#looking forward to that sequel and whatever the hell is gonna happen

[adventuresingingerland]

Happy 7th Anniversary since the first episode and Happy Almost 2nd Anniversary since The Magnus Archives ended (tomorrow)!! 🎉🎉

[dirtbra1n]

I’m all ego can u directors comment on the “fascinating” convo. also it’s like Fun to me.

oh I should definitely figure out how to format these. I got excited and just clicked Answer and now I have to think about it. one sec. coming back with hindsight to tell you This gets long. I’ve hind-seen it.

first things first This ask is asking about the very first portion of the yet-unnamed tashiro post that went live on. the gray area between sunday and monday, I think. when’d I post the thing again. whatever. figure I’ll just go at this piece mail You’ll see quick that I came out the gate swinging

he kind of doesn’t know why he does it, didn’t really take the time to think about it. all he knows is that the time read 2:41 a moment ago and changed the second shirahama’s voice crackled over the phone, “what?”

so if you’re a real #DBWRITINGHEAD you might see the emphasis on the time and think Okay so what’s happening here. just happens that I drudged up the reference point recently. specifically this chunk here

so you see there’s kind of a lot already happening.

firstly it tells you that time IS an object, and that it gets blended and molded together and thrown at walls to see if it sticks. and it does. secondly though it gets you familiar with tashiro and shirahama’s banter, and this is an especially good thing because there’s a lot of it moving forward. I love to write these two so much. it comes natural and it’s a riot I could write them sniping at each other forever. third it gives you tashiro’s perspective of an event that a experienced river-reader might have seen already, while also working just fine on its own. and fourth, I guess. just because this chunk is, spiritually. to me. just as part of tashiro post as the other nearly 7k words. So I guess it’s even closer to that number than I’d thought. go figure. FOURTH. if you have this chunk’s post’s context, if you see that time and think, Aw, hell, this is just like that chunk in db’s shirahama post from a few months ago, you might remember its surrounding context and then go, hanzawa and weird situation and almost-but-not-quite confession. Maybe. in a word: foreshadowing.

it’s also, if I say so myself, a pretty strong opening line. I think kiri that I’ve shown you and sunnfish the first line in the note on my phone enough times for you to remember that it DIDN’T start with this one. that was a day-of decision. was a good one.

figure I should also draw the comparison between the two pieces while this chunk is here—shirahama kyouji’s internal monologue, both here and in its prologue-and-chronological-pre-side-and-sequel. or whatever the relationship is on paper. makes use of his given name kyouji, whilst tashiro’s is tashiro, his family name, throughout. this is because tashiro, to me, is so bad at letting people in that he kind of locks himself out too. hasn’t got the keys. just drew a little connection with this other piece in my head right this second but This Ask Wasn’t About That Post, Now, Was It? anyway tashiro’s got himself locked out. so it makes it easier for him to watch himself plummet from the outside looking in. anyway this ask isn’t about that scene either. anyway anyway. Moving on

“gonna tell you something weird.”

“…mhm…?”

tashiro squeezes his eyes shut, groggily rubbing a thumb over quick-drying salt at the outer corner of his eye. “just dreamed about hanzawa senpai dying on me.”

tashiro’s levels of awareness are always really fun to me. because he’s a strange guy in how quick he can get hit with something and roll with it, but he Knows its weird. shirahama is of course a good friend who resolves to deal with this. and boy does he deal! also of course tashiro had at least a few tears leak out of his eyes. his hanzawa senpai just died on him in a dream, after all. tangentially Have you ever been dreaming when you’re about to wake up, and something in the dream is upsetting enough at least conceptually to make you cry, but the unsteadiness of your waning unconsciousness fights the tears from coming out, so what you get is unsatisfying denied catharsis? really makes you think.

“…” shirahama breathes in; tashiro can hear him hold it. similarly, the sound of his hand being dragged over his face is crisp and loud.

the entire scene, barring the opening paragraph, operates in the present moment and its Moments, but this paragraph I feel really does the best job at demonstrating that. you are tashiro, lying in bed, fresh off the water—if you’re wondering, which you probably weren’t until just now, I haven’t written masato’s death from this first time; tashiro has seen hanzawa senpai dying before now, but the key- and weight-bearing word here is ‘on’, implying that he wasn’t troubled enough by that first aesthetically striking drowning to tell anybody—and you’re on the phone with your best friend at probably 2:43 or :44 by now, and you can hear him thinking your words over as if he were right next to you, because that’s where you’ve got your phone.

finally, he says, “fascinating.”

as you well know, kiri, this one was both recommended by and consequently modeled off you. you are tashiro, lying in bed, fresh off the water, and your best friend thinks the whole thing is ‘fascinating.’

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Some big changes are underway at Pixar, after an unfortunate series of layoffs...

Per the snippets I've seen of a Bloomberg article that's behind a paywall:

In addition to juicing up the sequel count once again (with hints of the worlds of FINDING NEMO and THE INCREDIBLES being revisited), and an INSIDE OUT series coming to Disney+ next year... It's being reported that Pixar is going to abandon the more "autobiographical" approach to their newest films... Ya know, actually director-driven films that connected with people? And supposedly, they will look to make more movies with "general appeal" - whatever the hell that means, at the behest of Disney execs.

It had been talked about for a little while, but it appears that Disney executives are mandating that Pixar not let filmmakers make films... Apparently forgetting that Pixar got to where they are in the first place because of the directors that were allowed to tell the stories that were personal to them (such as FINDING NEMO, THE INCREDIBLES, and INSIDE OUT) and meant a lot to them.

Apparently, that's box office poison now. Apparently that's why they've had losses lately. Recipes for failure. Never mind that LUCA and TURNING RED barely got theatrical releases, yet they did monster numbers on streaming, got solid-to-great critical reception, and Oscar nominations. ELEMENTAL may have cost a fortune, but it's the biggest original animated movie released post-COVID outbreak- OH YEAH, THAT. A whole worldwide pandemic! Which resulted in TURNING RED and LUCA skipping theaters in the first place.

Whereas the spin-off, LIGHTYEAR, was the only true flop of this period.

You can't make this crap up.

Bob Iger's gotta go, as do these other silly executives, if they're *really* telling Pete Docter and Pixar brass to stop making movies like that. Movies that reflect their respective filmmakers' personal experiences and vision... I thought Iger was happy with ELEMENTAL's leggy run last summer? I guess he actually wasn't, nor the shareholders - the same deeply unserious people who found Disney's 2019 earnings of $24 BILLION *disappointing* because it wasn't... GASP... $25 BILLION.

I guess TURNING RED and LUCA's reviews, nominations, and success on streaming don't matter. Like... What kind of movies, outside of the sequels, is this studio gonna put out now? Noted-to-death movies that audiences end up not really connecting with? And what if those lose money?

You can't engineer hits. Hollywood bean counters don't seem to get that. You could make a movie that gets amazing reviews, and it could still flop. Or it could break out. Circumstances beyond the control of the filmmakers. If COVID-19 never happened, and SOUL, LUCA, TURNING RED, and ELEMENTAL all enjoyed unbothered theatrical releases and people could actually afford a movie trip? They all would've been blockbusters.

That's not to say that I think it's over for Pixar. I'm still looking forward to what the filmmakers can cook up under such restrictions, if they can somehow eke out a little personality. They could go the way of Disney Animation right now in my eyes, but we'll see... But I feel these mandates do not bode well for the studio's future. I remember so many talented people leaving when John Lasseter tightened his grip, circa 2010... The same could happen if the filmmakers can't really make anything other than "pre-made crowd pleaser", and flee to a studio that's a little looser than that.

But this is Disney at the end of the day. Everything's a brand, everything's Glup Shitto now. "Pixar movie" is basically a genre, when it shouldn't be. WDAS apparently means "FROZEN-Lite Movie #6", "Disney movie" is basically just remake of a classic or theme park adaptation, Marvel is now cameo-fest homework movies, Star Wars don't get me started...

We'll see how that model works out for Disney over the next few years or so...

(Maybe after I cool down, I'll be more reasonable here... But it ain't lookin' too hot.)

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

Per usual, me & @coastercrushed are torturing each other with emotions /lovingly and the recent realization we've had are that the conversation between Diane and Bojack in the 'View from Halfway Down' is so so Mapplethorpe and Doe-core.

Mapplethorpe at the end of a trial, stranded and bleeding out, the generators have been powered and the hatch is closed, but the doors? Firmly closed, and his broken leg means he's in no state to try and run the killer. He's trapped, a mouse that's fallen into a pool, left treading water until the last of their energy fades and he slips beneath the surface.

His mind KNOWS his time is numbered, but his heart won't accept it, his mind won't process it. He's trying to pull himself out of the structures, looking for a break while the Killer is left fruitlessly sifting through the corners of the map for him. When he sees Doe, uninjured, in the middle of the reeds and tall grass, its like, some kind of mental fog is lifted. Her silhouette is distinctive and whatever mental restraint he had for his leg or the pain or hell, even alerting the killer, it's gone. Thrown away in the momentary wave of panicked relief that followed, she's salvation, he's FLYING out of his hiding spot, leg giving out under him with a crack in the process, but he powers through with a cry, pulling himself forward into the clearing in absolute tears.

" Doe! Doe, is that you? Doe, I need you."

She's turning and yup, it's her, she doesn't look at all startled or phased, or even hurt. Her lips turn up, maybe a little mournfully, but that's Doe, it's HER. " Mapplethorpe? "

" Doe! Thank god, Doe, you're gonna save me, right? You came back and you're going to save me right? We can patch this up and we're gonna get out of here and laugh at this back at the campfire," and now he's laughing through his tears, he's comforting himself, ready to kick his own backside for even believing for a second that hope was lost. Final boys never die, they make it to the sequel, obviously! But Doe, Doe just kind of takes a breath, shakes her head, looks down and to the distance rather than back at him.

" Mapleleaf, why did you stop hiding? I can't save you, I'm dead," then it hits, the entire events of the trial finally processing through

" You got mori'd "

" Right," Mape can't hold himself up anymore and he's dropping onto his good leg, mind working out loud" He was camping the hook and waited for us,"

A sad but affirmative nod "Yeah," " And then... I got hit." Mape's mind is still spinning, trying to process and find a way to deny the reality further, a new salvation or hair brained idea, but the fake Doe seems to predict it,

" It's too late, Maple, I'm sorry. What's done is done."

" No-- no.. It can't, I got--"

" There's nothing we can do, Maple, I'm not real, you've lost too much blood, this is the endgame, it's done,"

" So, what do I do now? " " Nothing. It doesn't matter, you'll be back at the campfire soon and won't even remember this happened."

" Well If it doesn't matter..." Mape attempts to sit down, to switch off of his good leg, and inch closer to the fake Doe but he doesn't have the strength for it, falling towards her feet, though thankfully it seems she steps closer, " Can I stay with you? Please? "

Then cut to this poor dead guy bleeding out with the figment of his girlfriend in the endgame, staring up at the starless void, discussing about the ongoing DND session they’ve been playing at the campfire and just waiting for the blood loss or the Entity to come get him

[portaltothevoid]

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter 19 - Pull Me Under

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: The group finds the gate to the Upside Down.

Warnings: established relationship, lil bit of fluff 

Word count: 2.9k

Chapter song: Pull Me Under by Dream Theater

Tag list: @munchabunch​ @madaboutmunson​ @mickkmaiden333​ @literarypeachtea​ @munsonology​

Dustin took off, galloping ahead of the group, as he watched the needle on his compass start to spin wildly. “Something’s happening…” he said before he took off running again.

“Dustin? Can you slow down? Dustin?” Eddie called after him as he swatted away branches from his face.

“We’re close I can feel it,” Kat confirmed as she trotted behind Eddie.

“She’s right. I think–” Dustin started to say with his head turned toward the group, his body still going forward, not realizing the trail ended right at his feet.

“Watch your step, big guy,” Eddie warned as he grabbed Dustin’s backpack just in time before he walked right into water.

“Aww man! You gotta be shittin’ me,'' Steve panted, having finally caught up with everyone.

“I thought these woods were familiar…” Eddie groaned.

“Lover’s Lake,” Robin said.

“This is confounding,” Dustin said as the whole group stared out at the vast lake in front of them.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max asked.

“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna’s the same way,” Nancy said.

“Yeah only one way to find out…” Steve said.

“Eddie, weren’t you guys in a boat or something?” Lucas wondered.

“Yep. I think it’s… It should be…” He said, going one way then turning and going the opposite direction. “No, yep, definitely this way. Follow me,” he waved everyone to the direction of the row boat once he settled on the first way he went. 

“I mean, think about it, guys,” Kat said. “Vecna’s been trapped there for… Honestly who knows how long, because who knows how time works over there. Down there? Whatever. He’s trying to get out. That’s the only reason I can think of why he’s even doing this. Ya know, aside from being a certified psycho.”

“You guys aren’t actually going to try and find this gate are you?” Lucas asked after everyone murmured agreements about Kat’s theory.

“What other choice do we have? Believe me, Sinclair, if there was another way, we’d take it, but this is literally all we have right now,” said Steve.

“But if Kat’s like El couldn’t she just find Ve–” Max began to say.

“Absolutely not,” Kat cut her off. “That makes me incredibly vulnerable when I do that. It’s like… Somehow he’s watching me. Maybe even all of us. I don’t know how. But until we know more about what the hell is going on, I’m staying as far away from him as I can.”

“Wouldn’t that be a way to find out?” Max questioned again.

“No, Max. No. I’m not doing that.” Kat’s voice was stern enough that everyone continued to the boat in silence. All the while she was mulling Max’s suggestion in her head. Spying on Vecna like he spied on this world, sure, it was an option. The fact that it was the most terrifying one out of all the options was why Kat was so staunch in turning it down. Judging by her demeanor, no one would have guessed the real reason was Kat’s fear. She had barely used her powers in years. Despite her rediscovering them recently and that it was almost like riding a bike, she just didn’t feel confident she was strong enough to go up against him by herself. 

Before her thoughts could spiral even further, they found the boat her and Eddie had used to escape last night. He ripped the tarp off, uncovered it, and presented it to the group. All of them looked at the small boat, looked at each other, and shrugged. 

Eddie then took the boat and practically slammed it into the water. “Easy! I… I said easy, man,” Steve sighed, shaking his head as he helped push the boat further into the water.

“Sorry, dude,” Eddie shrugged. “Here you go,” he said as he shifted to let Robin into the boat.

“Yeah I’m just gonna do that,” she said as she planted both her hands on Eddie and Steve’s heads, helping herself into the boat. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, that works too…” Steve said.

Eddie climbed into the boat next. He was quick to turn around to hold out his hand to help Kat into the boat. “Ramsay,” he said with the half smile she loved so much. 

“Thanks,” she whispered, returning with a cute half smile of her own. Eddie’s other hand was placed against her back, guiding her. He gently rubbed her back in an act of reassurance as she went to sit down next to Robin.

“Alright, Nancy, you next,” Steve ushered.

Eddie held out his hand for her too, “Wheeler,” he said as he guided her in too.

“Thanks,” she smiled. 

Then Dustin tried to get in next, but Eddie stopped him by nudging him back ashore. “Hey, hey, hey. You tryin’ to sink us? This thing holds four people tops, okay?” he said.

“It’s better this way, okay?” Nancy said, putting her foot down. “You guys stay here with Max. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“You keep an eye out!” Dustin retorted. Nancy gave him a quizzical look, one which he returned mockingly. “It’s my goddamn theory!”

“You heard Nance,” Robin said.

“Who put her in charge?!” Dustin whined.

“I did,” Robin said with a confident nod.

“Compass,” Nancy demanded as she took one step forward, her empty palm waiting for it to be handed over.

Dustin pouted as he reluctantly handed it over, knowing that they were right and this wasn’t a battle he was going to win.

“Hey, there you go,” Steve said as he threw the backpack at Dustin.

“Ow!” he exclaimed when he caught it. Steve began to push the boat out into the lake before hopping in it himself.

“You said four!” Dustin yelled.

