#the only time he remembers hes supposed to have a thing for sue is whenever they writers wanna make jokes or drama

[aliesbienish]

A study of wolves

Paul Lahote x Reader

Part two (part one here)

“It’s lovely to meet you all, and thank you for being so welcoming.”

Paul’s mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. Here you were, the supposed perfect woman for him. And he never had wanted this. He had deemed imprinting as an anchor. Another knock to his freedom. Yet even the idea of walking away seemed to make him physically sick.

Paul caught Sam’s questioning gaze and gave a quick shake of his head. He may not be able to walk away but her certainly wasn’t ready to bare his soul to this virtual stranger, however her smile made him feel.

“So [y/n], what’s first for the study,” Emily questioned, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“The wolf population in the area isn’t well documented, so first thing will be exploring the area and trying to find signs of their territory. From there I can set up motion activated cameras to try to work population and observe behaviours,”

“Oh, we weren’t aware of cameras, how exactly do the work?” Sam almost sounded a little nervous.

“I’ll set them up facing areas that look like frequented wolf paths. They’ll then capture photos and videos whenever they detect significant motion, including during the evening. Obviously they’ll be a lot of other animals or even false shots due to the wind but hopefully we’ll see some gray wolves.”

“Will you let us know where they’ll be set up so we don’t disturb them?”

“Don’t stress too much, they’ll likely be far away from the village so I doubt you’ll come into contact with them. But I can definitely let you know the coordinates, and I’m sure one of you guys will be with me when I set them up otherwise I’ll never find my way back.”

“Coordinates would be great. You mentioned starting heading out of Monday, is that still the case?” Emily questioned.

“Absolutely. Sam agreed to be my guide for the day so all going well no rescue team will be needed,”

“Actually [y/n] I completely forgot that I have other work to do Monday, but Paul here has agreed to be your guide. Isn’t that right Paul?”

You looked up to the man beside you and caught him shaking his head at Sam. Noticing you caught him it was quickly changed to a nod paired with a guilty smile.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Monday came around quickly. Your first two days were spent unpacking your relatively few belongings and exploring the small reservation town. You’d need to head into the nearby town of Forks soon to stock on groceries as the shop on the reservation only held the basics. But for the mean time sandwiches and toast would at least keep you going.

This morning you were woken by your alarm just before sunrise. The air was fresh and getting out of bed was a mental battle, but you couldn’t help feel excited. Today was officially the first day of your adult life. What you had been working on throughout college, even throughout school.

Your backpack was packed full with equipment and layers of clothes. Enough fore mentioned sandwiches for both yourself and Paul were also stuffed in. Maps were also tucked in just in case your phone, and the two battery packs you were also bringing, didn’t hold out. Turns out you had an inner Girl Scout after all.

Your phone ticked over to 7:30am just as there was a rap on the cabin door. Opening it revealed Paul. The man was impressively pulling off the cargo pants and green polo combo; the official but sparingly used uniform of the Quilliete Tribe. Blinking back into focus, the smirk on Paul’s face was a clear indicator that you had been caught.

“Morning,” he laughed. “Here” he thrusted a coffee into your hand. You almost hugged him in appreciation, before remembering the man is practically a stranger. The cabin had been only equipped with the basics, no kettle or coffee machine in sight, another necessity to find in Forks or even further afield.

“My hero! Where did you even get this?” You sighed appreciatively.

“Sue’s cafe. One and only on the Res. It’s hidden behind the school and not on maps so I’m not surprised you haven’t found it yet,”

“Damn, can’t believe I missed it on my walk yesterday, went right passed the school and everything. I thought I was a blood hound when it comes to coffee, how disappointing”

“Calm down Lassie, im sure you were just having an off day. Ready to get this show on the road?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Paul’s truck was a comfortable ride as you headed out of town. You debated taking your car but after it’s cross country marathon you’d declared that it needed a little rest. That and you’d wanted to get used to the gravel roads before you chauffeured around attractive men on them. Plus then you wouldn’t a) get the pleasure of teasing Paul on his lack of manners when you paid for petrol on your work card later and b) see how his muscles flex every time he shifted gear. If the wolves fell through you’d happily spend six months studying the path of his tendons across his biceps.

Your first site wasn’t too far from La Push. An area of cliffs along the ocean was the last known sighting of a gray wolf in the area so it seemed like a good place to start your survey. You didn’t expect to cover too much ground, especially as you got the hang of it. Instead you wanted to be meticulous, examine the ground for wolf tracks, excrement and remains of prey.

You were going over the mental list of what to be on the look out for when the car pulled to a halt.

“Alright boss lady we’re here. You ready for this?”

“Absolutely.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Next chapter

Am I getting a little caught up in the idea of doing an ecological study like this…absolutely. So I had no real intention going in about making a long multi chapter story but that feels like where this is head. Is that something people are interested in, or do you prefer short and sweet??

[wombywoo]

14, 18, 20, 21 for Quinn and Vincent

thanks for asking <33

14. Who was your OC's first love? How do they remember that person now?

For Quinn, it's probably his best mate Danny. They met early on in Quinn's service, Danny being transferred to whatever unit he was in at the time (idk how the military works yet, sue me). Prior to that, he'd had 'flings' with guys before (usually older men :/) so he didn't really have much concept of romance, or even friendship. But meeting Danny seemed to strike both for him. They hit it off right away because they're both from Sheffield, and sort of just developed a natural camaraderie. So yeah...Quinn grew closer to him as a friend and kind of...interpreted that as 'love', or whatever he assumed the feeling was supposed to be. After pining for a while, the two finally addressed Quinn's feelings after he regretfully attempted to kiss him. It hurt to know that Danny didn't feel the same, but he still cares about him deeply, and they've been able to remain best friends since. Danny's got a serious girlfriend now, plus he's discharged, so Quinn feels like this might be their time to naturally drift apart. There's still an effort to remain...something though...

For Vincent, he developed a crush on his piano teacher, Evelyn, as a young boy. She was a few years older, a teenager hired to give him rudimentary lessons, but Vincent was smitten from the start, which probably helped bolster his talent for piano. It was an innocent boyhood crush at the time; Vincent was prepubescent and impressionable, and Evelyn was a beautiful young black woman, something he cherished because he didn't often see others who looked like him or his mother. After he went away to school, he did miss her often. He kind of developed this fantasy about her, and led himself to believe that this was the type of woman he might marry someday. As he grew older and returned home eventually, he did try to seek her out a few times. They had a flirtatious sort of rapport for a while, but eventually, Evelyn became engaged to a musician, and they just... drifted apart. Vincent still recalls her fondly, and anytime he sits down at a piano, he remembers her strict lessons

18. If your OC were to return to their childhood home now, what would that look like? How would they feel?

Quinn still frequents his childhood home, whenever his dad can actually convince him to stop by. It's...strange for him. The house is practically the same; same layout, same furniture, same pictures on the wall. A lot of things changed for them as a family, and for Quinn personally, so it feels...wrong that the house would remain untouched. But he tries to suppress that weird sense of misshapen nostalgia whenever he visits, if only to pretend to his father that it doesn't make his skin crawl to be there.

I think I mentioned previously that Vincent's old home is probably some overpriced airbnb now. I've contemplated a little scene of him taking Quinn there eventually, under the pretense of the two of them getting away for the weekend. Quinn would probably remark about how posh and over the top the place is, oblivious to the fact that Vincent is taking in every single detail--the chip in the banister where he used to slide down as a boy, the window fixtures with new glass, wood floors restained, the original wallpaper still in the upstairs guest bathroom. It's...painful in a way, but he aims to replace the distortion of his memory with something more...romantic. Quinn likes the fireplace in the bedroom. They both like the big four-poster bed. Vincent tells Quinn later there's a lewd drawing under one of the floorboards and they both spend thirty minutes trying to see if it's still there.

20. What were the most idyllic years of your OC's childhood? Does your OC miss those days?

I think being a young child is always going to be someone's idyllic years. For Quinn especially, that felt like the only time he was carefree. Everything prior to being ten has been classified in his mind as the 'good times', a sort of 'before' period before things rapidly went downhill. So yeah..he does miss those days. But they feel like they happened to a different man, a different boy

Vincent tries not to romanticize the past (difficult for a man who's been through so many transformative eras) He does recall the days of his youth as some of his best, those rare times when his mother and father appeared happy together. Similarly to Quinn, he often feels like he's recalling someone else's childhood

21. If your OC could speak to their childhood self, what would they say?

Ooof, kind of tough. Quinn wouldn't really have much to say to his childhood self, more of a warning; just a general 'look at me, do I look like an ok adult?' self-deprecating realization. I think he'd stick with something cautionary, like 'grow up and don't look back'.

For Vincent, it'd be more of an inspirational type of quote, maybe a joke or two. Something to get the kid-version of himself to crack a cheeky smile to remind him that--yeah, he's still happy. He still has that bright place in his chest even despite its current lack of heartbeat :'D

[markerofthemidnight]

Thinking of writing a Rain Code Peggy Sue/Swap AU. As in, at the end of the final Labyrinth, something happens that resets the timeline to the beginning of Chapter 0 as well as swaps everyone’s roles, and Yuma and Shinigami are the only ones who remember the original timeline.

A few fun ideas for this:

Shinigami

“Human” name is Shini Requiem (as borrowed from another trainee detective that’s never mentioned in the true story, so the real Yuma never appears here)

The other detectives just assume the reason why she’s… like that is because the supposed amnesia just made her weird

Still doesn’t stop her from being fairly competent at times, though, so they don’t really complain (if only they knew 60% of her competence is just advice given to her by a reluctant death god…)

REALLY having a bad time figuring out how to do human things like eating, and sleeping, and breathing

As a result has absolutely no internal clock, either staying awake when she wants to fall asleep or falling asleep when she needs to stay awake

She also has to do things like breathe and blink manually until her subconscious figures out it has to do those things itself, which takes about like a day

She’s an absolute MASTER in Mystery Labyrinths, though, for understandable reasons

(which is even more impressive given the fact that personality swapping means that the mysteries are fairly different now, and even if they weren’t, it’s not like she can remember all the details of all the cases)

Is still brooding over the fact that her tits mysteriously disappeared when she became a human: combine that with the height difference, and she basically looks like an overly sassy little girl

(“NOW I’M THE FLAT-CHESTED UGGO! WHYYYYYYY?!”)

Has no problem walking but can’t really run since she’s used to just floating

Actually isn’t as mean to other people as she is in the main game

(which is absolutely NOT because her usual personality is just a defense mechanism since anyone in their right mind would be terrified of a goddess of death, and even her masters would probably despise her because no god should be that incompetent: so if they’re going to hate her, it should at least be because of something she can control, right?)

Yuma

Ghost form just looks like Shinigami’s but slimmer, blue, and with curved horns

Human form is a fancier version of his typical outfit except a foot or so taller with a crown, the aforementioned horns, and two demonic wings that he still hasn’t figured out how to retract into his body like Shinigami does for hers

As a result, whenever he transforms, the sequence consists of him flailing about trying to balance himself with the gigantic flapping monstrosities now on his back as his clothing just magically materialises onto him

“Arise, Mystery LabyriiiIIIIIIIIINNNTH-“

His confidence pretty much took a terminal nosedive as soon as the last Labyrinth made it finally start to get better

Is especially not doing very well coping with the mental changes that come with being a death god, which starts out as just being attracted to the scent of blood, but gets… worse, over time.

”Shini, you have to hurry! If you don’t, Zange will boom-kill… I did not just say that.”

(note: still called her Shinigami at first but transitioned over to Shini rather quickly. He is still Iiving in denial of the fact that it may subconsciously be a pet name)

His version of Shinigami’s scythe is his blade, and naturally its new counterpart is the Solution Scythe

(summoning animation now consists of them doing a short little waltz before Shinigami rips off one of his wings, which turns into the scythe, and a new wing grows back painlessly)

Really doesn’t want to stab Shinigami in the back all the time even though it’s necessary to proceed in the Labyrinths: between this, Crime Scene Recreation, GOD Shinigami, and all the other situations that require him to be forceful in any sense, he makes a terrible guide

[storieschats]

Fourt Wing Reactions Book 2 Update 6

Note: Check out the previous reactions here.Comment, reblog and talk to me about books whenever you want to!

Where I am: Page 614 of 719. Violet has just made the garrisons work but apparently something is missing. Xaden reads minds. Next chapters we'll talk to General Melgren.

What I think so far: I didn't like the book very much in general, but now this last part is becoming more interesting.

Positive points:

I'm enjoying learning more about magic and I liked the introduction of the rune thing! I like everything magical!

I like that we get to talk to Melgren, he and his giant dragon seem like super interesting characters. Imagine having the biggest dragon in the kingdom and the ability to see the future?! I mean, I'd read a book about him.

The action is starting to ramp up a bit more, which thank the gods, because this book is a bit fast-paced but at the same time very mini quests that don't really affect the plot that much!

I like the fact that we're redeeming Cat. Evil ex-girlfriend is such a lazy trope and honestly kinda sexist... just saying.

