#i hope that this goes without saying but dont like. track this person down in my notes and bother them
Note
soo not to get nsfw on the main… But with that being said… i‘ve just reread the latest chapter of it’s quicker and easier for the fourth time (somebody sedate me) and i just have some food for thought that is stuck to my mind‘s interior. SEE WHAT YOUVE DONE!! this fic is permanently tattooed onto my brain!!
like ok so i just think with all of marilyn’s prowess with potions and elixirs, she would surely have the knowledge to come up with some kind of,,, concoction that would allow her to gain a certain appendage (if u know what i’m talking about ;)). The next step then of course is fulfilling her and reader‘s fantasies of feeling her "come inside you and paint your walls with everything she is" with said appendage of marilyn’s. and woah what a line. whattt a line. a line that i personally feel should be interpreted as a prophecy of sorts that needs to be fulfilled immediately mhm mhm !
ok sorry but my point is it’s established marilyn has a breeding kink and yep, that definitely tracks. and reader has a 'consuming any part of marilyn she can like a pathetic eager puppy' kink, be it her blood, spit (👀 pls) or cum. i just think yknow if marilyn has the tools she is well within her right to use them to get herself her own cock and fuck her controversially younger girlfriend with it!!😌 when life gives you lemons, you use them to brew a cock-growing elixir for you and your gf to have fun with… i think that’s how the saying goes <3
anyways sorry for the long ask oops i didn’t mean for it to be this long. last sidepart and this is purely amused delusion but i find it so funny to imagine marilyn building this whole thing up and it happens and she and reader are very turned on and excited… only for marilyn to come in like 30 seconds. bc this is a whole new sensation for her obviously!!!! and even when she’s usually fucking reader without her cock, marilyn’s mostly the one giving and she’s not used to much direct stimulation without having reader come first!!! so then marilyn’s feeling mortified and reader is simultaneously understanding, horny, flattered and proud that she could make her lose control like that.
soo yeah that’s my food for thought on that ONE line from your fic that wouldn’t leave my head. a feast for thought would be more accurate. to make it explicit, i’d love to see something like this happen in the fic with marilyn and reader, or even a one-shot (or both!). that being said i get that it’s not for everyone so if ur not down then ofc don’t feel obliged to write anything ur not comfortable with <3 i was just kinda obsessing over the idea since reading chapter 18 and wanted to articulate my feral thoughts somewhere :p
rant ended for now, congratulations on exceeding 100K words!! that’s a super impressive feat for any author, never mind the fact that you didn’t think the fic would surpass 20K!! we’re super proud of you and blessed to have you as the author of this fic <33 take care and hope to read more soon!!!
okay the way this ask has NOT left my brain since reading it jesus christ!!!! HI??? ur so valid for this actually (also the fact that youve read the chap four times already is so sweet ty!!!! :') dont be sorry for being nsfw on main this sideblog is literally. MADE for that and for people to ask me things like this skdksd
okay. so i HAVE talked abt this on discord before w my beloved '<3' from ao3 and its so funny bc like. when we talk abt marilyn coming its always said with the knowledge that like 'oh of course she can come inside of reader using the strap/her cock. this is both physically possible and normal :)' skdksd so like the fact that youve sent this message is personal TO ME bc even tho i havent made it a thing in my fic yet i DO want to add a scene with either a cum filled strap on or, like you said, bc marilyn's so talented with elixir's/potions im SURE there is a concoction she can create that either a) allows her to feel her cum filled strap as if it was her own appendage AND acts like it or b) have her own cock. im more inclined with option A as it feels more realistic in my fic and would flow better i think within the confides of how ive written this story, and the fact that ive set up already that marilyn is really talented in potion making/plants and organic material. it would have to be slight magic using i guess?? (also realistic is a dumb word to use ik ksdkd like this is the world where vampires werewolves and gorgons exist. yet i just feel like strap would work better instead of her acquiring an actual cock)
btw ur 'when life gives you lemons,' comment made me lose it thank u so much for that. but yes! trust me when i say marilyn is constantlyyyy thinking abt possible ways she can make this a reality, it literally is a cause of frustration for marilyn that she cant give her girl what she wants and fill her up w her cum </3 its why she says it as a form of praise/degradation during 18 and 19 eg: "i wish i could cum in you" and "make you mine" bc like these freaks are so in love that the idea of breeding reader is succchhh a fulfilling fantasy, and visa versa. for reader its like 'i literally want all of you. ALL of you' like marilyn knows and LOVES how much reader is eager to please to take anything of marilyn's like you said, esp blood cum and spit (this idea is romantic to me. no further questions sdkskd) so yes tldr this IS an idea i really, really want to explore bc i can do so much with the idea of consuming your milf lover so much that you beg for their cum inside you/down your throat at all times <333
oh ur so real for marilyn not lasting comment. thats so 😵💫definitely the first time they try it marilyn's just so overwhelmed by feeling how warm and wet reader is (its a completely different sensation than feeling w her fingers/tongue) and how much reader is begging for it she just. comes immediately. does not know how to act and keeps filling reader up as much as she can (this does in fact send reader into suchhh a dumbed down headspace feeling it; like u have NO idea how much this is affecting her skdksd) but to me after the first time marilyn is just so focused on making reader the one who comes first every time, bc marilyn gets off on reader getting off and loves being the one to always give <33
i think im more inclined to add it into the fic! but thats not to say im ruling it out of requests/one shots. ur so okay omg ksdk the fact that u were obsessing over this makes me feel validated that me and '<3' arent the only ones who talk abt this concept like. all the time skdkd and wait AHHHHH GOD thank you so much!!!!🥰 thats genuinely so sweet and so uplifting for you to say, i hope you take care too and have an amazing day anon!! :')
#marilyn thornhill x reader#marilyn thornhill#marilyn thornhill x fem reader#wednesday netflix#laurel gates x reader#asks#reader fic#THIS GOT SO LONG ksdkdks sorry for talking abt marilyns cock on main but im incapable of being normal abt this fic <3
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COWBOY CARTERRRRR ★𐚁𓃗
this album is literally . everything omg like i've literally been going crazy over this album and it's not even been a week yet and i apologise for the babbling but i need to get some things off my chest or i will actually lose it so !!!! gonna yap about every single track now !!!!!! (some coherent thoughts, and some not so coherent thoughts) :
★★★★★
AMERIICAN REQUIREM - (im obsessed with all of the stylisation ii in the album titles bc its act ii) this song is basically a thesis statement for the whooooole album the main lyrical part is : 'used to say i spoke "too country" / and the rejection came, said / "i wasn't country enough" / said i wouldn't saddle up, but / if that ain't country, tell me what is? ' and obviously it goes without saying that the vocals on this track are PERFECT and angelic because, this is beyoncé she could never underdeliver. ive heard so many people say that the layering reminds them of bohemian rhapsody and I AGREEEE
after ameriican requirem, this section of the next fourish tracks reminded me of self titled (2014) in the sense that it explores the different aspects of beyoncé as a person (being a black woman, career, motherhood, self love etc) LOOKA DER LOOKA DER LALALALALALALALALALALAAAAAAAAA. THIS INTRO IS EVERYTHING TO ME ITS SO CINEMATIC AND BIG AND ★BEYONCÉ★
BLACKBIIRD - second song on here is a cover of blackbird by the beatles, featuring tanner adell, brittney spencer, tiera kennedy, and reyna roberts (all up and coming black country artists!!!!). i didn't know this until like, the day the album dropped and i was looking into it but blackbird was written by paul mccartney about black women in the 60s experiencing struggles with the american civil rights movement. and in england 'bird' is kinda slang for girl, so 'black bird' = 'black girl'. and that song was intended to bring hope, such a perfect track for this album , specially with the features beyoncé included 🤞🏽
16 CARRIAGES - my favourite out of the 2 pre release singles. its about her entering the music industry at 15 and the struggles due to that and growing up so fast, whenever this comes on i will NEVER EVER SKIP ITS TOOOOO GOOOD
PROTECTOR - i love how this is featuring rumi🥹 whenever beyonce talks about motherhood, or writes a song for her kids (like here, blue, bigger, brown skin girl etc) it always gets me tearing up on first listen. first of all i LOVEEEE a voice memo intro, and this whole lullaby is just <333333
MY ROSE - ive seen a lot of people saying that they dont like how this album is so long, but me personally, i love that there are so many tracks, even short ones like this that add depth or a vibe. also i love any song that says lalalalalalalalaaaa so that got me
SMOKE HOUR ★ WILLIE NELSON - IM OBSESSED W THIS INTERLUUUDEEEEEE the feel of changing the channel on a radio is so cool and adds a really fun atmosphere and really works well for themes here
TEXAS HOLD ‘EM - everyone hates this song BUT I DONTTTTT its a real life boogie and a real life hoe down frfr
BODYGUARD - this ones so fun and lighthearted, aside from the parts where shes like ‘i dont like the way shes looking at you 😒😒😒 someone better hold me back’ and that line leads so well into the next tracks:
DOLLY P / JOLENE - HAAHAHAHAHAHA THE DOLLY P INTERLUDE TOOK ME OUTTT WITH THE BECKY WITH THE GOOD HAIR REFERENCE😭 and the lyric changes on jolene with her warning becky instead of begging,, iktr !!!!!!! and ‘you a bird go on and sing your song jolene’ 😩 i really like that beyonce brought in dolly because shes like. THE country star. and its kinda wild that people are still dissing beyoncé for releasing country music and saying she doesn’t belong when the literal dolly parton is advocating for her
DAUGHTER - one of my faves on here, it feels so cinematic and i will always appreciate an i killed my husband country song. the whole vibe of this song is really sinister im obsessed and the visuals are already there in my mind like,, ‘your body laid out on these filthy floors / your bloodstains on my custom coutures’, ‘so let's travel to white chapels and sing hymns /
hold rosaries, and sing in stained glass symphonies’ , ‘i sashayed my dress / did my best impression of a damsel in distress’ , etc etc etc. i would literally quote this entire song if i could i think its lyrically the best one. my favourite part is the refrain about her father and choir boys and the titanic its so real. AND VOCALLLSSS HELLOOOO????? SHE JUST . CASUALLY SINGS CARO MIO BEN??????? oh beyoncé the woman you are whoooo is doing it like you
SPAGHETTI - as soon as i saw this title i knew this song was gonna be fun like first of all, the intro talking about genres being restricting, and then the song going straight into that instrumental???????? AND SHES RAPPING ?????????????? THANOS ????????? CUNTY COUNTRY PETTY !!!!!!!!!! YALL BEEN PLAYED BY THE PLAGARISTIC WHEWWWW NO SAUCE NO SAUCE
ALLIGATOR TEARS - the jump from spaghetti to this was so violent 😩 i had to calm myself down so fast on first listen LMAOOOO. ok so from what i can tell i think this song is saying that she’ll do anything for x (idk who this is to, maybe jay z?) and x doesn’t need any fake tears to get her to do things for them bc she’ll do anything for them regardless. ‘you say change religion 🕺🏽
now i spend sundays with you’
SMOKE HOUR II / JUST FOR FUN- oh my god i so badly want KNTRY radio to be real😭 just for fun feels so nostalgic to me for some reason, and so does ii most wanted tbh but i’ll get to that. i think that willie jones’ voice works SO well with beyoncés, they both sing so softly on here and its like the type of ballad you’d sing around a campfire all happy and sleepy
II MOST WANTED - as someone who never watched hannah montana as a kid, i still really appreciate this song, i know a few songs from that song even though i never watched it so miley’s voice reminds me of my childhood soo much and this song omg🥹🥹🥹🥹 the harmonies and the lyrics and the friendship <333333 the electric guitar specifically stands out to me it reminds me of something but i can’t quite put my finger on it?
LEVII’S JEANS - I DIDNT KNOW THAT POST MALONE COULD SING LIKE THAT ?????? WHAT ? i literally live in england but whenever this song comes on suddenly im line dancing and i am wearing my metaphorical cowboy hat ,,.,,, denim 🕺🏽on 💃🏽denim🕺🏽on denim🕺🏽on 💃🏽denim AND HE SAID YOURE MY RENESSAINCE !!!!!!!! RENEIGH IS BACK IN EMPLOYMENT
FLAMENCO - i NEED a longer version of this song desperately 😭 right about NOW😔 its another nostalgic sounding one
THE LINDA MARTELL SHOW / YA YA - ADDICTED TO THIS SONG WITH THE BEYONCÉ COWBOY CARTER ACT II RODEO INTRO W HER DOING THE DIFFERENT VOICES !!!!!!!!! WE SHAKIN !!!!!!! WE SWIMMIN !!!!!!!!!!!! WE JERKIN !!!!!!!!!!! WE TWEKING !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM A SUCKER FOR SAMPLES AND SHE SAMPLES 2 SONGS HERE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND SHE SAID SWEAT OUT THE SHEETS LIKE DRUNK IN LOVE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED TO HEAR THIS LIVE excuse my excitement but this song is THAT GOOD AND THEN THE TRANSITION INTO OH LOUISIANA IS CHEFFS KISS
OH LOUSIANA - perfect sample!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO MY ‼️ DADDY ALABAMA ‼️ MOMMA !!!!!!!! LOUISIANA !!!!!!!!!!
DESERT EAGLE - when the eagle sound came on i was so happy i was waiting for that sound this whole album😩 RAAAHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅
RIIVERDANCE - this one was stuck in my head for the LONGEST TIME. i need more love for this song, BOUNCE ON THA T SHII DANCE DANCE !!!!! NO HANDS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM A LESBIAN BUT IDC IM TURNING THIS UPPPPPP !!!!!! BOUNCE ON THAT SHIIII DANCE DANCE RUNNING THRU THE RIVERRRR RUNNING THRROUGH THE RIVER WITH YOUU BOUNCE ON THAT SHI DANCE DANCE
II HANDS II HEAVEN - icl when this is playing i still have riiverdance lyrics repeating in my head because the transition is so smooth and the tempo stays the same i LOVEEEEE IT. dont juddgeeee me baby you would never juuudege me baby !!!!!! stallion running no candle in the wind !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this whole post is gonna be so incoherent and im not rereading this sorry to anyone still reading 😭 im just listening and vibing tbh i’m on day 6 of looping this album and im losing my mind, also this song is so sleepy in a really good way and then im woken up byyyyyy TYRANT
TYRANT - I LOVE DOLLYS VOICE IN THE INTRO !!!! AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THE COUNTRY TRAP !!!!!!! THANK YOU COWBOY CARTER FOR GIVING ME THIS !!!!!!!!! and i always appreciate a becky with the good hair mention !!! TOP 5 ON THIS ALBUM FOR SUREEEE also is ‘on the run run’ a part ii on the run reference??? bc that’s so perfect considering theres so many ‘ii’ references on here ALSO i love the higher singing on the outro and on the one by one you hang them high line
SWEET ★ HONEY ★ BUCKIIN’ - ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ MY FAVOURITE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ ON THIS ALBUM !!!!!!!! DARE I SAY… I LIKE THIS MORE THAN PURE / HONEY !!!!!!!! I LOVE A MULTIPLE PART SONG !!!!!!! THE SWEET SECTION IS SO FUN TO DANCE TO AND THE HONEY PART IS MY FAVOTUITE PART OF THIS ALBUM AND THE BUCKIIN PART IS 10000/10 BUCKIIN BUCKIIN BUCKIIIN WOAHHHHHHH also also doesn’t ‘pretty as hell, au naturel , dinin' on farce’ melodically remind you of ‘all my pretty girls to the floor’ from pure/ honey????
AMEN - feelin like im at church again, and it repeats parts of american requirem 😩 i love a tie in omg this album is already such a classic AOTY PLEASE
★★★★★
overall, i think that this is simply the greatest thing to ever grace my ears. i dont think ive ever seen an album with so much thought, care and research put into it, and beyoncé is truly an albums artist and i really really really admire the work she puts into this. since i was really young i really loved her and watching her music videos (watching the self titled music videos at 8 years old is such a core memory for me LOLLL) so every album release is so special to me, and i feel so well fed w this album and i am so intrigued about what’s coming for act iii!!!!!! sorry again for all this talking, this was the cut down version of my thoughts ☠️
overall faves as of right now : sweet honey buckiin, daughter, ya ya, tyrant
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I want to join in the ranking fun so, if you feel like it: acotar characters on a hike?