“Sorry,” whispered Steve as he waved to the kids on shore. Eddie began to paddle, taking them farther away.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos!” Robin called out to them. The only response they got was Dustin flipping them the bird. “Miss you already!” she shouted, waving. “Lemme help you out, Eddie,” she said once she sat back down, grabbing the second oar to help row them to the center of the lake.

Kat chuckled to herself at their banter, but it soon faded. She crossed her arms over her chest and gripped her jacket, trying to pull it tighter to her. Her shoulders hunched over. She scooted next to Eddie so her leg was flush with his. A fleeting glance would tell someone that the California girl is just cold in the early spring night, but she couldn’t even feel the chill in the air. The breeze was still, the water flat.

The silence scared Kat more than anything right now. It was hard to describe what she was feeling in her mind these days. It was more like a presence. There was a constant presence in the back of her mind. Watching and listening was necessarily what it was doing. Just the simple reminder that it was there, waiting, was enough to set her on edge. That constant presence she grew to despise wasn’t there right now. Something was about to happen and Kat had no idea what it could be. The closer they got to the supposed gate, the more her stomach clenched with dread. 

“Eddie, it’s too quiet,” she practically whimpered, leaning over to speak so only he could hear.

“Want me to start singing?” he asked with a smile as he leaned back into her.

Letting out a short laugh through her nose, she shook her head, a smile was able to make its way onto her features. “No, that’s not what I mean… it’s… it’s too quiet. In here,” she said tapping her temple, “out there…” she then flicked her wrist to indicate the expanse of the lake. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” she said, imitating Luke Skywalker. 

Eddie immediately whipped his head around. “Star Wars? Did you just… Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Maybe…” she drawled with a sheepish grin. 

Eddie lightly bumped her shoulders with his. “See? I always know a nerd when I see one,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” she chortled. “I like movies!”

“Mhm, yeah. Nerdy ones,” he laughed. 

Steve and Nancy were distracted by tracking the compass. He leaned over Nancy, his chest pressing against her back as he held a flash light over her shoulder. “Whoa,” he said, breaking Kat and Eddie out of their moment. At the sound of his voice, Eddie and Robin stopped rowing. Both of them crowded around to see the compass. The needle was just constantly spinning without any signs of stopping. Kat stayed in her spot, pulling her jacket as close to her body as she could. In unison, they all looked up at Kat.

“It’s here,” she nodded.

“Guys, what’s going on?” Dustin’s voice sounded through the walkie. “Come on, guys. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘ahhh!’” Robin responded nervously. 

Steve immediately began talking off his shoes. When he was about to remove his socks, Nancy asked, “Steve, what are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Unless one of your four can top being a Hawkins High swim team co-captain, and a certified life-guard for three years, then… It’s gotta be me. No complaints, alright?”

“Steve, no! You can’t go down there, you don’t know if–” Kat started to say.

“Kat, me and Nance have been down there before. If Vecna was around then, he didn’t kill us. We made it out. I’m not going through the gate. I’m just going to confirm it’s down there, okay?”

“But–” she started again.

“Kat, if you went, it would be like sounding an alarm. Maybe, uh, we don’t exactly know yet, so why don’t we let the brave Steve Harrington go and hold on to his glory days, hm? Because, hey, I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there,” Eddie cut Kat off and looked into the water over the side of the boat.

“Uh, thanks, Munson? I think?” Steve said, shaking his head after he removed his shirt and threw it at Eddie and landed in his lap.

Nancy stared up at him, her jaw becoming slack. Robin and Kat both noticed and then smirked at each other. Meanwhile, Eddie quickly looked away from Steve and started emptying his jacket pockets, taking out a plastic bag. He grabbed the flashlight and began to wrap it in the bag. “Hey,” he said to Steve as he handed him the flashlight. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve said as he took it. 

In the midst of clearing out his pockets, Eddie took out a pack of cigarettes. He handed one to Kat and put one in his mouth.

“Thank god,” she muttered as she put it in her mouth, sticking it towards Eddie as he had flicked the lighter, about to light it for her. 

“Gross!” Robin said as she plucked each cigarette from their mouths simultaneously and tossed them in the water. That earned her a scowl from Eddie and a pout from Kat. 

Steve was taking a deep breath, getting ready to dive in when Nancy spoke up. “Steve?” she asked. He immediately turned around to look at her. “Be careful,” she warned with a sincere look on her face. Steve’s mouth turned up at the corners just slightly. He gave her a nod before he plunged off the side of the boat and dove into the water below.

The four left in the boat sat in silence. Each second that passed by seemed longer than the last. Nancy stared at her watch, keeping time of how long Steve was down there.

“Where we at, Wheeler?” Robin asked, the edges of her nerves becoming more and more frayed.

“Closing in on a minute,” Nancy said.

“Okay…” Robin nodded as she let out a whimper. 

Kat leaned her head back and sighed as she gazed at the night sky above. In an instant, she snapped her head back to looking straight out. It was as if something had pushed her. Her stomach lurched. Her eyes widened. Whatever had been lurking in the back of her mind, its siesta was over. She could feel it front and center now. “Something’s–” she said, but was cut off by the sound of Steve breaking the surface of the water. Everyone jumped, having gotten used to the quiet.

Robin yelped and Eddie shouted “Oh Christ!”

“I found it!” Steve exclaimed as he swam towards the boat.

“You found it?!” Nancy asked excitedly.

“Steve, get back in the boat,” Kat warned.

“I found it, yeah. I found it,” he repeated.

“Steve! Get back in the boat!” Kat said louder.

“Dustin, you’re goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate!” Robin said into the walkie. 

“Hello! Does anyone hear me? Get. Back. In. The. Boat!” Kat said, emphasizing each word.

“Kat, relax. It’s fine. Well, actually it’s pretty wild. It’s more a snack-size gate, than a mama gate, but still, it’s pretty damn big.”

“Cool, great, awesome. You can talk about it and catch your breath inside the boat you know!” Kat started waving her arm to get Steve to hurry up. 

“Okay, okay, okay! Jeez!” Steve said as he started to lift himself up. Suddenly, he disappeared back into the water. He still had a grip on the boat, so he pulled himself back up. Concerned flooded his face as he looked at his friends. Without warning, he was plunged back into the depths of the lake.

Robin screamed and flailed her hand as she tried to reach out and catch him. “Steve! Steve! Steve!” Nancy called out after him. “Steve! Steve!” Robin joined in.

“No, no, no!” Eddie cried out. 

Kat’s hands flew up beside her in frustration as she let gravity pull them back down so they hit her legs. “Don’t listen to the girl with superpowers,” she muttered, taking off her jacket.

“What the hell was that, man!?” Eddie continued yelling.

“Kat, really, what happened?” Robin asked, her voice absolutely frantic.

“Jesus!” Eddie yelped, his voice so high it cracked. 

Nancy got up to the edge of the boat. She was about to jump in, when Eddie reached for her and said, “Wait, wait, wait! You’re not going in there, are you?”

“Just.. wait here!” Nancy commanded before she leaped off the boat and dove into the water.

“No! Nancy!” Robin yelled after her. Followed by Eddie also yelling for her. “God dammit!” Eddie cried out when Nancy went under the water. Robin sighed and pushed herself against the side of the boat. Eddie then finally noticed Kat had taken off her jacket and was stretching.

“No, no, no, no, no, no! What are you guys doing? She said wait!” Eddie said.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take orders from Wheeler,” Kat scoffed. Eddie grabbed her wrist.

“Kat. You can’t. You don’t know– We don’t know what’s down there.”

“Well, we know one thing is. Steve. Steve is down there. And soon Nancy will be too.”

“Yeah, but… but!” Eddie spluttered. “She’s in charge! Robin even said!”

“Are you kidding? I made that shit up.” Robin said as she grabbed her nose and leaned over the boat, falling into the water backwards.

“I don’t care if that asshole is down there and waiting for us all. I am not letting anyone else die. Not if I can help it,” Kat stated as she jumped over the edge of the boat, descending into the dark depths below.

“Goddamn it! Son of a bitch!” Eddie shrieked as he got up and stared into the water below him. “Oh, this is so stupid. This is so stupid. This is so stupid!” He muttered as he swung one leg over the edge. Naturally, of course, he somehow lost his footing and as he quite literally fell out of the boat, shouted “Shit! Shit! Shit!” before he somersaulted into the water.

Meanwhile, down below, Steve had been dragged into the Upside Down. He stood at the bottom of a waterless Lover’s Lake. Sticky vines covering the expansive ground. Clouds covered the sky. Claps of thunder and red lighting illuminated them far off in the distance. He turned towards it when he heard the loud cry of what could only be described as a monster. Flapping wings caught his eye in the distance. Something shrieked to his left and sounded a hell of a lot closer than the first cry he heard. 

Thinking quickly on his feet, a wreck of a small boat was near him. He quickly reached in and grabbed an oar as this small swarm of bat-like creatures with six tails swooped toward him. He managed to hit a few of them, but one had snuck around behind him. One the thing’s tails encircled his neck, choking him, and dragged him around. Its friends took advantage of him as he was squirming and trying to grab the bat with his free arm; they began to bite down on his exposed torso. He let out screams of pain as he tried to swat them away. It worked the first couple of times, but then another creature joined the feast, pinning him down while the first one continued to suffocate him. The only thing he could do was scream as he stared up into the stormy sky.

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[persphonesorchid]

Hatin' On You - MYG

Summary: You absolutely loathe min yoongi, and honestly, you have no idea why - his vibe rubs you in all the wrong ways. When you and him suddenly find yourselves in a room with a shaman, things get ridiculously complicated.

Genre: Past Lovers au | enemies to friends to lovers(.....the lovers part comes in the sequel lmao) Fluff, angst.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Swearing, Yoongi and Mc are always at each other's throats. Character death, though, it's not too detailed. Yoongi and Mc are essentiallly drugged but not really. The shaman and the past life versions of Yoongi and Mc are not described because I simply don't remember how they looked to recall the finer details, just that Yoongi and mc of course don't look like themselves in their past lives. There's a tarot reading that's very vague but it'll make sense. The switch in the dream sequence scenes are a bit fast but you'll know when it happens. Yoongi calls Mc a brat 👀

Read the sequel Lovin'On You: HERE

Masterlist: HERE

If you like my content, please consider donating: HERE

Notes: This fic is inspired by a dream I had. The parts where the shaman is met, the tarot reading, Yoongi being a jerk ( lmao) and the scenes of their past lives described are all part of my dream. Which honestly was wild as hell? Got me delulu up in here 😭 I hope you guys enjoy this!! And don't worry, there's a sequel in the works already! Which you should look out for!!

Beta'd by the loml @xpeachesncream , who, without her being here for me to ramble about my crazy ass dream and not letting me pass up on a great idea, this fic wouldn't be here. A THOUSAND KISSES NIKKI MY LOVE ❤️🥺

Feedback is appreciated and encouraged!!

“Gonna stand there all day?”

You roll your eyes skyward, hoping to find the patience and the will, to be civil for more than five minutes. Yoongi’s making it so hard, though, you swear – you’re trying.

There’s a resounding sigh at Yoongi’s tone, but no one actually says anything. Seokjin’s car is pulled up to the curb where you wait standing, and inwardly, you spew every curse you know at him for having this demon named Min Yoongi in the backseat.

“I thought Jimin was picking me up?” You say, not actually making a move to get in. Namjoon, Seokjin’s forever passenger princess, is sitting at the front, blinking at you with round eyes behind his glasses.

Seokjin leans forward, shades slipping to the end of his nose and he peers at you over the frame. “He’s getting Hobi and Jungkook. I’m burning gas here, missy. Get in.”

You shift your gaze from him, to Yoongi, who hasn’t budged to the other side of the seat yet. Seatbelt still buckled, arm hanging out the window. You make an odd noise in the back of your throat, motioning at him with a flick of your hand and an incredulous expression. Does he want you to walk around?

“Yoongi.” Seokjin sighs, and the man rolls his eyes, wordlessly unbuckling his seatbelt. He slides across to the other side, and you step over to open the door.

Seokjin has the heat blasting in the car, and you’re grateful for the warmth as you get in and out of the cold. There’s soft music coming from the radio, and Seokjin and Namjoon slip back into whatever conversation they were having before.

You settle in the seat, pointedly staring at the back of Namjoon’s head. You could feel Yoongi’s stare, burning into the side of your head and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of glancing his way.

You promised Seokjin you’d behave, that the few words you’d share with Yoongi – if any – would be civil.

You’ve known Yoongi for years, running in between the same circle of friends. The first time you’d met him, Seokjin had warned you not to take his lack of words and uninterested expression to heart. You hadn’t, some people are like that – you’re aware. Yoongi constantly had his guard up, never letting anyone get closer than he would allow.

It’s not easy to sit in a room with him, even amongst your friends. It’s awkward, painfully so. You’re not sure why he rubs you the wrong way, maybe it’s something about his vibe. The way he carries himself like he’s king shit, able to command a room with a flick of his wrist.

You and Yoongi always bicker, even without saying anything at all. There’s a tension that’s strung between you both, like a tight coil that only curls tighter the closer you are to each other. Like now, sitting a few inches away from him, even though he’s said nothing else to you, eyes stuck petulantly out the window.

You cross your arms, leaning back into the seat, trying to let Seokjin and Namjoon’s conversation drown your thoughts. Even though you could care less about the going ins of their shared psychology classes.

The drive out of town was otherwise a quiet one, with You and Yoongi ignoring each other – save the moment Seokjin turned a corner too quickly for you to brace. Catching yourself against Yoongi’s side, he scowled at you, and you acted as though you touched old, wet food in your kitchen sink.

Seokjin would glance at you both in the rear view, perfect brows furrowed as his gaze shifts between you. He and Namjoon seem to sense the growing, awkward tension from the backseat, and try their best to pull you into a conversation.

You couldn’t be happier to see the flashing strobe lights off the break in the main road. The first spring fair of the season, filled to the brim with all the food you can eat and rides and attractions to get yourself sick on.

You tumble out of the car, grateful for the fresh air tinted with the scent of popcorn, sweets and what have you. There’s a short line at the ticket booth, where you spot Jimin’s cotton candy hair, waiting for you with the rest of your friends like they promised.

You trail towards them without waiting for the others, sneaking over to Hoseok, whose back was to you. He’s caught in an animated conversation with Jungkook, his distinctive cackle reaching your ears as he leans forward with his laugh waving his hand to stop Jungkook saying what you can’t hear.

You poke your fingers into his sides, and the man yells, grabbing at Taehyung and spinning him around while darting behind his back.

“Y/n!” Taehyung’s smile is infectious, and you can’t help your own even as Hoseok spews a couple of swears at you for scaring him.

Jimin leans over, hands on his knees as he laughs at Hoseok.

“You made it.” He says, once he’s calmed, straightening up to throw an arm around your shoulders.

You pinch softly at his finger, “Just barely, no thanks to you,” Glancing over your shoulder as Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi draw near. “You left me to suffer.”

Greetings are exchanged as you all move up in line to get tickets. You’re tucked happily between Jimin and Hoseok, a good two people away from Yoongi as he lingers behind Seokjin, brooding and complaining about something. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you roll your eyes anyway.

Once everyone gets their tickets, and the little wristbands are snug against your wrists, you all make it past the entrance.

The fair is supposed to be here for a couple of nights, with their pretty lights and flashy entertainers that mingle about doing their jobs. You’re not sure where to start first, standing close together like sardines in a tin while Namjoon tries to talk over the sound of screaming children and other fair-goers.

He’s explaining why a buddy system is necessary, as though you’re not all adults that can look after yourselves. Though, you appreciate the man’s concern for everyone’s wellbeing and safety.

You travel as a group at first, heading over to the food stands to get snacks while you all decide what games to go play. Eventually the group breaks apart, everyone finding something that catches their eyes, and you stick with Jimin and Hoseok through most of it.

Hoseok’s stealing from your paper bag of popcorn, watching Jimin throw darts for a prize a little ways away. There’s a little squirrel plush on a key chain swinging from your finger – something Hoseok won over at the cans booth.