Dain is growing on me and I'm getting a bit on his side I think. I mean it wasn't really his fault. His dad asked him to see a memory of Violet and tell him which ok is horrible and intrusive and all that but then saying it was his fault that his dad tried (and in Liam's case succeeded) to kill them, I mean not really his fault.

Negative points:

Xaden reads minds... Okay, I thought it was a bit out of the blue, but okay, moving on

Xaden and Violet's relationship didn't convince me that much in this book. Maybe because they didn't spend much time together during the book??

Violet is beginning to be too special for me. She's the best rider, she's the best scriber even though she's not a scriber, she's the smartest, she's the most powerful, two ultra special dragons chose her, she's the best at runes, she's the best at magic, she's fast... like I get it, eye roll, is bordering on Mary Sue for me honestly.

Stars:⭐⭐(maybe 2.5)

Predictions: I have a feeling something is going to happen to her mum, I hope her mum finds out Brannon is alive. I feel sorry for her!

After friendly pushback about forgiving Dain: Nah, Dain's okay with me, he said he said goodbye to her because he finally realised that she was choosing Xaden over him and that their friendship was going to end and the book implies that this is the truth.

As for his father, meh, I think it was a bit like Xaden blaming himself for telling Violet, Violet blaming herself for trusting Dain and him reading her the memoirs, and Dain blaming himself for reading the memoirs and telling his father.

Basically, the only thing that separates Dain's guilt from Violet's guilt (they both check up on someone they shouldn't have) is that Dain has the extra step of reading someone's memories without prompting, which is horrible and quite intrusive. But neither of them knew what it meant. Like this chain from tell this to tell that was just the word "Abernathy" (it's not actually that word but I can’t remember the correct one... but it starts with A and has a y). Aetos dad was the only one in this chain who knew that this word meant that the marked ones were probably betraying the country because it was a border town and they didn't have authorisation to be there. Violet and Dain had little idea what secret they were guarding.

That's why I think he's to blame for reading memories without authorisation, but not for Liam's death (and that of the other girl).

After friendly pushback about Violet being a Mary Sue: Yes, Cat is the best at runes in the whole class, but Violet is the best at runes from Navarre.

Yes, it's true, she does have some major weaknesses like... She has to ask for help for some, and I emphasise some, of the multiple dead languages she can read.

It's just that even her supposed physical weakness kind of disappears in this book, like it's still mentioned sometimes that she needs to strap up her joints but she doesn't seem to have any other problems. She's beaten I don't know how many opponents without having to poison them.

Now in the first book, but even more so in the second, Violet doesn't need anyone, except from an emotional point of view. If everyone disappears, she can still do 90% of the story. She discovers everything, she has the most power. None of the others discover anything essential and the few times they're needed (like Aaric to open the files with royal blood or Jesinia to translate) they're always crutches because the whole plan was devised by Violet and they were called in by her and you get the feeling that if it wasn't for them it would be anyone else. I don't like it very much and once again it's an easy fix, just make her a bad scribe or a bad rider.

[imperiuswrecked]

Ok but Nate Moore is so valid for saying that Atlantis is vague in the comics, like yeah it is, I’ve spent years bitching about how we STILL don’t have 1 main background/history/lore for Atlantis, and how we’ve had to pick up bits and pieces for any kind of history or even cultural aspects that wasn’t all coding, and just general ocean stuff, like I know everyone hates to talk about the Teen Namor series but honestly it showed more of the common people of Atlantis trading/fishing/LIVING their lives. We’ve had like 4 or 5 different “This is how the Great Cataclysm happened or this is how the Atlanteans evolved in the ocean” story lines that all differ from one another.

[tokusaatsus]

WHY THEY DON’T CONFESS TO YOU

ft. HiMERU, sena izumi, tenshouin eichi

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: spoilers for himeru’s backstory, mentions of hospitals in eichi’s

Because it would be a lie

HiMERU would tell you they love you, except that’s not quite true. HiMERU doesn’t love you. HiMERU doesn’t even know you. As far as HiMERU is concerned, they’ve never met, interacted with, or spoken to the person known as L/N Y/N.

L/N Y/N and HiMERU do not exist in the same circles. There is only the tiniest bit of overlap, caused by Crazy:B and CosPro. And yet, that tiny space allowed the two of you to meet. It’s the butterfly effect. Spiralling and spiralling and spiralling.

However, ⬛⬛⬛⬛ does love you. But ⬛⬛⬛⬛ can’t tell you that they love you, because they do not exist. Not anymore. Maybe once, a long time ago, but now? ⬛⬛⬛⬛ is not a real person. The only person who could ever claim to know ⬛⬛⬛⬛ is now lying in a hospital bed, trapped in that liminal space between waking and unconsciousness. You might even say that ⬛⬛⬛⬛ never really existed in the first place, because if no one is awake enough to remember you, then are you truly living?

Are you in a perpetual state of limbo? Schrödinger’s idol, perhaps, where you both exist and don’t.

It’s a paradox, ⬛⬛⬛⬛ thinks. They love you, but they can’t tell you. HiMERU doesn’t love you, but HiMERU can tell you.

It would be cruel, ⬛⬛⬛⬛ reflects, to tell you HiMERU loves you when it is a lie.

You have always treated them with a sort of softness, a direct contrast to how you treat Amagi. The two of you are always bickering, bickering, bickering. Shiina once likened it to pigtail pulling–what children do on the playground when they are unable to express their true feelings–and HiMERU supposes that wouldn’t be an entirely wrong way of looking at it.

HiMERU isn’t blind. They see the way you look at them sometimes, during practice. Stealing glances, then looking away the minute your eyes meet. But that’s just it, isn’t it? You love HiMERU. Not ⬛⬛⬛⬛. Never ⬛⬛⬛⬛, because you don’t know ⬛⬛⬛⬛ so how could you love ​​⬛⬛⬛⬛? That’s the thing, see. You couldn’t.

So HiMERU won’t lie to you. ⬛⬛⬛⬛ will continue to love you as they always have and they will do so quietly–then you will move on and one day find someone who can truly, truly reciprocate your feelings and you will forget. Forget about HiMERU and ⬛⬛⬛⬛ and the blue-haired idol who made your heart skip a beat once upon a time.

He’s scared of being abandoned

Izumi won’t say he loves you.

That might be too broad of a term. Sure, he’s fond of you. Your personality doesn’t grate on him like so many others do, and you don’t try to get close to him out of some misguided attempt at pity. It helps that while you’re sweet on him, you don’t take any of his bullshit.

He knows what your favourite colour is, and why you always cry at this one specific commercial, and why you hate that one flavour and go out of your way to avoid it–and in return, you know what his favourite songs are, and why he hates painting his own nails, and why he likes stupid rom-coms.

And he can admit, he does like you more than most people. He’s listened to you moon over other boys and girls with a dreamy expression on your face, and forcing down that instinctual urge to give a scathing remark is getting a lot harder when he sees how you carelessly give your heart away to people who don’t deserve it right now and who probably never will.

(Yes, he’s aware he might be feeling a tad bit…jealous. Sue him.)

He can tell the others–well, mostly Naru-kun–may be picking up on his, ugh, feelings because she always gives him knowing glances whenever she sees him chatting with you in the hallways.

Y/N-chan is rather good-looking, no? Well, yes, it’s not like he hasn’t noticed? But whatever Naru-kun is hoping will happen is never going to, so she might as well stop getting her hopes up. You never even look at him. You’re always dreaming, head in the clouds. One day, you might go somewhere far beyond his reach, and then what?

Izumi is tired of being left behind.

He’s tired of waiting, waiting, always waiting for someone to come back. He’s tired of waiting for proof that he’s truly wanted. He’s been tired for a long while now, actually, but he’s never known how to do anything except wait and wait and wait and hope that they will return to him one day and they will tell him what he did wrong so he can prevent it from happening again.

It happened with…him. He’s not going to let it happen to you, too.

Besides, what you have right now is perfectly fine. So what if his glances linger sometimes and his touches last a little too long? It’s not like you’ll ever notice, anyways.

He thinks he’s going to die

Eichi knows he’s living on borrowed time. He’s known it for a long time. He might even have been born with this knowledge and isn’t that sad? Knowing that you are going to die just as you take your first breath.

There are so many things he hasn’t done yet. He hasn’t gone on a rollercoaster. He hasn’t eaten so much candy until he’s sick of it. He hasn’t had a scary movie marathon, he hasn’t stayed up until past midnight chatting with a friend on the other side of the world, he hasn’t sampled foods from around the globe.

He hasn’t told you he loves you.

There’s something that sets apart that last one from the rest of the items, though. On TENSHOUIN EICHI’S 100 THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE list, it would be at the very top in bold black ink, pressed in his looping script. TELL Y/N I LOVE YOU. Taunting him, because it still hasn’t been fulfilled and likely never will.

Oh, he knows he could tell you. You might even reciprocate. The chances of that are quite high. After all, he knows you. But he won’t.

And that’s the problem.

If he told you, it would be sweet, almost cloyingly so. He can already picture the confession. He would take you out to your favourite café, he would pay for your food, and then you would walk hand-in-hand under the sakura trees and the petals would shower over you two and Eichi would take your hands in his and he would say: Y/N, I love you. We are already partners, in every sense of the term except the romantic one. But we could be. What do you say?

You would say yes and then kiss him afterwards, under the veil of pink, with your fingers buried in his hair and his arms wrapped around your waist. And then you two would date and it would be your happily ever after.

That’s all well and good, until Eichi’s heart stops working the way it should and he’s rushed to a hospital with its cold, impersonal rooms and sterile steel instruments and beeping heart monitor and you would sit at his bedside and weep and weep and weep with his fingers clutched in yours as the ticking clock of his lifeline slowly faded into static: beeeeeeeep.

How could he do that to you?

Here’s your answer: he can’t.

notes!

WC: 1.2k words

reze txt hi. i ghostwrote this in 2 hours. no beta we die like men (lies a lil beta thanks grammarly i owe u one fr) i just like seeing y’all cry. enjoy <33

[heliads]

Speeding Up

Two people: Pietro Maximoff, with the ability to go faster than time, and you, with the power to slow it down. One person: Wanda Maximoff, doing her best to push the two of you together.

masterlist

You love missions with the Avengers. You’ve never felt the same pure rush of adrenaline anywhere else as when you’re fighting for your life. All the same, for some reason during this battle in particular you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something you ought to be doing, someone you ought to be finding. It’s a little distracting, but you can’t pay it any mind. What matters most now is surviving and winning the fight. 

After things cool down again, you realize you know the source of your intrusive thoughts. It’s not a what but a who, and that who is currently walking towards you: Wanda Maximoff. You raise an eyebrow when she finally catches up to you. 

“I thought the mind reading policy was that you weren’t supposed to distract us during missions.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. Anyways, it was for an important reason. You’re supposed to be meeting my brother, remember?”

Oh, right. Her brother, Pietro Maximoff. 

You do your best to casually look around for an escape opportunity, but it’s too late- the white-haired speedster has already appeared out of nowhere at your side. He glances between you and Wanda, then flashes you a grin. 

“You must be Y/N. I hear Wanda’s been dying for us to meet.” 

You can’t help a quiet laugh at that. “I’ve heard the same thing.” 

Wanda makes a face at you, but she can’t stay mad for long. “If we’re good friends, then you’ll be good friends. Sue me for wanting you to be happy.”

Pietro laughs in earnest now. “Oh come on, Wanda, don’t be upset. We’re only teasing, right?” 

He cuts you a quick glance under raised brows, and his lips curl victoriously when you nod in agreement. “See, we’re doing great already. What’s your power again? Just so I can keep things straight.” 

Pietro changes the subject almost as quickly as he runs. You open your mouth to respond, but Wanda interrupts you hastily. 

“Actually, I think it’s best if we have a demonstration, you know what I mean?” She says the last part with a wink directed your way, and you smile along with her. 

Pietro seems suspicious, but seems fine when you ask him to run a few yards as fast as he can. Either he trusts you or he’s either to show off; both work for you. 

The second you see Pietro start to run, you hold up your hands and concentrate. Instantly, time seems to slow down around Pietro- no matter how hard he tries, he’s moving at a snail’s pace. You easily walk and catch up to him, pulling a small knife from his belt. You hold it up triumphantly when you let Pietro return to normal time. 

He’s at your side in an instant, grinning ear to ear. “That was fantastic. I was actually slow.” He shudders for dramatic effect. “Is that what it’s like to be you guys? I don’t know how you stand it.” 

Wanda swats him on the shoulder, but they’re both laughing. 

“See? Told you she was cool.” Wanda says. 

When Pietro looks back at you, you’re almost startled by the intensity of his gaze. “You were right.” 

For some reason, it almost makes you shiver. Wanda looks at you as if she knows what you’re thinking, but that can’t be right, because you’re not sure that you know what you’re feeling at all.

And, to be honest, this doesn’t go away after a while. You end up seeing Pietro Maximoff a lot more as the days go on, especially after you receive higher clearance to go on more Avengers missions. This means plenty of time to hang with him and Wanda in the jet after different fights, or sometimes just Pietro. You’ve grown accustomed to running through battles with Pietro because he never has to worry about speaking too fast; you can just speed up time for yourself and keep up.