17. Amren- DID NOT GO
16. Nesta- ALSO DID NOT GO
15- Mor- HIKE???? No thanks.
14.- Feyre- brings a giant pack of her art supplies, sets up in the first nice valley and begins to paint. Yes, paint. Just wants to capture the moment, to soak in the beauty of nature.
13. Rhys- brought a golf cart, wearing open-toed shoes. "What do you mean we're not golfing?" Ends up banned by park service for taking a golf cart up a protected trail, waits in parking lot doing wheelies
12. Tarquin- SO HUMID. Prefers a dry heat, will not stop talking about it. Wants to know if they're ever going to swim, bails early when he realizes the journey is just the walk. NO THANK YOU
11. Gwyn- Two miles max, did not wear adequate shoes. Brought a book tucked beneath her arm to identify plants and birds but forgot water. Identifies zero birds, gets 100 mosquito bites.
10. Jurian- Does not understand point of a hike. Declares the view is not even that good. VISIBLY sunburned a third of the way up, refuses to put on sunscreen. Constantly asking if they're there yet.
9. Helion- Definitely thought there would be more drinking involved. Goes in 70's style shorts so everyone knows how muscular his thighs are. Isn't there for the right reasons. Lots of passerby's distracted when he takes off his shirt. Everyone annoyed by his in person thirst trapping.
8. Azriel- athletic but this is not his preferred form of absorbing vitamin D. Teased the whole time about how much black he wore. Doesn't want to scuff brand new shoes, has one of those backpacks you can slurp water from with a straw, refuses to share.
7. Vassa- Came with the hopes everyone was camping. Hiking with an ARSENAL of gear on her back. Exhausted half way through and FURIOUS when she realizes everyone is done at mile five
6. Emerie- Hiking goddess. Came to snap pictures and she looks good doing it. Long leggings and socks despite heat, does not seem to notice. Carrying on conversation despite ninety degree incline.
5. Eris- brought ALL his dogs. Tangled leashes EVERYWHERE. People constantly asking to pet, of course he says NO. DONT TOUCH THEM. Dogs desperately want to be pet. Carrying around way too many bags of dog poop, is grumpy about it. So worried about keeping dogs from escaping, forgets sunscreen.
4. Elain- Points out all the plants along the way, taking pictures carefully to catalogue. WAY at the back of the group, constantly having to jog to catch up. Came to soak up nature, not to get so sweaty. Wore a too floppy hat she loses in the wind at the very top, forced to go back down without it.
3. Tamlin- Wants to hike in SILENCE. Brought headphones, defeating the purpose of a group hike. So loud EVERYONE can hear. "Is that Call Me Maybe?" Tamlin pretends he didn't hear.
2. Cassian- BRUTAL PACE. PRACTICALLY RUNNING. OH MY GOD WHAT IS YOUR RUSH??? The rush is to beat the crowd and to punish ourselves for our many crimes against God. Cassian avoids being murdered that day...but just barely.
1. Lucien- Off grid hiking, tracking through woods like a bloodhound. Group? What group? They find him halfway back lounging against a tree looking unbothered. Made it to the top hours ago, just waiting now. There is a shortcut, he claims, pointing to vertical incline nicknamed "SUICIDE CLIMB" Looks like it needs equipment to get up, he claims he used his hands. Perfect ponytail.
#once again#this is objectively correct#as always i have the only right opinion on these characters and how they would behave on a hike#you know im right
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The Middle
Pairing: fem!reader + boyfriend!idol!hyunjin
Genre: angst, breakup, hope+comfort
Song by: Zedd, Maren Morris, and Grey
Plot: When love eventually comes to an end, you find yourself constantly wanting to go back in time.. to the middle.
A/N: the song cover for this song looked just like the hyunjin arts he likes to paint
Description: Time goes by too fast. It is a foe that takes away youth, memory, and childhood. It brings regret and pain.
"Why don't you just meet me in the middle?"
DO NOT COPY WORK.
Take a seat, right over there, sat on the stairs
Stay or leave
You crumble to the floor, clutching onto your chest. The note that was once placed neatly in your room is now struggling to breathe inside of your tight fist.
I know we meant all good intentions...
But I feel like we are both continuing to drown in so much pressure and worry right now. We try to help each other, I know, but neither of us are feeling any better.
I'm sorry. You dont deserve someone like me.
You deserve to be happy and meet a person who will spend time with you every single day without leaving you in the middle of a movie because of dance practice or abandoning you at a park for a musicvideo filming.
I hope this letter will mark the end of our relationship but also a new beginning for you.
- 현진이♡
◇
Ever since you broke up with your boyfriend, you've never felt so lost, cold, and empty.
◇
You first met Hyunjin at an art museum. The two of you started talking as you both walked through the galleries and exhibits together.
He was wearing a mask and a hoodie so you had not the slightest idea it couldve been an idol - and it had to be Hyunjin too.
Sooner or later Hyunjin revealed himself and you were shocked.
But then things cooled down and you started dating.
Once or twice, you would see a camera go click or a phone tracking your every move through a video.
But you didn't mind. You had Hyunjin.
Everything you ever needed was Hyunjin.
All except that he left you.
I can't just let you go
And so here you are, in the same museum you first met the love of your life.
At the beginning everything was so clear, so beautifully intact.
Now all you can see is fog, mist, and terror crouching by every corner you turn.
You were stuck. With no way out.
You were scared.
Every single day, you would find yourself circling around the museum.
Day by day,
Week by week,
Month by month,
Hoping to pass by a person who might as well will never set foot in this country again.
Why was life so cruel?! Did it have to take every single happiness away from you?
Hyunjin, not even a text, left for another fucking tour and will not be coming back.
When someone says that their heart is broken, you have never really felt the true meaning of this phrase.
But now you do.
Your heart beats, aches, and hurts every single second for whom you loved most, the only person who has ever loved you back.
And now this story was coming to an end as well.
Now, you just want to go back to the middle of everything.
The period of time when you didn't know who Hyunjin exactly was but knew that he was the one for you.
When love wasnt a thing between you two but your heart pounded and hammered in your chest at the sight of him.
When the unfamiliar emotions of love started to blossom in your heart but you were both too shy to admit.
When the innocent confession of liking was revealed and love was introduced as a possible route forward.
The middle.
Oh, baby, why don't you just meet me in the middle?
Nothing more. Nothing less.
I'm losing my mind just a little
When you didn't know anything but knew everything.
Why don't you just meet me in the middle?
The middle of a moment in time when you and Hyunjin, hand in hand, would smile without a trace of worry or doubt.
A pause in time.. a picture film in the sunset.
In the middle.
◇
The spring leaves of your breakup smithers away and autumn fall emerges.
You take your daily evening stroll through the same museum once again.
It was still beautiful, no matter how many times you step in and out of the building. It always felt so different every time.
But this time.. you see a new painting has arrived and was hung on the wall during the weekend.
You quickly walk over to take a glance when you recognize your face is mirrored against the wall.
On the description, it read,
To my first and last love - I am coming soon.
It was definitely you in that painting..
And that art style.. could be of no one but Hyunjin's.
How could you not recognize it?
The face expressions, the quality, the paint brush techniques, the strokes - they were all so familiar to you.
Hope and panic starts to rise in your chest.
You should not be hopeful, you should not be expecting.
But here you are, twirling around and around to see if Hyunjin was anywhere.
But no, you do not see anyone.
You are alone...
Until you feel a warm body wrapping behind you into a hug so big it traps you and flushes all of your sadness and pain from your soul.
You recognize the hoodie surrounding you.. the scent.
It was the one he wrapped around your shoulders when you were cold...
It was the one he pulled over your head in your once-shared bedroom in intimate silence...
He made everything seem possible even through your darkest days.
Hyunjin
So baby
You wish you can just forget about all the things that have hurt you for the past few years..
Why don't you just meet me in the middle?
But humans cannot do that. They plan, calculate, hesitate, look back into the past, and retreat their footsteps.
I'm losing my mind just a little
Can't we go back in time?
You spin around.
Can't we go back in time?
To the middle?
When everything was fine..
When everything was beautiful...
But the face in front of you says otherwise. Through his eyes, you can see the brightest constellations tracing his every thought and every gesture.
And in those thoughts and gestures, you can see the promising image of the two of you, eventually together in a warm, loving, and eternal embrace.
Him smiling in comfort and in final peace, stroking your hair and rubbing your back.
You gazing up at him in admiration and more love than you can ever imagine someone can depict through just a glance.
The images flicker in front of your eyes and now you see an older form of you and Hyunjin who stands facing the exact same painting in front of you even after many many years.
His hand momentarily leaves yours and gently reaches for your chin. Tilting your head up a slight bit to meet his eyes with yours, the man of your life stares at you with so much kindness, care, beauty, and love.
Then, just like the painting that stands permanently engraved into your memory, Hyunjin leans forward and connects his lips with yours.
Dating an idol might be challenging..
It breaks your heart, mends it, and will shatter it back into pieces numerously again and again and again...
But you decide that you don't want anything more right now than the man in front of you.
You didn't need to go back in time to the middle in order to reach your happiness,
Happiness is inside of you, inside of Hyunjin, inside of all of us,
And it will keep continuing to grow and spread
continuously, contagiously, and endlessly.
Love is eternal.
One other is all it takes to open up the barrier and let the light shine through
To know love,
To feel loved,
And share love.
◇
Check out masterlist for more.
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! THANKS FOR READING!
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Me: One of the most important scenes I still need to write for SK is the opening to Ep 6, where Kim tracks down her mom and visits her. Kim says to her mom that she forgives her for the neglect. Kim's mom says that she has nothing to apologize for; she did the best she could as a single parent living paycheck to paycheck. It's an uncomfortable conversation, and the reconciliation goes nothing like Kim had hoped it would, but the point is that if she can let go of the anger at her mother, Kim can let go of her own self-loathing.
It's not explained until 3 episodes later, but this was the moment Kim decided that if she still had time, she wanted a daughter of her own. That even if she can't give her kid a much better childhood than she herself had... her childhood wasn't ALL BAD; maybe there's enough to be worth passing on.
I'm very interested in how Kim's psychological baggage shapes her decisions, and getting more in-touch with her maternal side would be an interesting character study.
Friend: It sure would be a way to take her out of her usual context, as you said being a career focused woman. Would you go with her trying to balance her pregnancy, and eventual... Motherly duties with her career or she would need to leave her career on hold (I dont think she would do this, but you know, just to spin something) and trying not to resent the baby and/or eventually Jimmy himself for "putting" her on that situation? I may be asking something thats already on the fanfic jsjsjs now that I think about it
Me: In my original "Sheepdog" fanfic, there was more exploration of the idea that Kim doesn't really want this baby and how a surprise pregnancy triggers an existential crisis. But that prediction for Season 6 never came true, so "Sheepdog" was just a nightmare Kim had.
"Slippin Kimmy" which is my new story, picks up six years after the events of BCS season 6. So in this timeline, Kim has already been disbarred because of what she did to Howard. Her career is already ruined, so she might as well settle down at this point. Kim is still trying to help poor people, especially homeless women, but without a license to practice, Kim's boss recommends that she shift her focus to lobbying. Eventually, this leads Kim to fall in with a group of progressive evangelicals, and the Church is able to get Jimmy released on house arrest after only six years of his sentence. Impatient to make up for lost time, they get remarried and start trying for a kid.
So to answer your question... Kim's not a lawyer anymore, but she still has a career as an activist. They are able to lie low and just bask in the domestic bliss for nine months, but once Iris is born, the plan is for Kim to go back to work while Jimmy is more than happy to just be a stay-at-home-dad; he's tired and frankly a little agoraphobic at this point. Saving the world is his wife's job now; Jimmy just wants to stay out of trouble.
The joke is that between 2010 and 2016, Kim was still just trying to be a decent, quiet person volunteering in Florida. But after the election, she sort of SNAPPED. Gave up trying to be a moral person when clearly nobody else has been trying, and went back to doing the things that make her happy: chicanery and her jailbird ex. She didn't want to bring a kid like them into this world, when neither she nor Jimmy could ever function comfortably in polite society. But if the country is teetering on the brink of anarchy... actually maybe this is the perfect time to pollute the genepool.
There's definitely a sort of feralness with how I write her: she still tries to solve problems rationally, but she's learned to sometimes just act on instinct. The LAW has no interest in keeping her alive; her nerves and muscles are the only commands she can trust.
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fast cartoons are the easiest for me to do without a clear goal in mind. to be honest, being able to make myself laugh when i look back through a sketchbook is a lot more important to me than “proper” drawing, so quick cartoons with interesting context or dialogue make up the bulk of my work. it’s satisfying to put more time into a piece sometimes, but it does require a different mindset, and one that i’m less likely to be in on any given day, especially if i’m busy. it’s much easier to get frustrated with planned and drafted pieces.
i’m glad that many of the styles i put out on this blog are well-received! i’m glad that you see this as range in my art! but my “scribble” cartoons are the most fun and accessible to me on a regular basis, and i’m proud of them. i don’t put anything up on this blog that i wasn’t at least a little proud of when i made it, even if all i was proud of was the dialogue. i guess what i want you to take away from this is that i’m frustrated with the language of “just little scribbles” and “proper” art, even if you’re kind of poking fun at yourself while you say it.
you can find more planned and cleaned-up klapollo art that i’ve done recently here (which is the most stylistically similar to what i just posted) and here. i don’t know whether you’re interested in the more structured art in general, or the very cleaned-up digital look. if you’re just interested in the more structured stuff, like the second image set i linked, you can find it by browsing through my klapollo tag. i don’t tend to do very cleaned-up digital work often because, historically, it doesn’t actually get that much attention on the blog. this doesn’t mean it isn’t worth doing, but it means that it has to be a project that i’m willing to commit that much time to for myself.
the six-shooter piece didn’t get nearly as much attention as some of my quick-and-rough cartoons have. i was incredibly proud of it at the time, so that kind of sucked. but i hadn’t done it to get validated on the internet; i had done it because i had imagined the image composition and i thought “that’s fun, i want to make that real.” part of the reason i’ve been updating this blog much, much more frequently than i used to lately is that i’ve reached the point where i draw what i want for me, and if i think other people might like something i post it, but if they don’t--disappointing, but i’m still happy to have made it. the oocc + aa series of cartoons is completely self-indulgent. some of them are really well-received, some of them aren’t. but they make me really happy to draw, so i keep investing the time in them.
i want to be really clear that this isn’t personal, and i’m not sitting here going “man, this jerk doesn’t respect me or the effort involved in art,” but you’ve stumbled across a pet peeve of mine. very clean digital work is usually a solid time investment for me. as it says in the caption, i spent at least three hours on the fluri picture. i don’t remember how much time i spent on the six-shooter piece, but i’d definitely guess upwards of five hours. just about everything i post is something that i’ve made for myself in my free time, and i’m happy to share them with you at no cost. i’m thrilled that people enjoy them. sometimes in the tags or the replies, people will have comments or ideas that i like enough to explore more, and that’s great! but it’s much more likely to be as a quick cartoon than a carefully planned and refined piece. high-effort, clean digital work is, for me, a bigger commitment to make for a little bit of validation on the internet that isn’t even a guarantee. does this mean i’m never going to post refined digital works? of course not. i’ll throw them into the mix sometimes just like i have been.
tl;dr- you’re always going to see a lot more cartoons than extremely clean pieces from me. this is because i’m an amateur artist producing content for free. you can find some cleaner pieces for klavier and apollo in the tags on my blog. i think all of my tags should be pretty straightforward, although i would be happy to clarify or point you in the right direction.
i get some really nice comments on my work, and i really, really appreciate that. you guys make my day a little brighter. this isn’t a cry for validation. but i’ve been gaining followers at a baffling rate recently, and i wanted to establish some boundaries. sorry you happened to be the one to catch my attention!
to be completely honest, i wouldn’t be comfortable producing high-effort work on request + for free on a regular basis even if i could, because i don’t want to undermine professional artists. my peers deserve to have their professional time and commitments respected. if there’s a lot of interest, i could get ko-fi and/or patreon going, and i would be more than happy to compensate people for their support with some cleaner pieces. i have a vague idea of how i would set up my price scale for commissions, but again, i would need to know there was interest if i was going to go through the work of setting that up.