Jimin waddles over, a pout on his lips after all his darts fell short, and you try to cheer him up; the games are rigged anyway.

“No, he just sucks.”

You swat a giggling Hoseok, unraveling yourself away from his arm and stealing fingers. Jimin lifts a long leg to playfully kick at him, and you pass him your popcorn, lips and tongue feeling raw from the salt and butter.

“Do you guys know where the bathrooms are in this place? The soda’s finally caught up to me.” You glance around, trying to see any indication of the signs that would lead you to the restrooms.

“Yeah, we passed them back there.” Hoseok points a thumb over his shoulder, but is otherwise too busy to pay you any mind, trying to get his fingers back into the popcorn. He gives you a double take as you quickly walk away, “Hey! Don’t go off alone.”

“I’m a big girl Hobi, just wait here. I’ll be back!”

You weave your way through the crowd, lost amongst the children surrounding a colorfully dressed clown doing tricks. You go past the man with the cotton candy crafted into intricate designs, and the teenagers showing their strength on the meter.

You find the little blue sign on a pole, white letters standing out against it. The area is quiet, away from the tinkling sounds of the attractions and people. A straight pebbled pathway leads up to a small concrete building, a buzzing white light flickers over the bathrooms separated by coloured doors. You slip into the ladies room and quickly sort yourself out.

You’re washing your hands, eager to return to where Hoseok and Jimin are waiting when you hear it. There’s a little sniffling, and a low voice over it somewhere outside.

Drying your hands with a paper towel, you step down the concrete steps and spot the form of Min Yoongi, crouched at the beginning of the pathway.

“It’s okay...”

He’s talking to someone, and making your way over, you realize it’s a boy. The child is gripping a stuffed bear, nodding at Yoongi who lifts a hand to wipe his tears away.

You’re not sure why the sight shocks you so, you didn’t think the man had a soft bone in his body. You stop short of reaching him, and of course he hears the crunch of your sneakers on the pebbled path. He looks over his shoulder at you, for a brief moment, his eyes look hopeful, but it quickly dims at the sight of you. Eyebrows dropping into a glare you’re familiar with.

“Oh. It’s just you.” Yoongi sighs as he turns away, as though seeing you was a great inconvenience. He stands up, offering a hand to the boy who takes it without hesitation.

Ignoring Yoongi entirely, you smile at the child, “Is this big grumpy guy scaring you?”

The boy giggles, and you’re glad to make him smile even at Yoongi’s expense. “Is he lost?”

Yoongi stares at you for a long moment, mouth curling as though he’s not sure if he should answer you or not. Dark eyes narrowing slightly at you, he gives a curt nod but says nothing.

He didn’t ask you to, but you trail next to him anyways when he starts walking. You ask the boy where the last place he saw his parents was; he’s not too certain. You don't blame him, big place like this can be confusing with all the flashing lights that look the same.

“I’m taking him to the security booth.” Yoongi’s words are clipped – tense, as you follow him. He glances at you, “You don’t have to come with me.”

Normally, you’d try your best not to be in his vicinity—it’s better for the both of you that way, but you like annoying him. You like the satisfaction of getting under his skin the same way he does yours. You shrug, taking the little boy’s other hand.

The child looks up between the both of you, brows furrowed, “Are you fighting? My mom and dad fight sometimes, too! Dad said that it’s normal for grown ups who love each other to fight sometimes.”

You choke on air, smacking your free hand against your chest. You’re not sure if it’s because of your saliva getting stuck in your throat, or the burn of embarrassment that this child would assume such a thing that makes your skin flush.

Kids, they really do say the darndest things.

Yoongi’s taking it a bit better, though he looks pale, mouth opening before it closes a few times. He glances at you, makes a face, and promptly releases the boy’s hand. He wipes his hand against his jeans before taking it again.

“His hand’s all sweaty.” The boy whispers loudly, giggling as though your near death was amusing.

“We don’t—we aren’t...” You struggle, eyes darting to anywhere that isn’t into the big brown eyes of the little boy, or Yoongi, who of course, isn’t even looking at you. “Oh look! There’s the booth!”

You follow Yoongi’s lead, to the booth that was well lit, and a security guard is talking to a distressed couple. The man is talking quickly, shaking a photo at the guard.

The boy wiggles out of your and Yoongi’s grips, running as fast as his little legs can carry him.

You and Yoongi follow behind, as the couple turn at the boy’s call for them. Yoongi explains that he’d found him wandering near the bathrooms, waving off the couple’s repeated thanks.

They bow and thank you again before they leave, the little boy securely on his father’s hip, waving at you both. Yoongi gives him a smile, waving back, a smile that quickly drops as he turns to you. “D’you need help finding Jimin and Hoseok?” His eyes flicker down to where the squirrel plush swings from the belt loop in your jeans.

The words are taunting and there’s a gleam in his eyes that leaves you unsure if he’s joking or not. You huff, crossing your arms, “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, the way you act all the time.” He says, walking off, but you’re not letting him have the last word.

“As if you’re any better.” You trail behind him, glaring daggers into his broad back and hoping that he trips on air. You suck your teeth, pure pettiness leading you to follow behind him and not go your own way.

You’re not sure why it’s always this way. There’s a need to be as far away from him as you possibly can be, if to just spare yourself the headache, but also, a need that swirls beneath it to be near. You’re not sure what to make of that and you try not to think of it. Try to bury it down, put a lid on it and leave it to rot in a corner somewhere.

You don’t like him, and that’s just it, there’s nothing more to that, nothing you have to sit and bust your brain over.

You bump into Yoongi’s back when he suddenly stops walking. He hangs his head, turning a sharp gaze at you, “Can you stop following me like a puppy? People are gonna start thinking we’re friends or something.”

You scowl, “Who said I was following you?” you were, though. “We’re just walking in the same direction, stupid.”

“Did you just call me stupid?” He turns to face you fully – a little too close to you, honestly. There’s a twitch in his eye that reveals his annoyance.

“It’s not like I’m saying something wrong. I think you’re stupid and I’m telling you.” The fact that you have to look up at him doesn’t deter you, returning the glare he refuses to let waver. “I can call you something much worse if you’re into that.”

“Brat.” Yoongi’s lips curl into a sneer, and he’s about to open his mouth again when a voice stops him.

“My, my.” You both turn your heads to the side, to find a smiling elderly woman. Her gaze flickers between the both of you with a sort of knowing glint, “You two are quite the pair.”

You sigh harshly through your nose, already agitated and not needing another person assuming that something’s going on between you and Yoongi.

She’s wearing a dark flowing robe of sorts, her hands adorned with silver rings that catch on the lights and beaded bracelets that clink softly together. You eye her silver dream catcher necklace with a slight frown.

Yoongi takes a step away from you, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Can we help you?” His voice is softer, a far cry from the tone he uses with you.

The woman laughs, and there’s something about the sound that makes you want to hide behind Yoongi’s back. There’s something not quite right here, about her, but you’re not sure why sirens are going off in your head.

“Help me? No.” She smiles, “But I can help you.”

You and Yoongi share a look, and you’re certain you’ve somehow wandered to some part of the fair where all the weird people hang out. Lifting a hand, you discreetly tug on the back of Yoongi’s sweater, motioning your head to the direction you came from when he glances at you. You’re hoping he catches your drift, even if it’s with him, you’d like to leave the presence of this strange woman.

“No thanks.” Yoongi says curtly, and surprisingly, gently ushers you away with a hand against your back.

“You two have a past.” The woman calls, and for some reason, you and Yoongi both stop. “I can show it to you.”

She’s probably part of the attractions - here to make money just like everyone else. It’s not uncommon to find folk like her in places like this, where susceptible people are lured into paying a pretty penny for baseless words. It calls to you though, for some reason, you’re not sure, but you turn to look at her first.

She smiles at you, and you turn back.

“Ignore her.” Yoongi says, trying to urge you forward, even though he himself has yet to move. “C’mon.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the woman is persistent, it seems, as she speaks again. “I’d be doing you both a favor.”

Yoongi sighs, the warmth of his hand leaving your back as he turns. You turn too, and you’re locked in a silent stare-off with the woman.

“I don’t think she’ll leave us alone.” Yoongi mumbles quietly to you, and against your better judgment, you follow him as he walks back. “People do this all the time, so don’t pay mind to whatever she has to say.”

You nod quietly, reaching the smiling woman. She leads you both a little further, to the edge of the fair where most people seem to stray away from. There’s a large tent instead of a booth like you expected, taking up a large space. The flap is down, swaying slightly in the soft breeze that blows by – she’s really playing into her act; you’re – dare you say – impressed.

She raises the flap and allows you and Yoongi to walk in first. The first thing you notice is the scent of incense burning, a sweet smell that gives you a slight headache the more you inhale it. There’s a raised wooden platform covered by a soft rug, and both you and Yoongi step out of your shoes before stepping on it.

It’s awfully quiet, the sounds of the fair fading away outside. There’s not much to the place really, but unease curls in your stomach nonetheless. In some places around the tent, there’s candle holders on tall staffs, a fire hazard you don’t have time to mull over. There’s a table in the center, short legged and low to the floor, a few sitting cushions scattered around it. A stack of what you assume is tarot cards on the table, a silver kettle next to it, and a pile of books in a corner.

“Sit opposite each other, please.” The woman kindly requests, moving around to a corner where a tray with three small cups sat. Then, she takes a seat on one of the cushions on the floor after setting the cups down. She looks up at you both expectedly, and Yoongi hesitates for a moment before leaving your side.

You follow suit, settling cross-legged on the cushion facing Yoongi who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

The woman pours steaming liquid into the cups from the idle kettle, filling the cups small cups only halfway before sliding one to each of you.

You ignore the cup of whatever near your hand, knowing better than to drink something a random stranger gives you.

Silently, the woman takes up the deck of cards, shuffling them in her hands. She shuffles until six cards fall out of her motion, and then another. She stares at them and chuckles, hovering a hand over the cards. She suddenly looks at you and you startle a bit, looking away.

She slides three cards in front of you, and three to Yoongi, and places the seventh in the center between you both. You stare at the cards, not sure what to make of what you’re looking at.

The woman leans over, bony, wrinkled finger tapping at the cards one by one as she tells you their names, “The Tower, upright. The moon, reversed. Four of wands, upright.”

She does the same for Yoongi, “The Chariot, reversed. The Sun, reversed. Two of cups, upright.”

She moves her finger to the card in the middle, “The Lovers, upright.” She hums cryptically, nodding more to herself, “Lots of misfortune.”

Why are you here again? This was Yoongi’s idea.

You look up from your set of cards to find Yoongi already staring at you. You don’t like the feeling you’re getting, something pulling at the edge of your mind that you leave this weird lady, find your friends and be on your way. You’re not sure you want to hear what the woman has to say, but you’re curious about the cards and what they mean, as you look back down to the shimmering gold against black.

You’re not too into tarot cards, never once had a need to know about them, even with your curious self. There’s a sense of foreboding curling in your stomach, dread that makes your hands sweat where they’re curled atop your knees.

“These aren’t for your current lives, but one of your past ones.” The woman says, and you try your very best to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve had quite a few before you ended up here, together again.”

Yoongi doesn’t fight the urge to roll his eyes and he does so without a care, nodding his head; clearly unconvinced.

“Sure.” He scoffs, looking at you, a small twitch sends his brows upward for a tick; she’s clearly trying to scam you both.

The woman purses her lips, her dark eyes narrowing a fraction, staring at Yoongi who doesn’t bother to look back. She looks very much the type to throw a slipper. That’d be funny, you think, would serve him right.

Just to annoy him further, you perk up, turning slightly to face the woman. “What do they mean?”

There’s a glint in her eyes when she smiles, it honestly makes you regret asking. She raises a hand, motioning at your cup, “Drink the tea.”

Yoongi lets out a deep chuckle, “You expect us to just drink this? There could be anything in there.”

“It's just some herbs, nothing harmful.” She lifts her own cup, “I’ll drink mine first.”

You’d both seen her pour it, and it eases you a bit that she drinks first. At least you know it’s not poisoned or drugged, unless she’s actually crazy enough.

She sets her cup down once she’s done, and motions a hand to yours. You look from her, to the cup, and then to Yoongi.

I’ll kill you if we die here.

You hope that in Yoongi’s arsenal of skills that he could read minds. So he could hear your threat and be very afraid, because you’re serious.

You lift your cup, the warmth of it a blessing to your cold fingers. The steam smells of something herbal, and you hope to god that it’s only that. Yoongi does the same, and on a mental count of three, you drink. There wasn’t much in the small cup, a quick second to swallow and it was gone, burning your tongue just slightly and blooming warmth in your chest.

Nothing happens for a moment, where you and Yoongi stare at each other as though waiting for mushrooms to sprout at the top of your heads. You lift the shoulder the woman can’t see from her side of the table in a shrug.

It’s really just herbal tea.

Which would’ve been a nice thought, if you hadn’t suddenly felt like the world slowed down around you. Your body feels as though it’s sinking, weighed down by some unseen force. Uncrossing your legs, you shift, trying to stand, but don’t get much further than pressing your palms against the ground.

“Y/n?”

Yoongi’s calling you, you think. His voice sounds so far away, though, like there’s a wall between you both. He’s not looking much better than you, there’s a glassy look to his eyes as he struggles to blink. As you fall back against the soft rug, Yoongi reaches forward to try and grasp at you, sending the cups and cards scattering, fingers just brushing your own.

You don’t feel yourself hitting the floor, nor did you hear the sound of the cups clattering with Yoongi’s movement. You do hear a strange song being crooned out by the woman, who you watch with rapidly darkening vision as she moves around the tent lighting candles. Unconcerned by you and Yoongi trying to cling to consciousness.

You don’t understand the words she’s singing, and you’re so tired, you barely have it in you to care.

You’ll just close your eyes, just for a minute.

There’s birds chirping, whistling their sweet songs that travel in the warm summer breeze. Strange. It’s too late in the evening for birds, and the sun had set an hour ago, but it’s nice and warm on your cheek. Not to mention, summer is a good couple of months away.

Your eyes snap open, scrambling to get up, you find yourself in a field of swaying grass. There’s a rushing sound of a river a few feet away, that you could barely see below a dip in the earth, flowing freely and endlessly through...wherever you are.

Glancing around, you find a dense forest behind you a good ways away, animals big and small skittering through the trees. A pathway that looks well trodden weaves and twists from it, veering off from where you sat and down the incline. There’s flowers, swaying in the breeze and butterflies fluttering to and fro. The sky is a beautiful blue, spotted with white puffs of cloud that drift leisurely.

Are you dead? Is this what heaven looks like?

“Y/n!”

Your head snaps to your left at the call of your name. Yoongi’s running over to you, blades of grass sticking out of his dark hair and clinging to his clothes.

No, this is hell.

He doesn’t offer you a hand to get up as you do. Chivalry is in fact dead and buried.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi asks, eyes wide as he looks around – just as confused as you are. This is the most expressive you’ve seen this man ever. His brows draw together, furrowing as he turns to look at you as though you had all the answers.

“Yeah, sure. Ask me, who’s in the same damn situation. Do I look like I know what’s going on?” You grumble, feeling stress pulling at your muscles. “I personally think we’re dead. Though, I’m not sure we’re in heaven.” You side eye him.

Yoongi looks like he has something to say about that remark, because he always has to open his stupid mouth to reply.

A scowl, familiar and not at all unwarranted curls at his lips. He opens his mouth but stops short, leaning slightly to your right, looking somewhere behind you.

“There’s a kid over there.” He points a finger, and you turn to follow it. Sure enough, there’s a boy standing at the forest edge.

The clothes he wears look too big for his frame, long sleeves hanging off his arms, the legs of his pants rolled up to his knees. He bounces on the balls of his feet, stops, and paces a little, looking back into the forest. It seems like he’s waiting for someone.