This starts a habit of finding Pietro in dark corners of the jet, of pretending you get annoyed whenever he slings your legs into his lap, and listening to the thrum of the engines underneath his every word. Sometimes, the two of you talk until your voice is hoarse, and sometimes, Pietro’s sentences dry up mid phrase and he just sits there looking at you until he remembers himself and keeps going, usually with a wink or stupid joke to deflect the fact that he’d been feeling anything at all.

Wanda teases you about it sometimes, how much time you spend with Pietro, but you find you don’t really mind it. After all, the two of you are actually really good partners. With his speed and your ability to control time, you’re one of the only people who can actually keep up with him. The Avengers get more and more used to assigning the two of you to work together, and you’ve never minded it once.

In fact, you welcome it, even though you know you shouldn’t. Here is the problem of leaning too far into Pietro’s stolen glances and witty jokes told around open drinks: you’re not entirely sure that any of it is real. You’ve seen him smile the same way around Nat and the other female S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who have the luck or misfortune to cross his path, so you know it’s not just because of you.

All the same, you kind of wish it was. That’s why you find yourself standing at the edge of one of Stark’s parties later that month, pretending you can’t see Pietro leaning closer and closer to a woman in a red dress across the room. 

After a little while, Wanda comes up to you. She doesn’t even bother with the pleasantries, just goes straight into what’s on your mind. “So, I see that you and Pietro are getting along well?” 

You laugh a little, somehow not surprised, and raise your glass as if to agree with her. “You could say that. I feel like I work with him on some mission at least once a week.”

Wanda smirks. “I’m not talking about that kind of getting along.” 

You give her a suspicious look. “What other kind could there be?” 

Wanda folds her arms across her chest. “Do I have to spell it out for you? I see the way you look at each other, practically everyone does. Someone’s going to have to confess at some point, you know.”

You do your best not to choke on the drink you’ve just raised to your lips. “A little abrupt, Wanda?” 

Your friend just shakes her head. “Not at all, I think. Besides, you’re changing the subject.” 

You stare mournfully at your drink. “Maybe I want to. It’s not like admitting anything would do me any good. This little feelings thing isn’t going to go anywhere.”

Wanda frowns. “Why do you think that?” 

You gesture uselessly with your hands. “You know your brother, he’s like that with everyone. No matter how many times he tells me I look pretty, he’s said the exact same compliment to a dozen other people. What’s the point of letting myself fall for someone if I know it isn’t going anywhere?”

Wanda sighs, stepping closer to make sure no one can overhear your conversation. “Who said it wasn’t going anywhere?” 

You sigh, feeling your throat threaten to close up on you. “I’m not an idiot, Wanda. If he’s got anyone he wants, why go for me? Because I have special powers? Wait a week and a new intern comes in with something cooler than that. If I thought he meant anything when it came to me, I wouldn’t be doing my best to pretend I don’t see him talking to that other girl over there.”

Wanda glances over at her brother and shakes her head slightly when she realizes what you mean. “All the same, I do think there’s something. If neither of you can see it, well, I hope you do at some point.” 

Before you can ask her what she means by that, Wanda slips away to go talk to Vision, who’s just freed himself from a conversation with Bruce Banner. You stare at the room around you, contemplating which of your coworkers would be the least bad to talk to at a time like this, then give up and slip quietly from the room.

Like it or not, Wanda’s gotten to you. You can’t shake the image of Pietro smiling at the other girl from your mind, or escape the feeling that you should be doing something about it. At the end of the day, though, you’re just you, and Pietro’s just playing around to see what happens. You both want different things, and no amount of wishing will change that.

You drift into an empty room near the end of the hall, and stand before a wall made entirely of windows. Your eyes trace over the city far below you, the relentless night and the lights beginning to prick out against it. It’s beautiful, but it all feels so far away.

A voice from the doorway behind you makes you jump. “Everything alright? I saw you leave.” 

You turn around to see Pietro leaning against the door. You’re not sure when he left, but you could have sworn that he was still deeply engrossed in that girl from before. He seems like he’s deliberating over the threshold, so you extend a hand to him and he walks inside.

Pietro joins you by the window. “You know, every now and then I still can’t believe that the whole city is real. I spent enough time watching Sokovia destroy itself that sometimes the thought that New York could exist, undamaged, doesn’t even make sense.” 

A half smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Not for lack of trying. I swear some new villain tries to destroy half the city every month.”

Pietro laughs quietly. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing it’s got you to watch over everything. It certainly brings me some peace of mind.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Because I’m on missions all the time?” 

Pietro tilts his head to the side, considering this. “Because you never let something go if you think it’s wrong. I’ve never seen you turn down a chance to do good, even when you’re exhausted. That’s worth something.”

You glance over at him. At some point in the last few minutes, Pietro turned away from the window to look fully at you. The lights of the window below you reflect in his eyes, painting a thousand pictures of the city he never seems to belong to. His fingers tap at his sides, the only sign that he’s still moving too fast for anyone other than you to understand.

Pietro glances down at his hands, as if he can read your mind like his sister, and grins abashedly. “Bad habit. I can’t stay still when it feels like everything’s moving so slowly.” 

You smile. “You don’t have to be the only one.” 

Your eyes flicker shut for a second as you focus, then you speed up time around yourself so that you’re living on the same frequency as Pietro. When you open your eyes, the cars below you seem to be moving a thousand times faster. It’s almost dizzying, but Pietro’s grinning at you so you can’t seem to think about much else.

“It’s fun, isn’t it? Being faster than anyone.” 

You laugh at that. “Exhausting, maybe. How do you keep up with it all?” 

Pietro smirks. “You get used to it after a while. Stick around with me, maybe I can teach you a few tricks about it.” 

You shake your head slightly, smiling. “Bold of you to assume I’d be going anywhere without you.” 

Pietro’s smile grows at that, and he reaches over to take your hand. “Bold of you to assume I’d let you go.”

There’s a certain truth in that sentence that makes your heart stutter, like it’s the truest thing he’s ever said to you. And, when you look up at him, you’re fairly sure that it is. Not many people know the real Pietro, the one outside of the fast movements and the snarky comebacks. This, though? This is him. This is the boy HYDRA couldn’t change away, the one who grew up to fall in love with girls who sped up time to make him feel normal again. And, when he leans forward and kisses you, slowly because he doesn’t have to feel like he’s rushing anymore, you know it to be a fact.

marvel tag list: missing pietro maximoff hours @rogueanschel​,  @mycosmicparadise​, @ellobruv-blog​, @caswinchester2000​

[outsideratheart]

When in New York (Kelley O’ Hara x reader)

Part 2

You had just finished post game media following your game against New York Liberty. You weren’t a huge fan of doing media but it made it easier considering Seattle had won. 

You leave the conference room with Stewie who you had been doing the interview with.

“You seeing your family tonight” You shake your head.

“What about you?” She nods hers.

She bumps her shoulder into yours “Two New Yorkers beat New York in New York. Sounds like something to celebrate to me” She says and maybe she had a point.

You both walk into the locker room, some players have already left and some were still packing up.

“Y/N? Megan texted saying that her and a couple other teammates are at your parents restaurant and asked if we wanted to meet up with them” Sue asks.

Very few people knew about the family restaurant, you wanted to keep it a secret so that it could stay authentic. Your family was Italian and the restaurant was like a little piece of Italy in New York. The only people that knew where your Storm teammates and Megan, the honorary team mom.

You look at sue and she is giving you the look. After signing for the team she had taken you under her wing meaning that the two of you had got quite close.

“Ok, ok. No need to give me that look” You says.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes you leave the area, luckily for you the restaurant is only a few blocks away so you and Sue opted to walk saying that I would be your cool down / recovery.

“You said teammates” you says putting air-quotes around the word teammates “who’s there?” You ask.

“Alex and Kelley” she says which instantly bring a smile to your face.

“I thought that would cheer you up”

“Shut up”

You had a crush on Kelley, both Sue and Megan knew it. You met her last year when to US were playing in Seattle and Megan had invited you to a game. There was something about the defender that you really liked. You wasn’t if it was the fact that on the pitch she is a beast and off she is teddy but always had fun when you were with her.

You both enter the restaurant being greeted by your mom as soon as you come through the door.

“Mrs L/N nice to see you again” Sue says.

“Sue I have told you before, you can call me Maria” You mom says as she hugs you and sue makes her way to your friends.

“buon gioco dolce ragazza” (good game sweet girl) she tells you.

“grazie mamma” you reply kissing her cheek.

Meanwhile sue heads towards to table of soccer players.

She waves at everyone getting a mixture of hi’s and hello’s 

“Hi babe” She says kissing her girlfriend on the cheek. 

“Hi” Megan replies. “Where Y/N?” She asks noticing that you wasn’t behind sue.

“She’s in here somewhere” Sue says. She knew that you would probably been saying hi to your dad in the kitchen but she couldn’t tell them that.

“See Kel, you have a few more moments to get your crush in check” Alex jokes with her friend.

“Shut up!” Kelley replies.

“Hi guys” you say as to approach the table.

You notice Kelley staring at you so you take the opportunity to tease her.

“Like what you see?” You say making the defender blush.

“Have you ordered food yet?” You ask.

“No we were waiting for you. We know we are having though” Alex tells you as she hands you a menu.

“Thanks but I don’t need it” You say handing the menu to Sue who shakes her head letting you know she doesn’t need it either.

“You already know what you’re having?” Kelley asks.

“Not exactly” Sue says which confuses the others.

Looking around the restaurant you catch the attention of one of the waiters.

You let him know you are ready to order. 

Each of the women tell him what they want and then it is your’s and sue’s turn.

You look at sue and she nods her head.

“dì a gianni che avremo quello che consiglia” (tell gianni we will have what he recommends) Sue says 

“Certo” The waiter says.

You look at Sue and smile in approval.

“You getting very good, maybe time for a trip” You say.

“You speak Italian?” Kelley asks Sue.

“Y/N does and she has been teaching me for the past couple of years”

“Who is Gianni?” Alex asks.

“He is the chef here” You explain.

You start talking about the storm game when you mom bring across a bottle of limoncello hand you the bottle and 5 shot glasses.

“Grazie” You say

You pour everyone a glass and hand them out. 

“You get table service here?” Kelley asks.

“No, I asked for it when I came in” You reply.

You raise you class and everyone copies.

“Here to us. We change the game and provide hope for the next generation of female athletes” You say and everyone takes a sip except Kelley who shots it.

“You sip it Kel. If not you’ll be on the floor an hour” Megan says.

“You would know” you tease causing you and the forward to laugh.

“I will pour you another but this here” you say pointing to the bottle “is the real stuff, not something you find in a liquor store. It comes straight from a vineyard in Italy where this restaurant makes it’s wine” 

“You know a lot about this restaurant, the chef’s name and now where it makes it’d alcohol” Alex questions.

“What can I say, I have been coming here since I was a baby” you explain.

“that’s one way to put it” sue says under her breath, no quiet enough though as you send her a glare.

You look at Kelley as she takes a sip.

“Tastes better doesn’t it” She nods her head.

Your food arrives and you all say how nice it looks and smells. 

“Oh.my.god” Kelley says between mouthfuls.

“I agree, this is incredible. Megan how did you find this place? Alex asks.

“Y/N” Megan replies and Alex nods remembering that you said you came here when I was younger.

Conversation is small and simple as you all focus on your food.

You thank the waiter telling him the the food was delicious as he clears the table.

“Y/N can I ask you a question” Kelley asks.

“Only if I can ask you one?” 

“Why Italian and are you fluent” She asks

“I’m Italian so I had to learn in order to talk to family in Sicily”

“Prove it. Tell me something in Italian?” 

“quando ci siamo conosciuti pensavo fossi la persona più bella del mondo”

“Sounds very romantic” Alex says.

“What does it mean?” Kelley asks.

“it means ‘when we met I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world’” You tell her making sure to look her in the eyes when you say it.

Kelley is at a loss for words, what is she suppose to say to that. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable” You say slowly regretting what you said, not that you didn’t mean because you did.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks” you says excusing yourself from the table.

“Kelley” Alex says trying to get her friends attention.

“Does she say that kind of thing to everyone?” Kelley asks sue.

She shakes her head “She isn’t that type of person Kelley”

“You should tell her how you feel” Megan suggests.

Kelley shakes her head “what if she doesn’t feel the same way”

“You honestly think that after hearing what she just said” Alex says not believing her friends blindness.

You walk back to the table with two bottles of red wine.

“Dessert wine anyone?” You say trying to avoid the awkwardness. “trust me, this will be the best you tasted”

“It’s what they make in Italy right?” Alex says, you nod pouring her a glass.

Out of all the woman at the table to knew that Alex was the one that drank wine. You wait eagerly to see If she likes it. 

“Nice right”

Alex nods her head.

You all sip on your wine talking about everything and anything, for a moment you forget that you are all major athletes and it just feels like a group of friends catching up.

