn’t even graduate and you’re still infuriating.”

“And you’re smarter than you think, just won’t apply yourself like I do!”

“Shut up, Victor.”

“Make me.”

You grab his coat and pull him in, crashing your lips against his. His hands meet your waist, and he slows the kiss, moving his lips against yours. When you realize what you’re doing, you pull back.

“We- uh- we can’t stay here forever, your parents have to come back eventually,” you say quietly, Victor’s coat still in your hands.

“I know, but I don’t think we can do this alone. I can turn myself in and get another guy. Someone who can kill the unkillable.”

“That’s an incredibly stupid idea, Victor.”

“Do you have a better one?” Victor asks sharply.

“A few, actually. And they don’t require you to go back to prison and leave me here.”

“I’m not pulling you into this, too. If Eli kills me....”

“That’s not your decision, Vic.”

He takes a few deep breaths before nodding. “Okay,” he whispers.

Six Days Ago - Merit

You and Victor walk out of a store with several supplies, including Mitch’s chocolate milk and a first aid kit for Sydney’s gunshot wound. She’s only been with you for a few hours since you drove into Merit, but you feel attached to her already. Suddenly, you drop the bags as an intense pain overwhelms your senses.

“Vic?” you ask, looking up at him.

You watch, helpless, as he calls the police with an anonymous tip that escaped convict Victor Vale was seen in Merit.

“You lied to me!” you accuse through your tears. “Don’t do this!”

He kneels before you, brushing his finger over your cheekbone and kissing your forehead. “I’ll find you when I get out.”

“I’ll find you if you don’t. Please don’t be stupid about this,” you beg.

“See you around. Maybe study biology to pass the time and we can have a rematch test,” Victor says before standing and approaching the curb.

He raises his hands and falls to his knees as the police descend upon him and handcuff him. Even though you could stop it all with the wave of a hand, you watch, vowing to keep your promise or die trying. And you would have done better in that biology class if your teacher had been a fair grader.

You return to the room at the Esquire, tears still running down your face.

“What happened?” Sydney asks, rushing to your side when you enter.

“That idiot got himself arrested just to break out again with more help,” you answer, no emotion in your voice. “So we have to do something.”

“Okay, this is when Victor would tell you not to be stupid,” Mitch interjects.

“Well, Victor thinks I’m stupid all the time. Let’s prove him right,” you reply, shrugging.

“How?” Mitch asks.

“Sydney Vale here is going to visit her big brother, I’m going to crash a truck into a wall and we’re going to make sure Eli is ready for the taking as soon as Victor is out. Maybe not in that order.”

“Meaning?” Mitch asks carefully.

“No time for questions. You stay here and send me layouts of the jail and Sydney and I will bring Victor back soon.”

Sydney wordlessly follows you, more than happy to help you get Victor back. 

Five Days Ago - Merit Police Department

The time and place have been set: Midnight at Falcon Price. Now, to get the last member of your team back.

You and Sydney sit across from Victor, pretending to be checking on him until you create an excuse to leave.

“Is she okay?” Victor asks.

“Cover your head,” Sydney whispers.

Victor’s eyes widen when he hears brakes squeal and horns blowing, but he covers his head like Sydney asks. When the front end of a semi breaks through the wall before reversing out, Victor turns up the pain around him to distract everyone as he gets Sydney over the bulletproof divider and outside.

You rev the engine of the car you’re in and smile as Victor and Sydney climb in.

“I told you to wait,” Victor admonishes.

“We found him and we have a meeting. Four days, so find a new partner.”

“We need to figure out how Eli is finding them,” Victor mumbles.

“Mitch is working on it,” you reply.

“You know that was stupid, right?” Victor asks, changing the subject.

“Isn’t everything I do?”

“Maybe not everything,” Victor answers slowly, thinking about what happened at his parents’ house.

“Maybe not,” you agree, smiling.

10 Hours to Midnight - Merit

“You’re not going,” Victor repeats.

“Yes, I am. You need backup and I’m not just going to sit here,” you argue. You lower your voice to add, “Sydney may buy your promise that you’re coming back, but I’m not stupid enough to trust you again. At least not yet. So I go, or no one goes.”

“This is prison break day all over again,” Victor mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hesitant yes.”

“Perfect. Then let’s finish this, Victor.”

“And then what?”

“Biology test then a shot at freedom,” you answer. “In that order.”

Midnight - Falcon Price

You promised you wouldn’t interfere until you had to, but you can’t watch Eli touch Victor again. The building isn’t solid, yet you stand as you hear a large truck nearby. Directing it toward the building, you hope it doesn’t hurt Victor any more than he already is. Angling it so it affects the side where Eli is pacing more than where Victor is kneeling, bloody and bruised, you increase the speed and run it straight into the south corner of the Falcon Price project.

The building tilts and drops several feet as the load shifts onto the truck wedge in the load-bearing beams. Eli stumbles backward as you rush toward Victor.

“I should have known,” Eli says with a dark chuckle. “Although I wish I’d thought to recruit you before you two realized the line between hate and tolerance is so thin.”

“You would know,” you snap, wrapping an arm around Victor.

“But you see,” Eli continues, moving to the edge and looking over. “A truck isn’t enough to stop me. I’m invincible because God isn’t finished with me.”

“And when He is?” you ask.

“He’ll find a way.”

“How do you think you get to heaven, Cardale?” you ask, stalling.

The light of a plane catches your attention.

“It’s Ever,” he nearly growls.

“I’ve always wondered if it’s a plane that takes you to heaven,” you continue, willing yourself to control more than just trucks.

“You are as stupid as Victor said,” Eli mutters before raising his voice to ask, “What’s with the heaven questions? Didn't get an answer when you died at Lockand?”

“Yes or no on the plane, Eli?” you yell over the growing noise of the plane engine. “Because I think it’s time to board!”

You toss yourself over Victor as the plane crashes into the edge of the building, pulling Eli out of sight. Holding onto the chair bolted to the ground, you keep Victor from sliding over the edge as he tries to remain conscious.

“Was that a plane? I thought it was just trucks,” he mumbles as he pulls himself up.

“Apparently not. Now we need to get out of here before all those cops get here.”

“Didn’t think of that when I killed Serena.”

“Don’t think about that, Vic. Let’s focus on getting back to Sydney and Mitch; you have a promise to keep.”

After Midnight - Vale House

“Hey,” you call as you walk onto the deck and close the door behind you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Eli survived, but Snell took him in for murder. Serena was really powerful," he answers, turning to face you.

“You did it.”

“You did most of it. Without the truck and plane, he would have killed me.”

“Maybe. What now?”

“I don’t think this will ever be over,” he says, sighing. “But for now…”

He leans in, and you lay your hands on his chest as you ask, “Biology test?”

“Depends. What does the winner get?”

“Hmm. Two days without the loser calling them stupid,” you suggest.

“That’s it? A make or break biology test and that’s the prize?”