There’s something about the child that strikes you with familiarity. You don’t know the boy, never seen him in your life, but you feel as though you have. It’s the same feeling you get when you’ve met someone for the first time, but it feels as though you’ve known them all your life.

“Yoongi...” You say his name softly, not actually calling out to him, but the man behind you hums in question. You glance his way for just a second, “No. Not...not you. Him. He’s – that’s you.”

The child, of course, looks nothing like the man that hovers behind you. You just know, though.

There’s a scoff, soft, but you hear it anyway. “And you were calling me stupid. Did you hit your head or something?”

Sighing you turn to face him, “She said that she’d show us. I don’t think we’re dead.”

“Or.” Yoongi puts a finger up, “We got drugged and having a very lucid shared dream right now.”

You both stare at each other, you take a breath, “That’s fucking stupid. You’re stupid. We can’t share dreams, Yoongi.”

You spin on your heel, marching off in the direction of the child at the forest edge. You can hear Yoongi following behind you, grumbling under his breath.

The boy doesn’t seem to notice your approach, even though he’s staring in your direction. He’s young, looking to be about ten years old, and a little anxious as he picks up a long stick and swings it at the grass.

“Okay, let’s say you’re correct – hypothetically – what exactly are we supposed to do?” Yoongi finally seems to notice the grass in his hair, raising a hand to pull them out of the long strands.

You shrug, “Just watch, I guess? He can’t even see us.” You wave a hand in front of the child who doesn’t react. You feel like you’re standing in a simulation, not at all dream-like, as everything feels very real. You can feel the grass, the breeze, and the warm sun that dips behind a passing cloud.

The boy wanders off, jogging down the path towards the river. You watch him do so, as he stumbles a bit over something before catching himself and continuing onward. Before he could run down the little incline, someone’s darting out of the forest behind him and tackles him to the grass.

A girl, wearing a raggedy brown cotton dress and no shoes. “Caught you!”

Then, you’re suddenly standing in water. The river rushes around your legs, soaking into your jeans. The sudden shift in scenery sends you stumbling forward, Yoongi offers you a hand this time. Helping you out of the river and over large, slippery rocks.

The boy and the girl are playing a little ways away, near the bank, splashing water at each other. They play for a moment, before going up to where the grass field meets the damp earth, sitting quietly.

They don’t say much, looking like they had too much on their young minds.

“We should try to get back before sundown...” the girl mumbles, letting her head rest against the boy’s shoulder with a sigh, “We got in trouble last time.”

“We got lost, it wasn't our fault.” The boy grumbles, picking up a shiny stone and holds it up to the sun. “Here, this one’s pretty.” He hands it to the girl, smiling at her.

“Someday, when I get us out of here... I’ll get you prettier ones.” He wiggles his pinky at her, they link their pinky fingers and press their thumbs together, “I promise.”

The view suddenly changes again and you’re standing in the middle of a bustling village market. There’s people yelling prices, a flock of scrambling chickens, a group of children playing with some type of ball and you find the boy running past you and Yoongi. He looks a little older, and his clothes fit him better now, silk instead of cotton. The shift is disorientating, leaving you a little dizzy.

“Let’s follow him.” Yoongi grabs your hand, ignoring the sounds of protest you make as he tugs you behind him.

You follow the boy through the market, weaving and ducking through people and market stalls to keep up. He’s quite the runner, and you lose him more than a couple times in the chase.

He leads you both out of the market and into the small village on the outskirts where he finally slows down. His steps stay quick paced, as he rounds a corner and walks over to a small wooden house surrounded by a wooden fence.

There’s a woman in the yard shaking out white cloth and throwing them on roped lines strung between the trees within the fence. She waves at the boy, calls out a name you can’t hear even though you’re certain she shouted it.

The door swings open and out hops the girl, she too, a little older than when you first saw her. She runs over to the fence before the woman – who you assume is her mother – stops her.

“Shoes.” She points back at the house, and even though the girl grumbles, she quickly runs back inside. She’s back out a moment later wearing dark slip-on cotton shoes that honestly don’t look like they offer much protection. “Be back before sundown!”

The kids yell out an affirmative, as they both take off running again.

“Why the hell are they running so much?” Yoongi groans, and only then you realize he’s still holding your hand.

You snatch your hand away from his grip, “Afraid you can’t keep up, gramps?”

“Fuck off.”

You both follow as they run through the forest, their laughter echoing between the trees. You recognise the field on the other side, back where you started, near the river.

“Wait, wait,” The boy stops the girl with a hand, “I have something for you.” He digs around his pockets, pulling out a necklace. There’s a pretty opal stone that shimmers against the light hanging on twine. He puts it around her neck, smiling at her.

“It's beautiful.” She’s looking at the necklace, at the opal that hangs in the center. He’s looking at her when he agrees.

It’s raining, cold harsh rain coming out of the sky like bullets. The children are no longer children, taking shelter under the large tree that keeps them a little drier than they would be otherwise.

You and Yoongi rush to stand under it, too. Not that standing there helps much, rain water drips steadily through the spaces in the leaves. The two are talking, unbothered by the fact that they’re both shivering and completely soaked.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, just as a shudder runs through you.

It’s strange, but all of this is anyway, that you can feel everything that goes on around you. Yoongi’s cold too, lengthy hair plastered to his skin. He wraps his arms around himself, teeth chattering as he waits for you to answer.

“Yeah...cold though.” You chuckle a bit, and you’re surprised when he pulls you to his side with an arm around your shoulders. You guess you can suck it up to share warmth.

“Marry me.” The boy suddenly says, startling you, Yoongi and the girl, who blinks at him without saying anything.

“Marry – but...your father wouldn’t-“

“I could care less what he thinks.” He says, turning his head to look out at the pelting rain, “What he thinks doesn’t matter.” He takes the girl’s hands in his own, thumbs softly running over her knuckles. “I can take you far away from here, we could go anywhere. Just like I promised.”

You feel like you’re intruding on something private. Though, you’re aware of what this is, you and Yoongi, who knows how many lifetimes ago. The Lover’s card comes to mind, and you step away from Yoongi’s hold.

He doesn’t stop you, looking a bit uncomfortable, though, that could’ve been because he was cold. Definitely not because he’s watching his past self propose to your past self.

“Okay.” The girl is smiling, a happy glow to her cheeks despite the way she shivers. Her fiancé laughs between peppering her face with kisses.

You and Yoongi stare at the rain.

It’s warm, the night sky dotted with a million stars that twinkle. You don’t think you’ve ever seen that many stars in the sky before, and you stare up at them in wonder.

You and Yoongi walk side by side behind the boy and the girl, much more grown up now. You’ve gotten used to the shift, sighing, you gaze around at the new scenery.

They’re on an evening stroll, in a village very different from where they grew. He’s wearing silk and she is too, they’re happy, arms linked together as they have a conversation neither you nor Yoongi can hear.

“How long do you think we’d be here for?” Yoongi questions softly as he keeps your pace. Walking close enough that your arm brushes against his, your clothes are miraculously dried, no longer clinging to you and you’re no longer cold.

“I don’t know,” You sigh, looking up at him, “We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”

Yoongi hums, and there’s something in his eyes that’s different as he watches you. You don’t let the thought linger, grateful when he turns away, you motion at the couple ahead of you with a tilt of your chin. “They seem happy.”

“They do.” Yoongi agrees softly, as the sound of their soft giggling reaches your ears. “The cards though...she said there was misfortune.”

The wind is harsh, kicking up loose dirt outside and rattling the windows. The last rays of sunshine are being hidden by rolling gray clouds, leaving the world outside the windows bleak. The air is tense, your and Yoongi’s past selves seem to be in some kind of stare-off from opposite sides of the room.

“You just had to say it, huh?”

The inside of their home is small and comfortable. There’s an entry way that’s parted by the walls of the kitchen to the right, and the living room where they stand to the left. There’s a rocking chair under the lone window, a basket of different coloured threads, a shirt that lays unfinished tucked into a corner.

Lit candles flicker and dance in a draft, sending shadows scattering across every surface, making the room a little darker in intervals and less of a comfort. They’re quiet, and you’re not sure what they were arguing about, but it looks to be something big.

The man is the first to move, stomping off through the entryway to the door. He grabs a cloak off a hook in the wall and tugs the door open against the harsh winds, and the woman follows. She stands in the entryway, staring at his back with angry, tear filled eyes.

“If you walk out of this house. I will never forgive you.”

The man glances at his wife, and steps out without another word, slamming the door closed.

Yoongi leans against the wall, arms crossed as he watches on. You have no choice but to stay near him, with nothing more to do than watch as well.

The woman paces for a moment, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes with a drawn out, frustrated sigh. “He never listens.”

The sun sets and her husband doesn’t return. She’s sitting in the kitchen, where she cleans a wooden vase slowly. She’s long calmed down, stopping to stare out the window where the night draws on. She looks worried, a furrow in her brow as she sets the cloth and vase down.

The door swings open, slamming against the wall behind it. Leaves rustle into the house, and a man, who isn’t her husband, stands in the doorway.

She gets up from her seat at the table, stepping quickly out into the open space of the entryway. “I was beginning to think I’d have to come looking for you..”

There’s dread curling in your stomach when she pauses, realizing that the man isn’t who she thinks. He walks forward with heavy steps, and she stumbles back and away from his approach.

The man’s face is a blur to you, but he backs her into a corner, a sharp blade against her throat. It feels as though the knife is pressing into your own skin.

Yoongi takes your hand before you can reach for him. The man asks her where their valuables are, and she points to a corner in the living room, telling him it’s under the floorboard.

While he’s busy taking them out and stuffing everything into a bag, she’s eyeing the entryway. Chest rising and falling quickly as she looks between the crouched man and her only escape.

She darts off, tripping over her skirts, but doesn’t make it far. There’s another man at the door, and she runs into him and the knife he holds.

You gasp as she does, and Yoongi catches you as your weight suddenly drops heavily against him. Your fingers dig into the material of your sweater, at the softness of your stomach where a sharp phantom pain blooms.

“What?” Yoongi gently leans you to stand upright, firm grip steadying you. He bends his knees a little, ducking his head to meet your gaze with his worried one. “What’s wrong?”

There's a gasping cry behind him, one that the other men in the room ignore. Yoongi stands between you and the sight of her, blocking your view of the woman. You hear a crash, something breaking and a dull thud.

Something like sorrow settles in your chest violently, heavy and suffocating. It tightens around your lungs and throat, sends numbness rippling into the ends of your fingers. You lean forward to press your forehead against Yoongi’s collarbone. His fingers dance behind your neck and he holds you there.

You’re not sure what he’s saying to you, but the low timber of his voice brings you a comfort you never expected to receive from him. His other hand splays against your lower back and you could feel the warmth of it.

The men spend a few more minutes looking around for anything they can take, and they leave. Crossing over the woman as though she isn’t there, as though blood isn’t soaking through the fine silk she wears and pooling beneath her.

Lightning flashes, and thunder claps behind it. You’re standing outside – the rain is falling again. You and Yoongi stand and watch as the woman’s husband returns. He finds the door of his home swinging on its hinges, rattled by the harsh winds of the storm.

The rose he holds flutters to the ground, swallowed up by the mud and rain. He runs into the house and finds his wife.

The storm didn’t drown out his cries.

The edges of the world seem to fray, like a burning photo tossed into a flame. Yoongi is still holding onto you, his palm warm against your cold cheek. Images flicker by faster than you can see them, you only catch one: the man, on the cusp of his now meaningless existence.

Amongst the chaos, Yoongi’s voice is clear.

“Y/n – Hey. Listen to me,” Yoongi calls, and you gaze at him unseeingly, dazed, as the twinges of pain finally fade. “She’s not you, okay? Focus on me. She’s not you.”

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, “Yoongi...”

And suddenly you’re sinking. You’re inhaling water and there’s nothing for you to grasp onto. It’s night, but you recognize the river bank, back where you started. Though, you’re in the river, the storm brought the water crashing downstream. You can’t hear anything besides the roaring water, you can’t see Yoongi anywhere.

You see a man walking into the water, his clothes sullied with mud, and he simply lets the river take him.

Gasping for air, you sit up, forehead knocking right into Yoongi’s. He’s coughing as though he’s drowned, falling back on his ass into damp grass.

“Fuck.” He clutches at his forehead with a hiss, glaring at you with red-rimmed eyes. “Your head made of rock or something? Jesus.”

You look around frantically, the pain of knocking your head against Yoongi's the last thing on your mind. It’s night, the sun had only set an hour ago. There’s the tinkling sounds of the fair of the muddled voices of people far away. The tent, and the strange woman are gone, you’re both sitting on an empty plot of grass where the tent should have been.

You grasp the front of Yoongi’s sweater in your fist, shaking him hard. “Yoongi! We’re back!”

He stops glaring at you long enough to take in the surroundings. Realizing too, that you’re both sitting exactly where you were before this mess started, just now it’s an empty space.

It’s like the woman was never here.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks you first, gaze soft, checking you over, even though you’re both fine, looking no different from how you did when you entered the tent. His palm is against your cheek again, brows furrowed with worry. You allow it though, as the feeling grounds you.

“I think so...” You whisper, nodding, “You?”

“I feel like I just died but yeah. I’m okay.”

Quietly, you both sit there, not saying much else after. You’re trying to wrap your head around everything, and you’re sure Yoongi’s doing the same. Neither of you question the missing tent, and the strange woman that’s also gone.

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, burning in your nose. There’s a lump in your throat when you swallow.

“Some life, huh?” The chuckle you let out is mirthless, and you draw your legs close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. The tragedy of the two children you followed for what seemed like hours, has burned itself into your mind and refuses to leave.

You’re not certain if any of that was even real, but the burning of your throat and the memory of the pain you’d felt convinces you otherwise.

Yoongi’s fingers brushes you, gently, comforting. “Some life.”

“Guys! I found them!”

You both look up to find Jungkook, and the rest of your friends jogging over.

Yoongi helps you stand, dusting the damp grass that clings to your clothes off you.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” Seokjin is shouting, and you’re not even sure he actually wants to know. “We’ve been looking for you guys for two hours!”

Tiredness sinks into your limbs, and you’d rather fall face first into your bed than listening to Seokjin’s scolding.

“I wanna go home.” You say, still not moving from your spot next to Yoongi.

“You guys okay?” Jimin’s eyes dart from you to Yoongi, and you can only guess what you both look like right now. Probably like you’ve seen your past lives and some circle of hell; you’ll never recover.

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods, and without another word, grabs your hand and pulls you forward through your shared group of friends. You couldn’t be bothered with the weird looks they all give you at that.

Yoongi? Holding your hand? Must be Christmas or something.

You let him pull you away, ignoring the calls of your names behind you. Or Namjoon complaining about his buddy system, or Seokjin going off like a worried parent.

Only when you’re settled in the car, you relax. Sitting next to Yoongi, who isn’t actively trying to be as far away from you as he could be. Instead he’s pressed to your side - you don’t mind - you’re tired and he’s warm. You rest your head against his shoulder.

Seokjin and Namjoon were walking the others back to Jimin’s car, most likely gossiping about you both.

You stuff your cold hands into the pocket pouch of your sweater, looking down at it in some confusion as you find something in there. Cold, small and sleek against your fingertips.

You pull the rectangular thing out, and promptly drop it. It flutters into Yoongi’s lap, the gold against black markings of the Lover’s card stares back up at you both.

Yoongi’s fingers fumble for it before you can, tucking the card away into the pocket of his own sweater. “Don’t think about it.”

“Kind of hard not to.” You shift away from him, leaning your side against the door. “I don’t know what she wants us to do with...all that...”

“Maybe she was just trying to tell us to stop being dicks to each other.” His voice is soft, a like chuckle following it and he turns his head to look at you. He sticks his left hand out, “We should start over.”

You roll your eyes – not in the way you would before, but playfully. There’s something entirely different about the way you regard each other, sitting near one another without a complaint or a harsh remark.

Yoongi wiggles his long fingers at you, “C’mon, I’m serious. We can’t have gone through that and still hate each other...” He tilts his head to catch your gaze, smiling, gums and all. “My hand’s getting tired here.”