#i hope that this goes without saying but dont like. track this person down in my notes and bother them#i dont even know if i have the following for that sort of thing but id rather not find out#choc talks#not art
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Demure
Wc: 4k
Pairing: eren jaeger x reader
Cw: car sex, fingering, emphasis on reader being innocent and a virgin. reader is armins little sister. corruption kink
you're 6 years old when you first meet eren jaeger. apparently he'd run off some people that were bullying you big brother, armin. you admire him and mikasa immediately.
you're 8 and he's 11 when you get a scrape on your knee from playing tag. eren runs into your mothers bathroom to fish out the first aid-kit, you know he just doesn't want you to tattle, you never would anyway, but he pulls out a pink band-aid with little ariels all over it and places it gently over the cut. he stays there for a few beats, soothing the skin around the hurt area with his thumbs. his big bright green eyes look up at you, "better?" and that's the first time your heart skips for a boy.
you're 11 and he's 14 when armin starts becoming protective. "he's had like. 5 girlfriends in middle school, who knows what he's gonna be like in high-school"
it intrigue you, for some reason.
you're 13 and he's 16 when he taps furiously on your window at night, wild eyed and wearing a t-shirt and sweats. he falls ungracefully on his ass when you let him in, though he grins at you from the floor. "thanks, squirt"
you wince at the nickname, knowing it solidifies you as someone only platonic to him. armins little sister and nothing more. "what's this all about?"
he gets up and swipes imaginary dust off his sweats, looking around your room. its absurdly girly. he picks up one of your plushies and tosses it up, then catches it, peering over at you and grinning. "i hope you never change," he sighs and flops down onto your pink sheets. "girls my age are fucking psychos"
you creep closer to him, snatching your plush back. "im sure there's something you're leaving out there. im not completely dumb, you know"
he waves his hand, "yeah but you're....i don't know? innocent or whatever. you don't care about shit like boys and drama"
i do care about boys, you think, watching the way his shirt rides up to expose a hint of tan skin. you look away, squeezing your plush to your chest. "im gonna grow up eventually, ren"
he sighs and sits up, looking at you from under his ridiculously cute floppy brown hair. "Just promise me you won't go boy crazy"
you roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he leans in and licks a broad stripe against your cheek with his tongue, grinning "we have cooties"
you swat at him and wipe your cheek, groaning and calling him gross. "i know that. you and armin never let me forget how gross boys are", you side eye him. "what did you even do? really?"
he looks to the side, only now having it in him to look the least bit sheepish, "my girlfriend may have caught me with my hand down historias skirt..."
"EREN JAEGER!!!"
yeah, boys really are gross. but not eren, no he's beautiful and magical and makes you feel all the fluttery things. but he's also a player, a bad boy, dangerous and completely off limits. maybe your crush should have ended there, but of course it didn't.
You're 15 when you go on your first date with a boy. until now you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about men outside of the enigma that is eren jaeger, but that’s a lost cause, a stupid crush you need to let go of. and despite what eren thinks, you’re not that innocent. not in your head anyway. you’re a girl and you have fantasies.
the guy is nice, armin likes him enough. big and tall and humble, reiner brought you flowers for your first date. the age difference is a little weird, he’s in erens grade, a senior, but you think its harmless. you’re turning 16 soon. the date goes well, you smile and giggle alot, and reiner seems smitten by the end of it. he even goes as far as to kiss your hand when he drops you back off at home, at 8pm sharp, just like he promised. he was kind and sweet, and you liked him, but you wonder what it means that there were no flutters in your belly, not like when you’re around him…
you’re still thinking about that when you open the door, and walk inside. the house is quiet, and you wonder where armin is, and eren. thinking they both must be in armins room, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping on your path there when you see eren on the couch. he’s lounging back, hand idly wrapped around a gaming controller as he watches you.
you glance around him. “where’s mimmin?”
he doesn’t take his eyes off you. “annie called”, he leans forward a little, propping his chin in his palm as he observes you quietly for a moment.
you squirm in place, his eyes are too hot. “oh” and you make to start moving again but his voice stops you.
“so. braun, huh?” his tone is hard to discern, the words coming out cool and detached, but his eyes are that intense green.
“yeah” you say, shifting on your feet. “he was nice. kissed my hand and everything”
“sounds like a dream” and that is definitely said sarcastically. you bristle but eren is already turning away from you, facing the TV. “didn’t think he was your type though”
because erens been your type since forever, you guess he’s right. reiner couldn’t be more different in both personality and looks, but maybe that’s a good thing. “maybe he can be” you say softly, looking at your feet. you dont see erens eyebrows jump, or his lips twist disdainfully.
“If you wanna settle for missionary the rest of your life, then sure, go ahead” he sounds a little miffed and that confuses you. makes you look up. you don’t even know reiner that well, but you feel the need to defend him from erens usual snarky jabs.
“not every guy that doesn’t live on Xbox and fuck half the school is a bland guy” you huff. you feel a little guilty for calling him out but he started it. eren hated preps, that was obvious, but its not like he was a model person either, if his long track record of promiscuity was anything to go by. reiner wasnt boring he just…..wasn’t eren. but that wasn’t a flaw. It shouldn’t be.
“you been keeping tabs on me, princess?” eren asks wryly, smirking now. you just glare at him, quirking a brow and daring him to prove you wrong, to say he’s better.
he doesn’t. he just looks at you, sets his controller down and does that tick he’d developed since he was young of jiggling his knee, tapping his finger on it. “don’t go on more dates with him”
you squint your eyes, “and why not?”
“because i said so”
“you’re not my boss”
“because..” he scratches the stubble on his jaw, gaze looking far off as he stares at his bouncing leg. “guys shouldn't touch you”
your mouth pops open. you get that, right now, you’re too young for stuff like sex, but being touched? everyone your age had boyfriends, why should you be any different?
It feels a bit like deja vu when you tell him, “m’not staying innocent forever. dating and s-sex are apart of life. you do it, why shouldn’t i?”
you didn’t really get his whole overprotective bit, armin, who was your brother, wasn’t even this bad. he’d seen happy almost, when you told him about your date with reiner, even, so you really don’t see where eren is coming from.
erens lip curls in a smirk and he points a finger at you. “that’s why” he says. “you can’t even say the word sex without stuttering. what’ll you do when you see a cock for the first time?”
your skin heats, hating that he’s right. “I’ll grow out of it” you promise him.
he huffs a laugh. “sure thing, dork” but then his face gets serious. “you don’t need to change though. sex is lame, i promise.”
“you seem to have alot of it, so there must be something good about it”
“for me, yeah” he grins. “but im selfish. most men are, and you deserve better than some highschool tumble with a guy who looks like he can’t find the clit to save his life” his eyes weigh you down. “just keep bein’ you. If i come back from college and hear that you’re the towns tramp stamp, m’ not gonna be happy”
and that’s that.
you’re 16 when eren leaves for college. you get to 18 without ever being touched.
you’re 18 and you wish you hadn’t begged armin to let you come to this stupid bomfire party. it’s just the first time he’s been home in the 2 years since he’d left for college, and you know that means eren is back too, though you have yet to see him. he’s supposed to be at the party though.
you wonder if he’ll react to having seen you after not for awhile, if he’ll look at you different now that you’re grown. you’re wearing a simple pleated white skirt and a pink top, the picture of innocence you’ve always been, never changing.
being around so many people makes you uncomfortable, you want to cling to armins side, but you don’t want to be annoying so you tell him its okay to leave you. your eyes scan the mass of people on the crowded beach as you nervously hold your solo cup to your chest.
your eyes stop their nervous skittering when they land on someone familiar.
college eren is completely different and yet wholly the same since you’d last seen him. he’s wearing a red bomber jacket, over a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, scuffed converse kicking in the sand as he shifts from one foot to the other. you peep tan skin, a hint of a tattoo peeking on his neck and….and black hair. he’d dyed his hair, and, is that jewelry on his ear? rings on his hand?
he’s smiling easily with a pretty blonde and...and reiner. talking to them like old friends as he tilts his head back and laughs, taking a swig from his cup. he’s still chuckling and shaking his head when his eyes flick distractedly over, rove over you and then stop. even from all the way where you are the green of his eyes pins you in place. the warm glow of the bonfire dances across his features, and you see the bastard has a lip ring as well. he takes his time cataloging you and you do him, before his lips tilt, he hands off his drink and he makes his way over to you.
your whole body is tense with nerves as he gets closer and closer.
when he’s standing in front of you, the smell of his cologne wafts over you. his smile is small and genuine. “hey, pip”
pip as in short for pipsqueak. you have to fight the urge to grin at him, your cheeks warming pleasantly, even though you groan out loud. “m’ not little anymore”
“I can see that” eren eyes rake over you, linger on your bare legs before dragging slowly back up. his eyes feel like a caress and when they meet yours again, you’re already tingly. you’ve never been touched sexually, and just one look from eren has you wet between the legs like nothing. “still dress like you wanna be an extra in a Bratz commercial”
the tension disputes as you swat his arm. “shut up!! Its a fashion choice, not like you’d know. dressed like a wannabe rockstar”
“aw, c’mon. you’d be my groupie right?”
you roll your eyes. “you wish, jaeger”
“mm” he hums softly. “s’cute though. always has been”
before you can even register the compliment, he’s leaning forward to peek into your cup, swiping it easily from you. “underage drinking, are we? left you for a couple years and you go rebel barbie on me”
you squawk as he chugs all of your drink back in one gulp, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. “ren! I wasn’t even drinking it. It was..” you wave your hand around. “for the aesthetic”
“uh huh” he drones, but then he jerks his chin. “i’ll get you another one to stand around and look pretty with then. C’mon”
cute, pretty. the compliments are gonna make your heart fly out of your chest if he doesn’t let up. you follow him as he leads you to a keg, one that’s a little ways away from the bustle of the party, close to the parking lot where you came in.
you shyly say ‘thank you’ when he fills you a cup and hands it to you, proceeding to lean back against a car as he goes back to observing you.
to distract yourself you mumble, “you can’t just lean on a strangers car for the sake of being cool”
the grin is back. “you think im cool?” when you glare at him he rolls his eyes and slaps the hood of the car. “she’s mine, pip. you can untwist your panties”
you blink at him, “since when did you get a new car? and when did you dye your hair?”
he looks at you curiously, drumming his fingers. “do you not, like. follow me on instagram?”
you look away, kicking your feet in the sand. hesitantly you admit, “didn’t wanna miss you, so i didn’t look”
he doesn’t say anything to that. the silence stretches between you, making you nervous. should you not have said that? you guessed it was weird, after all, but it was true. If you’d looked at how erens life was progressing without you there to see it, you’d have cried and been a total lovesick girl about it.
he finally breaks the silence. “do you have a boyfriend?”
you look back at him. “uh...no? do you?”
the smirk you wanted ghosts over his lips again, and your eyes are drawn to his lip ring when he tugs it between his teeth. “nah, you know me. unattainable”
“yeah, i know” you say under your breath, thinking of how eren jaeger had been an unattainable fantasy for you for years.
“so no current boyfriend or…?”
“no boyfriends...ever” its embarrassing to admit, but less humiliating than admitting that the reason that was is because you’re in love with your brothers best friend, the very man standing before you now.
“that’s kinda tragic, pip” eren hops up on the hood of his car and fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. he waves a hand at you, “you’re rockin’ a bod like that and no one’s bagged you? thought you’d be beating down options with a bat by now”
you watch the smoke that plumes in the air, the way it coils and wisps, and really look at eren. he’s tragically beautiful. his no black hair is boyishly messy, tangled around his head in a dark halo. his face is sharp and tan, his eyes striking and making you feel like you’re sinking into the sand beneath your feet.
you’ve wanted him for so long, it makes you ache. years and years of pushing away men and declining confessions for this man in front of you. you’d never expected anything from him, but you couldn’t move past the fantasy in your head. couldn’t imagine giving any of your firsts to anyone but eren.
“you told me to stay innocent” its out before you can stop the words, they just fumble out, spilling from your lips and into the air like the smoke.
eren stills, pauses from where he’d been about to take another drag. his expression is unreadable. he flicks the ashes from the cig on the sand, stumps it out under his foot as he hops down. the wind ruffles his dark hair as he just looks and looks and looks at you.
“yeah?” and oh, jesus, if the rough gravel in his voice doesn’t make your cunt warm immediately. “and you listened?”
you squeeze your thighs together, an action that draws erens gaze between your legs. to late to back down now, you think, and wet your lips. “y-yeah. I did”
“you didn’t let any boys touch you while i was gone?” eren continues and he draws closer, creeping towards you.
you shake your head, silent as he comes in front of you. he reaches up to delicately push a strand of hair behind you ear with one of his ring fingers. he keeps it tucked behind your ear as he towers over you, staring you down. “you’re still my innocent little girl, huh?”
you wonder if this is how it feels to be seduced, seduced by eren jaeger no less. his eyes are warm, and they make you feel warm from where the rest on your eyes, and then, your lips. they part under his gaze, on instinct. “I am, ren. always have been”
his eyes darken, and the finger behind your ear becomes his whole hand sliding to cup the back of your head, slowly fisitng your hair in it. “shit” he tilts your head up. “you can’t say things like that, baby”
baby, baby, baby. your head swims. you’re on autopilot now, speaking without thinking and you think that’s good because if you were thinking clearly you wouldn't have the courage. “i’ve always been your good girl. no one elses”
you have one second to hear his exhale before his lips are crashing against yours, and oh. oh, he’s good. you feel the metal of his lip ring against your bottom lip as he slides his tongue in your mouth, eating you up.
“god, you’re sweet” he nips your lip. “knew you would be”
you pant into his mouth, your hands curling on his chest, “y-you’ve thought about me?”
“‘course i did, im not blind” he pulls away. “I just really like my dick and didn’t want it chopped off. armin is scary”
you know he can be when he wants to be, knows if he saw eren ravishing his little sister against his car right now, body parts would be strewn about. and that’s just from armins verbal warfare.
you look at eren demurely from under your lashes, “i don’t want anything to happen to your…” you trail off at the end.
erens eyebrows climb up his forehead, he presses close to you, tugs you to him. “my…” he prods, eyes glinting with mischief.
you look away, pouting. “know i can’t say it” you mumble, hating that even now, saying vulgar words is embarrassing for you.
erens chest shakes with a laugh. “you just sucked my tongue down your throat, pip, and you can’t talk about my cock? you’re precious, c’mere.” he starts walking backwards, towards his car. “we gotta be sneaky about it but-” he dips down to kiss you again, once, twice. “i really wanna touch you”
you gulp, and nod, let him pull you to his car and open the backseat for you, climbing in after you. he shuts and locks it behind him and then he’s facing you, eren jaeger giving you his full attention. looking at you like he wants you, like he’s seeing you, like he wants to do alot of bad things to you.
you place a shaking hand on his shoulder. “im- i dont know what to do..”
you want to impress him, but pretending you’re good at something you’re not won’t do that. eren doesn’t like liars anyway.
he scoots close to you, pulling you halfway onto his lap until you’re sitting comfortably against him. you bite your lip when you feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your ass under your skirt. one of his hands settles on your bare thigh, scooting it up just barely.
“you ever watch porn, sweetheart?” erens breath puffs against your ear and you squirm on top of him.
you push down your own embarrassment, resigning yourself to be a big girl and be honest. “s-sometimes”
“yeah?” god, why does just that word turn you on so much? “tell me what kind of stuff you watch when you touch your little pussy”
his vulgar words go straight to your cunt, at the same time his hand slides up your thighs and slips under your skirt. you close your eyes when you feel the tip of his finger trace over the band of your panties. “they’re always a couple..” you gasp when his hand dips inside, palm cupping over your pussy. “a-and the guy has dark hair..”