“The title, bragging rights, what more do you need, Vale?”

He gets closer before answering, “I think you know.”

“Ah, you want to read my thesis. Well, I’m sure we can work something out.”

Victor presses his forehead against yours. “I’m going to win, so how about I pick the prize?”

“At the rate you’re going, softie, it’ll probably be a prize for me too. If you win.”

“We’ll see.”

Victor steps back, and you take his hand to lead him inside. He watches you and mumbles, “I’m not sure there is a punishment with you, stupid.”

“Heard that!”

[wooltoesocks]

things i want to get answers to in the remaining episodes of four leaf: a very comprehensive list that must be missing some things i just cant remember at the moment (also soilers for up until ep 139):

just in general evrything about the bells, and more especiall like how is lina giving lupe her bells (because that is 100% gonna happen i think) gonna affect them, for example if they'll get lina's bell as like their own, and if that bell being kinda broken is gonna be any problem

will that be a permanent change, is lupe gonna give the bell back to lina after they deal with the wolf

what's gonna happen to cricket if they really do deal with the wolf? or how will tehy come to some wsolution that doesnt harm anyone

CARLA!!! is she gonna be okay? that wound looks very nasty. i hope they'll be able to cure it somehow, and if not, then chopchop there goes a leg :/

talking about carla, is she gonna give er bells to someone like she mentioned in 138? that is only in case she wont be able to continue, but it loks very bad rn, so my question is, is it gonnna be mercy? or in general, who is it gonna be?

also about the bells, i really wanna know how many bells each witch has!! it''s just something i think would be interesting to analyse. (i looked through all the episodes where a witch has their bells out buut i still now only know for certain the number of bels like 7 witches have (before 137 and emma giving up her bells): Erica 1, Emma 2, Socks 2 (most likely, unless she got mor after the prison break, that's when she at least shows only 2), Alishba 3, Linda 3 (both of whose bells were shown during the prison break), Carla 20, Lina 21.

also also (i use that word so much), the names of the witches! we now know there are 17 witches in the red hoods (+lupe +lina so maybe 19 but oh well) and of those 17 we know the names of 12 (episode 133)

what i wanna know too is like which bell belongs to which witch? we've seen some, for example in the flashback of when they first appeared, and also in the festival of roses we see some, but like i wnna knowww (ye sit's very trivial but that's what makes it fun i think)

the mom. what happened with her in the 8 months that have passed since lupe was last in their original world? did she just continue on like normal, or did she actually regret some of the things she's done? will lupe go see her again?

the inevitable. the thing i've been waiting for for like 2 years. the KISS! alvar mentioned the witch loking very mad and the also saying he's the kinda guy to ask twice before a first kiss and what i think will happen is that he is gonna ask. like he's just the kinda guy. but the thing lupe (most likely) will be "mad" about is just that al didnt tell about it (even tho he was gonna tell you lupe, you just didnt want him to). or they arent mad, but just like very confused/fristrated and Al just interpreted it wrong? i dont know. we'll see (hopefully tomorrow in 140 but at the evry least in 141?? like i dont think it will take so long that it would be 142? (i am delusional). also looking at the future chapter thumbnails (not a fast pass reader), it looks like someone is using some kind of reddish/pinkish magic / teleporting right next to him)

okay this isnt a theory or anything, i just know lupe's dad is gonna be so smug learning about lupe and al's relationship when they do get into one like judging from ep 116 and the "crush" i jut know

okay wow this is a long post but i need to get these out of my head and scream into the void and wait if it screams back

back to the bells, they'r gonna give everyone their own one back right? if they deal wit hthe wolf, there shouldnt be any need to hoard all the power, and i dont think it would be very fair to let 72 people just go on about life without really even knowing what's going no just because you wanna levitate. i know it's probably more complicated than that but yeah

also (fuck, this word again) what's gonna happen to the witchs' craving of gloom? is it gonna go away if there is no wolf (okay this is assuming that it's dealt with and they wont come to a peaceful comclusion but if that happens i just really hope cricket will be okay)

are other witches gonna wanna get rid of their bells and become human like emma?

i would like some more information about the different worlds, although i think it's unlikely tha will come up in the chapters themselves, but maybe as some bonus content somewhere?

okay so i already wrote about like if Lina's bell being broken is gonna have any effect on lupe, but will it affect Lina herself? i would assume not, but you never know

just in general, i cant wait to see how everything comes to a conclusion and how the ending is gonna be (even tho i would love for it to go on for longer). are we gonnna see another time skip?

man i just remembered there are alaso civilians in Garua at the moment too like the redhoods are gonna get the to safety right? maybe that will also help a little with the public's fear of the witches, the news that hey maybe they're not bad through and through (even tho that was never the case but most people still thought that so)

fuck this is long how many words even is this... 1005???? man that's like 2/3 of the essays we had to write in high school. yea it's easier to just put stuff from your mind into bullet points but this has taken me like maybe 45 minutes where as those essays took at least 5 hours. i bet i could make one from one of my interests in like 2 hours and i would be much better than any of those monstrocities i wrote

anyway back on track

actually those are the main ones i remember now, maybe i'll update this once more come to mind, but for now this is enough for today

pictured above is me falling for this series

wait one more thing: is it stated anywhere how much the bells weigh? i would assume they're more like incorporeal so they wouldn't hve any mass, and i fell like should know this i've read this series 5 or 6 times. but if they do infact hve mass, do the witches have to actively levitate them or are they jsut funky like that

[imaginedreamwrite]

Oooooh for soulmate Sunday can we get Nick V’s reaction to Pipsqueak getting super drunk and calling him from the club? Or maybe one of his teammates sees her and knows she’s totally wasted so they call him and tell him he should probably come get her?

“Squeaky-“ Nick’s voice through the speaker is husky and he knows full well that he’s far more bothered than he should be by your drunken antics, but hearing you whine over the phone affected him.

“I can be loud, do you know I can be loud? I was told to shut up-“ You continue to ramble, taking animatedly and with a great jest while out with some of the other wives and girlfriends on the team.

It was a tradition for the lot of you to go out twice a month if you could, and tonight he was missing you more than ever. It was one of those nights where Nick wanted you to stay home out of his own selfishness, a night when he would’ve wanted to watch some slap shot comedy and eat your favourite snacks. Despite wanting you to be home, Nick wouldn’t and didn’t stop you and he wouldn’t have made you stay home with him. Now though, he was ready to throw you over his shoulder and drag you home.

“I’m here to pick you up, pipsqueak. I’m gonna take you home-“

“I’m gonna get dick!” You giggled into the phone, your voice comprehensible through the phone and from just out of his view, your delivery aided by the goalie. “Hey! There you are!”

“Hey squeaky, why don’t we hang up and go home?” You stumbled into him, your hands sliding up his neck and hooking around his nape to drag his lips toward yours. “We’re gonna go home-“

“And have sex!” You let another laugh go, pressing your lips against his as he stabilized your waist.