Once you are done Alex gets the attention of the waiter for the bill but he tells them that it has been settled.

She looks around the table confused but notices that Megan and Sue and looking directly at you.

“Y/N” 

“What? We don’t do this very often. Let me treat my friends”

“Thank you” Alex and Kelley say at the same time.

You are just about to leave when your mom comes to the table.

“Did you all enjoy your meal?” She asks. 

“It was incredible, I cannot wait to come back” Kelley says.

“I agree, I will definitely come back whenever we are in New York” Alex says.

“I’ll see you two soon ok” she says putting an arm around Sue and Megan. She had met them numerous times when she came to Seattle but her comment stumped the other two.

“Of course, next time your in Seattle you have to show me how to make your lasagne, I always eat the ones you make Y/N” Megan looks at you when you realises what she said.

It looks like your secret was about to get two new keepers.

“Alex, Kelley” your mom says now directed her attention to the other two soccer players “Any friends of my daughters are always welcome here”

“Wait, your daughter?” Kelley says looking at you confused.

“Meet my mom Maria” you say.

“This makes more sense. It is why you know so much about this restaurant” Alex says.

You nod your head.

You all make sure your way our of the restaurant. You had learned that Megan, Alex and Kelley were all staying in the same hotel as you and sue so you walked back together. Sue, Megan and Alex walk ahead leaving you and Kelley alone.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable earlier, it’s just that whenever I am near you I feel this connection and thought maybe you felt it too. I wouldn’t have said what I said if I didn't” you say

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, you caught me of guard. Nobody has every said something like that to me, definitely not in Italian” Kelley explains.

“I find that hard to believe, I mean look at you, you are beautiful” You say.

Kelley blushes again which you find adorable “ You were right before. I feel the connection too but I never did anything about it because we live so far away from each other”

“Can’t we just let ourself be happy even it it’s only a short period of time. We focus so much on the bigger picture that we don’t see what is right in front of us” You tell her.

“What do you have in mind?” She asks and you smile, you had wanted to do this for a quite a while.

“When do you leave New York?”

“Not until the day after tomorrow” 

“Perfect! Have breakfast with me?”

“I would love to” she replies.

Kelley stops walking “for the record, I find you very beautiful too”

You smile holding you hand out and she takes it.

You walk back to the hotel hand in hand, not talking just making the most of each others company whilst you can.

[miraculouscontent]

Anonymous asked:

My confusion at Plagg being so defensive of Adrien is just? This kid manipulates him all the time? And he's aware of it? Syren was an episode that happened but ig we can't remember that when we need to have rich white boy angst

Anonymous asked:

While we're talking about Plagg, I always found it so weird that back in Syren Plagg literally get's blackmailed by Adrien and 5 seconds later he goes "you're the best black cat ever" like ??? "How much of a Mary Sue do you want Adrien to be?" Astruc: " Y E S"

Adrien: *literally threatens Plagg that he’ll quit while an akuma has Paris underwater*

Plagg in “Kuro Neko”: You're the perfect son who's extremely successful in everything he does!

B R U H

Anonymous asked:

thinking about it plagg –has– gotten away with much, aside from all the destruction he's done "accidentally" for a being that existed since the beginning, nevermind that all of them act like kids when they actually have to be responsible, take for example the bracelet incident that he went ooh shiny and got stuck, or never actually doing his supposed duty to guide his holder, encouraging him even, berating Marinette, the guardian, for things he has no idea about in his cheese filled head

I guess the kwami are only irresponsible kids whenever it’s to trouble Marinette, but once she can be blamed for something the gloves (that she probably knitted for them tbh) are off and whoever can blame her the most hovers forward to criticize her for the absolute most nonsensical things.

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Hot Chocolate and Chill

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Word Count: 1644

This is pure fluff you guys! Thank you so much to the person who requested this, I need more fluff in my life and this is working toward that!

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

Y/n was certain he had never been more excited before. He couldn't stop himself from literally bouncing up and down as he made his way out of his last class of the day and toward his locker.

His friends just rolled their eyes and got out of the way. Y/n thought about feeling bad or trying to calm down, but then he would remember all over again that it was tonight.

He had been counting down all week to the time that he would be able to spend uninterrupted time with his boyfriend.

Peter had invited him for a sleepover after classes Friday, which, when he had suggested it on Monday had seemed like an eternity away.

But it was Friday and he had just been released from his last class. Nothing was going to stop him from being alone with Peter, and Y/n couldn't be happier.

He slammed the things he wouldn't need that weekend into his locker, slung his bag over one shoulder and took off in search of Peter, totally blanking on the need to close and lock his locker.

In the back of his mind he registered the long suffering sighs of his friends, but he was on a mission. There was no time to calm down, he had a boyfriend to track down.

It didn't take long, as he was still standing by his own locker talking to Ned. Y/n didn't stop to think, he just bounced over and launched himself at Peter.

Peter stumbled back a step as Y/n collided with him, but managed to keep them both standing. Y/n silently thanked the spider that had bitten Peter for the results as he none too subtly appreciated the muscles holding him up.

"Hi Y/n," came the resigned sigh from Peter's friend Ned.

"Yes, Tis I, The Amazing Y/n, come to light up your lives."

Okay, so he was feeling a little extra right now, sue him.

"You may now revel."

Peter and Ned lost it, which was the end of holding Y/n up. He pouted from his new spot beside Peter and waited for the two to stop laughing at him.

His pout gave way to the dopey grin that usually crept up on his face whenever he was looking at Peter for longer than a second. There was just something about his adorable dork of a boyfriend that made Y/n feel like he was floating.

Y/n subtly snuck his hand into Peter's while he waited for the other two to say their goodbyes. Luckily Peter was used to Y/n's actions and didn't startle even when he decided to hang over his shoulder.

"That's so gay!"

'Ugh, this guy,' thought Y/n as he turned to face Flash.

"You know, that isn't even an insult. We are in fact gay. Or I am at any rate, Pete's pan, right?"

Peter just nodded from beside Y/n.

Flash looked nonplussed.

"What? So you admit it, you really are gay? Ew!"

"You sure are stupid for someone who's supposed to be smart. That's like me saying, 'Oh, my God! You're such a person!'"

Y/n even affected an over the top pose to add to his effect.

"Ew, you're a person! That's so gross!"

Flash just looked confused at this point, which to be fair, that was a common response to people who weren't used to being near Y/n's particular brand of crazy, but still.

Y/n was going to go ahead and call that one a win. He and Peter turned away and ignored the bully.

Peter just looked at Y/n in shock as he heard Flash sputtering and stomping off behind them.

"That was amazing! I have to remember that for next time!"

Y/n grinned at his boyfriend, eternally grateful to which ever deity it was that had paired him up with someone who wasn't put off by his over the top personality like others had been.

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

May was watching from her place by the table in their kitchenette, bemused as Peter straightened one of the pillows on the couch for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He had been quietly freaking out for the better part of an hour now, and that was only the time he had been out in the main living areas. She was sure he had been freaking out in his room for much longer.

"I'm pretty sure he won't hold it against you if the pillow isn't in the exact right spot when he gets here."

May immediately regretted speaking when Peter's head shot up and he stared at her with the widest eyes possible. Oh, this was more than just normal anxiety. This was much more important than normal to him.

May unfolded herself and made her way over to her nephew.

"It's going to go just fine, you two are so happy together, I can't imagine anything causing a single night together to go wrong."

She held Peter close to her for as long as he would allow. He was growing up more and more every day, and didn't let her comfort him near as much as he used to, so she was going to savor this for as long as possible.

May felt Peter melt into the hug and was glad that at least she could still provide a little support, even if she couldn't fight every dragon for him anymore.

The door bell rang, startling them out of their hug, and Peter managed to trip over twice in his rush to get to the door as fast as possible.

May just shook her head at the thought of ever being so young and clearly in love.

She took her place by the table again after greeting Y/n. She had a cup of tea and a book calling her name.

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

Y/n looked around the living area of Peter's apartment, why he didn't know. It wasn't like it was his first time there after all, he had visited lots of times before. This time felt different for some reason though.

"Did you want something to drink?"

'Poor Peter,' Y/n thought, 'He looks just as nervous as I felt earlier.'

"I brought snacks and the makings for hot chocolate for our movie marathon. I can set up here while you sort out the drinks? Or are we watching in your room?"

Y/n handed over the bag that had the drink things in it and was pointed to the couch.

"Thank goodness you didn't have to patrol tonight. Are you sure it's okay to take the whole night off?"

"Yeah, I got someone to cover for me."

Y/n nodded and set about organising the snacks.

It didn't take them long to get settled with the assortment of snacks on the coffee table in front of them, their drinks close by and a movie playing on the TV.

It was a little awkward with neither of them wanting to step over any boundaries, especially with Peter's aunt sitting up at the table, but some time during the first movie they managed to relax enough to lean against each other.

By the time that the second movie was half finished Y/n was laying with his head on Peter's lap, no longer paying any attention to the movie because Peter was giving him the most amazing head massage and running his hands through Y/n's hair.

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

May made her way into the lounge area on her way out for her shift, but stopped at the sight that met her.

Peter and Y/n were curled up together on the couch fast asleep. She melted and tried not to coo too hard as she fished out her phone.

This called for proof, whether to blackmail or embarrass was still up for grabs.

As she closed the door and locked it from the outside, May was once again thankful that Peter wasn't the type to take advantage of being alone with someone he liked, so she didn't have to worry about them getting up to things they might not be ready for.

-----------

Bonus Scene

-----------

Mrs Rodrigez had been walking back from her daily walk down to the corner shop. She would never let on, but half the reason she made the time to come down each day was to see the sweet young man who always insisted on helping her cross the street.

She was surprised, and a little suspicious of the person who approached her that particular evening at the cross walk. Whoever they were, they were not her 'friendly neighbourhood spiderman' as he always insisted he was.

This man was wearing what appeared to be hardened red leather in an all over suit. He was also a lot older than her normal escort judging by his height and broad shoulders.

He had a very bad homemade cosplay mask of spiderman over what looked like another mask.

The man (she assumed) got close enough for her to read the words scrawled hastily across his chest in a messy hand.

'Spiderman! No really!'

Mrs Rodrigez fixed the man with a steely stare. She was 78, and like all older ladies, carried a large handbag that was filled with mostly useless junk that was just begging to be swung at him if he pulled anything she didn't like.

He had already gotten higher on her 'list' by pretending to be the younger vigilante. He was on thin ice as far as she was concerned.

"Hi! I can't help but notice that you are a helpless little old lady possibly in need of assistance across the street!"

The man offered her an arm, but was met with that steely stare being upped to an outright glare as she pulled him in close enough by that very same arm, to be nose to nose.

"If you've done anything to that sweet young man they will never find your body!"

[melodyofthevoid]

“ are you okay with me touching you? “

- with Seine and Ampere pls godbless

It was meant to be a simple little patrol. A test drive, if you would. Atlas gave some impassioned (if a bit derivative) speech about starting with the small things and being seen that Ampere had pretty much zoned out of.

He had a math test tomorrow, sue him.

Plus Seine always remembered routes so it was fine if he took a backseat for a little bit to go over the different conic sections in his head again. The hyperbola was the weird split one... right?

It was, as Seine confirmed once they got on the street.

And patrol was going fine. They stopped a few harassers from tailing and cat calling, managed to snag a petty thief, hung out around with some street musicians and get food along the way, not a bad night overall.

Around halfway through, though, Ampere noticed that none of the street signs looked- well. Familiar.

"Hey, uh, Seine? Where... are we exactly?"

"We're on the patrol route, obviously." She peered over the side of the fire escape stairs, "And don't tell me we're not, you didn't hear a word he said."

Okay first, ouch. Second though...

"Seine, are you sure? Absolutely sure? Because we did run off after that one purse thief, and then we stopped in at that bodega for a while, and..."

Seine paled, checking the street names more closely this time, eyes wide, "No- no I was sure we'd turned back around earlier-"

Seine scrambled down the stairs and down to the street, pulling at her hair as she muttered street name after street name before coming up short.

"It's our first mission I was so sure I had it all memorized and handled! I thought I- I was ready but I'm..."

She trailed off, voice failing her. Ampere rocked on his heels and glanced around, double checking (for her sake) that there weren't any gawkers. (They made fights and just existing hell.)

"Do you want me to call Atlas? He'll tell us where we're supposed to be going," yes his phone was dead but he could always charge it, "if we have to-"

"N-no," Seine muttered, head barely shaking.

From where Ampere was standing he could almost hear the thoughts racing around her head at a million miles per hour. Usually that resulted in more sparks for him, but Seine just stared, gaze unfocused and body trying so hard to keep up with the adrenaline.

Ampere crept towards her, hands up and open.

"A-are you okay with me touching you? My hands might still be a- a little staticky so I don't want to- to shock you."

Seine shook her head slightly again, breath still uneven and hands still shaking.

"Okay! Yup, no problem, no problem."

Shit, what did his mom say whenever he got overwhelmed? Ampere flapped his left hand as he mulled over what to do next. Options... something about options... Oh!