Chuckling you give in, pressing your palm against his own in a shake. He chuckles with you, the sound more a puff of air and a shake of his shoulders. After a moment he quiets, still holding your hand, still staring at you. A thumb draws circles at the back of your hand.

“You felt it didn’t you?” He asks softly, as though something would break if he spoke any louder, “Does it still hurt?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You splay your hand against your stomach anyway, an echo of the pain that just doesn’t want to leave skitter beneath your fingers. You eye the strip of skin you can see above the neck of his turtleneck sweater, a little flushed like he’s bruised it. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

You hear Seokjin’s squeaky laugh before you see him, waving with his whole body outside his car door. Namjoon’s already getting in, stuffing a large koala plush between his knees to buckle his seat belt.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t killed each other in here.” Namjoon says, turning a bit in his seat to flicker his gaze between you both. Dimples sink into his cheeks with his smile, but says nothing as Seokjin comes in.

The car rumbles to life, heat coming through the vents. Seokjin sticks a hand out the window to wave at Jimin’s turning car, he eyes you both through the rear-view. “So either of you gonna tell me where you disappeared to for two hours?”

“Ah,” Yoongi says, waving a hand, “We had a talk.”

“Uh-huh.” Seokjin nods, unconvinced.

You let your head rest against Yoongi’s shoulder, lulled by the drive and the soft music coming from the radio. The comfort of Yoongi still holding your hand, and the weight of his head leaning against yours.

You’d probably have a lot to talk about, as of right now, you have no idea what to do with the information you’re still trying to process. So you lock it away for a moment when you’re not too tired, when you could think about it with a clear head. When sleep doesn’t tug your eyelids closed, and Yoongi isn’t pressed against you.

Tagging: @blog-name-idk @luaspersona @eoieopda @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @mssukeyna @madbutgloriouspond @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @euphoricfilter @ketchupaeternum @matchy6812 @eren-fall

[free-pool-trash]

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

[watchmegetobsessed]

A STEP FURTHER

Sequel to SIT ON ME

a/n: as per requested, here is a part two to my recent sebastian fic! hope you guys will like it as much as you did the previous part! also, there’s not gonna be any more parts!

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Assistant!Reader

word count: 3k

masterlist

You were expecting it. You knew how the internet and most importantly, Sebastian’s fans work. Just hours after the event, dozens of videos got out of Sebastian saying that he wanted you to sit on him if he was a chair, an answer to a highly inappropriate question that shouldn’t have been asked in the first place, but your crazy ass boss thought otherwise.

It washed over the whole fandom and soon enough everyone was talking about the two of you. And because part of your job is to be up to date about Sebastian’s media presence, you had to face not just him but yourself all over the internet. Fans started to dig up every tiny interaction between the two of you caught on camera, they posted photo montages of you and him just out and about or going from one meeting to the other. They started to look for signs that you’re dating and half of the fandom became convinced that you’re in a secret relationship. Speculations and rumors spread faster than wildfire and there was no way to stop it, you just had to live with it.

In the meanwhile, Sebastian didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. It’s like he didn’t even acknowledge the fuss about the two of you, like it was all so natural and normal to be seen as a couple by the whole world when you were just his employee.

“What? It’s not like I ever addressed anything about my dating life,” he shrugged one day when you asked him why he is not caring about the situation at all. And that was pretty much it.

The fans wouldn’t have been that big of a deal to you either. They are strangers, they always get fixated on something and soon enough you knew something new would come up and make them forget about your existence. The people close to you on the other hand are a whole different side of the story.

Following the event, Mackie wouldn’t shut up about Sebastian being hopelessly in love with you and he would nag you to go on a date already, getting on your nerves even more than he usually does with his nosiness. You love the man, you really do, but he needs to learn how to stay in his own lane.

And then, slowly but surely every friend you and Sebastian shared caught up on the story and they started asking you about it again and again and you had to tell them the same thing every damn time: you and Sebastian were working together, no romance was involved between the two of you.

No one believed you.

Now it’s been weeks and people still go crazy whenever you and Seb step out together, which happens quite often since he’s been having a busy month work-wise. Paparazzi are always following you around, catching every moment you spend out in the public, putting you on the tabloids nonstop. It’s become your usual.

Another day, another event. The day starts early for you before you pick Sebastian up and heading out to have breakfast before you are supposed to show up at the concert hall that’s going to be the venue of today’s interview and Q&A.

“Mackie has been blowing my phone up all morning,” you grumble upon seeing another text from said man before you just turn your phone screen facing down so you can finish your toast in peace.

“What does he want?” Sebastian hums.

“He is asking if I’m coming today, as if I missed any events these past weeks,” you huff shaking your head.

“He has been acting weird,” Sebastian grimaces, reaching for his coffee. “Weirder than his usual,” he adds.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just asks weird stuff,” he shrugs, not paying much attention to it and you decide to do the same.

Not much later, you’re finished with your food, only sipping on your coffee when you spot a group of girls near your table, their phones pointing in your direction and you have to stop yourself from growling, turning a little so you’re not facing the phones entirely. Sebastian notices your discomfort and looking around he spots the girls as well before turning back to face you. He doesn’t say a word, just gets up from his seat and strides over to the group as you watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi girls, can I ask you to delete the pictures you took, please? I’m happy to take selfies with you, just please don’t post the ones of us eating, okay?” you hear him ask them, leaving you completely speechless. Luckily, the girls are happy to obligate and he quickly poses for pictures with all of them before joining you back at the table.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You clearly didn’t like that they took pictures of us and I know you don’t like how we are being talked about recently, so I thought I would… try to help about that a little,” he shrugs, finishing the rest of his coffee.

“I just don’t like that everyone is in our business,” you sigh, folding your arms on your chest as you lean back in your seat.

“So we have business? Together?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you over the table.

“That’s not how I… We talked about this, Seb,” you breathe out, your shoulders falling forward.

“Ages ago. Things might have changed since then,” he suggests shrugging his shoulder.

“I still work for you,” you point it out. “Things are better this way.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mumbles, clearly hurt by your words, but there’s not much you can do against it. “Let’s go, I don’t want Mackie to be up in my ass for being late,” he sighs, leaving the money on the table that most likely covers both your meals and a fat tip as well.

The car ride to the venue is silent, but not in the comfortable way it sometimes is. It’s awkward and you keep glancing at him, trying to find the right words but you’re not even sure what you want to tell him.

I’m sorry we work together so we can’t date? I’m sorry I keep rejecting you? I’m sorry I’m afraid if we go any further than this it will ruin our friendship?

You have absolutely no idea how to deal with it, so you just stay silent, right until you arrive to the venue. Before Seb could get out of the car you speak up.

“Are you mad at me now?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip.

“I’m not mad, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you,” he truthfully answers, his eyes only falling on you after he has spoken.

“But there’s something, I can tell.”

“I’m just a little frustrated, is all.”

“Because of what people say about us?” you make a guess.

“Because there’s this unsaid situation between us and you just don’t let me address it. You don’t want to talk about it and whenever it’s brought up, you just shut the door right at my face,” he explains and with each spoken word, you feel worse and worse.

“It’s a complicated situation,” you breathe out.

“It’s not,” he retorts. “Do you not like me?”

“Of course I like you!”

“Okay, I like you too so why can’t we be more than just friends?”

“Because we are not just friends. I’m working for you, it’s a different situation!”

“Y/N, this is not an office job, there’s no HR, no policies, we can do whatever we want!” he chuckles bitterly as you keep your eyes down. You don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not just because of work, but because you’re terribly afraid of being a disappointment to him if you eventually give it a try.

Your silence doesn’t amuses Sebastian and you don’t have time to rave any longer about the situation.

“Forget it, sorry I brought it up again. Let’s just… get over with this thing,” he mumbles before getting out of the car.

You move around each other like strangers, he is clearly avoiding to even look at you and you’re feeling guilty even though you don’t think you have a reason to. Still, you hate seeing him this upset, especially when it’s because of you.

The change in your act is not that evident, but Mackie immediately notices it. When you walk past him he grabs your wrist and pulls you aside.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks with wide, curious eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you retort, acting innocent, but there’s a reason why you didn’t become an actress, you suck at even lying.

“You and Seb are acting like a divorcing couple!” he whisper-yells. Pursing your lip you start chewing on the inside of your cheek as you nervously tap your foot on the ground.

“We just… had a little disagreement.”

“About what?”

“Us,” you breathe out, your head hanging low.

“Wait, so there is an ‘us’?” he asks, air-quoting the last word and you roll your eyes at him.

“No, that’s what the disagreement was about. He wants and I…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t, because I know that’s bullshit. Y/N, I see the way you look at that man, why are you making it so hard for the both of you?”

“It’s just—It might ruin everything and I can’t afford that right now.”

“Ruin everything?!” he grimaces. “What would it ruin?”

“I said fucking everything!” you snap at him, losing your patience that you’re the only one who has issues with the situation. “Our friendship, my job, everything! And I don’t want that. I can’t have that.”

“Dating someone wouldn’t ruin the friendship, Y/N. This is not middle school. Friendship is part of being with someone and you two have that. Just let it take a step further.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have stuff to do,” you mumble under your breath before walking away from him before he could get another word out.

It’s not that you don’t want it, because you do, you really do. You’ve been in love with the man for a long time and knowing that he has feelings for you too makes you have a heart attack every time you think about it. But you are so afraid it might go south and then you’ll end up losing your job and one of your closest friends as well. Because above everything Sebastian grew to be your biggest confidant, the person you turn to whenever you are feeling down, when you need a shoulder to cry on, you can’t imagine your life without him anymore and it’s not just about the times when you’re working. Traveling around the world with him is a blessing, you love the little moments you share, the late night movie nights in hotel rooms or when you’re exploring a new city together. You love messing around in his trailer when he is filming, making silly videos on sets or playing around with props you shouldn’t even touch. You can share anything with him and vice versa. If you lose him for whatever reason, you would be left with a hole in your life that would just simply never disappear, because no one will ever be like him and that’s a fact. You’re terribly afraid to risk everything for something that might not even work. You might be a horrible item, romance can bring out things of people that haven’t shown before.

The guys finally get on stage and you watch them from the side as always. It goes as usual, they are joking around, making a show, entertaining the audience as they go over the interview before the question round starts. You don’t realize it at first, but you’re holding your breath as one question follows the other, you’re scared someone might ask Sebastian about you and the shit show would blow up again. You can only hope his answer wouldn’t be as stupid as it was before. But luckily, the audience keeps you out of their business, only focusing on what’s important, so you start to feel relieved. Right until the whole event is nearing its end and Mackie decides to take matters into his own hands.

“I think we have time for one more question,” the interviewer announces and dozens of hands shoot up into the air, desperate to get the chance to ask the men on stage, but before anyone could get the mic, Mackie speaks up.

“Actually, can I have that last question?” he chimes in holding up a finger.

“Uh, sure, go ahead!” the interviewer responds, clearly a little puzzled about his request. Mackie then turns to face Sebastian who is sitting on his right and just by the look on his face you already know what it’s gonna be about.

“Sebastian, my question is: What do you love most about Y/N?”

He can barely finish the question, the crowd erupts in cheers and whistles that he had the guts to ask him about you, but you’re feeling different about his ballsy move.

“Mackie! No!” you shout from the side, both men looking your way. Mackie tries to look innocent while Sebastian’s face is unreadable, his piercing blue eyes are just staring right back at you and you wish you could read his mind.

“Alright, I take back the ques—“ Mackie starts in a mumble, but Sebastian is quick to cut him off.

“Nah, I’ll answer,” he simply says, another round of cheering filling the place and you accept defeat.

Squatting down you hug your knees to your chest as you listen to the inevitable answer Sebastian is about to give.

“What I love the most about Y/N is that she is genuinely the best person anyone could ever have in their life. She is so selfless and caring towards others, always got her friends’ back no matter what. I love that we aren’t just simply working together but we are friends too, really good ones and that I know nothing can change that.”

Listening to his soothing voice through the speakers, you feel your throat closing up, especially at the last part he just said. Chewing on your bottom lip you tilt your head to the side as he continues.

“Literally anything can happen, we could have the worst fight ever and I still know that we would make up no matter what. She is… just an amazing and exceptional person.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence and you’re staring at him from afar with teary eyes as his eyes are glued to his hands in his lap.

“Damn,” Mackie breathes out, making everyone laugh and Sebastian’s gaze rises to him with a small smile on his lips.

There’s no time to dwell on his answer, the event needs to end. The interviewer thanks for their time and as the crowd cheers to them they head off the stage, waving at them until they disappear.

You’ve moved to the corner of the room, not wanting to be in the way, but you’re still not over the speech Sebastian just gave about you. As he appears from the stage his eyes are clearly scanning the room, searching for someone and when he finally spots you, his face hardens as he heads in your way. You’re standing with your hand covering your lips, eyes still slightly watered and seeing you like this he knots his eyebrows together in worry.

“Hey, what’s—“

“Did you mean that?” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Did you mean it that nothing can change that?”

“Of course,” he nods, finally seeing what this is all about. “We’ve always found our way back to each other, haven’t we?”

“But dating is so much different than what we do now!” you breathe out, still not entirely sure it’s what you should do.

“Why would it be?” he chuckles softly. “We are already spending the majority of our time together, we know each other better than some couples, it wouldn’t be that big of a change, Y/N. And just like how it could ruin things between us, not taking the step could do the same, because sooner or later it’s gonna be unbearable, one of us might end up dating someone else and that wouldn’t do good to us for sure. I would rather accept the end of it knowing that we gave us a try than not even trying.”

“What if I turn out to be a completely shitty girlfriend?” you ask in a whisper as he steps closer, his hands finding your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, holding them gently. “W-What if I—“

“Shut up,” he cuts you off chuckling. “There’s no chance you are shitty at anything,” he replies teasingly, making you smile the slightest. “But even if you do end up being one, we’ll work on it together.”

His hands guide your hands around his waist, you hold onto his shirt as he cups your face in his hands, his face inching closer until his nose is brushing against yours.

“I really hope you’re right,” you breathe out, giving up to resist it any longer. There’s no use.

“Was I ever not right?” he asks smugly.

“Oh remember when—“

You don’t get to finish, because he silences you the best way possible, his lips smashing onto yours. It’s been long due and it doesn’t disappoint, his lips feel soft and perfect against yours, you can’t help but let out a pleased hum as your hands slide up his toned chest and your arms curl around his neck while his hands find your waist strong arms circling your waist as he pulls you tight against him.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mackie’s voice breaks the moment and as you both pull back and turn in his direction, you see him pump his fist into the air with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Mind your own business, Mackie!” Seb calls out to him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck giggling like a little school girl.

“It’s my business! I made it happen!” Mackie retorts and a laugh rumbles through Seb’s chest.

“I’ll send you a thank you gift card later!” he shouts back before turning to you again, kissing the side of your head.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[lilxberry]

That’s My Girl - Scott Lang

Requested by: @bnhaxreaderquotes​

Could I have a Scott Lang x longterm girlfriend fic?? Where she’s like super strong but super dumb?? Like she’s Thor but human and female XD bonus if she lifts Thor’s hammer to get to something and everyone’s like 👀 and she’s like ??? And scots like 🥰 “that’s my gf”

I loved this idea, I just really didn’t want to use the word stupid so much lmao I mostly referred to reader as “slow” I believe but like, this whole thing is kinda cute asf so I’m happy with it. I hope you’re happy with it too

Warnings: Like, a singular swear. Sweet ass Scott. Upset!Reader? IDEK ANYMORE.

Words: 1,645

Pairings: Scott Lang x Reader (female reader) (super strong reader?)

Unplanned sequel; That’s My Wife

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There’re many words to describe you.

Sweet? Yes. Kind? Yep. Selfless? Definitely. Beautiful? 100%. Strong? No doubt.

Stupid?

No, just…slow.

It’s not that you lacked intelligence, just, your brain worked at a different pace to that of others. Your fellow teammates could tell you that. Especially your partner Scott.