“Shooters,” the goalie grinned and shook his head, “Cherry told me they all started with shooters and chased it with ‘water’.”

“Water?” Nick stabilized you, hands keeping yours down and out of his pants. “Vodka maybe.”

“Guess they’re not making practice tomorrow.” The goalie shrugged, handing you off to Nick before glancing at his own girlfriend who was resting against the wall crying on a bouncer’s shoulder. “Try and get some sleep-“

“Nick!” You directed his eyes back to him, attempting to steel yourself into composure. “I want to go home, home its home time and then when we get home I’m going to ride that dick-“

“Home.” He covered your mouth and bit back his grin. “If you’re good and keep quiet until we get home, I’ll give you what you want.”

“Dick-

“Starting now, squeaky toy.”

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

8/28/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription Part 3

Prayer

But, Father, I thank you for your word, and I thank you for the prophetic books that Go so far beyond our comprehension. Even where there's so many years of discussion and debate and so many people who are far more equipped to dissect this, there's still at a loss of totally how to wrap this all together. And God, I just thank you that you are a God who cannot We figured out and what a beautiful thing that is. And so from that place, that usher, we worship you in spirit and in truth. We trust that you are who you say you are. We recognize you as King of Kings and Lord of Lords and God I just thank you that everything else that falls underneath that is good and true.Your friend, your Father. You are Emmanuel. You are God with us. You are three in one, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And I thank you that we encompass you in all that you are. And I pray that we would be sensitive to your Spirit. It would have an awareness even if we walk into a room and we can Recognize that other people before us have prayed you into this room have there's residue of your spirit. Your spirit is still lingering there, and it follows us. And Lord, I pray that we would have the boldness and assurance to pray you into the areas that we feel you maybe aren't or maybe Other things have been prayed into the Lord. I just pray that we would be a people of strong faith and as one of the most beautiful parts of Scripture that I have found. What I've I pray that we believe, and I pray that you would help our unbelief. And it’s in your Name we pray,  Amen.

Announcements

Dailyaudiobible.com is our website, so our home base. It's where you can see what's happening here in the community. Encourage you to check it out so you get connected, stay connected, and another way that you can get connected, stay connected is you can go to facebook.com/dailyaudiobiblechronological. That's a great place to.Like I said, yeah, connected. Stay connected. If you have prayer requests and things that we as a community can come alongside of you and encourage you and pray over and with you, you can call an 800-583-2164. And that is all for today. I'm China. I love you, and I'll be waiting for you here, Tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line

Hey everyone, this is Sonia from Austin, TX. I'm just gonna ask. Please, please, please pray for a very strong, fresh Christian friend of mine. Who Is a principle.Until today. She got called into the superintendent's office. It's only the second week of school for students And The test results from last year Was not great. It's never been good since she's taken over that school that she's only done it for two years.Umm. And they at least reduced the size. They built two new schools this year, and it went from almost 900 students to 500. And anyway, she got called in and because of the test scores, they demoted her to assistant principal and putting her in a different school on the other side of the town.  She didn't get to go back to her school. She didn't get to say goodbye to her staff. She was also working on her PhD. She just started that a little while ago. Paid for through The school was paying for part of it and her PhD was going to be based on some strategies that she was going to try at the school the next two years. So don't know if she's going to get her PhD now. I've been in education from the 19 years I've never seen it a district.Do something like this to somebody. They got new people in Superintendent position. And anyway, just please pray. She's just stunned.

[sebsxphia]

OH MY GOD, ABBY! i think i blacked out multiple times reading this. bob floyd, bestfriends to lovers trope, is the most delicious trope with him and i just love, love, love this so much! also, the banner is so CUTE 🥹 i hope you enjoy my ramblings below 🤭💗

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? / Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

ME.

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. / But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. / Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. / “Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

OHHHHHHHHH! all of these little details and bob admitting that yeah… he does. giggling and kicking my feet! i love him!

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. / “Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.” / “You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

i’m always so obsessed when you write about bobby taking off his glasses to eat you out 🤭

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” / “Robby.” 

it was at this point, i went.

Jesus Christ, he was huge. / “Fuck, she was right.” / Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” / “Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. / Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” / “Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. / “I….we can unpack this later-” / You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

I GIGGLED SO HARD 🤭 oh, but i just love this part so much 🥹 there’s something about the exchange in dialouge, the humor and the fact that bob is now swearing as he’s talking about the size of his dick… compared to the sweet best friend you had minutes ago… oh god. it’s so hot and perfect.

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” / Darlin. You were his darlin. 

ALL I EVER WANTED! also, size kink, size kink, siz—

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

squeeeeeee! i loved your post about this and i love how you added it in 🥹

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” / “Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

MY SOUL LEFT MY BODY. don’t you dare finish that sentence because bob wants to make you come twice, especially on his cock, and making you come just once isn’t in his plan? i’m gonna—

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

YEAH BABY! 🤭

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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

@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬.

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary: you have a meeting to attend via zoom when jake is leaving for work. he has interesting ways of saying goodbye.

warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! oral (female receiving), brief masturbation (male), semi-public sex.

word count: 3.4k

author's notes: no beta, we die like goose. thank you to the creator coven for giving me this plot bunny to turn into the beast that it became!

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

“Jake, honey! I have a video meeting in a couple of minutes!”

You liked to give your husband a heads up before you went into any meeting longer than half an hour whenever he was home. It had started in early 2020 when you were adjusting to working from home - everyone was - and Jake had kicked down the door of the spare bedroom slash office you were in, bare ass naked to retrieve some laundry. Thankfully your camera had been off, but it had the potential to not only get you fired, but cause an international incident.

“How long?” Jake asked, wandering from the kitchen and into the hallway, scarfing down half a sandwich.

You looked at your watch as you began to turn and head back to your office. “Um, an hour and a half?”

“I’ll be gone to work by then, I’m working the night shift at the base,” he said petulantly, shoulders slumping slightly. “I won’t see you until tomorrow morning.”

“I know, honey,” you said with a pout, turning back around and closing the distance between you. “I’m sorry. I tried to get it rescheduled, but the Dean was the one calling the shots on this one.”

Jake rolled his eyes, stuffing more of the sandwich in his mouth. “Well, I’ll pop in before I leave to say goodbye.”

“If you don’t I’ll be cross,” you said, wrapping your arms around Jake’s shoulders. You stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, not caring that he’d gotten mustard on you somehow.

—

“Mrs. Seresin, did you have any updates from your meetings?”

You’d been trying to pay attention, but your mind kept drifting. Any meeting over an hour seemed cruel, and in the afternoon you were less likely to be at your best. You were also well aware that Jake would be leaving any moment, listening to the sounds of him gathering up gear and packing his bag for the night.

The Dean of the department and you were on a first name basis, but everyone had been calling you Mrs. Seresin since the wedding, because you couldn’t stop giggling and blushing over it, this time it was no exception.