"Seine?"

"Mhm?"

"Distraction or help? I can just talk about stuff or," Ampere demonstrated possibly the most over exaggerated breathing exercise anyone had ever seen, "I can try to remember what the timing of a calming cat gif was."

His partner huffed out a half laugh, still quite tense but it was a start. She held up a single finger. Well, there was his answer.

"Okay, so I have a test tomorrow- geometry, so already fun right? Anyways, there's these things called conic sections- basically there's 4 of them: the circle, duh, the ellipse, the parabola, and the hyperbola..."

They stood in the alley for a while, Ampere rambling about everything he could remember, and Seine slowly coming back to earth, even splashing him when he asked her how her upcoming role as Juliet was going (she had a hopeless crush on the girl playing Rosaline). Once she was fully back, she gave him a hug, which he gladly returned.

"Promise you're not going to tell Atlas about this?"

"Only if you promise not to tell him I wasn't listening earlier."

"Deal."

Next patrol, he'd pay attention so Seine didn't have to carry the whole layout of the city. He could handle that.

And ideally he wouldn't have a test the next day either. A boy could dream.

[thepetulantpen]

(Based on @sprinklersart incredible roleswap au. Here’s the first bit-- the rest, mostly following episode 1, will be up on ao3 when I’m done editing! Should be sometime tomorrow.)

The concept of fate has never convinced Ava until now, when the first stop on her reunion tour of Harlan is to see Raylan Givens.

There he is, leaned against the porch railing and smiling the same smile she remembers from school. The Raylan Givens smirk, with all his outlaw charm and his doesn’t-give-a-shit attitude that she thought she’d gotten sick of. It’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to outgrow—but you never do, not until you’ve wound up making some irreversible mistakes.

Arlo’s house feels frozen in time, just as shitty and rickety as she remembers. She’s sure it’s actually worse- after all these years, and the trouble Arlo’s kicked up, there has to be more bullet holes than paint on its walls- but to her eyes, every spot of chipped paint and splintered wood is the same.

Raylan haunts this home like a specter, soul tied to a gravestone he doesn’t have a use for yet. He’s lost a lot of pieces of himself, over the years of hanging on for something better. A baseball career in as many pieces as Dickie’s shattered knee. Clouds of coal dust and collapsing rock weighing down his lungs, pinning him in place. He’ll always end up right back in Arlo’s front yard, in a box or otherwise.

Doesn’t mean he’s stopped trying. Ava knows, from the light reading she’s done in the office, that he’s not here especially often, disappearing to one of the Crowder’s many cabins whenever he can. Today’s an occasion, meeting the marshal and keeping her out of Arlo’s shit.

“Ava,” he calls, in a voice she no longer knows, “Just as pretty as I remember. What’re you doing, all the way out here?”

She stops at the top of the stairs, at an invisible boundary between the civilized world and whatever Arlo keeps locked up in there. Raylan’s standing just subtly in her way, keeping her from the threshold. It’s not Arlo she’s here for- but it pays to be safe, she supposes.

She shifts, hand drifting to her waist. Not settling on her gun, though with a Givens, that might’ve been recommended. “I imagine the star might’ve given that away.”

“I meant here,” he says, just a touch of annoyance bleeding into his tone, “in Harlan County, on my daddy’s porch.”

“Why, Raylan, I think you know the answer to that, too.”

“It’s not because you were just dying to see me?” That smile again, aimed directly at her like a fucking spotlight. It’s been too long—so sue her, if she finds it charming. She doesn’t flinch, though, and Raylan’s eyes darken ever so slightly, disappointed. “You’re lookin’ for Boyd.”

It says a lot about Raylan’s self-awareness that he knows- of all the criminals he works with, even lives with- she’s here for Boyd. Not in a Crowder’s holler, but the Givens’ doorstep, since it’s the only place she’s guaranteed to find one of them without stepping in a bear trap first.

Harlan’s got the same complications and simplicities it always has. The marshals haven’t been particularly subtle about nosing their way into Boyd’s business— just the amount of subtlety he’s owed, after the stunt with a rocket launcher. And where there is Boyd’s business, there is Raylan’s business, and where there is Raylan’s business, there is a threat to Arlo’s business. Arlo is in the wind, chasing god-knows-what, with god-knows-who— but the Givens home has a guard, as it always must.

“Folks say you two are tied at the hip these days,” Ava says, trying to put it lightly. They may as well have put a billboard up. Not that it’s any news, to the people who grew up with them— one of those awful things you see coming, and can’t stop. Red skies at dawn. A train careening off its tracks. Two boys tangled up in the back of a truck. “Among other things. Not that I’m here to judge.”

“Just to arrest him.”

She inclines her head. Only a nod if you’re a particularly generous observer. “The Marshal Service wants to have a word with him. We were hoping you might help arrange that, you two bein’ so close.”

It’s so far from the realm of possibility, it’s almost embarrassing to suggest— but Ava is the new girl, and she’s stuck with shit like this. Least she can do is make Raylan squirm a bit. Maybe more than a bit; she’s probably owed that, after everything Harlan’s put her through.

“Wish I could help you,” Raylan runs a hand through his hair, jaw working as he considers his next move. He’s holding something back—other than the obvious, “but Boyd’s not interested in hearing from the marshals. Least of all you.”

“Me?” Something about the Crowder clan’s vendetta is funny to her— now that they’re on opposite sides of the law, and still arguing over a divorce. The people of Harlan couldn’t tell you the difference between a feud over a dead man, and a feud over a baseball game. “Why, what could Boyd Crowder have against me?”

Raylan sighs, comically beleaguered— like a tired housewife, covering up for the world’s dumbest mob boss, “Boyd tells me to tell you that he’s giving you 24 hours to get out of Harlan.”

“Is that what he said?” She smiles and tilts her head, innocently, “And what would happen if I didn’t?”

“He didn’t elaborate,” Raylan says, “though I did omit some bullshit remorse for having to hurt a woman. For your sake and mine.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Raylan.” She leans partially around him, looking in the doorway without making any moves forward. “Does Arlo have blocks of cocaine stacked in your living room, or can you invite me in for a drink?”

Raylan shifts, looking off behind her like they’re still in high school, dodging their parents. Like Arlo might be coming up the driveway, shotgun in hand, any minute now. “Suppose that’d be alright. There’s nothing fancy in the fridge, just beer.” He pushes the door open casually, but follows her closely. Doesn’t take chances, not like his old man.

The interior of the house is better than Ava imagined, though it is helped by her having imagined it gutted, an empty front. It’s clear that Helen still lives here occasionally- when she’s not tailing Arlo, or visiting marginally more pleasant relatives- manages to look livable, so long as you’re alright with the cheapest beer available. Raylan hadn’t lied about that, at least.

Ava accepts her drink— it’s not to her taste, and she’s on duty, but she figures she’ll need something if she’s going to spend the day in Harlan, thoughts of Crowders and rocket launchers stuck in her head. She watches Raylan, and his manufactured flippancy as he leans against the counter across from her. “Did you know I’ve had a crush on you since I was twelve years old?”

Raylan raises an eyebrow, not surprised, “Since?”

She hums, crossing the kitchen to stand close to him. A part of her considers throwing caution to the wind and getting her kiss, right here and now. Start taking back everything Harlan never gave her. Another part of herself is still seething at being trapped here, forced to go back on her word. Crowded into another goddamn holler when she’s seen what else the world can offer.

There’s likely room for both of those trains of thought, given the time and opportunity.

“Raylan,” she says, real close to him now— he’s not quite smiling at her, because he’s not as much of a fool as he’d like her to believe, “I need you to understand something. You may be pretty, and you may have something— let’s say special with Boyd, but,” she looks up at him, “I got dragged down here to deal with Boyd, and if I have to do it with a bullet between his eyes, that’s how I’ll do it.”

“See, now I’m getting mixed messages,” he brushes her hair away from her face, implying he is absolutely not confused about what messages he’s supposed to be receiving, “First, you tell me you have a crush on me. Then, you tell me you’re fixing to shoot my closest friend.”

“Closest friend? Is that what we’re calling Boyd?”

Raylan smiles, almost sheepish, and hums. “Sure. Just like we’re calling Winona your best friend. Ex best friend, excuse me.” His eyes are sharper, serious. The sheepishness disappears.

It gives her pause. She doesn’t pull back—that’d be just as good as blood in the water, in this home. Her hand finds his arm, and his hand finds her waist. Slow, like he’s still not sure if she’s going to shoot him. She hasn’t quite made up her mind.

“Least Winona hasn’t blown up any banks.”

“That you know of,” Raylan grins, and it’s empty, doesn’t reach his eyes, “Say, isn’t shooting a man how you got into this trouble in the first place? The old countdown trick seems like something that’s only cute once.”

Not even a blink at his own hypocrisy. Maybe it’s because he’s washed his hands of Boyd’s half-cocked efforts to be an outlaw. Maybe it’s because he knows Boyd won’t put his money where his mouth is.

Maybe he has lost all the brains he used to have.

She tilts her head, but stays otherwise still. The hand on her waist stays where it is. “Are you going to pitch me on why I should let Boyd Crowder go, or were you hoping that sleeping with me would do the trick?”

“Would it?”

She sighs, having been all too sure he’d say that. “No, Raylan, it wouldn’t.”

“In that case, I do have a few things I could tell you. Like, for example,” he leans in, conspiratorial and not nearly serious enough for fraternization that could get him shot, “between the two of us, I’d say you need to worry more about Bowman.”

If they weren’t so close, if Raylan’s hand wasn’t on her, she’d freeze. As it is, she pretends they’re talking about any old criminal—someone she hasn’t shared an altar or a bed with. She’s good at this, at pretending. “That what Boyd told you to tell me?”

“Accusing me of conspiring with alleged criminals, now.” Raylan smirks, “Actually, I think he would be rather displeased to learn I told you that Bowman’s the one pushing the whole ‘get out of Harlan’ shtick.”

Ava leans back, and Raylan lets her go. His expression is perfectly still, calm and cold. None of the warmth she remembers from their school days. They’re having a different conversation now, one he was always planning on having. “And why wouldn’t he want me to know that? Seems to me he’s got the perfect out, with Bowman’s coercion.”

“Boyd wants to be the big, bad criminal that drove a marshal out of Harlan.” Raylan’s mouth twists, in some kind of distaste- hard to tell what for. She’d think it wouldn’t be for Boyd, but with the two of them, it’s not entirely out of the question. “Not some sucker stuck under Bowman’s thumb.”

“And what do you want, Raylan?”

“I just don’t want Boyd to end up shooting, or getting shot by, a federal. That’s the kind of stupid shit our daddies would do.”

It’s the first thing he’s said that Ava’s fully believed, the closest he’ll get to admitting anything near concern. Because Raylan, he’s not like Arlo, he knows when to cut his losses. It’s just a shame he couldn’t have gotten out of Harlan before he landed in bed with one of them.

This is all Harlan is, boys doing the same stupid shit their daddies would be doing if they weren’t in jail or shot or worse. Boyd and Raylan are the same as everyone else, taking after the fathers they hate, except — except their daddies would’ve taken up with some young pretty thing they could control, something they could choke and bleed the life out of. Raylan and Boyd have uniquely decided to be each other’s poison.

“If that’s really what you want,” she says, feels like she has to, even if she knows how this goes, “I suggest you get into a different line of work.”

Raylan laughs, really laughs. It’s only a little more mean than she remembers. “Thanks for the suggestion. I suppose it really would be better to see Boyd choke to death on coal dust, or have his head blown off in a desert.”

She wonders what he’s trying to do here, if he really thinks any of this will make a difference. As if Ava, of all people, could stop Boyd from doing what he wants to do. Especially where Raylan’s already failed. “Prison would kill him slower.”

“You need work on your persuasive arguments.” Raylan pulls away from her completely, turns to the fridge to get another drink. He doesn’t offer her one. “Maybe you should stick to the countdown thing.”

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, some message from the office she’s probably going to ignore. Raylan’s shoulders are hunched, annoyed now that he’s said everything he’s wanted to say and she’s still here. He keeps glancing at the door, waiting for someone, and Ava’s not sure she wants to stick around to find out who.

“Do you have any other sage advice for me?”

“Yeah,” Raylan doesn’t look up at her, feigning preoccupation with the fridge, “Keep an eye on your girl. Bowman’s still driving that shitty red pickup.”

[sweeethinny]

Emerald Eyes

Summary: After Lily Evans kisses him, James needs help to figure out what to do in that situation. And who better to help him and Sirius with relationship issues if not his dad?

Notes: I was reading @startanewdream's fanfic Exist Song (For Film) when she wrote about a song that spoke of emerald eyes.

I remembered the song Claudia by Finneas, and needed to write about Jily's first kiss, and somehow get Fleamont involved.

I don't think I've ever read a fanfic where he helps James and Sirius with relationship issues, so I wrote it! I know James only becomes prefect in seventh year, but I needed him to become sixth, to make sense of the story.

sue me

AO3

-------

James was fine about just being friends with Lily, really, he was up for it and he liked being friends with her. Of course, he still thought about kissing her and, dammit, sometimes dreamed of her with her clothes off and couldn't look her in the eye for the next three days. But overall, he was fine with his old crush.