Scott, the sweetie pie that he is, certainly tries his best to help you catch up, to understand things that hadn’t really made sense to you at first. He’s no stranger to defending you either, no matter who or what it’s against.

Including your teammates.

“So, like C-3P0?”

Your head was tilted in confusion and your face was scrunched up as you tried desperately to understand what Tony was talking about.

You had walked into the lab finding all of the Avengers surrounding Tony rambling on about his newest creation, engineering some crazy new robotic tech. The others that had been subjected to his showcasing had explained to you that he’d called them in, forced them to watch the unveiling of Frankenstarks newest monster.

When you had asked why you hadn’t been called in, you’d missed the way Tony and the others tensed up. They knew that you wouldn’t understand a word Stark was speaking, as if the man were speaking some foreign language to you, but they didn’t want to explain that it was because you were ‘dense’.

The heaven-sent that is Scott stepped forward, a big, bright smile on his face as he entwined his fingers with your own as he came up with an excuse for the billionaire, saving Starks’ skin and sparing your feelings.

“He thought you’d find it boring. We all do to be honest honey but only so many of us are lucky enough to have an out,” was the sugar-coated explanation he conjured up on the spot.

You bought it easily, nodding in understanding with the sweetest of smiles before reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. The others visibly relaxed, though you were oblivious as you stared up at Scott with a love-sick expression.

You had then gone on to ask what exactly it was that Tony had been working on which had led to a longwinded explanation with wild gestures and a heap of words you certainly didn’t understand whatsoever. Truth be told, he’d lost you within the first sentence.

Tony heaved a sigh. “No, not like C-3P0. The design is completely different and the level of A.I. being used it higher than that of C-3P0,” he spoke exasperatedly, a mocking tone taking over his tone near the end.

Feeling even more confused that what you had originally felt, you tried once more to understand.

“So…like Vision?”

Sam snorted as majority of the others smirked or tried to supress their smiles, Vision unsurprisingly seemed stoic as ever. Tony, on the other hand, had a look of genuine surprise. Almost looking proud.

“Uh, yeah, actually. You worked that out a lot faster than I thought you would honestly,” Tony said as an off-handed comment causing the others to still and Scott to tense slightly beside you while your brows furrowed.

“What’d you mean?”

Scott once again interjected to save the day, dragging your attention to him instead. “None of us really got it, that’s all. I’m pretty sure Thor still doesn’t, honestly.” He whispered the last part as he pointed his thumb towards the towering, blonde Asgardian.

Although your heart fluttered at the thought of Scott trying to be so sweet and kind to you, you couldn’t help the hurt that spread through you. You knew how the others viewed you, how they thought you were stupid, how you don’t understand anything.

Rather than show it affected you, you forced a smile on to your face and a tiny giggle to pass your lips.

Glancing at the others before allowing your eyes to fall back on to your boyfriend, you kept the feigned smile on your lips as you spoke. “I just remembered I gotta load of stuff to do. I’ll see you guys later.”

Scott flashed you his pearly whites in a wide smile before pecking your forehead and giving you a quiet “Sure babe.”

Walking backwards, you called out loudly to the group before exiting the room. “Have fun with Vision 2.0.”

Usually, when the team unintentionally commented on you in such a way, it would never really affect in such a negative way but today, it was just a series of failure after failure, your day all-round being bad.

From the comment in the lab, to the accidental breaking of a trainee’s arm due to you forgetting the strength you held over others, to Steve and Bucky taking the last of the coffee in the pot of the coffee machine which you had no idea how to work.

You had even bumped into someone in the hallway, the file you had been carrying falling to the ground and the papers inside scattering across the floor in disarray, leaving you to try reorganising the lot, taking a whole hour and a half.

It’s unfortunate that the person to be at the end of your disgruntled mood would be someone who you strongly considered a friend.

The Avengers who were currently residing at the compound were all scattered within the main living area and the open kitchen when you walked in, looking dishevelled as you frantically searched for a package that you had been notified had been delivered.

Walking through, you looked to see if the damn thing was atop any table you passed. Hell, you even lifted one of the chairs slightly to see if someone was cruel enough to hide the thing under it.

Although everyone had opted to watch you curiously, it was your sweet Scott to break the silence.

“Hey honey, whatcha’ doing there?” he asked curiously.

You grumbled out your answer, honestly ready for the day to be over with. “I’m looking for my delivery.”

Sam snorted before pointing towards the island in the centre of the kitchen. “You mean that massive package right there?”

Low and behold, there sat your package on top of the cool, marble surface, just with an added feature. You scowled, storming over towards the thing. You turned your fiery gaze to Thor, who was overall minding his own business chowing down on the entire contents of a Pop Tart box.

“WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR HAMMER ON MY FUCKING DELIVERY?!” You roared out, everyone’s eyes widened in complete and utter shock, Thor even jumped at the sudden loud booming. As he opened and reclosed his mouth repeatedly in a pathetic attempt to say something, anything, you continued.

“There could’ve been something really important in there! Or-or super fragile or something! What if you broke it?!”

During your explosion at the poor Asgardian, you happened to grasp the handle of Mjölnir and lift it with ease, causing everyone’s eyes to widen further and even a few mouths to drop open, gaping at the sight in front of them, Tony choking on his drink that he had been taking a sip of. Although Scott was just as shocked as those around him, he more so looked like a small child who’s completely wonder-struck, a twinkle in his eye.

“Never, and I mean NEVER, put your hammer on my damn things again. GOT IT?!” You shoved the hammer into Thors’ chest harshly, causing him to fumble to get a hold of it.

Once certain he had a tight grasp on the thing, you released your hold and spun on the spot, now becoming witness to everyone’s flabbergasted expressions. “WHAT?” you asked in exasperation and confusion, today completely tiring you out mentally and emotionally.

A pregnant silence befell you all before Scott suddenly jumped out of his seat, face ecstatic, arms raised high into the air above his head, hands balled up into fists, a loud and excited shout escaping him.

“YES!”

“You-you’re worthy?” Thor asked quietly to no one in particular.

Your brows furrowed deeply, now entirely confused and ever so slightly self-conscious. “What?”

“You’re worthy babe! Hell yeah! Up top!” he had made his way over towards you, now one arm raised with his hand now relaxed, waiting on you to give him a high five.

“I’m not following…”

“Only Thor could lift the hammer ‘cause he was the only one who’s worthy or whatever. It’s like impossible for anyone else to lift it,” Clint started to explain before being cut off by Natasha.

“Until you, that is. You’re the only other one whose been able to lift it.”

“Oh,” was all you said before shrugging your shoulders and waddling your way past Scott and towards your package on the kitchen island, picking it up and beginning to walk away.

Before you left though, you thought this to be the perfect opportunity to finally boast about something that you had been able to do that the others couldn’t. “Well, I may be stupid but at least I don’t put my back out by trying to lift a little hammer.”

You smirked as you continued to walk away, your destination being your room, package what would be heavy to most in your arms. Scott laughed loudly, something you could hear as you continued to retreat to your bedroom.

Meanwhile…

“HELL YEAH! THAT’S MY GIRL! WOO!” Scott began to follow after you, still shouting out every single word he spoke. “HONEY! THAT WAS LIKE THE COOLEST THING EVER! DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES?! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Cass. SHE’S GONNA FREAK!”

The Avengers were still suck in their retrieves of shock, all unmoving, all trying to process the newfound information that you could lift the hammer.

Thor seemed to be taking it the worst, looking ever so slightly frightened, gulping loudly.

“I believe I have new matters to discuss with my father...”

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I love any Paul Rudd character just as much as him

I even have a t-shirt with his beautiful ass face on lmao

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual

[sesshousfur]

Yashahime-Is-Over Party!

thank you for this cute graphic, @voxvulpina 🥺

Hey guys, @kiwi--witch, @emberstreak and I came up with a fun idea for the weekend of HNY's final episode! We've all somewhat been through hell with the blatant, unashamed destruction this sequel has brought to a franchise we all grew up loving so much and I am so sure that many of you have had ideas on how things could have and should have been written. Well, to celebrate that it's now ✨finally fucking over✨, we're hosting an Inuyasha Fix It event, quite literally a yashahime-is-over-party.

There is only one prompt: Into Forever (What Should Have Happened)

It starts March 20th, 6PM Japan Time (aka when the final episode ends) and is open ended! (you know, like a proper party.) So there is no rush to post something right away.

The idea is really just for all of us to come together to share and exchange our own fix-it scenarios, no matter the ship (except you-know-who), no matter if it's just textposts, art, fanfics, edits, etc. Vent your frustrations, pick and choose your own headcanons, pretend Inuyasha ended in 2010, whatever you want! Make sure to tag it with #hnyisoverparty to join the fun ♡ The event is also gonna be happening on Twitter under the same hashtag.

We're looking forward to what you guys come up with! ♡

[fruitcoops]

so i just reread your fic where jules gets bullied at school and remus comforts him, because i'm pretty sure i go back and read that every week. would you ever write a sequel where jules gets some comeuppance? bc i don't believe in violence but i want to kick luke sanders

That's one of my favorites--I'm glad you liked it! There is no violence here, just some realizations from the mind of an eighth-grader with an attitude problem. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

First fic is here

Luke was having a shit day. He was pretty sure that he bombed his science quiz the day before and wasn’t looking forward to seeing the disappointment on his mom’s face when she saw the score, even though it was only worth 2% of his overall grade. Just try harder, she would say. I know you can do it. Just try.

And he did. He just sucked at science, and that was the way the world worked. Luke kicked a pebble and smiled as it pinged off the signpost. In his head, a goalhorn lit up red and his picture appeared on the jumbotron.

If I could play hockey all day, I would, he thought as he rounded the last corner to the school building. It was one of the only things that made him happy—he itched with the need to get out on the ice at every minute of the day. In the real world, where his pads were unstrapped and he wasn’t good at things, he was…bored. Really, really bored. There was nowhere to put the big feelings he got sometimes, and nothing to do.

His friends were already standing in a circle outside the side door, talking and laughing. They never seemed to need him much, anyway. Frustration flared in his chest and he kicked another pebble, harder this time—it smacked into the curb with a satisfying clatter and he felt a lovely bit of vindication. He didn’t need them to have fun.

Gasps broke out to his left and he craned his neck to see the source; as one of the taller kids in his class, he didn’t need to stretch very far. His heart skipped a beat. Joy soared, then came crashing down like a broken plane. Oh, shit.

Remus Lupin was at the other end of the parking lot, looking as normal as any parent dropping their kid off while he ruffled his little brother’s hair and ushered him away from the car. Remus Lupin, who was one of Luke’s absolute heroes; Remus Lupin, whose little brother he had been pushing around whenever he got bored or frustrated by life.

Shit, shit, shit. Jules’ eyes landed on him and narrowed. Luke forced a sneer, even as his pulse skyrocketed when the kid marched over with his hands balled into fists. He was scrawny, built a little like a scarecrow, but he had the same set to his mouth that his brother got just before beating the crap out of an opponent on the ice.

“What do you want, Loony?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Jules’ jaw ticked at the side. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re the one who came over here.”

“And don’t talk to me anymore.”

“Why not?”

A beat of silence passed before Jules drew himself up to his full height. His chin passed Luke’s chest by less than an inch. “My brother told me to be nice about this and report you, but if you fuck with me again, you’re gonna wish I just told the principal.”

Luke barely held down a smile. Hearing cuss words from an eleven-year-old who barely cleared five feet was more than a little funny. “Sure thing, shrimp. Hey, why don’t you—”

He faltered the second he glanced over Jules’ shoulder. Remus was still standing by their ancient car, glowering at the pair of them with those unsettlingly bright Lupin eyes. The sudden realization that this was Jules’ way of ‘being nice’ struck him like a runaway train; Luke was sharply and terribly aware that he would probably be on the ground with a busted nose if Remus hadn’t reined his little brother in.

Luke had never thought of the littlest Lupin as anything approaching ‘scary’ before. He was beginning to reconsider that particular judgement.

Jules was still waiting with one eyebrow raised when he looked back. “Forget it,” Luke scoffed, hiking his bag up higher to hide the slight tremor in his hand. “You’re wasting my time.”

“Don’t talk to me again.”

“Whatever,” he muttered as he headed back toward the schoolhouse. Adrian said something as he passed, or maybe Dylan—hell, it could’ve been Hunter for all he knew—but he didn’t register a word around the thud of his heartbeat in his ears.

Hobbies. He needed a hobby. Something to do that would take the place of bothering some skinny kid that could and would kick his ass given the chance. When he checked over his shoulder after the first bell rang, Jules was cheerfully chatting with his other geeky friends as if nothing had ever happened. Luke made a mental note to ask his mom about the art supplies she had stuffed in the attic the prior Christmas.

[eternalsimp]

Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Ugh...

Here we go again with this... Something something, "It's not my fault Disney is making these sequels! I avoided their latest original movies because they sucked! I shouldn't be to blame for that!"

A) These Disney Animation and Pixar sequels were likely always going to be made regardless of how the recent original movies performed financially. In the biz, if a movie makes a shit-ton of money, it's likely getting a sequel. It ain't 1997 anymore.

B) There is no blame or punishment, per se... The system in the world of mainstream American feature animation is working as intended. It's capitalism 101. It sucks, yes, but that's how it is. The performance of one movie dramatically affects the slate, or even the studio's survival. Must we dredge up what happened to Blue Sky after The Walt Disney Company bought them and their first movie released by them lost money at the box office? Better yet, all the times Disney Animation faced shutdown for many decades.

C) What if... Hear me out... These sequels are all pretty good? Better than the recent original stuff, even? Impossible! Something can be a critically-acclaimed audience favorite, and you'd still have gaggles of people online insisting the thing in question is garbage. Just look at TURNING RED, for example. It's all fuckin' subjective at the end of the day.

D) It's never gonna be good enough anyways, so why bother? I don't think I can name a *single* Disney animated movie where almost everyone was on the same page, praising it... Since THE LION KING? The latter-years Renaissance movies all had their detractors, as did the early 2000s movies, as did all the "Revival" movies (why don't they do 2D anymore? Because a lot of people avoided PRINCESS AND THE FROG and WINNIE THE POOH). I remember there were at least a few people who didn't like TANGLED, WRECK-IT RALPH, etc. etc. Were very vocal about that or didn't think they were "Disney enough" or whatever. Hell, even LION KING used to get flack for the KIMBA similarities. Plenty of the now-beloved films overseen by Walt Disney himself were largely greeted with mixed or negative reviews upon initial release. It'll never be perfect, it's just the nature of the beast. How the movies live on, is the more important part. Not the opinions of self-appointed "experts" on the Internet. Again, it's all personal preference.

The thing is, the movies Disney chooses to make is kind out of our control. No one should be obliged to pay for a product so that you get the next one like it ("vote with your wallet!"), but unfortunately, that's how the biz works. If you're not game on the latest films from the studio, you're also not to blame for what they do next, but they're gonna do what they're gonna do. That's just that about that. Hell, the thing can be a big success... And they'll still do the opposite of what people want! Off the top of my head, not an animated movie, but WORLD WAR Z 2 not moving forward despite how well the first one did. Again, it sucks. But... If WDAS ever got to a point where they were making things that I just did not want to see whatsoever? Then I'd go watch something else. It's ultimately the higher-ups' decisions that are at fault.

Very rarely are financial failures looked at logically, very rarely do executives ever try to pick up the pieces from there. Instead it's "never make this kind of thing again" or "shut this place down". It happened to Blue Sky. It happened at DreamWorks, projects cancelled (B.O.O., MONKEYS OF MUMBAI, etc.), staff laid off, a whole animation unit closed down (Pacific Data Images), etc. Disney Animation threw 2D features out twice, cancelled many movies, laid off tons of people multiple times, they faced complete shutdown multiple times. Animated movies are expensive and require lots of people and resources, they're fragile as is. COVID-19 really cut into their box office, and it doesn't help that going to the movies costs a fortune.