“I do,” you replied, reaching for your notebook and opening a document containing some agendas and meeting notes that lived on your computer. You filled the void by saying “um” a few times while you searched through your materials. “The Equity, Diversity, Inclusion and Accessibility Committee met earlier this week to provide some feedback on the proposal of launching the Employment Equity Plan. Everyone was in favour but they did have some questions about how comprehensive the plan was.”

There was a light rapping on the door, and you turned to look back at it before turning back the camera. “Just a moment. Jake’s off to work.”

“Take your time!” one of your colleagues said, as you turned off your camera and microphone.

“Come in!” you said to Jake, standing up at the same time to greet him at the door. 

Jake stepped in wearing his service khakis, and smiled at you. “Off to work I go, darlin’,” he said in a sing-song voice, wrapping his arms around you.

You hugged him tightly, turning your head to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll call before I go to bed?” you asked.

“Of course!” Jake replied, ducking his head down and kissing you sweetly. He pulled back, saying nothing, looking toward your desk. “That leg is gonna give out at any moment,” he declared.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you said, waving your hand. “I’ll fix it up later.”

“It’ll take me two seconds,” Jake said, relinquishing his hold on you and moving toward your desk before crawling under it. The space beneath your desk was certainly big enough to fit him, but you weren’t going to deny that he looked a little goofy crowded under there.

You smiled to yourself before getting situated back in your chair, turning on the camera and microphone on your laptop back on. Your colleagues were talking amongst themselves about the equity plan you had spoke of.

“Sorry about that,” you said, trying to get comfortable in your chair despite Jake futzing about with the leg of your desk. “Won’t see him until morning.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” the Dean said, dismissively waving his hand. “Shall we get back into it?”

“Of course,” you replied, looking down to check your notes, catching a glimpse of Jake using a small screwdriver to tighten up one of the screws. Seriously, did he just carry that around in his pocket? “I wondered if we could bring forth a couple of goals to help us promote a representative workforce? I think that would grab peoples’ attention right off the bat.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” one of your colleagues said, just as Jake appeared to be finishing up.

You idly wondered how he planned to get out from under there, but figured you could just turn your camera off for a moment when he gave you the okay.

He did no such thing.

Clearing your throat, you looked through your notes once more and tried not to pay Jake any mind, who had situated himself between your legs. You had no idea what he was playing at, but did your best to ignore him.

“The first goal we drafted up was ‘to increase the recruitment of employees from equity-deserving groups,’” you continued, feeling one of Jake’s hands on your knee. “And the second was ‘To enhance the experience of current employees from equity-deserving groups.’”

“That committee of yours does some good work,” one of your colleagues chuckled. “Those are great!”

“Thank you,” you said, reminding yourself to breathe as if everything were normal as Jake’s other hand settled on your other knee. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to them.”

You turned your microphone off, and while still looking at the camera muttered, “Jacob Seresin, what on earth are you doing down there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, the palms of his strong and calloused hands moving up your thighs. You pursed your lips tightly, trying to bring your legs close together on instinct, but Jake just pushed them further apart. “Keep your legs open, sweetheart.”

The conversation had moved on, and your colleagues were talking amongst themselves about the plan. Where you were the most junior staff person in the meeting, it was unlikely you would be contributing much to the bigger conversation, and for that you were thankful, because you certainly did not want to send your husband on his merry way.

“Jake,” you murmured, briefly closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh. Though you knew it was gauche, you kept your eyes focused on the small image of yourself on your laptop screen. You knew how responsive you were, what sorts of things Jake did to you. The last thing that you wanted was for it to be extremely noticeable to your colleagues that there was something happening.

So, even though you wanted to be looking down under your desk, between your legs, you looked at yourself.

“God, I can smell you, darlin’,” Jake purred, pressing his face to the inside of one of your thighs. He inhaled sharply, and you made a small sound behind your mouth. “How wet are you?”

What a dick. He knew you couldn’t respond. You shifted a little in your chair, nodding along to the discussion in the meeting, even though you had no fuckin’ clue what they were discussing.

Suddenly, Jake’s face was pressed against your core. Your lips parted in a small gasp, but on screen it just looked like an ordinary sigh. “Soaked,” Jake murmured, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice against you through the layers of fabric that separated the two of you. “Oh my god, baby girl. I could taste you just like this.”

“Any thoughts?”

Fuck.

You turned your microphone back on. “Um,” you stuttered, shifting your hips slightly when you felt Jake’s fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings. “I thought we agreed on seven priorities instead of six. I believe it was Don who alluded to ‘lucky number seven.’”

“You know what? You’re right! Do you remember what the seventh priority was?”

“Recognition.”

When there were no follow up questions, you turned your microphone back off.

Jake’s fingertips brushed along your skin as he pulled your leggings down your legs. You raised your eyebrows at the screen, pretending to be engaged, meanwhile you were suddenly pantsless in front of the team you reported to.

“Oh my god, baby girl,” Jake murmured reverently, and you swallowed hard as Jake’s fingers traced over the edges of your labia through your underwear. As he had observed before, you were already wet, and the sensation of him touching you had you briefly closing your eyes. The drag of the wet fabric against your clit, Jake’s thick fingers pressing against you, had you rolling your hips toward his touch.

The Dean said your name. “Does the Office of Equity and Inclusion being the lead to ensure clarity, confidentiality and transparency make sense to you?”

You begrudgingly turned your microphone back on. “Oh … yes. That, um, seems like an appropriate office to take the lead on that.”

God, you wished the Dean and the rest of your colleagues would just stop asking you for input. Compared to everyone else in the meeting you made significantly less money and had significantly less say in the operations of the university. Then again, they were likely trying to make a point about the whole equity plan by including you.

“You sound so wrecked,” Jake murmured, rubbing your clit through your wet underwear. You whined and lifted your hips toward your touch. “They probably can’t tell, but I can.”

Panicked, you checked to make sure you’d turned your microphone off - you hadn’t. You hoped to any deity that would listen that no one had heard that as you turned your mic back off.

“Jake,” you whispered, trying not to move your lips, “please.”

“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, as his fingers pressed your entrance, digits wrapped in your wet underwear plunging gently into you. “Stop? Keep going?”

“You asshole,” you murmured good naturedly. “Keep - keep going.”

“Mrs. Seresin, you had something to contribute?”

Fuck.

You began to speak, only to have three different people let you know that your mic was turned off. “I, uh, just wanted to double check by what percentage we wanted to reduce our overall workforce analysis gap by?”

“Eighty percent.”

“Thank you!”

While you had been speaking, Jake had pulled your underwear off, grabbing your legs and pulling them over his shoulders. On camera, it looked like you had shifted and sat back a little in your chair. It wasn’t … inaccurate. This time you triple checked that your microphone was off.

“God, look at that sweet little pussy, darlin’,” Jake groaned. You could feel his warm breath against your clit, and swallowed hard. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on it, to taste you.”