“Imagining anyone in particular?” eren teases, but you hear his breath catch at the same time yours does when he sinks one long finger inside. the folds around your slit part seamlessly around the intrusion, sucking his finger in like your pussy wants it there. “so wet, baby. keep talking for me?”
ever the good girl, you push through the tingles and the heat spreading down your legs, the slick sound of his finger fucking in and out of you filling the silent car as you struggle to find words. “s-shes always inexperienced. Its her first time and...and hes gentle” you moan a little when erens thumb comes to swirl around your clit, hips lips finding your neck. he’s teasing another finger at your tight entrance when you swallow another groan and try to keep talking like he’d asked. “he’s gentle but he takes. t-takes what he wants”
“mm” eren hums, tongue sliding against your skin. you gasp when the tip of his ring finger edges in beside the other one, stretching your tight passage around his digits in thorough little twists of his fingers. “that’s real good, baby. you like the sound of that, huh?”
eren hooks his chin over your shoulder, bunches your skirt around your waist so he can see where your little pussy is clenching and squeezing around him, clit engorged and throbbing for attention. when you don’t answer, he continues, using the slick dripping down your slit, gathering it and then pushing back into you. “I bet” he says, low, husky. “In those videos, he eats her out real nice, yeah? makes sure her little virgin cunt is wet enough to take his cock”
“y-yeah” you pant, holding his wrist but not pulling it away, pushing him more towards you. you’re starting to grind down against the pleasure, walls rhythmically fluttering around his fingers, fucking yourself on them without even knowing it. he curls them, and your head thumps back against his shoulder as you cry out.
“i’ll give that to you” eren promises, pumping his fingers faster, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits over your blouse, giving it a squeeze. “gonna take you home after you cream around my fingers and lay you out on your bed” he kisses your cheek, holding you firm against him when you start to twitch and writhe. “lick this little flower open. wanna feel your thighs squeeze my face when i drink the cum from your pussy, get you all loose and wet and then i wanna feel you drip down my dick when i slide it inside”
“oh god, ren!” you jerk in his hold as you feel your orgasm crest over you, gushing down his palm, as you ride his hand, milking it as tingles shoot across your whole body. A milky, creamy film rests around his knuckles when he slides his fingers out of your weeping cunt, still pulsating and twitching from the come down.
he rubs the excess slick around your folds and clit, rubbing it in. you whimper and he chuckles and kisses your cheek.
you sag against him, fucked out. eren brushes some hair from your forehead and kisses it. “wannabe punk pounds sweet virgin pussy into her bed”
you look at him, confused and dazed “huh?”
eren grins at you. “s’ gonna be the name of our porno”
#poppy speaks#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger smut#aot smut#i hate this kinda but oh well#woof#eren jaeger imagine
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can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk
places i used to go
warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage
tags: sapnap x gn!reader
words: 2191
A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd
inbox/requests: open
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The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.
“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.
“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.
“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.
“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”
You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.
You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.
“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”
“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.
“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.
The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.
“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.
“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.
“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.
“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.
“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.
“Are you—?”
“What?” You reply right back.
“Nothing.”
Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.
“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.
“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”
You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.
“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.
“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.
The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.
“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.
“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”
“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”
“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.
Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.
Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.
“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.
“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.
You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.
“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.
“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.
“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.
The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.
“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.
You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.
“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”
You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”
He just smirks.
“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”
“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”
He just shrugs and continues down the side street.
“Is this the park you were talking about?”
He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.
“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.
“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”
“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”
It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.
“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.
“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.
You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.
“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.
“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.
You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.
“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.
You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.
You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.
-
A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think
#sapnap#mcyt#sapnap x gn!reader#sapnap x reader#sapnap x you#sapnap fluff#sapnap drabble#sapnap one shot#sapnap oneshot#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#honey answers#my lovely anon#sapnap fanfic#bubblyhoneyfics
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Greatest Weapon | Kaz Brekker
Summary: you’re Kaz’ greatest weapon, but he refuses to use you for one of his most important heists. angrily you question him for reasoning as to why and find out you’re not just his greatest weapon, but his greatest weakness too.
Warnings: fighting, slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, swears, shitty writing, little sweet at the end. readers gender isn’t specified. also please note i’m dyslexic so if there’s any mistakes please be kind about it!
let me know what you think! it’s rushed i know and probably not great but feedback is always appreciated! - parker
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Kaz sat at his desk, head resting in his gloved hands as he mulled over the conversation he’d just had about the largest mission with the crows. It was no doubt going to be a tricky one, and with your help the other were convinced it’d work. However, Kaz was not entirely too sure about that.
“I’ve said it before and I will say it again. We are not asking for their assistance.” Kaz muttered bitterly at Jesper, who was wide eyed at the suggestion of using your gifts. “But why not?” Inej pressed the matter. She’d seen you in action before, she knew you were more than capable of pulling off heists, especially one of this risk. “They’ve got talent, Kaz. Skill. We need that, especially now. Why can’t we use them?” Asked a desperate Inej.
“Because I said so!” Kaz had snapped, not meaning to come off as harsh, especially to Inej, but the subject of you had always round him up. “We are not using Y/N for this mission, and that. is. final.” The other crow members nodded, jaws slightly clenched and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless they listen to their boss and dropped the subject.
You, however, would not give up so easily. As soon as you had gotten to the Slat to hear the latest update on the mission, only to find out from Inej that you weren’t to be apart of it, all thanks to the ever so lovely bastard of the barrel, you saw red. Inej barely got to mutter out anything else she may have had to say, before you were stomping up the stairs to Kaz’s office.
You didn’t bother knocking like you usually would’ve, instead your soft hand met the cold metal doorknob, and ripped it open with great ferocity. The sound of intense creaking and Kaz’s name being spat broke him out of his thoughts, his cold and tired eyes snapping up to your angry ones. He stood up at once, his tall body standing still before your seething shorter figure.
“What is the meaning of this, Y/N.” He spoke in his usual authoritative edge. You scoffed. “Oh please, like you don’t fucking know exactly why I’m here. Instead why don’t you tell me the meaning of why you aren’t allowing me on this next mission? Huh? Why’s that, Kaz?” Your voice was harsh as you all but spat your words in his face, like they were venom seeping off your tongue in waterfalls.
Kaz wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t slightly surprised by your aggressiveness, yet of course he wouldn’t admit out loud or show it. Still, the spite in your demeanor towards him in this moment was like nothing he’d ever witnessed before. Sure you were as stubborn as could be, there was no denying that, and as his greatest weapon, he knew more than anyone just how fearsome you were. You’d just never directed it at him.
Until now. And Kaz could see just how much these jobs meant to you. However, regardless of the fact, his mind was made up, and that was final. You were not to be joining this mission, instead you could stay there with any medical supplies they may need ready in case anyone got injured. But he couldn’t risk you being the one in possible need of help in the unfortunate case you got hurt if you went.
And that’s exactly what he told you, not that final part of him not wanting you get hurt though of course. You let out another scoff followed by the fakest laugh he had ever heard. Actually, come by think of it, that was the only time he’d ever heard you laugh in general. What a pity it wasn’t genuine.
“Oh so what, is this a demotion? Or do you suddenly just not need me anymore, is that it? I thought I was your stupid ‘Greatest Weapon’. What changed that?”
‘My feelings for you!’ Kaz’s mind seemed to yell at him. Instead he just clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at you. “It’s not a demotion, it’s protection.”He claimed. You rolled your eyes. “Bullshit. Protection against what exactly? You know better than anyone else that I can handle myself. Been doin’ it since I was a kid, I’m more capable than most when it comes to fighting.”
“I wasn’t talking about your protection.” Kaz hissed. Lie. “I’m talking about our protection, me and the other Crows. You’re reckless, you get hotheaded, that puts us in danger. I can’t afford you putting any of our lives on the line anymore, especially on this job.”
Another lie. You weren’t any of those things. You were one of the most skilled he’d ever seen or known, he just had to say these things to get you to back down. You however, being the stubborn pain in the ass you always were, still wasn’t buying it, even if you were slightly hurt by what he said.
“No. No Kaz I’m buying that. I’m not reckless, I never have been. I’m your best shot at bringing home the big win for this heist and you know that! Everyone fucking knows that! So tell me, truthfully, why aren’t you letting me do this? Is it punishment? Or could it be that you’re jealous? Is that it?”
Kaz drew in a deep breathe as he listened to you rant, which stopped you short in your tracks. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous. Oh Saints, is the Kaz Brekker jealous of his Greatest Weapon? Is that why you don’t want me going, because you’re afraid I’ll best you?”
His dark eyes glared at the mention, but remained silent. You just smirked, thinking you had figured it out. “Well then,” you hummed. “I guess now that we’ve gotten to the bottom of this I can go, can’t I? Unless you don’t mind me telling everyone why you had such a hissy fit over me joining...”
With that, you turned to leave his office, satisfied thinking you won and could officially go. But before you reached the door, Kaz’s voice calling your name stopped you in your spot. You froze, shocked by the tone of his voice. Not because it was harsh, not because he was snapping at you, but... because the way he spoke was so soft it was like a whisper.
That was something you’d never experienced before. Kaz had never sounded so, desperate? You turned on your heals to him, your boots creaking on the floor as you came face to face with him. And that’s when the real shock of this situation set in.
In front of you was no longer your boss, the barrel of the bastard that so many feared. Instead, in his place was a boy who looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Y/N,” he began, it came out in a croak. “Kaz?” You questioned, unsure you took a few steps closer towards him.
He looked up you, with shiny eyes that looked like they burned with tears waiting to be shed. “Kaz, I- Whats going-,” you began, but he held up a gloved hand, silencing you.
“Y/N,” he started once more. “I- I’m not doing any of this out of jealousy, o-or because I think you’re reckless. I’m going this because...” his voice goes quiet, and he looks like he’s trapped in thought. “Because...?” you questioned, eagerly awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.
Kaz inhaled heavily before exhaling, pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly closing his eyes. “Because I can’t lose you.” he finally concluded. And now it was your turn to inhale sharply, shock overtaking you once more.
“W-what do you mean, lose me, Kaz? I-I dont-,” he interrupts you. “This heist is dangerous, Y/N. It’s not like our usual ones, this one could mean certain death for some. I cannot let any of those be you. I won’t. I can’t. You may be my greatest weapon, but you’re also my greatest weakness. W-without you I- I can’t think of what I’d do without you. You’re all I have left, Y/N. The only person I’ve had by my side since I was a child that I have left and I can’t jeopardize that more than I have. So please, please I’m begging you, stay here. For me.”
Your eyes went wide and glassy as he spoke, all the words that tumbled out of his mouth hitting you at full speed while you tried to process what this meant. You rose your bowed head to look him in the eyes, they mirrored your own. Glassy and wide, but with a mix of something you hadn’t seen in ages.
Childlike hope. The same hope he had in his eyes the day you promised you’d be by his side forever when you were both children. His only hope left was to keep you safe, that’s all he wanted. And that’s when you agreed, “okay.” your voice was shaky. “Okay, I’ll stay. But just for this one, deal? As long as you promise me you’ll be okay without me. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”
Kaz felt many things in this moment of what he had just revealed, but mostly he felt relieved at your agreement. If he could ensure you’d be safe for even just an extra day, then he’d make it his mission to make sure this heist went perfectly so he could make it back home to you.
“I promise. I’ll come back to you, Y/N. I always will.”
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Strictly Professional
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: HUMOR, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: A slip of the tongue leads Corpse to make an unexpected confession which leads to him getting lectured by his best friend. That’s all you need to know, the rest shall unfold before your eyes.
Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! I’m so sorry it’s been so long overdue but here it finally is and I really hope you come across it and read it. If so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤
I’ve buried my head under my arms, resting it on my desk as my ears are still violated by the hollering coming from my headset. I don’t know what in me snapped out of nowhere or what caused the slip-up, but what matters is that it happened and now I’m in some hot water. I’m practically the soup everyone in this Discord call at the moment will be eating for dinner tonight, getting a real kick at my expense - some even having the audacity to be mad at me over it - ahem, Rae, ahem - but bottom line: I won’t live this down easily.
“Hey everyone! What did I miss?“ Sykkuno, who was running late and missed this entire debacle makes an appearance. If it were any other occasion, I’d be overjoyed to hear he’s finally joining us, but his question of what he had missed renders me only able to cringe and wait for my friends’ next move.
“Sykkuno!“ Rae exclaims ecstatically, “Oh, strap in, imma tell you what you missed...“
“No, you won’t tell him, Rae.“ Toast cuts her off, sounding uncharacteristically serious, especially when taken into account how hard he was laughing just a moment ago, “This is Corpse’s tale to tell, don’t spare him the shame of telling it one more time.“
And just when I thought this fucker would prove himself to be a true friend...
“Oof, this sounds serious...“ Sykkuno says to fill the silence I purposely let linger just so I don’t give these bullies the satisfaction of hearing my embarrassment all over again even though they inevitably will.
“It is...“ I sigh with a heavy heart, hiding my face in the palm of my hand, “It’s really bad and embarrassing and...I’d rather not retell it at all let alone for a second time, but here it goes...“ I inhale as much air as I can as a method of gaining confidence before I start talking, “So you know MGK and I made a song. Yeah well, we’re gonna be making a music video for it and I asked Rae to be in it. Thing is, I wanted to ask Y/N first. Buckle up, this is where it starts going downhill: ok so I went over to their place so we could just chit chat an marathon a few movies like we usually do over the weekends but I also wanted to bring up the whole ‘hey, wanna be in my music video’ thing but didn’t know how. Mind you, we were drinking beers this whole time, might’ve had a few too many actually. Ok, we definitely had a few too many, but back on track: as I was blabbering and stumbling over my words, nervous as all hell and unable to string the simple question inside my head, all Y/N did was tilt their head and smile at me. You know, the odd thing is it was a genuine smile, not a drunken grin like you’d expect from someone on their fourth beer bottle. And then, out of the blue, they had the audacity to hit me with: ‘You’re so cute’ and I just sat there frozen for a few seconds. I mean, my reaction was on point - who wouldn’t react like that if their crush told them they found them cute. Anyway - I was like ‘what?’ and then, out of an even bluer blue, they freaking kissed me. I nearly had a heart attack damn it!“
“And he never asked them to be in the DAYWALKER music video!“ Rae clearly couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I didn’t get the time! I was out of there in the blink of an eye!“ I bark, feeling my face heating up with embarrassment and regret. God, I should never ask how stupid I can get because I keep surprising myself in the end with just how far my stupidity goes. It’s fucking insane.
“Oh God, poor Y/N.“ Sykkuno sighs, sounding only a tiny bit as though he’s about to laugh. I appreciate his self-control honestly, the rest of these fuckers were dying laughing as though our friends and my crush kissing me and me responding like I had an allergic reaction was the best joke to ever be told.
“Poor Y/N?“ I snap a little, “What about me?“
“Yeah, poor Y/N!“ Rae backs Sykkuno up, “Poor Y/N and poor me for the missed opportunity to me in a music video for a song of one of my best friends with another one of my best friends. Corpse, you better fix this!!“
“How?!“ I’m aware I sound desperate but I seriously wanna fix it just have no idea how to go about it. I mean, if this looney group of nine people over here don’t come up with a plan no one will so not all hope for me is dead just yet. Even if we all had only one braincell we’d still be able to figure it out - I mean, ten braincells ain’t as bad as it sounds. Truth be told, Y/N’s the real brain of the group and they’d most definitely be able to help me - so fuck the irony.
“Call them.“ Sykkuno suggests so casually as though it’s a no-brainer. I’d go as far as to say his nonchalance almost made me laugh. Has he forgotten who he’s talking to?
“No way.“ I turn that down real quick, unable to even imagine the course of that phone call without cringing.
“No, Sykkuno’s right, call them right here right now. Ask them to star in the music video and then swerve the conversation to that kiss.“ Charlie’s suddenly decided to join the torturing being preformed upon me over here.
“What will I even say? I have no idea what to tell them!“ I complain, aware that I sound like a tantrum-throwing toddler but it’s really not my fault.
“Corpse. Corpse dear, listen to me, follow each word I say really carefully, ok?“ Rae asks, her voice now pitched as though she’s addressing an actual child. Yeah, that’s her well-known way of mocking me. “How about you say the actual fucking words. You know: ‘Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?’“
I sigh, clearly defeated.