I'm not saying this is all a good, it's not. I've just made peace with it, and can only hope films keep getting made, staff still have work and roofs to keep over their heads, and maybe... Just maybe, I'll like the movies, too?

Anyways, I hope I like MOANA 2. I'm curious to see what the director and writers and artists and musical talents all bring to this world that was created by the first film.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Hi there!

I finally have an idea for the sequel to the angst! By the way, it really did help. Less strong emotions :D

Anyways, idea. Woot woot-

Wels, as a kind of revenge for the death of Hels, wants to save some other helsmits from the world that is Hels. Because it sucks there. He ends up secluding himself from the server to try this. When somebody goes to check on him, they find an obsidian portal frame with a firey red portal contained within. Queue Wels and another Helsmit conveniently coming through, and Wels having to quickly explain before the Hermit tells X-

this is a long boi!!! lol

first part here

...

This is it. This is the moment Wels has been waiting for. After weeks of hiding out in his house, doing experiment after experiment, he’s finally managed to create a portal directly to Helscraft. Now he can finally start on his mission.

He steps through the portal and finds himself facing a bridge across a gigantic ravine with lava at the bottom. On the other side is a mountain made of netherrack and magma blocks, some of which are on fire.

Shivering, he crosses the bridge slowly, one step at a time, keeping a wary eye out for any helsmits around. There doesn’t seem to be any.

Until he steps off the bridge, glances up, and happens to spot a familiar person sitting in a “tree” made of soul sand and bone blocks. Familiar except red eyes, red streaks in his hair, a much shorter stature, and black-and-magenta dragon-like wings.

“Hi,” he says cautiously.

“Helsknight…?” The person narrows their eyes. “Why do you look different?”

“I’m not Helsknight, I’m his hermit counterpart.”

The helsmit blinks in surprise. “Welsknight? What are you doing here in Helscraft?”

“Are you Grian’s helsmit?” asks Wels, avoiding the question.

“...surely you can tell,” the helsmit scoffs. “Yeah, I’m Xelqua, Grian’s helsmit. Why’re you here? Where’s Helsknight?”

Again, Wels tries to avoid the question. “Were you… close to Helsknight?”

“Not really.” Xelqua again narrows his eyes. “What do you mean by that? Where IS he?”

“He’s…” Wels hesitates and bows his head. “I’m really sorry, but he… he passed away.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath from Xelqua.

“I’m sorry,” he says uselessly.

“Why are you here?”

Wels looks back up at Xelqua. “What?”

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” demands Xelqua loudly. “What, is it not enough that we exist here in this HELLISH place?! You wanna come here and take it over too?! Drive us out AGAIN?!”

“I- No!” Wels hurriedly shakes his head. “No no no! I came here to invite you back to Hermitcraft.”

A flash of shock flickers over Xelqua’s face. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because Helsknight wanted all of you to be free. He sacrificed himself for me, so I’m carrying on his dream.” Wels offers his hand to the helsmit. “Xelqua, come with me to Hermitcraft. I can get you a better life there.”

“Wow.” Xelqua appears not to know how to react to this unexpected offer. “What do you get in return?”

“Nothing.”

Xelqua rolls his eyes. “SURE.”

“No, really,” Wels insists. “I want to help you, all of you. I’m not asking for anything in return. I just want you guys to have a better life.”

Xelqua regards Wels with a half-suspicious look. “Why me, of all the helsmits?”

“I want to save all of you at some point. You seem like a good place to start.”

The helsmit doesn’t appear to have a response to this.

“Please, Xelqua,” says Wels softly. “Give me a chance.”

Xelqua is silent for a while as he processes this in his head. Finally, he says, “Okay. I won’t turn down a chance to go to Hermitcraft.”

Wels can’t help an excited smile. “Great! You won’t regret it.”

When Xelqua hops down from the “tree”, Wels is surprised to discover that the helsmit is only just half his height. The height of a child, despite looking almost exactly like Grian.

“Okay, come this way,” he says.

He leads Xelqua back down the bridge and over to the portal. “Will you be able to come through?” he asks.

“I dunno, you’re the brainiac hermit,” Xelqua responds. “Will I die if I go through?”

“Not inherently, but…”

Xelqua shrugs. “Whatever. Death is better than another day in Helscraft anyway. YOLO.”

Wels blinks as Xelqua steps through the portal. Did he just say… YOLO?!

He hurriedly follows Xelqua. As soon as he steps foot in his house on the other side, however, he sees Xelqua frozen on the platform. When he steps forward, he sees why.

One of his friends is standing at the bottom of the staircase, staring at him in shock and horror.

Wels blinks, his heart starting to pound. “...J-Jevin. Hi. You’re in my house.”

“Of course I’m in your dang house, Wels!” snaps Jevin. “You haven’t been seen on the server for WEEKS! And now you come out of a demonic nether portal with a DEMON?!”

Wels quickly pushes Xelqua behind him. “He’s not a demon, Jev. His name is Xelqua. He’s Grian’s helsmit.”

Jevin’s eyes widen and he steps back.

Wels sees his friend’s muscles bunching. “Jev, no…!”

Jevin takes another step back.

“JEV.”

“Somehow a demon would have been BETTER!” yells Jevin, before taking off running.

Wels sprints after him. He’s a lot faster than Jevin so he’s able to tackle his friend to the ground at the top of the stairs.

“Jev, wait!” Wels grunts, trying to hold his squirming friend down. “Hear me out!”

“Are you INSANE?!” Jevin shrieks back. “WHY would you bring a helsmit here?!”

As Wels is about to respond, a dry voice comes from behind them. “Now I know why you said you wanted to avoid this guy, Wels.”

Wels twists his head upwards to find Xelqua standing over them, arms folded. “I didn’t say-.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” demands Jevin, disentangling himself from Wels.

The hint of a smirk is visible on Xelqua’s face. “He said you were pretty close-minded and quick to jump to conclusions.”

“I never said-!”

Wels is cut off as Jevin jumps to his feet and jabs his finger at Xelqua. “You shut your mouth. You’re not even supposed to be here!”

“I’m not the one judging someone I just met based on their nature of birth, Slime Face,” retorts Xelqua.

“If you call me that again, I’m gonna ram my fist in your eye,” Jevin growls.

Xelqua lifts his chin challengingly. “Go for it. I’m not afraid to fight an old man.”

As Jevin moves suddenly, Wels gets between them and holds his friend back. “Okay, STOP it! Both of you! Jev, be the bigger person here.”

“I AM the bigger person!” Jevin snaps back. “Literally!”

“Wow, a short joke,” Xelqua says expressionlessly. “Original. You proud of that one, Slime Face? You feel funny? Clever?”

Jevin’s hands curl into fists. “Wels, you better explain yourself before I punt this obnoxious kid straight into the goddamn sun.”

“Your stupid slimey foot would go right through me,” Xelqua responds immediately.

“Right, that’s it.”

Wels has to strain against Jevin to stop his friend from physically attacking Xelqua. “JEVIN. STOP.”

“Explain yourself, then!”

Wels quickly draws Jevin aside into the next room. “Look.” He takes a deep breath. “I spent months befriending my helsmit, learning about how he dreamt of freeing his siblings from their torturous existence, only for him to die before even being able to start on his dream. Helsmits aren’t inherently evil, Jev. Helsknight grew as a person right in front of me. With the right environment and people surrounding them, they can become good.”

He pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Even if I can only change one helsmit’s life for the better then maybe Helsknight’s death didn’t have to be meaningless.”

Jevin gazes back at him, an odd expression on his face.

“Just…” Wels sighs quietly. “Please don’t tell Xisuma until I’m ready. If he finds out about this before Xelqua makes any noticeable improvements, he’ll have him thrown back to Helscraft and all this will be for nothing. Helsknight’s dream can’t die like that. I can’t… I can’t lose him all over again.”

A short pause follows his words.

Finally, Jevin unfolds his arms and says, “Okay. How can I help?”

“By not treating me like a stupid kid,” comes Xelqua’s voice.

Jevin turns to find the helsmit poking his head through the doorway. “Wasn’t talking to you, Parrot Boy.”

“I’m not a parrot,” Xelqua says. “I’m a dragon.”

“Sure.”

Scowling, Xelqua extends his jet black and magenta wings. “My wings are dragon wings.”

“Whatever you say, Parrot Boy.”

Xelqua glares at him and doesn’t respond.

Jevin raises an eyebrow. “Nicknames hurt, huh?”

“Jev,” sighs Wels. “You’re the adult here.”

“Why AM I the adult here?” Jevin demands. “If he’s Grian’s helsmit, why is he still a kid?”

Xelqua stomps his foot. “I’m not a kid!”

Ignoring him, Wels replies, “Helsmits are only born once a person becomes a hermit. Grian’s only been a hermit for a few years, so Xelqua hasn’t had a chance to grow up yet.”

“Hey, I’m PERFECTLY grown up!” snaps Xelqua. “I already know how to kill things without spilling much blood and how to steal stuff from a chest from right under someone’s nose.”

Wels and Jevin exchange a slightly concerned look.

“But you never had a normal childhood?” asks Jevin.

“I’M NOT A CHILD!” yells Xelqua angrily.

Jevin persists: “Have you ever even seen grass?”

Xelqua scowls. “...what’s grass?”

“Okay…” Jevin pauses for a moment. “Come up this way.”

As he goes to the door, Wels starts to speak: “Jev-.”

“I’ll be careful,” says Jevin reassuringly. “Come on, kid.”

Clearly deciding not to argue anymore, Xelqua follows Jevin out of the house. As soon as he gets outside, he glances up and immediately jumps almost a foot in the air. “What is that?!”

Jevin quickly identifies where he’s looking. “The sun.”

“That’s not the sun,” scoffs Xelqua.

“It is.”

Xelqua shields his eyes from the sunlight and squints up at the sky. “But it’s not hurting my skin.”

“It will if you stay out in it too long.” Jevin pauses. “Why, what’s your sun like?”

“Volatile,” Xelqua responds. “If it’s in a bad mood, it’ll set you on fire as soon as you step out in it. Which is almost every day.”

Jevin blinks. “Your sun is sentient?”

“Trust me, that’s not the weirdest thing that’s sentient in Helscraft.”

“Do I wanna ask?”

“Nope.” Xelqua lowers his hand. “So what’s this grass thing you mentioned?”

Jevin gestures at the ground. “What you’re standing on.”

“Really? This is grass?” Xelqua hops up and down on it a few times. “I thought it’d be a bit more interesting.”

“Lie down on it.”

Xelqua shoots him a suspicious look. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

After a moment, Xelqua lies down flat on the grass. “Okay, now what?”

“Look up at the sky,” Jevin responds. “See those clouds?”

Xelqua frowns up at the sky. “The grey things?”

“Yeah. Do you have clouds?”

“Not like those. Ours are spikey and red and rain lava.”

“Oh jeez…” Jevin shivers. “Well, these ones won’t hurt you. Just watch them for a while.”

“Okay…”

The two fall silent. Jevin watches the clouds himself for a while, before turning back to Xelqua, whose expression is almost completely blank. “So?”

“Weirdly, this is nice,” admits Xelqua. “It’s a bizarre concept to not be afraid of every single thing around me.” As if on cue, a few raindrops start to fall from the sky. Xelqua hops up as the rain gets heavier and dives between Jevin’s feet, clutching Jevin’s leg tightly. “WHAT IS THIS?!” he shrieks.

“It’s just rain!” Jevin reassures him, gently stroking his wings. “Don’t worry, it’s just rain. Just water. It won’t hurt you.”

After a moment, Xelqua sticks out his hand and lets some raindrops fall on it. When it doesn’t hurt him, he carefully emerges from his shelter and hovers just above the ground, closing his eyes against the rain falling on his face. A smile appears on his face and he shoots upwards, his beating wings scattering raindrops everywhere.

Shielding his eyes from the rain, Jevin laughs as he watches Xelqua shoot up through the clouds and dive back down several times. It’s like watching a foal discover how to run for the first time.

“How’s it going out here?” asks Wels, emerging from the building. Immediately, he lifts his arms to shield his head from the rain. “Oh! It doesn’t rain often on this server.”

Jevin continues to gaze up at Xelqua far above him. “...Wels?”

“Yeah?”

“This kid really needs a better life.”

Wels nods. “He does. They all do. This is what Helsknight wanted: for the helsmits to have the same opportunities as us. The same expansive resource-rich world to explore, not the barren hellscape they’re forced to live in year after year. To be able to live and grow without worrying about being robbed or hurt or attacked or murdered by the world and people around them. They have so much potential that’s not being realised because they’re stuck in literal hell. I won’t rest until they’re all as free as Helsknight almost was.”

After a brief pause, he glances over at Jevin and finds his friend smiling at him. He chuckles. “What’s that look for?”

“I’ve never seen you this passionate before,” says Jevin softly. “It’s nice.”

“It IS nice,” Wels agrees. “I haven’t had a cause like this to fight for in a long time.”

Jevin pats his friend on the shoulder. “If you ever need help with Xelqua, lemme know.”

Wels glances at him in surprise. “You want to help with Xelqua?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Why?”

As Jevin starts to respond, Xelqua suddenly lands on the ground in front of them, soaking wet. “What are you two nattering about?” he demands. “Come fly up here with me!”

“We can’t fly when it’s raining this heavily, Xelqua,” responds Wels. “It’s too wet for our elytras to work properly.”

“Oh.” Xelqua rolls his eyes. “You guys are lame.”

Wels raises an eyebrow back. “Mhm.”

As Xelqua takes off again, Jevin says, “To answer your question Wels, I want to help because I can tell Xelqua has the potential to be a good kid. He’s got some problems I wanna help iron out.”

“Wow, I…” Wels smiles gratefully. “I’d love the help. Thank you.”

At that moment, Xelqua reappears through the rain and holds out a shovel to the two. “I stole this from a chest in that guy’s house over there,” he says proudly. “He didn’t see me.”

“That’d be Beef’s house,” Wels sighs.

As Wels reaches for the shovel, Xelqua sharply steps back, hugging the shovel protectively.

Wels shakes his head. “You don’t have to steal things here, Xelqua. We’ll help you get your own stuff.”

“Oh…” Xelqua reluctantly relinquishes his prize to Wels.

“Thank you,” says Wels gently. “Do you want your own shovel?”

After a moment, Xelqua nods.

Wels smiles, feeling strong paternal instincts towards the kid.

“Okay, let’s get you a shovel.”

[undermattsun-archive]

mouth

(skate rat) kunimi x reader | word count: 1.8k

a/n: i said i was writing a drabble, a simple short slice,, wtf happened?? anyway ty @bakatenshii​ for putting up w my spam about this <3

18+ university age | pls read all warnings

warnings: drug use (weed), bad words, bad (slightly toxic) behavior, toxic relationships, a bit of blood

now with its sequels taste + savor

Oikawa’s parties were never really your scene, considering the amount of greasy touch-starved skaters that were crawling around and all the bad decisions you’ve made with them in the past, you really should’ve tried your best to avoid any function thrown by him. But the promise of some mindless fun after a grueling week of finals made it worth swinging by, even for an hour or so.

You’re seated on the arm of the beat-up old couch near the front door, giving you the perfect seat to watch various people of differing sobriety fall in and out of the party.

Just as the desperate scene of Matsukawa coming on to the fourth girl of the night unfolds before you, there’s the familiar burn of eyes boring into you, acutely aware of who it might be. 

For a moment you wonder if standing your ground would be better, thwarted by your own body moving without a second thought and making a desperate attempt to avoid simple eye contact, you sacrifice your perch,  hoping to find someone that you didn’t have a complicated history with.

“Trying to run?” Cool fingers wrap around your wrist, forcing a groan to escape your lips. It was a mystery how someone who was high most of the time and never wanted to expend any energy could move that quickly across a room.

“Running implies I’m scared, avoiding would be the better term,” you try to pull away from his grip, only to have him tighten his hold forcing you to turn and glare into his hooded eyes, “what do you want?”