You bit at your lip, and keeping your eyes on yourself, attempted to deduce what it would look like if you fisted Jake’s hair in your hand. Unfortunately, it would definitely look like your hand moved between your legs, so you opted to keep your hands above your desk, much to your dismay. You wanted to feel Jake’s soft blond hair through your fingers, pull on it gently, command him closer to your cunt.

Despite Jake’s declarations of wanting to put his mouth on you, you felt his fingers once more. You gasped, hoping it looked like a yawn on camera, rolling your hips into Jake’s touch.

“Jake,” you whined - carefully - hoping that you wouldn’t be asked to speak, or what your thoughts were, again. “Please. Put your mouth on me.”

“Darlin’, you sound so pretty when you’re begging,” Jake hummed, pressing his mouth where your thigh met your loins. “Maybe I want to hear it some more?”

He was not being fair and it drove you mad, but you wouldn’t want him to change.

On your laptop screen, the Dean and your colleagues were in a deep discussion about the second pillar of the plan, inclusive excellence actions,. And while you had been looking forward to this discussion, it paled in comparison to giving your full, undivided attention to your husband, on his knees between your legs, mouth so close to your pussy, strong and calloused palms alternating between moving over your thighs and calves.

“You’re - you’re going to be late,” you attempted to rationalize. God, you wanted him to draw this out, but you also didn’t want him to get in trouble.

“Beg.”

A shiver ran down along your spine; you knew that was his lieutenant voice. You might have come right then and there if you hadn’t been looking forward to his mouth on you so much.

You made sure to watch yourself on screen, you couldn’t let others know how absolutely wrecked you were.

“Honey, please,” you purred, in a voice that you knew slid over Jake like silk. “I need your mouth on me baby. Fuck, you make me feel so good. Put your tongue in my pussy. Please. I need to feel you, and I know you want to taste it.”

“Mrs. Seresin?”

You really wished you could just leave the meeting and that the Dean would stop jokingly calling you that. You could feel Jake’s wide smile, full of teeth, against your skin, everytime he was reminded that you were his.

“Your microphone is off.”

Your hand was trembling as you reached for your mouse, moving the cursor to turn the mic back on. “Sorry,” you apologized, and holy fuck did your voice ever sound strangled. “Talking to myself mostly.”

The Dean laughed. “Quite all right!”

You turned your microphone off, and that was when Jake’s tongue began to move along your lips. Inhaling sharply, you balled your fingers into a fist, dragging them against your desk.

“Jake,” you whined, letting your eyelids slip closed.

“I think you’ve earned this,” he murmured, the audible sound of his swallowing down your juices far too much to bear. Your hips undulated toward him, and he chuckled softly. “Such a good girl.”

He was sucking your clit gently into his mouth, hauling you closer to his face. You gasped, reaching down and gripping the bottom of your desk chair. It was difficult when your focus was drifting between Jake’s mouth on you, and watching yourself on screen to ensure that it didn’t look like what was happening, was in fact, happening.

You bit down on your lip repeatedly, as Jake’s tongue rolled over your clit before descending lower. Slowly, wetly, he licked his way into you. Moaning against your tightly pursed lips, you arched off your chair, wanting more of him inside of you. The tip of his tongue licked against your walls, and he groaned like it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

If you asked him, he would say that it was.

You could feel him shift, and without even looking you could tell that he was rubbing himself through his trousers. There wouldn’t be enough time for him to get changed, and you were certain his other tans were in a laundry basket somewhere.

Jake pulled his tongue from you, and you mourned the loss pathetically, whining and trying to chase his mouth. He placated you by slowly pressing one finger inside of you, as his tongue laved over your clit.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he hummed against you. You risked a look down, and holy fuck, you’d never seen a sight so gorgeous. Jake’s mouth on your pussy, his bright green eyes looking up at you. “My mouth, my fingers, my cock. So hungry for it all.”

Tightly closing your eyes, you reached for your phone, and thumbed at it to make it look like you were checking your messages, when really you were snapping a quick photo of Jake - eyes bright, tongue licking along your folds, open palm rubbing at his crotch.

“They’re gonna want to talk to me soon,” you murmured, setting your phone down, fingers flexing against your desk. “Please … make me come. Let me come.”

“God, darlin’.”

Jake wrapped his arms around your thighs, hauled you closer, mouth on a mission. You gasped as he sucked your clit gently into his mouth, and then pressed two of his long, thick fingers inside of you. You chanced a glance down at him again, and god, even he looked like he was beginning to come apart at the seams.

Your eyes quickly lifted back to your screen. You didn’t look too fucked out, but you didn’t look like you probably should have in a meeting. You hoped that it was subtle enough that no one else could notice.

As if on cue, your supervisor asked for your input.

“Um,” you choked out, fingers reaching for the edge of the desk. Oh god, Jake’s tongue was flat against your clit, and his fingers were pumping in and out of you just like he fucked. His fingers weren’t as thick as his cock, but they were still his, and he still knew how to stretch you open slowly, perfectly. “Can you, uh, remind me where - jeez - where we are?”

“The third priority, recruitment.”

Briefly, you hung your head, trying to compose yourself. You could feel the pressure beginning to build at the base of your spine. Jake’s tongue moved inside of you, along his fingers. Oh my god, you were going to come. He was going to make you come on camera. You could see the mischievous twinkle in Jake’s eyes even if you couldn’t see it.

“Right, recruitment,” you repeated, unable to keep yourself from rolling your hips. You wanted to fuck Jake’s face so badly as he brought you to the edge, but there was no way. As if sensing your dilemma, Jake’s free hand gripped your hip and pinned you to the chair. 

You chose to ignore the concerned look on one of your colleague’s faces. “You had some really great wording for the fifth action in a call that we had, but I’m afraid I didn’t capture it. Would you mind repeating it?”

Yes, I fucking mind!

Jake was relentless. You couldn’t move, all eyes were on you. Trembling, you reached for your notebook to flip to the page with relevant notes. Nails scraped against the edge of the desk, as Jake whispered below, “C’mon, darlin’. Be a good girl. Come - come on me. I want to taste you. Baby, let me taste you.”

He was begging you now.

“Tha - thank you,” you stuttered, knuckles turning white as you continued to grip the edge of your desk. “What I had suggested was ‘Develop and - ha - facilitate a specialized candidate caaaaare program aimed at - ohgod - empowering and supporting equity-deserving job seekers naaaaavigating the employment process.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine!” you replied quickly, as Jake crooked his fingers inside of you. “I think I have to sneeze. Be right back!”

You turned both your microphone and your camera off, ignoring the concerned looks from your coworkers.

“Jake!” you cried, head thrown back as you moved your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers, chasing his tongue. “Honey please. Please!”