I pull out my phone, muttering to the crowd I’m about to speak in front of to be quiet as I put the ringing call on speaker, sweating like a pig the whole time. The room has risen in temperature and this hoodie has thickened, providing more warmth that’s more suffocating than comforting when it’s a hundred degrees outside. Or when I’m about to talk to my crush after THAT incident.
“Hello?“ Y/N’s voice on the other side rips me from my thoughts’ grasp, reminding me I’m on a mission.
“Hey Y/N, what’s up?“ I reply a little too quickly. Not giving them the time to reply with anything, I continue: “Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?“
DAMN IT WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SAY IT WORD FOR WORD?!?!
“Oh....“ They sound confused - and rightfully so - but then regain their composure finally, “I-I’d love to. Thanks for the opportunity, Corpse. I’m so happy you’ve made it so far. I’d be honored to be in the music video.“
Ok, that’s partial relief. Now - time for the second phase of this plan
“Uh....“ and there goes my whole vocabulary out the window, “You’re welcome.“
“Cool...cool...“ they mutter awkwardly, clearly looking for a way to end the call, “Um, by the way...this is strictly professional, right?“
No! No it’s not! Of course it isn’t! I’ve been head over heels for you for a year now, damn it!
“Of course, o-of course it is. No worries.“ I reply, once again, a little too quickly. Faster than I could’ve prevented it.
“Ok cool...well, text me the details....“ They once again trail off, hoping I’ll catch the hint.
And so I succumb.
“Will do.“ I sigh, “See ya.“
“See ya.“ They reply and hang up.
I’m left there staring at my phone screen with utter self-disappointment and frustration that’s so intense I cannot even express it in any way.
The whole lobby is at a loss of words too - all nine of them astonished by my stupidity.
Fortunately though, Charlie is quick to pull himself together and speak up because God forbid Charlie ever falls speechless, then we’d be SERIOUSLY in danger.
“Corpse. You. Are. The. Biggest. Fucking. Idiot.“
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time travel snippet
little time travel au oneshot. season 5 jon travels back in time to season 1. from the perspectives of tim, martin, and sasha. 3.5k.
i dont think i need to tag anything, but please let me know otherwise.
Tim wakes up that morning, and it’s just like any other day.
Well—no, okay, that’s a bit misleading. Today is his first day working as an archival assistant, so he’s one part nervous, one part that breathless, exhilarated feeling you only get when you’re about to do something unfamiliar that may or may not redefine your life for the foreseeable future. When he says “it’s just like any other day”, he means that he wakes up, and he’s a normal person doing normal people things like eating a healthy breakfast and going to work.
(So, no. In short, he doesn’t realize that today is the day when It happens, that big, life-changing event that you think will Never Happen To You.)
He gets out of bed, stumbles into the bathroom. Washes his face of whatever residue that’d built up during the night, tries to scrape away the evidence of his nightmares, smiles big and bright at the mirror to see how successful his efforts were. He’s betrayed by the traitorous bags beneath his eyes, but that’s okay. Sasha taught him how to wield concealer as a shield whenever his past wore down his armor.
He shoots twin finger guns into his reflection, making soft pew, pew! noises that are almost too-loud in the hush of the bathroom. Then he turns on his heel and walks away, sauntering and humming along with the chorus of Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5.
He gets to the Institute twenty minutes before he’s supposed to—not because he’s trying to impress his boss or whatever (he and Jon have known each other long enough that there’s no point). It’s just, Jon will probably want to make some sort of game-plan before the actual workday starts.
The poor man had been relieved to an almost comical degree when Tim had said yes, I’ll come with you to the Archives. It’s painfully obvious how out-of-his-depth Jon is with the whole “Head Archivist” thing. Tim’s honestly baffled as to why Elias had singled him out for the position in the first place, considering his lack of qualifications.
But, whatever. It’s fine! Tim and Sasha will be there to help him—although the third assistant is a bit of a problem, considering that they know absolutely nothing about him. There’s no guarantee that this Martin Blackwood won’t report inadequacies or mistakes back to Elias. If that’s the case, Tim and Sasha will have to be Jon’s safety net, which is partially why Tim is hoping to talk to Jon before anyone else gets there.
He also wants to talk to Jon because he just knows the man is probably working himself up over all of this. Maybe reassurances won’t do away with the source of anxiety entirely, but at least it’ll remind Jon that he’s not alone, and that he can count on Tim and Sasha.
As expected, when Tim gets there he can see a sliver of light pouring out from the cracked door of the Head Archivist’s office. He selects a desk and sets his bag on top of it, noting a set of strange gouges in the fake wood with a raised eyebrow, and then an internal shrug. The Institute issued laptop is near the far edge of his desk, and his collection of pictures are strategically placed so that he can see them all clearly.
His eyes linger over the image of him, his mother, and his brother. Their smiles are almost perfect replicas of each other, like someone took a mold of one of their faces and recreated it twice over.
Briefly, he closes his eyes. Then he shakes himself, releases a slow, steadying breath, and goes to check on Jon.
Tim’s not sure what he’s expecting to see when he goes into Jon’s office.
(That’s misleading too, though. He’s not sure if Jon will be visibly calm or upset, if he’ll be on his laptop, if he’ll be picking at the skin around his fingernails, as he so often does when he’s stressed. He is expecting Jon as he is and always has been—a twenty-some year old going on sixty, who wraps his gruff, grumpy demeanor about himself to protect the soft, vulnerable core he likes to pretend doesn’t exist.)
He comes up to the door, and the soft rectangle of light that emanates from beneath the door paints the tips of his shoes gold. “Jon?” he calls softly, rapping his knuckles against the frame. There’s a soft rustling noise—papers maybe? but no audible response, so he shrugs and pushes the door open. “I’m coming in.”
Tim steps inside, a quip instinctively readying itself on his tongue—but then his gaze lands on Jon, and he freezes dead in his tracks.
Even years later, he still vividly, viscerally remembers the moment he saw Danny standing on the stage underneath the Royal Opera House, the way he’d looked...not quite right. The wrongness had been subtle, so much so that it had been unnoticeable upon first glance, upon second glance. The longer Tim had looked though, the more obvious it had become, exposing all the little faults in that almost-perfect recreation of his brother.
Looking at Jon now, it’s the first and only thing he can think of. Because—yes, there’s the long, silver-streaked black hair, there’s the rich brown eyes, there’s the pair of spectacles that make him look far older than he actually is. But that’s where the similarities between the Jon he knows and this Jon end.
Jon’s always been a small man, but his feigned haughtiness makes him seem much bigger than he actually is. Except—except this Jon looks smaller somehow, his shoulders curved protectively inward, like he’s trying to present less of a target. And there’s something about his face, too—his expression is too sharp, too much—
But the worst of it is his eyes. There’s something very wrong with his eyes.
Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Jon? He doesn’t say it out loud though, just keeps staring at Jon, a heady mix of terror and horror making any sort of reaction impossible.
After a moment Jon’s lips thin, contorted by some distant cousin of displeasure, and he rises to his feet. Tim stumbles instinctively backward, his breath escaping him in a sharp gasp that’s immediately swallowed up by the apathetic stacks of books and papers surrounding them. He’s struck by the fact that if he dies here, it’s unlikely anyone will notice; he’ll become just another set of marks gouged into the desk, willed away with an uneasy shrug.
Jon freezes, lips parting subtly, as though he were about to speak. Tim feels his breath catch in his chest, unable to shake himself out of the clouded stupor his mind has fallen into.
In the end, Jon says nothing. Just releases a long, slow breath of air and sits back down, pushing his chair close to his desk. The motion looks heavy, tired, as though it takes far more energy than it should.
“You—you should go,” Jon rasps, and there’s something off about his voice too, though Tim can’t put his finger on why. He can’t cobble together enough of a train of thought to make sense of any of this, all he can think of is that clown ripping Danny apart—
He stumbles out of Jon’s office, sits down at his desk. Stares down at the cheap, fake wood, at the gouges that have marred the otherwise pristine surface. Puts his head in his hands, and tries to will his heart to stop pounding in his chest.
-0-
Martin’s heard things about Jonathan Sims.
He’s not usually the type to pay attention or encourage gossip, as the vivid memories of his classmates tittering cruelly whenever he walked by still leaves a sour taste in his mouth.The problem with the Institute is that the employees get bored pretty easily. Though most would consider academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal to be fairly interesting, it’s still academic research. And the subject content can get to be a bit...repetitive. There’s only so many gruesome statements you can read without thinking, oh great, more meat.
So the employees gossip a lot, and while Martin usually tries to keep his head down and avoid it, it’s difficult not to overhear some things. And from what little he’s heard, he’s...a bit concerned. Rude and unsociable has frequently been mentioned, as have arrogant and unnecessarily finicky, and worst of all, a bit of a stuck-up know-it-all.
Normally he tries not to put too much stock in office gossip—he’s well aware that the grapevine tends to exaggerate one’s most undesirable traits—but if any of it is true, then he might just be in trouble. It was hard enough being a library employee when his boss wasn’t even paying attention most of the time. If Jon is as exacting as they say, it might be enough to expose the fact that Martin has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. And if that happens, then he might get fired, and he can’t get fired, he needs this job, he can barely keep up with his mum’s medical bills as it is—
Calm down, Martin tells himself firmly, pressing his hand against his sternum, as though that will be enough to quell the rising panic. It’s only your first day. Maybe he’s nice, and we’ll actually be good friends.
(With his luck? Yeah, right.)
The Institute looms in the distance, growing closer with every terrified, grudging footstep. A shiver runs up his spine at the sight of its imposing presence, a dark, ugly blot of a building against the backdrop of the iron grey clouds.
If there’s one thing he’s good at though, it’s keeping his head down and muddling through until he’s able to figure out what is actually expected of him. He can twist and fold himself into whatever role they need him to fill, as he has done so many times in the past. Not easily perhaps, but he has always managed. The alternative is untenable, after all.
So he takes a deep breath, and shoves his panic down as deep as possible. Lifts his head and forces a smile onto his face, like a good attitude will be enough to protect him from his boss’s wrath.
He could really do with a cup of tea.
Martin trudges down the stairs, giving the blank walls, the old-fashioned carpet, a dubious look as he does. The Archives themselves are as he remembers it—he’s been down here a couple of times when Gertrude made a request for something specific, but—
He pauses when he notices a man sitting at one of the desks, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders aren’t shaking and his breathing is even, so Martin doesn’t think that he’s crying? He’s just….sitting there, his stillness so perfect it’s almost inhuman.
“Hello?” Martin calls softly, cautiously, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet.
The man looks up, revealing a very handsome face and brown eyes so dark they may as well be black. His cheeks are dry but his eyes are bright and a little wild, and his mouth is pressed into a small, tight line. He doesn’t speak, just keeps watching, blinking dazedly in Martin’s direction. Martin gets the feeling that this person isn’t entirely there at the moment, like a house in which every room is lit, but there are no people inside.
He swallows and shifts nervously back and forth, trying to decide whether or not to call for some backup. Eventually he sets his bag on the floor and shuffles a bit closer. “Um—are you—is everything okay?”
The man blinks rapidly, some semblance of awareness creeping back into his gaze. He shakes his head slowly, pushes his short, gelled hair back from his head. His hands are trembling. “I’m...yeah, I’m fine. It’s—everything’s, it’s…”
But then his gaze lands on something over Martin’s shoulder, and all the color drains out of his face, his mouth shutting with a painful sounding click. Martin quickly spins around, searching for whatever could’ve scared him so much—
There’s someone standing in the doorway of Gertrude’s office.
There are so many things that one normally takes in upon first meeting another person: their hair, their skin color, all the little wrinkles and marks that give you the briefest insight into their life. Martin looks at posture first, tends to check if a person is intentionally looming, or if they’re making themself smaller.
But all Martin can see are the eyes.
There’s—two of them he thinks, but two is such an arbitrary number when the thing you’re applying it to doesn’t ascribe to human values (he’s not sure how he knows that—how does he know that—?). That horrible, terrible gaze is an unerring arrow, all-encompassing, all-consuming, piercing the deepest corners of his mind. It hurts in some distant, nebulous way he’s not even sure he comprehends—
Then he blinks, and the sheer terror, that feeling of the horrible, violating exposure of everything that he is, abruptly snuffs out. What’s left is just a person, wispy and small, his slight frame fairly drowning in a chunky, cable-knit jumper. He’s leaning against his doorframe, his eyes—two big brown ones, rich and unfathomably sad and more than that, human—drinking Martin in, his lips parted in a soundless gasp.
“Um—” Martin glances over his shoulder, and almost leaps out of his skin when a land falls heavily on his shoulder. The man who’d been sitting in the chair is standing just behind him, a strained but polite smile on his face.
“Hi Jon,” the man says, an undercurrent of a warning in his voice.
Martin glances between the two, his confusion growing with every passing moment. This is not what he was expecting when he first came into work today, and the uncertainty makes him feel strange and off-kilter.
The person in the door swallows once, twice, then straightens, one hand still gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. When he speaks, his voice is soft, tentative, a little ragged around the edges. “Tim. It’s, um...it’s good to see you.”
“Martin Blackwood, was it?” Tim continues, injecting a bit of cheer into his voice. It takes Martin a moment to realize that he’s being addressed, and he shoots Jon—this is Jonathan Sims?—an uncertain look before nodding slowly. “We’re happy to have you on the team.”
“O-Oh?” Martin squeaks, then grits his teeth and bodily forces his voice back into its normal range. “I’m—um, I’m happy to be here?”
“Good,” Tim says through a grin that looks more like a grimace, giving Martin’s shoulder a friendly pat. The look he shoots Jon is a dark, mistrustful thing. The look Jon gives him back is fragile, vulnerable, that winds the tension in Tim’s shoulders so tight it has to be painful.
Jon’s gaze flickers to Martin, just for a second—and then he disappears into his office, leaving the door cracked behind him.
Tim and Martin stand there for a second, staring at the door. Tim’s still tense as a bowstring, and his grip on Martin’s shoulder is almost uncomfortable. The air in the Archives feels stuffy and too warm, and there’s a strange prickling sensation on the back of Martin’s neck, like he’s being subjected to close scrutiny.
Then Tim sighs and lets go of Martin’s shoulder, a little of the tension bleeding out of him, and without it he looks small, deflated. He goes back to his desk and sits down, booting up his laptop without a word of explanation to Martin.
Martin stares at the back of Tim’s head for a moment, a number of questions clamoring around in his brain—what the fuck was that? What’s wrong with Jon? Why are you so obviously suspicious of him?—but the words won’t come. Breaking the silence feels...sacrilegious, somehow. Every breath of air sticks against the back of his throat.
In the end, he doesn’t say anything either, just sits at his desk and takes out his Institute-issued laptop. Stares blankly at the screen as the machine slowly, laboriously, comes to life.
-0-
Sasha’s not entirely sure how to interpret the tense atmosphere that has descended over the Archives.
The first day she’d arrived a couple of minutes before she was supposed to, prepared to follow Jon’s direction and help him adjust as best she could. (Her feelings about Jon’s promotion...didn’t matter. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his fault that Elias was an old-fashioned misogynist.)
But when she’d come down the stairs, Tim and the assistant she didn’t know, Martin, had been seated quietly at their desks. They’d both had the same distant, shell-shocked look on their faces, like they’d received some shattering, horrible news. Sasha had sent Tim a confused look, but he either hadn’t noticed it, or hadn’t wanted to explain.
She hadn’t even seen Jon that first day, just received a polite email asking her to start organizing the statements according to the system which he’d devised.
It’s been almost three days, and nothing has changed. Oh sure, they’ve all started organizing the statements as directed. Tim cracks jokes, Martin tiptoes around them and makes copious amounts of tea. That strange tension that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, like the world is holding its breath in anticipation, hasn’t faded though. And while she doesn’t know Martin all that well, she knows that something’s still up with Tim. He seems more subdued than usual, keeps sending uncomfortable looks in the direction of Jon’s office—
—which hasn’t been open since that first day. She hasn’t seen Jon at all either, no matter how early she arrives or how late she stays. The only proof she has that he’s still alive is the polite email she periodically receives, detailing some specific task that he wants for them to do.
Even then, his emails are...odd. She’s not sure how she can tell, but they feel...awkward? Stilted? Like he’s only half-aware of what he’s typing, or like he’s only asking them to do things because he feels like he should, not because he has any actual goal in mind.