Everything was fine, it was just a crush, he would get over it.

He liked other girls over the last few years, liked hanging out with them, kissing them, and there was one muggle girl that James really thought was going to be something more serious - he even lost his virginity to her. But things didn't go as it should and life went on. Sirius comforted him that his crush on Lily was probably because he idealized her in a way that it was now difficult for him to like other girls, but that James needed to let go of the 'what ifs' and move on.

James tried, he swears he did.

But when Lily Evans kissed him on the train back to King Cross, after a prefect meeting where James was trying not to sleep, things completely fell apart for him.

When he got back to his friends, James felt very lost, and Remus even asked if he was alright, but all James could do was nod and touch his lips in fear that the feeling of Evans' soft, sweet lips would go away and he realized it was a dream.

As much as he had dreamed very hot things about Lily, they never kissed, so James wasn't prepared for it at all, he was just imagining it was supposed to be good. But it wasn't just good, it was stupidly good.

So good that he spent all the traveling hours remembering. And when they arrived at the station, he could only think of meeting Lily to say that he thought he was in love. Was this possible?

"Mate?" Sirius asked, following him out of the wagon. '’Did something happen at the meeting?'’

"No, I-" James saw her, which automatically made him forget all the words his parents had taught him, suddenly his brain shutting down and only caring about one thing; Lily Evans.

James didn't know what to do, if he was going to talk to her or not, if he waved, if he called her, if he shouted for everyone to hear that she kissed him… James wanted there to be a manual on how to deal with this situation, because he felt so lost and it was stupid.

There was no time to do anything however, the students were hurrying to leave and pushed James who had been standing in the middle of the corridor, while Lily blushed and smiled awkwardly, giving the boys a wave and then getting off the train.

Should that mean something? Why didn't she talk to him?!

''Come on James, I want to go home.'' Peter complained, making him wake up from his reverie and follow them outside, knowing Sirius was watching him with the eyes of an eagle, and that probably Remus too, but very more discreet.

After they said their goodbyes and headed off to find his parents, Sirius whispered, never bending over or making it sound like he was whispering, "You kissed her, didn't you?"

"She did it." James swallowed, still completely shocked. "Best kiss of my life, I must say."

"Fuck, James." Sirius shook his head, walking faster and accepting Euphemia's hug as James greeted his dad with a longing hug.

"Are you two okay?" Monti asked, a hand in James' hair and an all-too-knowing look that made him think his dad had heard, by some miracle, what Sirius had said. Fleamont always seemed to know everything.

"Yes, perfect." Sirius smiled. ‘’Right, James?’’

‘’Yes, more perfect than this impossible.’’

[...]

That night, after Euphemia left for the annual florist dinner she always went to, Fleamont called James and Sirius down to the dungeons, where he had finished brewing another beer. James knew his dad wasn't an idiot and he knew the two of them had already been drinking in hiding there on several occasions, but he liked that they were now considered old enough to be able to go there without having to dodge.

"So, how were things at school this year?" his dad asked, pouring some beer into each of their glasses, sitting on the wooden bench he and Sirius had helped to assemble last summer. "Any news?" Fleamont lingered at James, but then smiled at Sirius and glared at him too.

"Yeah, I think I'm liking someone," Sirius said, and then looked at the glass of beer in front of him on the pine table.

''You think? How can this be? Either you are, or you aren't.” Fleamont didn't seem to judge him, that gentle smile that had James spilling so much of his secrets over the past few years to his dad for help.

"She's a little complicated," Sirius ran a hand through his hair, taking a sip of his beer. ‘’ She says she doesn't want anything, but then she gets mad when I talk to another girl? I don't know, I like her, I just don't know how… you know?’’

"No." James didn't know how Sirius still hadn't learned to never do that to his dad. Fleamont would never say what he thought you meant, even if he was sure what it was, he would always make you talk.

‘’How to tell her.’’ It was funny and almost frightening how Sirius looked like someone else when he arrived at his house. There he didn't have to pretend anything or be an asshole to draw attention, his parents were always willing to listen to him, just like they did with James and that's probably why he always seemed very comfortable telling things to Fleamont, like now.

"Well, I think you two are friends at least?" Sirius nodded. ‘’So, be honest with her. What do you have to lose?''

‘’Her friendship? Humiliate me? Do you hate me, Monti?’’

"Sirius, don't talk like that," Fleamont stood up, a little slower than he used to when James was younger, but still quick for a man of nearly sixty. "When I told Mia I liked her," He floated a pot of potato chips off the top of one of the cupboards, like he did after James had behaved himself and helped him clean the yard. ‘’I felt like I might pass out at any moment, I was in a cold sweat… We were in front of her house, at night, after I took her on a date,’’

''I hope you were respectful Monti, I don't want to be disappointed in you when I found out you took her to a dodgy bar.'' Sirius joked, making James laugh along with him, knowing he'd just done it to make himself feel less nervous.

Sirius did this whenever someone was paying attention to him and actually treating him as an equal, James had noticed this over the years.

"Of course not, we went to a fair near her house," Fleamont sat back down, putting a portion of the potatoes into a smaller pot. ''Anyway, at the end of the night, I knew I needed to tell her that I loved her, which today I think was a silly thing, because I didn't even know what love was yet,'' He shrugged, a smile on his face. "I was young and Mia was, and still is, the most beautiful woman I've ever met, I felt I couldn't let her go without knowing it."

"She said she liked you too?" James asked, and for the first time he was interested in that story. His dad looked at him with that look that said he knew exactly why James was paying attention, but he didn't say anything.

"No, and it made me very angry and humiliated." He glanced at Sirius, who raised his eyebrows as if proving a point. ''But I wasn't fair to her, Mia was just being truthful, but I was too young to understand that sometimes things just don't happen at the right time... A few weeks later, I met her at a family dinner and we talked, and she said she didn't love me, but she liked me.'' He shrugged. "I think she loves me these days, I mean we're married and we have a family." Sirius chuckled.

"How did you know she was the right one?" James asked, looking at his half-finished beer. "I mean, let's assume," Monti nodded, paying attention to what he said as if it were the most interesting thing. ‘’If you had dated other people and so did she, how would you know she was the right person?’’

“Hm… wouldn't know, son.” Fleamont shrugged, pouring himself more beer. ‘’And I didn't know then either. Just happened.''

"I asked Hestia out," Sirius admitted, and not even James knew it, so he turned his head to his friend with an almost incriminating look, but it was gone as soon as he saw the annoyed smile on his lips. ‘’But she didn't want to go, so… I guess she's ashamed of me? I don't know, she's really smart and a good girl, I don't think she wants to be seen with a guy like me.”

“A guy like you?” Fleamont grabbed some chips.

"Monti, no need to pretend you don't know," Sirius rolled his eyes. "I don't have a good family, and you've had to sign a lot of letters because of my detentions."

‘’Hm… yeah, you're right about the detentions, but the family? Sirius, you are not a reflection of your parents' mistakes. Maybe she doesn't want to go out with you right now, and maybe, most likely, you aren't even the problem at all. Who can guarantee us that she… Hestia, right? That Hestia isn't going through a difficult time where she doesn't really know how to deal with this sort of thing, and just needs some time? You're not always the villain in the story, son, actually you never were.'' Sirius looked like he wanted to deny it, James noticed how his brow furrowed, but it eased as Fleamont pushed the pot of chips towards him, a fatherly smile at the lips that seemed to make Sirius' beast fall back to the ground like a trained dog.

James thought of Lily, the things he'd witnessed over the past few months and how she seemed to be dealing with a lot more than that these past few days. He still remembered how sad she looked when she read a letter that had come to her from her mum. James didn't ask what was written, of course, but he tried to make her smile for the rest of the day and during their patrol, hating that her brow was so furrowed.

The war was getting worse, a lot of people were dying, and the mini death eaters were really putting into practice what they had been learning in the last few years. It was frustrating, to say the least, that Dumbledore did nothing to stop sixteen-year-olds from getting their arms marked by Voldemort.

He wished he could help her, not just because now that spark of feeling inside his chest had become a scorch of acres and would leave a huge footprint inside him, but because James really cared about her before anything else.

"Dad, um…" James began, not quite sure how to speak, or what. ‘’Can we install a muggle phone?’’

"Of course," Fleamont smiled, just as he had smiled at Sirius. ‘’And you son, how was school?’’

‘’Well, I… Nothing too important but… it was a good year. There haven't been a lot of detentions this year, so I think it's a win.” He joked, just because it was a little weird talking about it with his dad.

"But he wanted to be dating," Sirius nudged, pouring more beer into his glass.

“Oh, is that that muggle girl?” Fleamont at least looked away, spending more time than necessary picking out some chips to eat. James mentally thanked him.

"No, and Sirius doesn't know what he's talking about." James rolled his eyes, wanting to push him off the stool. ‘’I decided that this year I will dedicate myself to studies.’’

"Oh James, you don't have to lie to your old man so much like that, it's okay, your mum isn't here so come on, tell me, what can I help you with?"

"It's her again, Monti," Sirius reveals, as if he doesn't say much.

James wanted to kill him now.

‘’Evans? Oh, son, are we still in it? When will I meet her? I'm starting to imagine you guys invented her because it's been almost five years since I first heard her name and never saw her.” Sirius and his dad laugh together, watching James blush like a fool. ‘’What happened this time? I thought you had raised a white flag for her… Is it because of her that you want to install the phone?’’

‘’It's just… She has family issues, and I think she's going to be alone this vacation since Marlene has traveled and Hestia too, so… I just thought about trying to call her. She gave me her phone number before classes ended, and I think it might cheer her up, I don't know, we're friends and I don't want to-’’

‘’Mate, you kissed her today, what kind of friendship is this?’’

''I wasn't the one who kissed her, she was the one who came at me, and for Merlin's sake, can't you shut up?!'' Fleamont doesn't intervene in the boys' discussion, seeming to enjoy it, and James almost took back everything he said and ran to his room to hide under the covers, but his dad seemed to notice this and became serious again.

"James," he said, in a warning tone but still with the shadow of a smile on his face. "It's kind of you to worry about her like that, anyway, but I think Sirius is right, I don't believe there are friendships where people kiss."

‘'She didn't even talk to me about it later, she just… ran away, leaving me alone. I don't think she even wanted to do that or I’m a bad kisser.'’

‘’It is a possibility, for sure,’’

"Even more if we think you ate that plum candy before the meeting, which smells disgusting." Sirius grimaced.

"But, you even said, she's having problems at home, and like I told Sirius, it's not all about you. She probably doesn't know what to do or say either, and is afraid of ruining the friendship… The best thing to do is ask her what it means, but knowing that maybe the answer will hurt you. It's a risk you take.” James nodded, looking at the beer kegs near the wall, and then down to his own glass again. "We'll install the phone and you'll call her, maybe that doesn't encourage Sirius to be less fearful and send Hestia a letter." Fleamont smiled. "There's nothing to lose, for either of you, just tell them how you feel."

''Haha! He would die before he did that, you know what he did last month?’’ James grinned vengefully, dodging Sirius' hand that tried to cover his mouth as his dad laughed at them both.

[...]

''OK.''

"Potter, just do it."

"Padfoot, what if she curses me-"

''She is not going.''

‘’ But she can. ’’

‘’Call her for fucking sake!’’

"Quiet or my mum will listen, and she doesn't need to know we can swear." James took a deep breath, the crumpled paper in his hands trembling as he noted the number written there, then looked at the buttons on the phone.

The man who came to install it had explained to them how it worked, but James was so nervous he'd forgotten all about it.

"Just dial!" Sirius cried for the umpteenth time, sitting beside him in the armchair, a Muggle magazine in his hands.

"Mum will kill you if she sees this." James pointed at the five women in bikinis, in very indecent positions for a rock magazine.

''Shut up Potter, and call her or I'll do it.'’ James huffed, rolling his eyes and looking at the numbers again.

Okay, he could do that.

Yes, just do it, James.

"Hello?" Evans' sweet voice sounded from the other end, it didn't sound much like her, it was a little more harsh and hurt than James used to hear, but it was definitely her. He tried to picture her by the phone, probably wearing a T-shirt from some muggle band he didn't know but would try to learn about just to impress her.

"Hello… Lily?"

“James?” Her voice radiated happiness then, as if she were grinning from ear to ear. His stomach turned over. ''Is that you?''

"Yes, yes it's me." Sirius chuckled softly, patting him on the shoulder and walking out of the room, probably so James would feel more comfortable being a lovesick fool. ''How are you?''

‘’I'm fine, I… how did you call me? Did you buy a phone?