You tangled your hands in his hair, pulling hard, and he lifted his gaze to yours. You came with a shout, pressing down against Jake’s fingers and face so hard that his knuckles brushed your entrance, that you were positive he wouldn’t be able to get the scent of you out of his nostrils all day. Jake groaned against you, lapping up every bit of your slick. When he eventually pulled away, he licked his fingers before slowly standing up. You grabbed at his wrist, pulling his hand toward your face. He slipped his fingers into your mouth, and fucked your face slowly.

“Baby,” you hummed, leaning into his touch against your face. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip, and you looked up at him. “Baby, what about you?”

“I get home at six am tomorrow,” he purred.

Your eyes lit up, knowing what kind of mood he would be in after enduring the desperation of needing release all night. “I’ll be waiting.”

/end. 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Take Me On Top of the World

Pairing: Johnny Storm x fem!reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: Your friends get a little too excited when Johnny crashes your girls’ night out.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, f receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, public sex, multiple orgasms), excessive alcohol consumption, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a Johnny fic for a while and I finally got the inspo for this one! May continue this as a little series but I haven’t decided yet.

I’m no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You grabbed the tray of shots to bring back to your group, the bitches already starting to get rowdy from the three other bars you’d hit earlier.

It was so nice to have a little break from work. Yes, you absolutely loved the opportunity to collaborate with Sue. Even if she hadn’t been the Invisible Woman, she was a giant in the field of genetics. Having access to her resources as you worked on your comprehensive mapping of the human genome was a huge boon. But girl was intense as fuck.

Hence, girls’ night. Sans Sue.

“Alright ya skanks, I got more tequila!!!”

A huge round of cheers went up at that, all of you tossing back your drinks with some wild hoots. You had to grab some of the glasses before the sloppy whores tried to smash them Viking style and you had to head back to the bar to grab some water for their crazy asses. Once you were sure everyone was at least relatively stable, you herded them all towards the dance floor to hopefully burn off some of that drunken energy.

“Y/N?”

Fuck your life, what was Johnny Storm doing here? That was a stupid question, it was a club full of women. You so did not need to deal with this fuck boi right now.

“It is Y/N, right?” He was giving you that fucking pretty smile that you hated. “Sue’s friend? Or do you prefer Dr. Y/N?”

“Jesus, Storm, are you gonna bother me here, too?” You were drunk enough that you didn’t really care about being gracious. “It’s bad enough I have to deal with your shenanigans at work, just let me dance with my friends without acting like a slut.”

“Holy shit, is that the Human Torch?”

“Goddamn you drunk bitches.” You mumbled under your breath, making exasperated gestures at them behind Johnny’s back when he started sauntering towards them with a cocky grin.

“That’s right ladies, it’s me.” The looks those hoes were shooting between you and the boy toy were not helping your mood. “Now, who’s up for body shots?”

“Absolutely not!” You grabbed Tracy when she stumbled forward with a giggle, frowning at Johnny when the rest of the gaggle pouted at you. “Babe, you just got engaged, and I am not explaining to all the boyfriends and girlfriends and spouses why there’s photos of you idiots licking salt off a superhero’s abs on the front page of the tabloids tomorrow.”

“Fine, you are such a mom!” Greta rolled her eyes at you as you tried to corral them away from the pretty boy. “But you don’t have an S/O that needs explaining to, and if all we can get is some vicarious horny action…”

“Christ, you’re a bunch of manipulative cunts.” You stuck your tongue out at them before turning back to Johnny, breathing deeply at that stupid kicked puppy look he was giving you. “Quit pouting Storm. Apparently, me and you are doing shots together so these stupid bitches don’t start breaking shit with their temper tantrums.”

“Excellent, I think we’re gonna have a great time.” He sauntered to the bar to grab everything you were going to need while you tapped your foot irritably and ignored the excited noises coming from the group of idiots behind you.

“If I see myself on TMZ tomorrow, I’m gonna be pissed.” You rolled your eyes when he started to follow you back to the private booth you’d reserved, sighing when you turned around and saw him starting to unbutton his shirt. “Nice try, pretty boy. Your shirt is staying on.”

“I dunno if you’ve ever done body shot before babe, but…”

“I’ve done body shots before, asshole.” All your friends were frowning at your mom friend ass. “I’ll lick it off your neck.”

“Ok, prude.” He just snickered when you flipped him off, wetting his fingers and dragging them over his throat before grabbing the salt shaker.

You ignored his smirking while you poured your shot, rolling your shoulders to loosen up as you made appeasing gestures at your friends. One of these nights you were gonna go out and they weren’t going to try to set you up with some fuck boy.

Johnny bit his lip as you drew close to him, tilting his head to the side and humming when you flicked your tongue out and ran it over the salt in a quick stripe. Being so close to him made you realize just how warm he was, the heat radiating off him and the shot of tequila you downed having a very interesting and heady effect on your body. Even him grinning at you like an idiot around the lime didn’t serve to sour your mood like you thought it would, taking things a little slower when you leaned forward to pluck the fruit from between his lips with a soft sigh.

What did bring you back was a camera’s flash going off, turning to growl at Kim when she tucked her phone back into her clutch with an innocent shrug. You scowled at her while you salted your neck, grabbing the lime Tracy handed to you and perching it between your lips.

He moved much slower when he bent to lick the salt from the column of your throat, dragging his extremely warm tongue over your thrumming pulse until you let out the tiniest, most satisfying whimper. When he leaned back to down his shot, he winked at you, and fuck him but maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this after drinking so much because you were suddenly having all sorts of thoughts about how warm certain other parts of his anatomy might be.

You felt his tongue sweep over yours when he took the slice of lime from between your lips, his hand curling around the back of your head while he lingered there for a few breaths before leaning back and cocking his head at you.

“Huh.” He spat the rind into the shot glass and set it aside, chewing on his bottom lip as he gazed at you.

“Yeah.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, were you really this hard up? Or was he just surprisingly sexy right now?

“You wanna, I dunno, do another one?” He couldn’t figure out why he was feeling so sheepish all of a sudden.

“Sure.” You could slap every one of those stupid sluts who were giggling behind you.

Maybe it was when you started letting him take the shot glass from in between your tits, the way your balconette bra pushed your cleavage together making a perfect little glass holder that he was more than happy to take advantage of. Or, maybe it was when you switched out the tequila for sake, because if you were going to slurp alcohol out of his overheated bellybutton, it was gonna be something that was supposed to be warm. But at some point, your friends decided they were sick of watching you two lick each other and headed out.

Right now you had completely done away with the pretense of body shots and were shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths, your limbs wrapped around each other as you ground into Johnny’s lap. You tried to tell yourself that this was all because of the alcohol, but with the muggy temperature that was permeating the booth you had sweat most of it out.

“Christ, are you always this warm?” You nibbled at his lips as you framed his face in your hands, running your fingers back until they were running over his buzzed hair and it was tickling your palms. “Or is this just how you get all those girls to take off their clothes so fast?”

“It just gets harder to control when I’m excited.” He chuckled low in his chest, turning it into a purr when you started brushing your lips over his jaw. “The naked chicks are just a bonus. Why? You want to get out of that dress?”