Normally she’d be frustrated by this, would complain bitterly to Tim about Elias passing over her for someone who obviously doesn’t properly appreciate the position they’ve been given—except that she knows Jon. He’d made a point to explain the situation to her himself, an apologetic twist tucked into the corner of his mouth. More than that, he’d asked her to follow him to the archives, saying that he wanted the two people he trusted most, her and Tim, to come with him.
He respects her too much not to take this job seriously.
The strangeness of the archives is only emphasized by Jon’s complete and utter lack of presence within it, but she doesn’t—she doesn’t buy that. She doesn’t believe that he’d just suddenly decide not to do the job he’d been so anxious to excel at.
More damning than anything is Tim’s complete, utter silence regarding Jon’s strange behavior, but whatever he knows about it, he isn’t saying anything. Martin is willing to talk, but he seems to be as lost as she is.
“I—that first day, Jon…” Martin shrugs, shooting a nervous glance toward the door leading to the archives. He’s been spending a lot of time hovering in the break room making tea, not that she can blame him. “He—I mean obviously I don’t know him very well, but he seemed...upset?”
“Upset,” Sasha repeats dubiously.
Martin lets out an exhausted sigh and turns away, waving a dismissive hand. “Look, I’m not entirely sure how to explain it. He just—okay, so, bear with me for a second, but he reminded me of this guy who used to live in my neighborhood.”
Sasha backs off, folding her arms and leaning against the counter. “Okay?”
“There was this little old couple that used to live in my neighborhood. They were—they were really sweet! The husband used to give candy to us younger kids. But um—sometimes you’d see him sitting in the rocking chair on his porch, and it was like...he wasn’t entirely there? Like, he’d just sit there for hours, rocking and staring at nothing. That’s—that’s what Jon’s expression reminded me of.”
Martin gets more animated the more he talks, Sasha notes; his hands move in broad, sweeping gestures, his expression twisting into an expression of extreme concentration. The moment he finishes he deflates again, tucking his hands into his armpits self-consciously, a hedgehog curling protectively in on itself.
“So, yeah,” he finishes eloquently.
“Huh,” Sasha says thoughtfully.
She gets back to her desk. Looks over at Tim, who’s studiously working through a box of statements, his mouth set in a neutral, concentrated frown. Takes a deep breath, letting the taste of dust and old papers sit heavy on her tongue.
Then she opens her laptop and starts looking through the catalog of cursed items that are currently being held in Artifact Storage.
(She doesn’t think that she’ll find anything, but—but just in case.)
-0-
They all get the call the next Monday morning: Elias Bouchard was found dead in his office.
#tma#iceeckos12 writes#my writing#just a little time travel au#probably wont continue this but i thought it was kinda fun
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Texts from the Lost Tomb, part 5.2
Also yes this is a 5 part story arc, why do you ask, no I’m not “avoiding real life work”
Main Chat
Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW THERE ARE THOSE WHO WOULD COMPLAIN ABOUT BEING DRAGGED OUT OF BED AT AN UNGODLY HOUR FOR THE SAKE OF SOME JEWELRY AND FORCED INTO AN ADVENTURE
Wu Xie: And we are just so grateful you are above all that.
Zhang Qiling: You were fully awake and insisted we pack and go as soon as possible in case there was, and I quote, “more weird shit happening we can cash in on.”
Wu Xie: I mean it’s kind of interesting that the Zhang family sent a car for us. We could have driven. So what is going on there, I wonder?
Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW FOR A PARANOID AND CONNIVING LITTLE SHIT YOU STILL RADIATE OBLIVIOUS BAMBI ENERGY
HATE TO BE THE ADMIRAL ACKBAR HERE BUT ITS DEF A TRAP MY BOY
WHY DO U THINK WE ARE MESSAGING AND NOT TALKING DUMMY
WERE YOU IN A TOMB ON THE DAY THEY TAUGHT PPL STRANGER DANGER
BUT NO NO YOU WERE ALL “LETS GET IN THE VAN WITH THE FREE CANDY AND PUPPIES I BET WE’RE GOING TO THE CIRCUS”
THIS IS THE LAST STRAW IM LOJACKING YOU FOR REAL THIS TIME, SHOULDVE DONE THIS YEARS AGO
Zhang Qiling: I agree, in this particular case, with Pangzi. You should not have gotten in their vehicle while we were still inside the house. It forced us to follow you into the van to prevent separation, and they seemed to be expecting that. I don’t know whether Zhang Rishan intended this, but I don’t trust him.
Wu Xie: :( I got excited and didn’t think it through. I’m sorry.
Wang Pangzi: DONT YOU GIVE US THE BIG EYES WE ARE IMMUNE
MOSTLY
SPEAKING OF IMMUNE ITS REALLY FUCKIN COLD IN HERE AND UR STILL SICK, PUT YOUR JACKET ON STUPID
Wu Xie: oh relax, I’m fine. No fever at all today, remember? I feel a lot better, too.
Wang Pangzi: YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE BUT TO HAVE XIAO GE INTERVENE
Zhang Qiling: It is odd to say this, but Pangzi is right again. You are barely back on your feet and could easily get worse again. Wu Xie. Jacket. Now.
Wu Xie: Oh fine. Teaming up on me, I see. Happy now?
Wang Pangzi: FUCKING ECSTATIC. NOW BACK TO HOW WE MAY BE PULLING A LI CU
Wu Xie: If it is an abduction, it wouldn’t be them moving against the whole Wu family—not with Uncle Erbai in charge. Zhang Rishan strikes me as someone who doesn’t make a move unless he is sure of his plan, and this is all a bit last-minute to be a big shift. Besides, they let Xiao Ge keep his sword and we still have all our phones.
Wang Pangzi: TOOK AWAY MY EXPLOSIVES THO THE BASTARDS
Zhang Qiling: In fairness, you were waving them around and yelling that if they tried anything it was going to be “yippeekiyay motherfucker all up in this bitch.”
Wang Pangzi: IT SOUNDS LESS COOL COMING FROM YOU. I THINK I SEE THE TEAHOUSE?
Wu Xie: me too. That’s Zhang Rishan on the steps. This must be urgent. Everybody stay shiny.
Zhang Qiling: I will be getting out first. Wu Xie in the middle, Pangzi at the rear.
Wang Pangzi: AND WHAT A VIEW;)
An hour later…
Main Chat
Wu Xie: Is everyone okay? I tried knocking but nothing is getting through, these are some solid walls.
Wu Xie: guys???
Wang Pangzi: OOPS PHONE WAS ON SILENT AND I WAS BUSY YELLING AT THE CEILING
IM PRESENT AND PISSED OFF
Zhang Qiling: Apologies, I was trying to break down the door.
Wang Pangzi: SO THIS MAY NOT BE THE TIME TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO BUT WHILE WE’RE HERE
Wu Xie: fuck Pangzi, I know, okay??
I’m an idiot, I’m so fucking stupid. It’s not like it’s the first or fiftieth time I’ve put you two in danger, either.
Wang Pangzi: HEY HEY WHOA NOW
STOP SAYING RUDE SHIT ABOUT MY FRIEND
ITS GONNA BE OKAY
DESPITE KNOWING THIS WAS A BAD IDEA I STILL COULDNT PREDICT HOW MUCH CHAOTIC LUCK THIS FAMILY HAS
DAMN IT I HATE WHEN HEI XIAZI IS RIGHT ABOUT THINGS
Zhang Qiling: I’m sorry. This is my fault. My line has a ruthlessly pragmatic streak and they’ve clearly wanted to test us separately to see why the necklace reacted to our arrival like that. It does not excuse Zhang Rishan trapping us in these separate rooms.
Wang Pangzi: UHH BITCH I SAID THIS FAMILY NOT YOUR FAMILY
THIS AINT ABOUT THEM
YOUR FAMILY IS ON MY SHIT LIST EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY
THIS FAMILY MEANT US OBVS
UGH ANY SIGN OF THE BASTARDS?
Zhang Qiling: no. Wu Xie?
Zhang Qiling: Wu Xie, answer me.
Wang Pangzi: WU XIE
TIANZHEN
PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE DAMNIT YOU'RE SCARING XIAOGE
Zhang Qiling: I’m going to try breaking down the door again.
Wu Xie: Hello, Wang Pangzi and Zhang Qiling. My apologies for the rather inhospitable circumstances, but this seemed expedient considering the unknown qualities of the necklace. I could not be sure who was causing what, or what could happen next, and thus have temporarily set you in separate rooms for the sake of everyone’s safety.
Wang Pangzi: WTF GIVE HIM BACK HIS FUCKIN PHONE ZHANG RISHAN I KNOW ITS YOU YOU PRETENTIOUS ANTIQUE
WE DESTROYED THIS PLACE BEFORE AND WE CAN DO IT AGAIN
Zhang Qiling: Your concerns for everyone’s safety are noted. Thank you for whatever you believe you’ve done right here.
Now. If you release us immediately and return Wu Xie to us, we will consider leaving without direct personal retribution.
Wang Pangzi: WHAT HE SAID AND ALSO YOU SUCK
Wu Xie: I regret that this has happened, I hope to make it up to you in the future. For the purpose of today’s needs, however—I will have my men escort the two of you out if you so desire, but unfortunately Wu Xie will need to stay until we have finished examining him.
Wang Pangzi: EXAMINING??? YOU FUCKING PERV HANDS OFF HE MAY BE THE BELLE OF THE BALL BUT HIS DANCE CARD IS SPOKEN FOR
I SWEAR I DID NOT GO THROUGH TEN YEARS OF THIS STARCROSSED CLUSTERFUCK FOR YOU TO SWOOP IN AND STEAL MY FRIENDS BF
Wu Xie: There is no call for rudeness. He will not be harmed. The artifact was responding to him directly. It has not lit up like this in over 200 years, and I need to understand why it is responding, and responding to someone who is not our kin, which it has never done before. This could have implications for everyone in my family if it could protect someone at the right moment.
Wang Pangzi: OKAY BUT CONSIDERING OUR TRACK RECORD IN THIS BUILDING AND THE SITUATION AT HAND Y’ALL ARE ABOUT TO NEED PROTECTION
Wu Xie: The testing would be going better if Wu Xie wasn’t worrying himself unnecessarily over where you both are, it’s making our readings difficult.
Wang Pangzi: OH GEE SO SORRY YOUR KIDNAPPING VICTIMS ARENT THRILLED TO BE HERE TO SAMPLE YOUR CREEPY JEWELRY BOX BUT THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM
Zhang Qiling: Zhang Rishan. I appreciate that you must think of our family first in your decisions. As must I. I hope you can appreciate what that means for decisions I make.
Wang Pangzi: HEHEHE SO TRUE BESTIE
YOU PISSED OFF THE WRONG GOTH TODAY BUDDY BOY
Zhang Qiling: A compromise: we stay with him as you run your tests. That will calm him and assuage Pangzi’s concerns and prevent me from…testing the limits of your lifespan.
Wu Xie: I accept that this may temporarily impact our relations, but am hopeful that you will come to understand that sometimes I need to make certain choices for this family that are…difficult. I will come to let you—One moment. Something seems to be happening.
Babysitters Club Chat
Wang Pangzi: OH SO WE ARE GONNA JUST POLITELY SIT WITH WU XIE AS STRANGERS POKE HIM WITH NEEDLES ARE WE HUH WELL LOOK WHOS BEING A HELPFUL LITTLE LAB ASSISTANT
Zhang Qiling: I’m attempting to convince him to let us out. Of course we will not simply sit there. Some lying to gain trust is necessary here.
Wang Pangzi: UR BEIN A SHADY BITCH XIAOGE AND ITS HOT
THATS WHY YOUR TATTOO IS SO BIG ITS FULL OF SECRETS
ALWAYS KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU TO—WAIT WHAT WAS THAT SOUND??
At the same time…
Bonnie and Clyde Chat
Xie Yuchen: …so, this is not what I expected to find.
Hei Yangjing: yeah kiddo is a bit freaked out:/ this sucks. I mean I get that they are concerned blah blah blah necklace goes brightbright but maybe we should go find the other two
or at least find a way to let Wu Xie know we are here, that room he’s in looks like a dungeon and not in a good way
Xie Yuchen: Does it look like I’m able to do anything right now? Also, I’m fairly certain they won’t be harmed. Zhang Rishan may be callous, but he isn’t stupid.
Hei Yangjing: r u kidding
he split up Romeo and Juliet, then left Romeo with a sword—seems pretty stupid to me
Xie Yuchen: Yeah I’m not going near that. He made his bed with that choice. What can you see? These Neanderthal guards are blocking my view.
Hei Yangjing: uh so there’s like a lab table situation
Wu Xie isn’t tied up, a good sign in this context
I can’t see what those people are holding, they’re talking a lot and some asshole just grabbed Wu Xie’s arm, looks like maybe they are putting in an IV?
The necklace is—oh. Oh shit.
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Viability.
Dick Gr.ay.son x Lyell ( s/i )
GIF CREDIT: x
WARNINGS: titans season 3 spoilers, mentions of death and loss, angst.
WORD COUNT: 1192
AUTHOR'S NOTES: wrote this after today's episode because it has me feeling™. this takes place before dick travels into the woods and goes through with his plan to lure in Jason, which he omits mentioning, for obvious reasons. not sure how good this is but I wanted to post it since I am rarely commit to and finish fics this fast.
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"Where are you going?"
Dick had swiftly grabbed his car keys off the entryway table, and made a b-line for the door, only stopping dead in his tracks upon hearing the other's voice. He looked back quickly, and seeing Lyell stood there with expectant eyes, he relaxed, his gaze turning softer.
"Nowhere you need to worry about." He assured them. Lyell had inquired only with a innocent curiosity, but was met with a hardened expression that made the smile on their face fade a little. Dick may not have been the most expressive person (though admittedly, in their eyes at least, he had been opening up a bit more these days; wearing his heart on his sleeve more, even if only slightly moreso than before). But they knew when their boyfriend's head was somewhere else. They could practically feel the tension he had built around himself , despite not even knowing what had brought him into this mindset in the first place.
"Hey," their words suddenly went gentle as they walked over to him, eyes laced with concern. " You doing okay? "
Dick knew if he looked into them his tough exterior would be rendered useless, and in a last ditch effort to hide his true intentions, he averted his eyes elsewhere, anywhere but at theirs. He had plans he was set on, after what Jason did, not just to Hank, but to Dawn and Conner, to all of them, to his family -- he wanted to take down Red Hood, once and for all. Even if his means weren't exactly safe, or legal. They were impulsive, but he wasn't about to say that to Lyell.
After all, that was their brother. Though they had danced around talking about it with him, he knew they still held some sort of care for the former titan. He could remember the sickness they expressed when they had found out Jason was Red Hood, that Jason was not only alive, but trigger happy at that, having turned on them and killed innocents in what seemed like unwarranted yet elaborate attacks. And the horror in their eyes when Hank advocated for killing Jason (before he could cause anymore harm) was vivid in his mind. No doubt now, after the death of Hank at Jason's hand, was Lyell feeling an internal confliction. One that, despite everything, they did their best to suffer through alone.
Hypocritical, maybe. But, after what Bruce put him though, it was a coping mechanism that Dick could fully sympathize with.
"I'm fine," he settled on as an answer. "But I might be gone a while."
Lyell furrowed their eyebrows. Even now, in a private moment with the person he felt understood him most, he chose to close himself off from them. This wasn't an answer that was uncommon for them to receive from him. But, after what they'd been through together up until this point, and all the times they opened up to him, it felt like this time ... it hurt a little more.
"Is it that bad?" Lyell asked. Their way their voice faltered felt almost as they had given up stopping him already. "At least let me go with you."
"I'm out of options. I dont have any other choice." Dick spoke his words carefully in hopes it would calm their nerves. But knowing Lyell, they'd worry about him regardless if he wasn't right there with them. "You should stay here, keep an eye on Gar and Conner. Make sure they're doing okay after what happened. But I dont want you getting hurt at my expense. I can take care of myself just fine on my own."
It was a dangerous plan that came to him after Barbara had called him earlier that day; at a vulnerable moment, after having to part ways with Dawn, a close friend who had stuck with him, no matter how many times he had given her a reason not to. Though Barbara had also asked him how he was doing, he had dismissed her just the same. What was important now was doing what he hadn't let Hank do -- apprehend Jason before its too late. Or, in this case, it already was too late.