“A hello maybe, not nice to ignore me.” He relents his hold and you roll your eyes, he looks deceptively good tonight. You can’t help but take in his appearance, grimacing when you notice he’s wearing the oversized black Champion hoodie you’d given him for his birthday, when you were still on semi-decent terms.

“Yeah about that, I only say hi to people who don’t fuck me over.” You try to move away from him but he quickly crowds into your space, focusing a calculating look on you.

“Fuck you over how?” His expression shifts, he’s giving you that look, the one he gives whenever he has you pinned against a surface and taking everything he wants from you. 

The look he gives before you can’t help but surrender completely to him.

“Forget it, just leave me alone.” You try to look around him, trying to find a familiar face, someone you could cling onto to avoid this uncomfortable confrontation and your inevitable downfall right into his hands.

You shove at his chest and slip by him, deciding that leaving completely would be the best option, only to have hands grip at your waist and pull you back harshly. You land on the couch with a soft thump about to send another scathing comment his way when you notice him reaching behind the couch, pulling out a clear glass bong with a skull engraved on it.

The sight of it fills you with another wave of irritation and nostalgia, another present from you to him, another instance of you practically on your knees begging for his attention. You know this is your real cue to leave, that the second you start smoking with him you’ll truly be putty in his hands.

“Just one or two hits,” he hums, already sensing your hesitation, he pulls out a half empty plastic water bottle and a dime bag, “I'm sure you stressed yourself out this week.”

“Mm how considerate of you.” You shift slightly in your seat, positioning yourself better in case you decide to really escape this time.

“You look good.” It’s nonchalant and almost half-hearted but it still causes a slight tingle to run down your spine. You hate the way his feigned disinterest always has you wanting more, all the times he’s looked at you with rapt attention only to coat it with impassivity a moment later making you crave more and more of him. The imagery fills your head and makes your mouth dry. You push the thoughts away, you’re here to smoke some of his weed, and then leave nothing more.

“Don’t,” he looks up from his ministrations to raise a brow at you, “‘m not playing your games tonight.”

“Fine, you look like shit.'' He hands you the bong and you consider smashing it, but it’d only be a waste of your money and good weed.

“Lighter.” You touch the mouthpiece to your bottom lip and stare at him expectantly. He shakes his head and twirls the lighter in his fingers.

“Payment.” A smug look crosses his features and the temptation to throw the bong itches at your hands again.

“I hate you.” It’s under your breath and both of you know that despite how irritated you are with him, you don’t mean it in the slightest, you never do. You hook your finger onto the collar of his hoodie and tug him forward, slamming your lips together in a chaste kiss, the moment his lips part against yours has you pulling away.  

“Hm? That was too short and sweet for you,” you snort at the comment and try to take the lighter from him, he shakes his head and turns the bong so the bowl is facing him, “you’re just gonna fuck it up and hurt yourself let me.”

“Whatever.” You fix your lips properly, holding eye contact with him as he lights the bowl, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke crawl down your throat and invade your lungs. He grins at you as he pulls the bowl from it, letting you clear it out.

You hold the smoke for a moment, and just as you’re about to blow it out, Kunimi snatches the bong from you and sets it down by the couch, surging forward and capturing your lips. His hand flies up and squeezes at your cheeks as he licks into your mouth, forcing your jaw to drop. His other arm curls around your waist, not bothering to put up a fight as he maneuvers you onto his lap.

Your hands press against him and you finally exhale slowly into his mouth, feeling his chest swell slowly beneath your palms. There’s a pause in his movements, leaving you to think he’ll pull away, only for him to continue his greedy exploration with his villainous tongue. 

Though you’d never say it out loud, you’ve always been impressed by his lungs but the lack of oxygen begins to make your chest tighten and your head feel a little too light.

“Fuck wait.” You gasp, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. His hand drops from your face and slips under the hem of your shirt letting his fingers dance across the small of your back.

“For what?” He nips at your bottom lip, trying to get you to retaliate but you narrow your eyes at him.

“Apologize first.” You drive your index finger into his chest and he scoffs.

“I don't do that,” he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your neck, making you yelp out, you hiss as he pulls off and licks at the raw skin, “take me or leave me.”

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You tangle your fingers in his hair and yank harshly, pulling him into a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything. You feel his fingers continue to massage your back while his other hand runs up and down your thigh.

If you aren’t going to get an apology, you figure there’s other ways to get a bit of retribution. You dig your teeth into his bottom lip, grinning against him when you feel the taste of iron spread across your tongue. his hand on your thigh squeezes tightly making you gasp, only allowing him to delve his tongue further into your mouth, acting as though he has a right to it. 

“Bong.” He rasps as he pulls away from you, you take a moment to admire the crimson staining his lips. Reaching down you swipe up the bong, handing it to him and scooting back to avoid being burnt. Watching quietly as he fixes it against his mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag.

It was disgusting really, he always looked  good like this, the only thing rivaling this expression was that faintly proud look he got in his eyes whenever he landed a trick. He pulls the bong away and holds it to the side, looking up at you and tilting his head. 

“What?” You frown as you watch his eyes flicker to your mouth, his message loud and clear. with a sigh you inch forward, letting your lips part, you jump slightly when he surges forward to slot his mouth against yours. You inhale slowly as he exhales, reveling in the taste of the weed and his tongue moving across yours.

“You two sure know how to make it seem like you’re the only ones in the room,” you pull away once more, the two of you turning to look at Iwaizumi settling on the couch beside you, “just wanted to warn you that Mattsun is threatening to come join you two.”

“Tch like hell he is.” Kunimi pulls you closer against his body, only making you groan at the sudden wave of possessiveness.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” You really have no interest in letting Mattsun’s slimy fingers and dirty dick anywhere near you, but skipping out on the opportunity to piss Kunimi off, even just a little, would be a waste. you raise a brow as his head falls back against the couch, reddening eyes observing you lazily.

“You want me to be or something?” You ignore the snicker that falls from Iwaizumi beside you two and narrow your eyes at the man underneath you.

“So you can fuck off and forget i exist for another month again? Yeah right.” The flash of anger fades quickly when you start to feel the headiness that comes with your high swirl through you. 

“I'll make it up to you,” the statement punctuated with both of his hands sliding further up your shirt, “mouth.”

“Kunimi.”

“Mouth.” you swipe your tongue over your lips before relenting, letting your jaw drop and your tongue loll out a bit. He swipes his tongue against yours before sucking it into his mouth. He lets out a low groan as you grind down against him and throw your arms around his neck desperately trying to deepen the kiss.

“Don’t fuck down here again, Oikawa’s room should still be open, he keeps striking out anyway.” You kick your leg blindly, satisfied when you feel your foot make contact and hearing Iwaizumi letting out a curse. 

“Oikawa’s?” Kunimi mutters against your lip, and you hum in agreement, sliding off his lap and pulling him along with you. 

“I better not be able to walk tomorrow or I’m never talking to you again.”

[captainimprobable]

Alright I caved.  Here’s chapter one of the still unnamed sequel to No Apologies, my Lumity coffeeshop AU. It’s been seven months since I finished the fic so I hope yall are still down for the ride! The chaos starts now :) ~

“This might be a bad time to tell you this, but roosters….kinda freak me out.”

“Amity, we are literally swimming in roosters right now.”

Amity hugged herself, shaking but still managing to roll her eyes.  “We are metaphorically swimming in roosters.”

Luz snorted.  “Whatever, Miss Accurate.”

They both looked at the rooster pen in front of them.  A cow mooed in the distance, and they took a moment of silence to question the life choices that had led up to this moment.

It didn’t take very long.  The pipeline went like this: Amity had decided to work part time at a coffee shop to piss off her parents, and two years later she was on a six month anniversary trip with a chaotic ball of energy, tripping on bird feathers at a barn many miles away from home.  Simple.

“It...it was just supposed to be an air bnb,” Luz said helplessly.

“Luz, what did the ad say?”

Luz scrambled to take her phone out of her pocket, mindlessly swatting away the pig trying to eat it out of her hand.

“Uh…’stunning country views and a realistic farming experience.’” She stomped her foot.  “That is so misleading!!!”

“I genuinely think I’m about to pass out.” Amity said, swaying slightly.

“Babe, don’t say that.  The roosters can smell your fear.”

Amity glared at her girlfriend.  “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically.  “Fine, what’s next on the list they left us?”

Luz pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper covered in lines of print detailing exactly what they had to do in order to stay at the barn.  It was politely decorated with a post it note that read “Good luck, suckers!” 

“Inspect the roosters,” she read.  “Check for obvious genetic defects.  Separate these roosters from the rest.”

Amity held up a hand to stop her.  “No. Nope. I am not inspecting roosters.  I am not separating roosters.  I am going back inside, and I am going to read a book, and I am going to pretend there are no demon chickens out here ready to peck my eyes out.”

Amity gingerly tiptoed around the roosters, taking care not to touch any of them.  One brave animal attempted to peck at her skirt, but she let out an unholy shriek that scattered them all.  Luz watched Amity flee the scene, sighing.  She picked up the list Amity had dropped and scanned the next few lines.  “The roosters with these defects will be…” she trailed off. “Oh,” she said, realization dawning.  “Oh no.”

Amity must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, it was dark and Luz was shaking her awake.

“Amity, wake up, we have an emergency.” Amity was up in an instant.  “What’s wrong? Are you okay???” “Yeah, I’m fine!” Luz assured her. “It’s just uh…..” Luz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “We have a...situation?”

Amity yawned and stretched, rubbing her eyes as she stood up.  Immediately, Luz grabbed her hand and began dragging her outside.  “Ugh, what time is it?” Amity asked, stumbling along behind Luz.   

“Uhhh about one am I think? I had to wait until now to do this.  It’s better under the cover of darkness.”  

Immediately, Amity felt a sense of extreme trepidation.  Whatever was waiting for her outside was definitely not something she wanted to see.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she was met with the sound of roosters clucking. When they reached the driveway, she stopped dead.  “Luz,” Amity said slowly, blinking repeatedly to make sure she was seeing things correctly.  “Why are there a dozen roosters in your car?”

“There’s actually fourteen,” Luz said, but faltered when Amity glared at her.  “Okay, so the thing is, well….the farmers wanted us to separate the roosters because these are the ones with defects.  And these are the ones they’re gonna sell for meat.”

“Oh god,” Amity groaned.  “Don’t tell me-”

Luz’s grin looked almost evil in the moonlight.  “We’re gonna save the roosters.”

“Luz, where the hell are you planning on bringing them??? Most roosters live in captivity!”

“So I looked it up, and it said that roosters thrive in forest climates, and the nearest forest is only two hours away!!!!”

Amity wanted to say she was surprised, but she knew Luz well enough at this point to know to expect this from her.  She reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.  “Luz,” she said gently. “I love how big your heart is, and I love that you want to save these animals.  But roosters are supposed to live on farms.  Also, you had chicken salad for lunch.”

Luz looked at her with puppy eyes.  Fuck.  Amity couldn’t resist that.

She sighed.  “Fine,” she said.  “We can save the roosters.  But you know the farmers are gonna make us pay for them.”

“Ahhhh thank you!” Luz squealed, throwing her arms around Amity’s neck.  She kissed her cheek.  “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Amity grumbled.  “Now get in the car before I change my mind.”

~

It was going fine until they reached the gas station.  The roosters were in the back, probably shitting all over Luz’s car, and Amity was in the passenger seat, gripping the door handle and trying not to freak out.  

“Shit,” Luz said over the radio about a half hour into their ride, summing up Amity’s thoughts nicely.  “We need gas.”

“I’ll get it,” Amity volunteered quickly.  Anything to get out of the car, anything to get away from the ominous clucking emerging from the backseat.  She opened her door.  And that’s when all hell broke loose.  

Fourteen roosters, smelling freedom and gas station muffins, burst from the back seat into the front, climbing over Amity and streaming out of the passenger side door.  Amity shrieked and fell out of the car, scraping her arm on the concrete as roosters used her back as a jumping off point into the night.

Amity hissed as she used her arms to get up, her scraped elbow burning.  Luz ran around the side of the car to help stop the roosters, but it was too late.  They both watched helplessly as the birds flapped their wings and hopped away.

It was two thirty in the morning, and they had released roosters into the town.  

They were both silent as they ruminated on what had just happened.  The birds clucked in the distance, joining the cicadas in their unholy screaming.  

“We need to go,” Luz said at last, far more calmly than the panicked look in her eye suggested.  She helped Amity up, careful not to touch her injured arm and, without another word, they both got into the car and sped away.

~

Since they were fugitives now, they could no longer sleep at the barn.  Forgetting the fact that the barn’s owners had their information and would no doubt charge them for the roosters anyway, they quickly picked up their things, got back into the car, and bolted.  They drove for a couple of hours, trying in vain to ignore the strong smell of bird shit emanating from the backseat.  The streetlights illuminated the scene: feathers in the backseat, feathers in Amity’s hair, blood gently staining the paper towel Amity was holding to her elbow.   

After awhile they passed a sign for a Bed and Breakfast and Luz, having determined they’d gotten far enough away from the scene of the crime, turned the car in that direction.  They were quite a sight as they straggled into the quaint house, but the elderly owners asked no questions as to why they had shown up at four in the morning covered in feathers, so Luz and Amity gratefully stumbled up the stairs, finally collapsing in their new room.  Despite the summer heat, Amity was shivering, so Luz hurried to light the fireplace.

Once she’d tended to the fire, Luz sat down on the floor next to Amity.  “Show me,” she said, gesturing to Amity’s injured arm.  Amity wordlessly offered up her elbow, which Luz inspected.  “You don’t need stitches,” she said gratefully, pulling out a Naruto bandaid.

“How could you possibly know that?” Amity asked quietly.  Luz shrugged.  “I was really clumsy as a kid.”  

Amity raised an eyebrow.  “Okay, fine, I’m still clumsy,” Luz admitted.  

Their silences were usually comfortable, but this one most definitely was not.

“I’m really sorry,” Luz finally whispered, gingerly covering Amity’s wound with a picture of Sasuke Uchiha. “I didn’t mean to ruin our anniversary trip.”

They hadn’t spoken much since The Incident.  Amity had stared stonily out the car window while Luz drove and occasionally attempted to covertly glance at her girlfriend.  Hours had passed without Luz saying a word, a feat which Luz was secretly quite proud of.

“I really thought we’d manage to have a normal, nice time,” she continued, “but I ruined it, and now there’s a town being terrorized by roosters and it’s all my fault.”

Amity didn’t say anything for a few moments and then, unexpectedly, she started to laugh.  

“Um,” Luz said.  “Amity? Did you hit your head, too????”

“No, no,” Amity said between giggles.  “It’s just- it’s so us. Who else would this happen to?????? We released fourteen roosters onto an unsuspecting town in the middle of the night, and your car is covered in shit.  I really should’ve expected something like this.” “So...you’re not mad?”

“I was,” Amity admitted.  “In the car, I was kind of pissed.  I mean, you did wake me up in the middle of the night, which, as you know, is never a good idea, and we did have to flee our romantic trip like criminals.  But then I started thinking, and, I don’t know.”  She smiled almost shyly at Luz. 

“I knew what I was getting into when I told you I loved you,” she said simply.  “And I’m happy being with you, even if I did have to face one of my worst fears.”

“Oh my god,” Luz said, lower lip trembling.  “You’re gonna make me cry.” 

“Don’t go all soft on me now,” Amity said, rolling her eyes with a smile.  

Luz launched herself at Amity, and they fell over, rolling across the carpet a few times before finally landing next to each other on the floor.  Luz touched her forehead to Amity’s.  “I’ll always be soft when it comes to you,” she said.

“Gay,” Amity whispered back, but leaned forward and captured Luz’s mouth with hers.  

After the day they’d had, neither of them had the energy to get up, so they ended up sleeping on the floor that night, cuddled up on a blanket next to the fire.

“Happy anniversary,” Luz mumbled sleepily into Amity’s neck right before she drifted off to sleep.

“Happy anniversary,” Amity answered.

Despite it all, they both fell asleep with smiles on their faces.