“Well… mmph.” You almost lost your train of thought when he pulled your lips back to his, tracing them gently with his tongue until you were moaning for him. “Maybe if we weren’t still in the middle of the club.”

“Baby, no one’s looking at us.” He started leaving a trail of wet, warm kisses down your neck until he could bury his face in your chest.

“I’m still not getting naked in a crowded nightclub, Storm.” You gasped when he started skimming his fingers up your thighs and under your skirt. “But, if you can be sneaky…”

“I can be so damn sneaky.” He grinned against your lips when you whined at the feel of his fingers growing warmer as they inched closer to your core.

“Good.” Your voice was low and husky with need while you traced his bottom lip with your thumb. “Why don’t you show me what else that tongue can do.”

He beamed and gave you a peck on the lips before taking a quick survey of the crowd, slowly sliding off the bench and to the floor once he was sure no one was looking. His hands trailed up the outsides of your legs until they were drawing your panties off and tucking them in his pocket, the feeling of his lips pressing against the inside of your thighs making you slide further down in your seat so he could get closer to your throbbing core.

“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty.” He spread your legs wide with his broad shoulders once he reached the apex of your thighs, pulling your silky folds apart so he could really look at you and groaning at the sight of your slick leaking out of your throbbing pussy. “Would it make you mad if I told you I’ve been thinking about this ever since you started working with Sue?”

“Yes, get to it.” You grumbled, arching your back violently with a sharp gasp when you felt the wet brand of his tongue lave over your entrance. “Holy shit!”

You thought it was going to be good but you weren’t prepared, the heat radiating from him making everything so much more intense. Your toes were already curling while he dragged his tongue slowly over your slit, the pressure and warmth making you choke on your tongue when your clit throbbed against his mouth.

It was taking a ridiculous amount of self control for you to not start screaming, your voice leaving you in a steady whine that you fought to contain when you felt two of his thick fingers slipping inside you. The feel of him curling and stroking them against your velvety walls was so good, his tongue couldn’t move fast enough to lap up all the slit that was leaking out of you.

The pads of his fingers found that perfect spot and your whole body seized, your hands digging into the leather of the booth while your muscles arched painfully and your eyes rolled back in your skull. Your cunt was trying to pull him deeper as your release soaked him to the wrist.

“Just fucking beautiful.” He couldn’t stop staring at the way your pussy was fluttering around his fingers, the wet tightness of your core drawing him in until he had to bury his face in your swollen lips. “Fuck, I need more.”

“Ungh, Johnny!” The way he was pressing his tongue against your clit was making you lose it, you actually lost a heel when you thumped your feet against the floor when he slid a third finger inside you. “Oh, fuck, Johnny, don’t stop. Fuck, so good. Please!”

He kept stroking that perfect spot inside you as his lips wrapped around your clit, the warmth that radiated from his mouth and fingers spreading through your whole body until you let out a thin keen. It was unbearable. This playboy should not be this good at taking you apart, he was making you lightheaded.

Something changed in what he was doing. Maybe it was the angle, or the pressure, or the heat but suddenly you were jolting forward with a harsh breath and smacking your palm against the table when your body shivered with another intense orgasm. You sagged against the table with a low moan when he finally released you, breathing deeply as he slowly rose from the floor to sit close to you.

“You doing ok there, Y/N?” He leaned over you to press his lips over the curve of your shoulder and wrap his arm around your waist. “Maybe you can help me out?”

“Sure.” You groaned when he pulled you into his lap, tucking your face into his shoulder as you dipped your hands between the two of you to undo his fly. “Not like I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow anyway.”

“And I’m not even sorry about it.” His chuckle vibrated his chest against yours as he bent forward to nuzzle into your neck, purring gently when he felt your fingers wrap around his cock. “Ah, fuck.”

“I hope you’re ready, pretty boy.” You sat up slightly on your knees to line him up before sinking down onto him at a deliciously slow pace, grinning at the wanton moan he let out. “I don’t wanna be the only one who’s walking funny.”

He growled when you started to ride him, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your rhythm. You were very pleased to find that you were right, his cock was so warm, like velvet covered steel sliding through your slick channel at an increasingly wild pace as you grew frantic.

Not only was he warm, he was big. So long and thick and hitting you so deep in this position that you were dangerously close to screaming already. You were stretched so tight around him it was almost painful, but the heat made it easy for you to relax. Johnny whined when he peeled down and watched you swallowing him whole, your thick cream coating his cock until he could slam you down on him at a pace that was going to leave you with some deep bruises on the insides of your thighs but who fucking cared at this point.

“Jesus fucking shit.” He hissed at you clenching around him when he hit your deep, your back arching your chest towards his face until he was almost motorboating you. “Lemme just pop one out, baby, please.”

“Ok.” All you could do was gasp at this point, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kept hitting that deep spot over and over until you could barely think.

He hooked his fingers over your neckline and yanked, groaning when one of your breasts popped free. You purred when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and massaging it with his tongue as he gazed at you through his lashes. There wasn’t anything he could think of that was prettier than how you looked right now, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your eyes fluttering wildly as he brought you right to the edge.

His lips pulled back just a little and as soon as you felt the scrape of his teeth you were gone, burying your face in his neck to muffle your strangled cry as you released all over him. He released your breast with a wet pop and yanked your lips to his, tugging at them with his teeth and growling low in his chest as he held you tight and his hips started to stutter. When you felt his somehow even hotter cum shooting into you, you sagged into his shoulder, panting heavily as he shuddered underneath you.

“Fuck me.” He ran his fingers over your spine as he pulled you close, grinning when you finally lifted your head to gaze into his eyes. “We heading back to your place, or mine?”

“God, you are so fucking cocky.” You gave him an exasperated smirk as you climbed off him. “Your place. Don’t need your stupid commentary on my apartment.”

The weekend was absolutely fantastic, and totally worth the copy of the Post that Sue slammed on your desk Monday morning, a photo of her brother with his face buried between your thighs splashed across the front page.

[sashi-ya]

Woops! Was too hasty with that, so I’ll try again, sorry. Can I please have Sanji with Day 1 with Modern AU, she/her AFAB? Thanks, and sorry again. I have no reading comprehension.

Hi babe! Of course!! Your request opens this event, so I hope you enjoy this sweet story with Sanji and his beautiful smile! Thank you for requesting and happy holidays! 💖 ~

Chocolate & Peppermint

Sanji x F! Reader

Day 1: NSFW - Since we have nobody to spend Xmas with, would you like to come home? ~

tw: memories of Sanji with Sora. NSFW romantic! oral & vag sex.

wc: 1.4K

Ah, the young chef. His new restaurant recently opened but he is all a sensation already. His blond bangs follow the motion of his head as he dictates what his cooks should be doing. He also cooks, of course he does. And nobody does it better than him.