"Just because you can doesn't mean you have to," they wanted to say so badly, but the words felt thick in their chest, unable to come out. Deep down they knew once he had his mind set, there was no persuading him.
Feeling no other choice, Lyell pushed themselves into Dick's chest, wrapping their arms around him in a tight hug. They clinged to him as if he would vanish the moment he walked out of that door.
"Just ... don't do anything stupid while you're gone ... okay?"
There was a moment of surprise that quickly turned into adoration. It was only for a moment; but as Dick returned the gesture and held them close, he felt understood. Trusted. They didn't attempt to stop him, regardless of their worries, despite the many times he had disappeared on them before. Letting himself melt into their hold, even if only for a second, he pressed his lips to their temple in a ghost of a kiss.
"of course not." he whispered.
Their embrace lasted only seconds before the moment fleeted. Dick slowly let go of them. Lyell lingered a moment, hesitant to let go, but eventually did. They kept their gaze low; They didn't want to look at him, because they were afraid to confront that maybe that would be the last time they'd ever get to. After all, they weren't stupid. They knew whatever he was putting himself up against, it had to do with Jason. And they knew what their brother was capable of. It wouldn't be the first time he tore someone close to them away without leaving them even as much as a goodbye. But they trusted Dick; They've invested their whole heart in him with the belief that he would do his best not to break it.
But boy, how they already began to miss the warmth, the safety, and the certainty of holding onto him.
" Lyell ... "
Dick felt like he should say something. But before he could, Lyell turned away, disappearing down the long hallway without giving him a second look. Before their emotions could get the best of them and spill into his view.
There was a moment of reconsideration, but it didn't last. Dick decided against going after them. Instead, he watched them leave with solemnity. In the end, he didn't want to involve them in such a risk. He didn't even know if he was going to bring Jason back alive. Or if this would backfire and he wouldn't return himself. He knew well, if he got the chance, Jason would kill him immediately. And it was better him than Lyell -- he had already suffered so much loss of so many close to him for his age. He couldn't lose them. He couldn't lose Lyell.
But Dick wasn't going to waste any time overthinking it.
He was going to stop Red Hood once and for all.
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#lyell ? posting fics ? what timeline is this#ok to rb!#my writing#long post tw#[sh] : i know the devil you've been fighting with ; i swear i'll never let you down again 🦇
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Since this is very frequently asked of me, I decided to make a proper post about it, that way it’s easier for you to find and easier for me to link if someone else asks. Hopefully this is somewhat useful for you guys? I tried anyway alsjsnja so here! This can be applied to any fandom but since I write for HP I took a lot of my examples for there. But this applies for anything!!
Writing Advice for Fanfic:
Characterisation -
When characterising, I understand it can be hard to differentiate your characters. Sometimes it’s easy to let them all fall into one generalised ‘character’. So here I’m gonna try and help you with keeping your characters separate from each other and more accurate when reading/writing.
Getting the right pet names/terms of endearment that a certain character would say to another character or to the reader is so useful for characterising. It may sound stupid, but it does help.
For example, in my opinion, Draco wouldn’t say ‘love’ to his s/o. Maybe to someone else or at the beginning of a flirtatious relationship, but not to someone who he’s dating. For me, he is more likely to use ‘darling’ or ‘princess’. However, if you don’t know for a certain character, the generic term ‘love’ is a good one to fall back on.
Another thing is, can you actually picture that character in your head doing or saying the think you’re making them do or say? Does it feel forced in your mind or does it seem natural? If it seems natural then you’re probably on the right track. An easy way to do this is by imagining the film/tv show character in your mind and hearing their voice etc...
For dialogue, which I will move onto further down, can you hear this character saying that piece of dialogue? How do they usually talk? For Fred or George, they’re often cocky/confident but with Neville he’s often stuttering and shy. So just keep this in mind when you’re writing interactions with other characters or the reader.
It sounds obvious, but what do they look like? When you say ‘They run their hand through their hair’, well what colour is their hair? Are they doing this confidently or nervously? Body language is essential - it’s something we use everyday without realising, but it says a lot. Really picture the character in your mind and portray this in what you write. We want to know who we’re reading for, not just from the title, but we want to feel like we’re really reading for this character.
Plot -
This will not apply to all writers, you may not agree and you may not want to do this. This is my personal opinion and what works for me. But here goes:
I learned this pretty quickly - fluff is brilliant, I’m a fluff fan, but I don’t write fluff with no plot (or angst either but i see this done more often with fluff) It can be good sometimes if it’s maybe a bit shorter like 700-1000 words or so, but even then, try to think of a small plot. Even if it’s a tiny plot, like sneaking out or baking a cake with someone who can’t bake. It makes the story more interesting and more likely for your readers to continue on. We want something to look forward to.
For longer oneshots, this really applies. I don’t, personally, want to read something over 1k if it’s just fluff with no plot. Keep me interested, will there be suspense? Twists? Pining? Oblivious characters? A problem? A resolution? There doesn’t have to be a resolution, maybe you’ll leave it on a cliffhanger and let your readers decide how it ends. But keep us enagaged.
For angst, it’s less generally done but again, a plot is useful. It also makes writing it for you easier if you have somewhere to go with it. Writing just fluff or angst can be hard if there is no basis for it and it might make the writing experience more strenuous.
Dialogue -
Don’t stress about dialogue. It honestly can be really easy. I know it’s something a lot of people struggle with and hopefully this helps.
Casual dialogue can be hard to get right, I know. Take inspiration from real life conversations. How do you talk to your family? How do you talk to your friends? Use that and incorporate it into your fics. Make it believable. We don’t want to see dialogue that doesn’t flow or seems robotic, which can be easy to do. We want dialogue that seems realistic for that person to say.
For example, when you toalk to your friends, you probably use slang like “gonna” / “kinda”, so don’t be afraid to use that in dialogue - you want it to sound natural (although I’d avoid using fillers if you can). Hermione might use the word ‘hence’ but would Fred or George? It’s brilliant to use words like this, but don’t lose your characters in it. Save these words for your descriptions.
When it comes to more formal dialogue, just think how you would act in that particular situation, whether it’s with a teacher/boss/person of authority. But also, don’t lose the character in the speech. Hermione is probably is going to talk to a teacher much differently than Fred or George. A teacher however, will always talk to their students the same way unless they know them personally.
Don’t forget to use a variety of replacement words for ‘said’ or ‘say’. While these words are perfectly fine to use, I recommend using others too, to keep it interesting but also to convey your character’s emotion or how they’ve said it.
Descriptions -
This is something I feel like writers get so well in some areas and forget about in other areas. Anyway, here we go:
Don’t just tell us two characters are in love, show!!! us!!! — these two people in love, well, are they blushing/stuttering/ being bashful/flirting? What’s their body language like? How do they differ around this person to someone else? When you’re in love, or have a crush on someone, these things change around that person. Most of the time we don’t want them to, but they do which is why we’re so aware of it. Not only this, but how does the character feel about their change in personality/body language? Does it make them more nervous/angry/confused? Don’t just tell us, prove it to us. Especially if it’s the reader that feels this way, we want to feel they way you’re telling us we do.
Don’t just say they’re at the Black Lake (or anywhere else), show!!! us!!! What does it look like? Is it night/dusk/dawn/morning/noon? If it’s night time or early in the morning, what’s the temperature like? Perhaps the temperature can link into the plot. They’re going to this place for a reason, remember, so use this to your advantage. Are their birds? What can you hear? see? Make this scene come alive for us, make us feel as if we’re there. This isn’t usually where writers trip up, but sometimes it’s easy to forget things as basic as descriptions because we’re so wrapped up in the plot.
Dont just give us a story with dialogue saying ‘he did this’ , ‘she did that’ , ‘you did this’ - Where are we/what are we doing/how are we feeling/are we in school? Is it day/night/sunset/dawn? What are our surroundings? Describe what you can hear/see, don’t forget about the senses. Use as many as you can. Make us feel as if we’re there, engage us. Sight and sound are most often used but don’t forget about touch and smell. And even taste, though there’s going to be fewer situations this can be used.
What are the reader’s emotions, another character’s emotions? Why are they feeling this way? Don’t forget, there’s not just happy and sad, there’s anger, jealousy, frustration, despair, upset, depression, hunger, energetic, excitement. Humans have such a wide range of emotion, don’t forget to use them and make us feel or empathise with these characters/the reader.
Alright, I hoped this helped someone? Anyone? If you want me to touch on other areas, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask and I’ll try to help you out. Same goes with something you think I’ve missed on here. Feel free to reblog this as well!
#writing advice#advice for writers#fanfiction advice#fanfic advice#writing fanfic#dialogue ideas#advice#fanfiction#lena vents
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Aizawa fic - CH 5 - Entrapment
18+ ONLY! SFW (for now)
Shouta Aizawa x Villian!OC/Reader(?)
CH1
CH4
Okay this chapter kinda fucked me up. I got very emo while writing this lmfaoooo, but again sooooooo sorry that I’m so inconsistent, I care about this story and I want it to actually be good before I post ((also I have the shittiest laptop on the face of the planet so I can barely use it)) more like I just dont have the patience to deal with it XD, mais oui! le chapter is done! Please enjoy! x
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The chair I’m strapped to is stiff and uncomfortable at my back. I haven't been able to move for awhile and it’s driving me fucking insane. My back aches, my thighs are sore, I can literally feel my pelvic bone, not to even mention the cracked rib still throbbing and I’ve started to remember the broken nose I gave myself. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight, I can’t really seem to focus on the questions I’m being asked, let alone my answers. I’ve been here for hours, maybe days. I have no clue. I have absolutely no fucking clue. This dumbass, Detective Aiko just comes and goes, sometimes followed by a short man with a clipboard and glasses. He just asks a few questions and leaves, I’ve lost track of how many times he’s entered and left as quickly as he comes. This time he comes in dragging another metal chair and flips it around on the other side of the table, sitting on it backwards, like he thinks he’s fucking cool or something. He’s large, I’ll give him that. His thighs swallow up the chair easily and I’m surprised he can actually sit on the thing.
I look at him with my tired eyes. We’ve been at this too long, I’m so fucking tired and I can hardly hold his eye contact. My lips are so unbearably chapped they feel like they might split open at any moment, they might have actually, I can taste iron. I’m parched. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I’m about to crack, I can feel it. “Water.” My voice is tiny at this point, crackly from the dehydration. “I need water.” My eyes start to sag and I press forward slightly, straining against the straps on my torso, skin raw beneath them after so much of my writhing.
Detective Aiko blinks at me from across the table and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He easily taps one forward and plucks it from the box between his lips. I can tell it’s a practiced movement, he does it without thinking. His habit has become muscle memory. He shoves the pack into his pocket again and retrieves a zippo lighter. If I was more conscious I probably would have rolled my eyes, if it didn’t feel like they might fall out of my head if I did. Of course he has a zippo, ugh. It’s like he learned how to be a cop from watching cheesy cop movies. He flicks it open and closed in a split second and the cigarette is lit. He takes a deep breath, sucking down the entire thing, inhaling so deeply that his chest puffs and swells almost double. He holds that breath for a long moment, releasing it slowly. I expect the smell of burnt tobacco, but there is none. The smoke pours from his nostrils in thick swirls, but it dissipates quickly, without a single trace that it had once been there.
I can see his eyes go glassy from the nicotine high, his shrouded eyes have barely left me. He stares at me like I’m a caged panther; cunning, dangerous, volatile. All things I might have been if I could possibly think straight. “You’ll get your water after you cooperate.” He shifts in the chair slightly, flicking the used cigarette butt to the side. It falls to the ground unceremoniously and I can only imagine how often he flings those things haphazardly and how many thousands he has personally littered into our environment. I’m instantly seething again. A moment ago, I had no capacity for anything really, and now I’m filled head to toe with rage towards this stupid fucking cop. This man withholding my fucking water, my fucking life source.
The thought that he’s actually killing me passes and I pull at the cuffs around my wrists. “Fucking water.” The chains scrape across the table and I can feel the blood on my mouth, my lips have definitely cracked in multiple spots, blood pooling between my teeth. “I fucking need water!” Now I’m just shaking the chains, trying to make enough noise to get him to give in, annoy him into submission. “Water!” His eyebrow twitches, he seemingly has a very short tolerance for my behavior now, no longer amused by my sass and antics.
He quickly rises from the chair and kicks it to the side, it goes clattering against the wall and loudly falls to the ground, tipped on its side. The sudden jolt silences me and the room is tense with the lack of sound. “Who do you work for?!” He yells at me, full chested. The same question Eraser Head asked me in the alley. Where my allegiances lie. There’s another moment of silence before I bust into intense, manic laughter. They still really think I work for someone?
My throat threatens to give out on me, but I can’t control the laughter. “Me, motherfucker!” I shout back, only not as full, my voice is dying quickly, my laughter soon falling with it, replaced by a hacking cough that I’m pretty sure just shredded the dry skin inside my very dry throat. That doesn’t really seem to satisfy him though. He just grunts and picks the chair back up, setting it upright, but not sitting down in it like before. He just stands there, so tall and trying to be intimidating.
He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs at me just once. “So we’re gonna keep playing this game, huh?” He pulls out another cigarette and huffs it down just as quickly as the first, barely even savoring the drag. His eyes close and he shrugs. “I guess you don’t want that water.” He quickly strides out of the room, leaving me alone and tortured. I can’t move, my body is giving out, I can’t speak because of my hoarse, abused throat, I can’t do anything at all, but sit here. My mind flashes back to when I felt this way before, tied to a dining chair in front of my drunk birther. My eyes start to water and I am amazed that I even have the moisture left in my body to cry. The parallels are too similar and I can feel myself reverting back, the whimpering that’s beginning in the back of my throat. A couple tears start to fall and I’m slowly slipping into that mindset when I hear the door open again.
I try my best to harden my face, trying to mask the depravity that I had just been wallowing in, refusing to make eye contact with Detective Aiko as he rounds the table again and sits in that chair. He sets something on the table and I’m surprised when I look up, to see Eraser Head sitting in that chair across from me instead. There’s a water bottle on the table and I honestly have nothing to say. I’m overwhelmed by this change of events and the tears come faster now, silently streaming down my face. I feel so vulnerable and this man that I have only prodded and teased is the one here to help me. It’s like the universe is laughing at me, it feels like a trick, but one I’m knowingly and willingly letting myself fall into. I suck in a deep breath, hoping he won’t say anything about my tears. “They haven’t cleaned you up at all, have they?” His voice is low, but he honestly sounds concerned. I lamely shake my head, unable to tell him that I’ve been sitting strapped to this chair since the moment he left. He grunts shortly then stands, slowly grabbing the water bottle and cracking the lid open.
My tears lessen as I watch him, he’s looking at me like I’m a wounded animal and deep down I can’t blame him. All I’ve done since meeting him is lash out and hurt him. In spite of all that he reaches out to me slowly, the cold water bottle in one hand, the other gingerly gripping the side of my neck and tilting my head back. I look at him hesitantly. I’m just supposed to let him pour water into my mouth? That feels too weird, and intimate, and needy, but I can’t really pour the water into my own mouth, so I part my lips for him. He gently presses the rim of the water bottle onto my bottom lip, easing the cold, fresh water onto my sandpaper tongue. His fingertips graze the skin on my neck as the pad of his thumb softly wipes away my tears. It’s so gentle and intimate that I can’t help but cry harder. I’ve never felt such a sincere caress and it’s like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, astounded by the tenderness that I haven’t allowed myself to even realize I was missing. The silent resentment falling away for a moment and letting something new replace it. Adoration? Sympathy? Genuine gratitude?
I take in this new feeling hesitantly as I try to gulp down the water as quickly as he’s pouring it into my mouth. I relish in the feeling of the cool liquid on my tongue and into the back of my throat, soothing the burning I had endured for so long. The tears continue to fall even after the water bottle is empty and I realize his hand is still gently stroking my cheek in an attempt to calm my tears. He tosses the empty water bottle aside and peers down at me. I stare back up at him, my eyes starting to puff up from the tears I had just shed, cloudy with the residual moisture on my lashes. He’s even more beautiful now than ever before, caring for me so tenderly, and I think I understand now. I love him. I must love him. The way I was drawn to him before, it all makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like this before, no one has ever given me even a sliver of a second thought, but here he is. This man I don’t even know caring for a tortured criminal that’s done nothing, but awful things. It must be love. It must be... something at least.