"It was something my dad had wanted for a long time, so it was pretty easy to convince him." James grinned. “I just called to…um…just to say I like you, Evans. I really like it, and maybe you don't feel that way, and I know things aren't easy, but I really care about you, and if you don't… like me, that's fine, I'll understand. But ever since you kissed me I… I keep thinking about you, and I keep thinking about kissing you again, so I called just to tell you that… I like you a lot, Lily.'' James took a deep breath, feeling as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

Lily took a while to speak, which made him a little, very, nervous, and James even considered hanging up the phone and never using it again, but he remembered what his dad had said about listening to what she had to say and not rush.

"I…I like you too, James." He could hear her smile, even though her voice was a little quieter now. "I can't stop thinking about you and our kiss, either." His cheeks would tear. ‘’And… would you like to go out with me? For a date?’’

"Evans, I think if you asked me to jump off a bridge right now, I would." She laughed, one of the most beautiful sounds James had ever heard in his life. ''Yes I do.''

‘’Great, I… I need to turn it off now because Petunia is taking a shower and if I take too long the water will be cold and she won't leave me alone anymore, but-’’

"I'll call you later," James said before she even asked. He didn't lie when he said he would do anything for her, and if that meant talking to her on the phone overnight, he would. It was so much better than a letter, it took less time, and there was also the fact that he could hear her voice. It couldn't be better. "See you later, Lily."

"See you, James."

[therenlover]

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

a/n: I don’t honestly know how I came up with this. I guess I just really liked the yogurt I bought (I have big Gilear Faeth vibes rn) and decided I wanted to share it with all the Evans and you guys. I hope you enjoy and, like, maybe go buy some if you’re intrigued.

Warnings: Mild language, very small non-graphic mention of murder, recreational drug usage (Tate is a stoner, sue me)

--------

Tate Langdon

Because he died as a teen in the early 90′s, Tate would be a big fan of the types of crazy, super processed and flashy snacks that came out of that era.

Tate pretty much lived on 3D Doritos and Crystal Pepsi before his death. He still misses Dunkaroos.

He also has the biggest appetite of any ghost in the house because when he smokes he gets phantom munchies, so he sneaks into the kitchen and steals snacks to fulfill his cravings.

His first encounter with gushers yogurt would be on a snack run for the two of you while you were both zooted to high hell. 

He would return almost entirely snackless, fully fixated on the little yellow cup in his hand. 

“What the hell is this?” “Uh, yogurt?” “No, it’s not just yogurt, it’s weird!”

You’d finally look up from your place on the bed to find Tate in the doorway, red eyed, giving the yogurt cup a thousand yard stare.

Tate would be extremely confused because as far as he knew gushers were filled fruit snacks and definitely did NOT belong inside yogurt.

“Does it have gushers in it or something? Because that sounds awful,” “Kind of? It’s like... well, it would be easier to show you than to explain it. Did you bring a spoon?”

Of course he hadn’t.

When he did return with a spoon the two of you shared it.

Unsurprisingly, Tate didn’t hate it. It was a little weird, but overall it reminded him of the rare good times he had when he was still alive and the house hadn’t fully sunk it’s claws into him yet.

His favorite flavor is green apple. It just matches his vibe. 

Kit Walker

Kit is a man with pretty old fashioned values. He’s the kind of person who believes that he should be able to provide for his family so you don’t have to work. He also thinks it’s important for you to spend time with the kids because he’s gone at work so much.

This whole situation combined with the fact that money was a little tight led to you taking Thomas and Julia with you whenever you had to run errands and they weren’t at school.

One such time you were grocery shopping. That’s when they found the gushers yogurt.

 Kids have an eye for sweet things. Any food labelled like a dessert will make them go crazy, even if it’s just a flavored yogurt. 

In the end you bought a few. They were cheap enough that they didn’t make a huge difference to your budget and they were perfect to go in the kids lunches. 

Only the next morning did you realize that when you got the kids their yogurts you forgot to get Kit his own plain ones to put in his lunch. You mulled over your options and, in the end, decided to give Kit one of the gushers ones in his lunch pail for work. it’s just flavored yogurt, what could go wrong?

A lot, apparently.

At around lunch time you got a call from Kit at the shop.

“Mrs. Walka’, I believe I might have picked up the wrong lunch today,”

You’d immediately ask him what was wrong before remembering the yogurt.

“Nope, that’s yours Kit,” “Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” “Did I forget a spoon?”

Kit would explain, after some laughter, that the guys at the auto shop were giving him shit about the ‘kids yogurt’ in his lunch.

If you tried to apologize he’d stop you. It was all the same to him, he just wanted to make sure he hadn’t taken one of the kid’s lunches accidentally.

You’d laugh about it later as a bright spot in what ended up to be a long and tedious day for the both of you.

Besides that one occasion Kit wouldn’t eat gushers yogurt often, but sometimes if he was home during breakfast he’d have a cup of it with his cereal or toast.

He’s a fan of the classics, so his favorite flavor is tropical punch.

Kyle Spencer

Before his death, Kyle wouldn’t have any strong feelings towards gushers yogurt besides liking that it was a cheap snack that went on sale a lot.

As a broke college student with a calcium deficiency, he would appreciate it for what it was, a sweet means to an end.

After his death, though, it would be a different story.

Franken-Kyle had to re-learn all of his basic life skills from the ground up after the accident, which meant chewing food and not choking weren’t things he knew how to do automatically

In the time while he still couldn’t eat by himself, you fed him a lot of yogurt.

Most of the time it was cheaper and more pleasant that the baby food or health puree alternatives. It also was a food he had eaten pretty regularly when he was alive, so you thought it might make him happy to have some sense of normalcy in his new world.

He enjoyed the gushers yogurt particularly for a few reasons.

For one, it had fun colors! The bright reds, blues, and greens were entertaining and more mentally stimulating than the normal neutral colors of his food. It was also sweet, kind of like a dessert instead of a meal.

The big selling point, though, was the popping bubbles inside.

For a while after his death all Kyle ate were smooth semi-liquid foods he couldn’t possibly choke on while he re-learned how to feed himself. Gushers yogurt, though, had little popping bubbles that added texture while also not being large enough to choke on.

It was a win-win for both of you.

Even once Kyle had regained his ability to chew and eat normally, he still liked to have gushers yogurt with his breakfast.

“Bu...bbles,” “Huh?” “I want....bubbles” “Oh! You want the yogurt with the bubbles, Ky? I’ll get it in a second,” 

He wouldn’t have the words to express it, but the real reason Kyle likes gushers yogurt and continues to eat it is that it reminds him of you and the time you spent together while you taught him how to live again. 

His favorite is blue raspberry by a large margin. He enjoys tropical punch too, but he dislikes green apple.

Jimmy Darling

Jimmy has very few opinions when it comes to food. To him, eating is just something he has to do to keep himself alive and performing, so he doesn’t put much thought into what and when he eats, even at the diner.

When you first met him, he was barely eating one good meal a day just because he was so busy. 

So, one of the things you started to do when you and Jimmy got closer was bring him little snacks throughout the day he could eat quickly to keep him going.

They weren’t huge things, just an apple here and a sandwich there, but Jimmy really appreciated you putting in the effort to search him out and keep him healthy.

 The gushers yogurt would be introduced, once again, because it’s super inexpensive. 

You were out shopping for Jimmy’s snacks when you found it on sale, 20 for $10. It was a great deal, and Jimmy’s diet was severely lacking in calcium, so you bought a bunch of different flavors and brought one to him as a trial-run the next day after a performance.

“Hey dollface, you got something for me?” “I just might,” 

Only after he swept you up into a crushing hug would you be able to offer him the yogurt, which he’d take gratefully and eat in less than a minute. 

You took this as a good sign, and ended up buying some for Jimmy whenever it was on sale.

He asked you about why you bought them once and you genuinely couldn’t give him an answer. You just thought they were an easy snack and found they were on sale a lot more often than other things were.

Jimmy doesn’t have a favorite flavor, but if you asked him he’d just respond with whatever your favorite was.

James Patrick March

James Patrick March doesn’t usually have strong feelings about trivial things. As a serial killer and a ghost, small strange details of life in the 21st century just aren’t important enough for him to care about. Even modern foods with all of their artificial dyes and preservatives don’t tend to bother him. Well, all except one...

He fully believes that gushers yogurt is the worst, most evil thing that man has ever created in history, including himself.

It is entirely irrational how much he hates it.

The weirdest part is that he doesn’t mind how it tastes, he just has a random grudge against it by principle.

The first time he saw it was after Liz picked some up for you while she was out getting some groceries for the hotel.

James had come into the habit of asking you to make him grocery lists so the hotel had foods you enjoyed ever since the hoover stew incident. This time you had asked for something sweet you could eat as a snack between meals. Liz ended up picking out the gushers yogurts along with a few other little snacks

When you ran down to the kitchen to help Liz and Iris put the groceries away you grabbed a cup and ended up taking it upstairs so you could eat something while you were reading in bed.

It just so happens that James was finishing up with some office work and walked into your room right as you ate a spoonful of the bright blue yogurt. 

He was, to say the very least, concerned. 

Why was it that color? Food is not supposed to be that color???? And what were those little lumps?

While he fussed over your health, you held out your spoon and offered him a bite. He was skeptical at first, and his fears were only confirmed when he accepted the bite.

His delicate 1920′s tastebuds couldn’t take it.

“Darling, how do you eat that slop?” “James, it’s just yogurt!” “That is not yogurt, it’s an affront to the universe,”

Never one to back down in the face of James, you asked Liz to keep buying them every time she went out for groceries

Things were quiet until, a few months later, you found James standing over a recent kill eating a gushers yogurt.

“Darling, this isn’t what it looks like,” “I think it’s exactly what it looks like,” “There wasn’t anything else in the fridge,” “James, you’re dead. You don’t have to eat,” “...drat,”

James is adamant that he doesn’t have a favorite flavor because he hates it.... but its actually tropical punch.

Rory Monahan 

Rory normally wouldn’t feel any which way about gushers yogurt.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a goof and has nothing against eating fun little dessert yogurt, there’s just no reason for him or you to buy and eat it.

But if he got a brand deal with Yoplait to advertise it?

Count him in.

You’re eating gushers yogurt with every meal while he vlogs.

Breakfast? Yup. Lunch? Yup. Dinner? Yup.

Oh, you’re getting a snack? Well the only snack Rory bought when he ran out to the store is gushers yogurt. 

It’s all over his social media.

He ends up becoming the face of Yoplait and does quite a few primetime commercials, which surprisingly help out with his career. Think what Shaq is the The General Auto Insurance. 

“Now with new popping bubbles that gush with roarin’ fruity flavor,” “pffffft!” “What! It’s paying our bills!” 

Despite being surrounded by gushers yogurt, Rory wouldn’t actually have a favorite flavor. Once you eat that much yogurt it all tastes exactly the same.

Kai Anderson

Kai... well Kai is a tough one, as usual.

He’s not someone who likes to be perceived as weak, and what’s weaker than a man who’s seen eating flavored yogurt made for kids?

Well, a lot of things, but Kai’s toxic masculinity doesn’t let him see that.

In his eyes, gushers yogurt is simply not befitting of the divine ruler.

If you were close enough to him to offer some in a private moment, he’d probably find some way to use it in a weird, extended metaphor about the world in the hopes of manipulating you.

“In this world there’s people like me, like this yogurt, and people like you, fragile bubbles waiting to burst and spread your issues to the people who can still be saved. People like me cushion-” “Oh shut up and eat your yogurt, Kai,” 

Kai doesn’t have a favorite flavor, but kind of like James he’s only being pretentious. Who knew divine rulers are above picking favorite flavors?

Peter Maximoff

Peter would be the most on-board of anybody on the gushers yogurt trend. Like, even more on board than Kyle. 

This man uses a loooot of energy while he’s running around, so he needs super sugary foods like twinkies to be around for his inevitable snackfests at random hours of the day.

He also loves junk food. At one point you started wondering whether the X-gene prevented Peter from getting cavities, because he eats more sugar than anybody else you know. 

You like to go shopping with Peter because it keeps him from stealing (well, keeps him from stealing as much, but that’s beside the point) and even though he acts like a literal child whenever you make him come with you, he appreciates slowing down and spending time doing something you like.

Usually he gets bored easily in the “healthy food” aisles at the grocery store, meaning anything that isn’t the soda, chips, or snack aisles, but during a random trip to the store he suddenly rushed off out of your sight while you were in the dairy aisle picking up cottage cheese.

When he came back a second later, his arms were full of yogurt.

“Peter, what are you doing?” “Have you seen these? Look at the flavors! They have starburst, and key lime pie, and gushers with popping beads!!!! Popping! Beads!”

You would try to insist that he didn’t need to buy that much yogurt, especially because he hadn’t tried it before and didn’t know if he’d like it, but Peter would give you his world famous puppy dog eyes and you’d give in. 

From then on he’d have gushers yogurt (and starburst yogurt, to be honest) in his mini-fridge most of the time.

You didn’t mind. Technically it was healthier than his twinkie addiction, so as long as your speedster was getting calcium in his diet you weren’t about to complain.

He probably has stronger bones than Wolverine with all the yogurt he eats.

His favorite flavor is green apple, but he’d say it’s blue raspberry to go with his aesthetic. 