Tonight is Christmas eve, and the New Baratie is busier than ever. You, a trainee, can’t have a second to rest. Cleaning up plates, you even cook something too. You agreed to stay and work late that night, after all, your family lives overseas and your friends already have their companions for the night.

“(Name)-san. I’m sorry to bother you, can you take this order to table three, please?” Sanji asks, handing you a platter full of delicious food. The silverware reflects the fine profile - the prince - I mean, the chef has. “Of course, chef” you answer right away, taking the platter with diligent efficiency. And you walk away, being next to him makes you weak. Sanji… is more than your superior, he is a prince to your eyes. He looks like one. For you, the red tablecloth that hangs on one of his shoulders looks like a cape over his white uniform…

It’s almost twelve o’clock, satisfied and with their bellies full, every single customer has already left. You clean the fine porcelain of the New Baratie plates with the utmost care and say goodbye to the cooks that have hung their aprons the very moment the last plate was served.

You take a look outside, the little window of the kitchen shows how snow has covered the streets, and you think about how you are gonna come back to your apartment. “I wonder if Sanji has already left?” you think, cleaning with love and care that little plate, perhaps imagining you are holding his hands on yours.

And, almost like a Christmas gift, you hear footsteps entering the kitchen. There is no doubt, you even know how his walking sounds…

“(Name)-san? Why are you still here?” your prince, asks. Your cheeks turn a little red, there are always more people around when you two interact, but now both of you are alone. “Uhm… I guess it’s my turn to close today. I thought you had already left…” you stutter. “What about your family? Aren’t they waiting for you tonight?” he asks, genuinely concerned. You look to the ground and sigh. “Oh… uhm, no. My family is far away” you confess.

Sanji grabs the plate off your hands, and using his red tablecloth, he dries it. He takes a little time to speak, you can see him probably thinking something. And maybe, just maybe, one of your wishes is about to come true, tonight, on Christmas eve…

“(Name)-san, since we have nobody to spend Christmas with, would you like to come home?”

You widen your eyes, “is he… is he really… inviting me?”. “I mean, you don’t have to say yes! I can take you to your place, so you don’t have to walk alone. It’s completely fin…”. “I do, I want to go home with you'' you say, right away, interrupting Sanji’s nervous speech.

The blond smiles, with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “Let’s go then!” he says, grabbing your wrist with those soft hands, so gentle yet so playful. You follow him through the kitchen. Someone can clean tomorrow, nobody cares. Your apron falls to the ground, his too.

Sanji passes his scarf around your neck. “You are not wearing enough clothes, (Name)-san! You are gonna catch a cold!” he scolds you, with the sweetest tone. “Let’s go” he says, and you both leave the Baratie. You take your hand to the red scarf around your neck, the soft material, as soft as his hands, keeps you warm and his scent invades your nose.

The chef’s house is not far from the restaurant, so you walk a few streets to get there. Snowflakes caress your cold faces, leaving your cheeks blushed. The little lights that garnish the entrances contrast with the turned off lights from the insides. The kiddos are already in bed, waiting for Santa to leave their presents under the tree. But you, you don’t have to wait until tomorrow, because apparently your present is right next to you, walking right by your side.

“Aaaand we are home!” he announces, taking the keys out of the pocket of his long trench. “Welcome and please, feel at home” Sanji says, opening the door for you and bowing a little so you can go inside. “Thank you, Sanji” you whisper, smiling. Your cheeks hurt, maybe because of the winter breeze or maybe just because you can’t stop smiling.

Sanji, who is all about making others feel welcomed, has already started working on an onion soup. And while you wait for his talented hands to finish his delicatessen, you enjoy the many picture frames he has over the fireplace. A little Sanji with a missing tooth waves next to his dad Zeff in one of them. Another picture shows a bunch of guys hugging him tight, except a green haired man, who is hitting his forehead with him. And the most beautiful photo of all, a baby Sanji next to a beautiful blond woman that seems bedridden. She has the same blue eyes as him, eyes that remind you of the sky reflecting on a vast sea… an all-blue immensity. And she is as gorgeous as him… she is definitely Sanji’s mom.

“Oh… (Name)-san, the… soup is ready” he whispers at your back, well aware of you looking at that specific photo. You turn around and find him with sad eyes fixed on the tablecloth on his hands. “Right…” you whisper back. “That’s my mum, if you were wondering…” he confesses, looking at the ground. His voice cracks a little when saying that.

“I can see it, she has your eyes” you tell him, as you come closer and lift his head. Fixing your sight on his, you lose yourself deep in the blue sea of his irises. “Kind eyes, loving eyes” you finish. And his lips tremble, and his eyes get watery. “T-thank you…” he mumbles.

Your body acts on his own, and you wrap your arms around his waist. “(Name)-san” he gasps. “Merry Christmas, Sanji” you mumble, with your lips pressed on his cheek. And after some seconds, perhaps minutes, who knows?… Sanji kisses you, so softly, so lovingly and kind, like a prince. Your prince.

The blonde takes you in arms, your legs snaking around his waist. Needy, oh so needy kisses while he walks to his room with you in arms. The cold outside, and the steam inside, make the windows get fogged. Sanji slowly deposits you over his bed, as if you were a delicate flower. He flops at your side, his palm on your cheek, yours on him. Pecks and sweet kisses all over, lips, the tip of your noses, cheeks.

Shirts off, naked bellies touching, breathing the same air into each other's mouths. Foreheads pressed… so many shifts looking at that face from afar, and now he is so close to you. “(Name)... I can’t believe I’m finally holding your face in between my hands… I’ve spent so many shifts looking at you from afar”...

“Sanji…don’t you ever let me go… make me yours, I want you” you mumble with trembling lips. “It’ll be a pleasure, my princess” he says, as slides your clothes off. There is no place in your body where he hasn’t already left a kiss, soft lips traveling through the geography of your flesh. You squirm with each one of them, spasming muscles reacting.

The blond reaches for your lower belly, and down, so low he goes. He devours your core as you do with his gourmet masterpieces. Tongue up and down, and sometimes around. Fingers in and out, preparing your core to receive him inside soon after. You come, of course. Who wouldn’t with such talent?. Sanji, delighted by your moans, seems to reach heaven.

He sits back, legs crossed, patting his milky strong thighs. “Come here, princess” he tells you. And you, of course, obey right away. Straddling your hips over his lap, sitting over his growing hard erection, you hump and graze against him. His hands caress your back up and down, face lifted, kissing your chin as you guide his throbbing sex into your entrance. Deep, deep inside he goes, as you sit over his lap once again. His hips imitate your up and down motion, faster, deeper.

You move his bangs aside, revealing both of his deep blue eyes, kissing his forehead. Melted into each other, climax hits both of you at the same time, drowning moans with your lips pressed…

“Merry Christmas, my love”. “Merry Christmas, my prince”

And the soup got cold, but your bodies didn’t…

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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[thehomothings]

Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.