[dutchdread]

Hi again, I'm the same anon from your last ask. So my next question then is why would you consider it to be a bad story if Cloud ends up with Aerith in the end? You also say Cloud and Tifa supposedly have something going on, but even if they did, Aerith doesn't know that. Neither Cloud nor Tifa tell anyone, or even show that there's anything going on between them throughout the whole story. Did you see that in Remake that Aerith even asks Cloud if Tifa is someone special and he says no?

Thanks for the question. Your question is comprised of two parts, why Cloud ending up with Aerith would be a bad story, and then the secondary part about Aerith not knowing about the history between Tifa and Cloud. I think understanding the later will be helpful to understand the former so I'll start with that. This goes back to what I said in my last reply concerning the difference between thinking someone is a bad person, and thinking they're a bad character. First off, let me just make clear that I don't judge Aerith too much concerning her behavior in the OG, since as you rightly state, she didn't really know that there was anything going on between Tifa and Cloud, she probably knew there was some attraction there, but nothing about the extent or the history. And if in the remake it turns out she's actually blissfully ignorant I'll be more lenient there as well. However, in my opinion the remake heavily implies she does realize there is a thing between Tifa and Cloud. You mentioned Aerith asking if Tifa was Clouds girlfriend, and him replying "no". However, as always, there is context here, for starters, the scene doesn't end there and then. Aerith replies knowingly "but she's someone special". Moreover the scene is also only one scene in a series of relevant scenes concerning Clouds relationship with Tifa, which starts with Jessie asking about who Tifa is too Cloud, this plotpoint then continues through Aeriths flower. When Aerith gives Cloud the flower she mentions that his girlfriend will love it, then later when Aerith asks him who he gave the flower to Cloud says he doesn't remember, and Aerith calls him out on the lie. The question is then answered when Aerith goes to the 7th heaven and discovers Cloud gave it to Tifa, prompting a smile from Aerith. She figured it out, actually, she probably figured it much earlier, but now it was confirmed. She had a hunch about Tifa, just like Jessie, Cloud was defensive at first, then evasive, but ultimately, Aeriths hunch was correct, Cloud gave the flower to Tifa. He can pretend all he wants, Aerith knows. Personally, I think she smiled because it reminds her of the future. Throughout remake Aerith is hinted to know more than she lets on, and that's especially true concerning Tifa and Cloud. When Tifa is kidnapped she pushes Cloud to go after Tifa, calling Tifa Clouds special person. If I recall correctly she even uses the same terminology that she used to describe Elmyras husband. She actively tries to make Tifa jealous by calling Cloud her bodyguard, and then she straight up tells Tifa to follow her heart. She gives me the distinct impression that she knows perfectly well where Cloud and Tifas hearts lie, and is trying to push them into action. This is borderline confirmed during the Aerith resolution where she basically straight up admits to knowing more about Clouds feelings than she actually should, assuming you think that this apparition is at least somewhat related to the current Aerith in some manner. The thing that really clenches this in my opinion is a trace of two pasts, where Tifa straight up tells Aerith about her and Clouds history. If Aerith doesn't get it by then, then she's being willfully ignorant. But lets say she does indeed not know, that would to some degree absolve her as a person. But it would still make her a bad character, because WE, the audience, know. We know that Cloud is supposed to end up with Tifa, we know that's how the story goes. And when you rewrite old stories in such a way that you take things away from one character, just to give more to another character, you run the giant risk of insulting the characters involved. You see this in things like the star wars sequels, where they effectively character assassinated Luke Skywalker in order to artificially make Rey seem better. But there are two reasons why this doesn't work, for one, it tends to create Mary-Sue like characters who just get given everything, and two, it inherently causes the fans of the other characters and stories to resent the character that's taking it away.

People don't like people who are simply handed everything, even fictional ones.

In a sense, this is also why Cleriths so often seem to hate Tifa, because they feel like Tifa took their story away from them. The difference, of course, is that Cloud ending with Tifa is a part of the original game itself, while Aerith coming back to life and ending up with Cloud would be a 25 year retcon which would blatantly disadvantage one character in favor of another, this in turn would reek of favoritism, which in turn would generate bad blood in the player. A character who needs to take away from other characters in order to be put forward is not a good character. Good characters add to the characters around them, not take away, that's what Aerith in the OG does, that's what Aerith ending up with Cloud, would not do. This effect would then be magnified by Aeriths already over importance to the plot. Having the universe revolve around one character generally isn't good writing. One of the things that makes Lord of the rings so timeless and beloved is that Frodo is just a small hobbit in the grand scheme of things. Likewise, one of the key elements that makes FFVII so appealing to human nature is Clouds humanity and lack of importance. The fact that Cloud turns out to not be a soldier 1st class, but just a grunt who wasn't good enough, who still ends up being the one who saves the world, speak to the human spirit. Aerith living and ending up with Cloud wouldn't be just a small difference where the overall story would stay the same with only the love interest switched, no, it would inherently ripple effect into all other aspects of the story. From the smallest details to the overall themes of the story, from directing to the personalities of characters, everything would be effected and all of it would fall apart. I could go over a hundred examples but I'll limit myself to some of the smallest and largest. Stories have a flow, where what is happening follows logically from what came before. It's not that it's impossible to write a story where two characters that are roughly similar to Cloud and Aerith fall in love, get separated by death, and where the Cloud character mourns and pines for her after she's gone. The problem comes when you add in Tifa, Zack, and all the other context and details of the story. Consider Zack, if we take the concept of Zack as it relates to Cloud and Aeriths relationship and boil it down to the essentials we could see it as a story about a girl falling in love with a boy because he's channeling the spirit of her dead ex, the main internal conflict the characters need to overcome could then be the question of whether these feelings are true, or whether they are just the shadow of her feelings for the old boyfriend. On the surface, this premise works as the basis of a story. The problem lies in the execution. If you write such a story there are a few things you can and cannot do. For one, you have to make this love exceptionally obvious, you can't tell a story about whether or not feelings are true if you never even get to establishing the feelings in the first place. One of the key things you need to do for this is establish the two characters central importance to the others internal emotional arcs. The first thing you DON'T do is establish a second female character and have Clouds emotional arc revolve mainly around her. If you want to tell a story where Tifa and Clouds relationship turns out to just be friendship, while Aerith and Cloud turns out to be love, then you show the scenes establishing that. However, whenever Cleriths argue for a story like this they have to assert that Cloud no longer loving Tifa is just something that happened off-screen and is never mentioned. But if this were true, this would be extremely important to show. So again, if this is the story, then this is bad direction, aka, storytelling. Scene choices matter, if your story requires you to assume that the scenes you're shown aren't important, and that the crucial bits have to be imagined to happen of screen, then that's bad writing. And the reason you can't suddenly do it now, 25 years later, is

because of a thing called "set-up". Even if they were to change to story to suddenly direct it as such now, it would constitute a drastic change of direction, which means the larger 2-decade long story we've been told is no longer a single coherent whole. If the story in remake is that Cloud always loved Aerith, then why wasn't the ground work for that lain 25 years ago? If you want to say that the story is about Cloud loving Aerith, and ending up with her eventually, then you can't have Cloud not speak her name for the second half of the original game, and devote that time completely to establishing port-mortem that Cloud wasn't himself while with Aerith, and that his true self has deeply ingrained feelings towards another woman. And not some minor character who exists only as a plot-device, some fake hurdle designed to try to raise some fake tension, but Tifa, a character who is routinely established to be the "heroine" of the game, someone of equal importance to Aerith who cared for Cloud while he was in a coma, whose history with Cloud started his internal character arc, whose history with Cloud resolved his internal character arc, and who lives with Cloud 2 years later.

And the same thing goes for Zack, it was possible to write him as negligible when it was just FFVII, if you ignored the addition of Tifa and JUST focused on the Zack element as a side character. But the addition of Tifa and the existence of Crisis Core cause the narrative to become disjointed when trying to view it as a single story. This is why people so often want you to ignore Crisis Core, because they understand that if a conclusion of a story is that Zacks role isn't that important, then why did your story spend an entire game cementing the importance of Zack? One of the things I hear most from Cleriths is "why couldn't Cloud just get over his childhood crush on Tifa and fall in love with Aerith? It happens in real life" , or some other variation of "why couldn't this happen?" But this shows the problem with how they want the story to go, because stories aren't real life. Anything CAN happen in a story, but not anything should. Stories have a concept called " checkovs gun", if a gun is introduced into a story in the first act, it has to be fired somewhere down the line. If the gun turns out to not have a role in the story, why was it there? But the same thing doesn't apply in real life, in real life, chekovs guns almost never fire, with few exceptions, real life is a bad guide to how to write stories. Stories written like real life, generally suck. If characters in stories behaved like characters in real life, half their lines would be "uhhhhh", and half the scenes would be them sitting on the couch having meaningless unrelated events happen.

The entire flow, pacing, and sequence of events is wrong in a Clerith version of this story. In order to sell the idea that FFVII is a story about Aerith and Cloud getting together you first have to sell the idea that all these plot threats concerning Tifa essentially don't matter. But if they don't matter, then why are they there? What purpose do they serve? What purpose does Tifa serve? Or Zack? In order to "fix" their preferred interpretation, Cleriths need to get around this problem, which causes them to have to re-interpret everything that happens and twist it in order to create the appearance of a coherent story. This requires them to resort to minimizing characters, character assassinating characters, and generally misrepresenting everything that happens. I think there is no bigger indication of why Cloud and Aerith getting together would suck as a story than looking at how the people who propose this version of the story look at Cloud and Tifa as characters. What follows are some excerpts from the dumbest person I've ever debated.

This went on for over 200 replies, this is not a mentally sound interpretation of the story, but this is what you need to believe in order to get the Aerith/Cloud love story to work. You're forced to minimize Tifa and her importance to the story, and you need to demonize Cloud. So basically you have two options here, you either have to say "all this stuff with Tifa and Zack, doesn't matter", all their scenes, all those plot threats, they all aren't a part of the larger story being told and ultimately amount to nothing. Or two, you remove all those scenes or rewrite them to instead focus on Cloud and Aerith. And both those approaches suffer from the same basic problem, they're both effectively going "screw everything, all that matters is Cloud and Aerith". Which brings me back to my earlier point. If your story is pushing everything aside in order to hype up the main character, you're not writing a good ensemble story, you're writing a bad fan-fiction. This is the writing people HATE. Cloud is no longer a sad but likable character with complex motivations and feelings who wasn't as important as he thought he was, no, he's cliche self-insert main character that the world revolves around, who every girl genuinely loves regardless of whether or not it makes sense, even though he's a complete asshole who abandons children and takes advantage of women just because he's "lovesick". No other man could ever compare, a week with him braindamaged and you forget all about the man you pined after for 5 years. Aerith is not compassionate to a man who blames himself for his failings and thinks he'd do more harm than good, she's compassionate to a piece of human filth who refuses to go save children because he doesn't care about them. She's not just a girl with a big destiny and a tragic fate, no, the universe itself resets to make sure she gets laid. Tifa isn't a powerful woman who devotedly supports the man she loves through his darkest hours, instead she's a weak unimportant doormat without self-respect who even in 2 decades could not measure up to a week with Aerith. Zacks connection with Cloud doesn't come with complex implications about Aeriths feelings, Zack never really mattered, his entire story of getting back to her? Doesn't matter, it only exists to show how much Aerith must love Cloud to choose him over Zack. The entire lifestream reveal concerning Cloud? Doesn't matter, nothing matters, it's in the past. The central reveal of the story isn't important because Clouds true self suddenly likes Aerith now.....good writing. etc, etc, etc. Where Aerith was once a part of an ensemble cast, the heroine of the external plot, tasked with saving the world through her powers as an ancient, while Tifa as the equally important heroine of the internal plot saves Clouds through their shared feelings, now everything instead revolves around Aerith, and the other characters only exist in service to her, not as characters in their own right, but only to make sure she and Cloud gets together, like every hated mary-sue in history. The pain of her death? Gone, the impact and nuance of the story? Gone. Literally everything that made FFVII special? Gone. And concerning the small, even the little details would no longer be coherent, Cetras thematically guide people to the promised land, note: "GUIDE", but now Aerith would suddenly be the promised land herself. The through-line of Cetras "returning to the planet"? Gone, if Aerith doesn't die that doesn't link to the story anymore at all. Tifa's bar being the 7th heaven, aka, the final heaven, aka, the promised land where Aerith guides Cloud to? Suddenly a meaningless name. Tifa's last name "lockhart" being a direct hint towards the "tender feelings locked up inside Clouds hart"? Completely trivial, the feelings weren't that important to the story. And I could go on for hours, every aspect of FFVII, from small to large, would be fundamentally poisoned if Cloud ends up with Aerith.

I could rewrite the story to make it work, but that's the point, then you'd be rewriting the story in order to diminish every other character and story in favor of Cloud and Aerith. Which brings us back to it becoming a horrible fan-fiction where no one and nothing matters except Cloud and Aerith. It's ok to write unimportant characters, it's not ok to make your important characters unimportant in retrospect in order to wank off another character. Thanks for asking.