I realize the moment’s been too long and I turn my gaze away, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Here he is helping me, giving me the water I so desperately needed and I can’t even choke out a ‘thank you’. Should I? Would he want me to? His hand falls away and I hear him start to shuffle to the door. Dammit. I’m breathing heavy, trying to catch my breath from the way I gulped down water like a dying horse. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.” I almost don’t hear him, but my eyes snap open. He’s coming back? To help me even more? Eraser Head is… going to tend my wounds… that I got fighting… HIM. This is all so bizarre and my head spins a little, but I can’t help the trace of a grin that tugs on my lips and the slight twinge of heat in my cheek.
I hear that knock on the door again, but before it opens I mumble out a small, drained. “Thank you.” My throat is still destroyed, but it’s enough that I hope he heard me. I guess I’ll never know if he did or even cared because the door opens and closes with no acknowledgment that I had said anything. Once again, I am left by myself, in this too bright room, strapped to a metal chair. As I sit here, it’s hard not to fall back into my miserable thoughts. Self loathing and what if’s come easily. What if that really was a trick? What if he’s never coming back? What if I just imagined the whole thing? What if he’s disgusted by me and just taking pity? I internally cringe at myself. That one is probably closest to the truth. He thinks of me like a charity case, someone who can’t help themselves. He’s a hero after all, that good ole savior complex will always rear it’s big, nasty head at some point. He’s helping me to make himself feel better, not to make me feel better. I sneer at myself. I almost fell into his trap, but no. I’m better than that. I was almost that dumb cunt I used to be, trusting people, needing others help. Fuck no. I promised myself I would never be that person again. I’m better now.
But then the indignation fades and all I’m left with is the reality of the situation. I do need his help. I’m broken and bleeding, strapped to a chair in an interrogation room. I start to cry again. It’s not a heavy cry, just one that makes you realize so much in such a short period of time. I cry as I realize I do need help. I need more help now than I’ve ever needed before. I’ve probably needed help this entire time and refused to see it, refused to ask for it. Asking for help never seemed like an option, it seemed like a burden. Yet, Eraser Head isn’t even offering me help, he’s giving it. Willingly. Of his own accord.
I continue to struggle with my thoughts on the situation far longer than I would deem necessary before I admit to myself it doesn’t matter because he’s simply not coming back. It’s been too long for him to have actually been going to get a first aid kit. He’s gone forever now. Poof. Might as well stop thinking about him. I can’t though. Can’t stop thinking about his perfect face, the way he touched my neck, the tenor of his voice, the scruff on his chin, the scar under his eye, the heat of his body behind mine. It all sends a thrill through me, but more than that, just a deep sense of longing. I yearn for him. I just want him to come back to me, I don’t care if he has the first aid kit he left for or not. I just want him to be present with me because everything just hurts less when he’s here. The open wounds mean nothing when he’s here. He’s the only reason any of my pain has ever been eased. I need him. I love him.
I start to allow fresh tears to fall, but my eyes are already welded shut from the fat tears I had shed earlier, too heavy to open and crusted over with dried tears because I still can’t wipe my eyes. The new ones gently come and allow me to crack open my eyes just slightly. I’m honestly on the brink of exhaustion, but my body has miraculously found a way to push forward. I’m taking a deep breath, trying to re-center myself. Get a grip on reality. Stretch my fingers and toes, get some feeling back in my aching body, crack my neck as best as I can. It’s not much, but it helps. I’m the only one that can do anything for me now. I start trying to survey the room to a closer extent than I had before, but honestly it’s still the same, too bright, all white room. I guess I can see a vent in the top right corner, but it’s too small for me to even think about escaping from. Not to mention, I can’t see a camera, so it must be in the corner behind me, watching, recording my every move. I grumble. There’s also the two way mirror, that I assume has had at least three people on the other side of it at all times. I’m completely under thumb.
I sigh, there’s not much I can do in this situation, and this dumb collar is still canceling my quirk. I’m chained up and defenseless. Fucking great. The door scrapes open again and I startled to see Eraser Head quickly invade the room, that wild look in his eyes again. The tips of his hair are flicking back and forth angrily, but not like it was before when he was erasing my quirk, more like… he’s just worked up. He’s breathing deeply, standing up straight and crossing his arms, a full 180 from his calm, gentle demeanor he had earlier. He’s actually quite intimidating like this and I start to shrink into myself, not knowing why his mood has changed. I didn’t do anything. He looks to the door and reaches out to flick his wrist in a ‘get the fuck over here’ motion. Detective Aiko comes into the room and unlocks my cuffs, releasing my arms from the table. He seems reluctant and I’m insanely confused by this sudden turn of events. My eyes are wide and I look to Eraser Head again, confusion evident on my twisted up face. “I’m taking you to the hospital. The collar will stay on and I will cuff you down when we get there.” He says it all so blankly and I’m even more confused that I was before he answered.
Detective Aiko doesn’t look up, he just grumbles out a gruff, ‘bad fucking idea’ before moving onto the straps at my torso, allowing me to pull away from the chair just a little bit. I struggle to force my muscles to keep myself upright, wanting to slump over and crumple to the floor. He undoes the one at my lap and I barely feel it because my entire bottom half has gone numb at this point. He lowers down further and unlocks the cuffs at my ankles, fully freeing me from the chair. I’m immediately elated to be liberated once again, getting overzealous and springing from the chair. Blood rushes to my head and my numb legs remind me how bad of an idea that is because I tip forward, falling into the metal table, the wind knocked from my lungs. I let out a wheeze and feel strong hands pull me back up onto my feet from my shoulders.
Eraser Head wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his hip to support my weight. I can feel his hero muscles swell as he pulls me off the table, shifting so we can shuffle towards the door. I’m still dazed and weak, trying to work with his movements instead of against them, but my legs can barely hold myself up and he ends up dragging me along with him more than anything else. My head is right next to his shoulder, tucked tight to his body and I press myself closer, nuzzling my cheek onto his collarbone. He feels so good against me. I’m so woozy, I feel like I’m dreaming. This all could be a mirage, I am dehydrated as hell. But it feels so real and so good that I just submit to it immediately. I press even further, trying to get up to his neck. Trying to be closer. The moment crashes around me in an instant as cuffs fall around my wrists. Damn. It’s Detective Aiko standing behind me, cuffing my wrists together and ruining the moment I was just having with Eraser. I glare up at him and he just ignores me, squeezing the cuffs tighter, too tight. I yelp, but he just looks over to Eraser Head like, ‘Really?’. Eraser grunts and holds his hand out for the key, he still has that wild look in his eye and I realize now that it’s pointed at Detective Aiko. HE’s in the doghouse, not me. Well, I am still arrested, but it doesn’t really feel like it when Eraser Head is personally escorting me to the ER, cuffs or no cuffs. Detective Aiko drops the key into his outstretched hand with an eyeroll.
Eraser Head spins me around, so I’m facing forward. My head is still dizzy, but my legs are starting to get some feeling back and I’m able to stand on my own now, even if I am a bit wobbly. He pulls me close to him again, gripping my bicep with one hand and supporting my weight with a hand on my hip. He’s taller than I remember him being. Glancing over my shoulder, I have to look up at him. His jaw is set, clenched with the anger he’s trying to hold back, silently seething. He’s still eyeing Detective Aiko with a menacing nature, I know his quirk is eye related, but it seems he also has a natural affinity for staring anyways. I watch him tuck the key into his front pocket, then grip my arm again, his hands are so large. I gulp, now realizing my ass is basically pressed up to his hip. He’s still taller than me, it's more like his thigh, but that doesn’t change the fact that my ass is on this man. My mind goes crazy as he holds me there, having some kind of stare down with Aiko. Neither of them has moved, but after a moment the detective shifts back with a grumble. Eraser Head grunts and guides me forward, supporting me as we exit the interrogation room.
Eyes follow us as Eraser Head leads me out of the room and down the hall. The receptionist at the front desk gasps when she sees me walking (semi) free. I can tell they all know who I am. I can tell they’re all scared of me. I don't need my quirk for that. I take advantage of the tense scene before me and grin, lurching forward at the woman sitting at the desk. Eraser Head is still gripping me firmly, so I don’t make it very far before he yanks me back to his body, but I do make it far enough to scare that bitch gawking at me. She screams and drops the phone receiver in her hand, stumbling backwards. I didn’t really expect such a dramatic reaction, did she really think I was gonna rip her head off or something? I’m fucking handcuffed… and doesn’t she fucking work at the police station? She should be used to this by now, why is she so fucking scared? Dramatic bitch.
Eraser Head pushes me forward, obviously still riled up from previous events. I stumble forward a bit, but his grip on me is so firm I couldn’t fall if I wanted to. We continue walking through the waiting lobby, until we reach two large glass doors. Outside the doors, it’s day time, probably late afternoon by the look of the sunlight. I take a deep breath, ready to take a step out those doors, ready to leave this awful fucking place, full of these awful fucking people. Eraser presses the handicap button and the door swinging open, the air is warm as we step out and it’s a little joy in this shitty situation that I bask in for a moment. When we step onto the sidewalk, I look up at Eraser Head. This protective stance, the hand on my hip, if I just ignore the handcuffs it’s like we’re a couple on a stroll. I smile up at him, thinking about how sweet he looks with his hair catching the late afternoon light. It’s golden hour and it settles on him nicely, highlighting his stark features. His eyes flick down to me and an expression of genuine surprise passes his face for a split second. He looks away quickly, a blush coating his cheeks, but his face returns to its stoic default.
We continue like this for a moment until we come up on his vehicle. I’m not sure what I expected, but a small wave of sadness washes over me as he opens the rear door, shoving me into the backseat. I didn’t really think he would put me in the front with him, but this feels so… impersonal. I guess that’s what we are. Impersonal. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. I slouch into the black leather of the car and pout to myself, feeling defeated. Eraser Head buckles me into the seat, leaning over me with his whole, big body. Heat floods my stomach and suddenly I’m feeling something… else. I huff, breathing in his scent, I can still smell the bergamot on him, but the other scent on him still eludes me. It’s sweet and musky, almost earthy. He pulls away before I can breathe in again, shutting the door on me, boxing me into this car alone again. He’s in the driver’s seat about 4 seconds later, but the silence of being alone again still stands out to me. I shake my head, and try to focus on the sounds of the car as he roars the engine to life and pulls out of the parking lot.
Thank you for reading! :)
I love reading yall’s comments so please leave a note for me! (see that double entendre hehe im so smart)
but seriously, thanks for the love and the followers especially for only one fic
(also I hope u all can tell how much I fucking despise the cops for this chapter)
#Entrapment#YOU GOT OUT!#kinda#i would genuinely throw hands at aiko so just know im fully about that life#gratatatataaaaaaa#acab#aizawa#aizawa shouta#bnha aizawa#aizawa x reader#mr aizawa#bnha#bnha oc#bnha x reader#bnha shouta aizawa#fanfiction#fan fic#my hero fanfic#mha fanfiction#fan fic author
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Just some lil' Observations During My 17 Billionth Rewatch of Fellowship of the Ring
Okay so in the prologue, for some reason I never paid attention to how many active verbs are used to describe what the ring does and how it goes about it's lil life. I don't often think about the powers and personality of the ring very much, I'm usually to distracted by my love for frodo ha
"It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life." Love love love that, somehow never really heard that line before.
Uh oh. I'm becoming that person that unconsciously quotes all the lines as they're spoken.
I wonder if bilbo would've been a different old man if he hadn't had the ring in his pocket for decades
Tbh I am very impressed that bilbo just dropped to ring and walked out. Obviously it took some help by gandalf but still, to be able to leave it behind after all that time. Such a comforting thought to my poor little heart that hates to think about how long the Martin Freeman bilbo was slowly poisoned by the ring
Yall. When I was a kid the black riders gave me nightmares, and now they are like 0% scary
I've related to different characters over the years, but u know what I'm realizing that maybe I'm sam. bc I too would walk to the ends of the earth for frodo baggins.
Dear lorddd. That seduction of the ring theme - the one that plays at the v beginning of their journey as they're walking through the tall clovers and weeds under the trees - gives me chills every time. The use of voices in howard shore's score is MAGNIFIQUE
"If I take one more step it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been". Have any of yall seen the 9 hour version of the movie that plays that clip every time sam takes a step?😂😂
Am I upset that they replaced merry and pippin's dedication to frodo and the journey in the books with comedic relief stealing-the-crops stuff? Overall not much. I think they get the characterization they deserve over the course of the movies. Ppl can just chill and let the movie be a movie. Tbh we need some comedic relief from this very stressful epic
Am I upset they cut tom bombadil? Also overall no. Again, for the sake of the movie, they gave us some stress relief with merry and pip and streamlined the journey to bree enough to where an extra stop for some reprieve wasn't needed. Dont get me wrong, it's a lovely part of the book, but I agree with the directorial choices to keep the movie's energy up
THE REFLECTION IN ARAGORN'S EYES WHEN HE LIGHTS THE PIPE. CINEMATIC MAGIC. also I'm just generally attracted to him anyway.
Me anytime viggo says or does anything:
Arwen's sword under aragorns chin is THE best introduction to our first legit female character I could ask for
OH MY GODDDDDDD. I think it's probably Elijah's hobbit-height double that viggo is carrying to the horse, and dear God that mask on him is so freaky looking 😂😭😂 Never ever seen that before
One thing I am just ever so slightly salty about is that they had the council of elrond be summoned to determine the fate of the ring rather than everyone coming on their own accord with their specific knowledge to lead to the collective realization that they are exactly the right group of ppl to form the fellowship
For the rest of my life, I am doomed to only think of the LOTR How It Should Have Ended during the council of elrond scene. 12 year old me really screwed herself by watching the same 5 YouTube videos on endless repeat
The solo French horn that plays the gondor theme while boromir is speaking is so subtle but increeeeeeeedibly powerful. It's just different enough from the other themes introduced so far that for that moment it takes me so much deeper into the world of middle earth ??
Just noticed the wink between gandalf and elrond when aragorn offers to help frodo. Their last conversation ended with "he turned away from that life long ago. He has chosen exile" and now aragorn is giving up his preferred solo life for the sake of frodo and for the world. Look how the turntables, elrond
Boromir's lil "sorry!" when he accidentally cuts Merry's hand 😭
"Boromir! Give the ring to frodo!" "As you wish." Boromir loves aragorn
The humans carrying two hobbits at a time to keep them safe from the snow😭😭😭
Literally Gandalf can you please just tell frodo that there is a balrog down in moria!!! This is not informed consent!!!!
Lake monster outside moria = aquatic sarlacc
We as a Society™️ need to spend more time listening to gandalf's words to frodo while chilling in moria
The chanting during the chase in khazad dum gives me similar vibes as the "track down this murderer" voices at the end of phantom of the opera. ..uh oh so I'm getting too tired to elaborate on my thoughts
I've watched Gandalfs 'death' too many times that it's not the fall itself that makes me cry anymore, but it's frodo's reaction outside that gets me now. Also the soprano voice singing (renee fleming?)
Oh my god I just heard for the first time boromir's line in lorien "i did not see it", referring to Galadriel telling him there's still hope for his people. That's the same thing he says right before he dies and I finally understand what he meant. He tried to take the ring from frodo bc the ring overwhelmed him completely with a sense of despair, convincing him that using the ring was their only option to survive. And oh my gosh it's how galadriel knew that boromir was going to try and take it. She knew he had lost hope. Wow it took me waaay too long to catch that. It's the specificity of it all that I didn't catch, not necessarily the fact that boromir thought the ring was the only way
Boromir's death hit different this time yall. With a better understanding of what was going on in his head, just ..... I may or may not have cried a lot more than usual
Soooo strategic of howard shore to have let a long time pass without hearing the Shire theme before it plays when frodo and sam hug on the boat. Every. single. damn. time. that moment gets me. The power of MUSIC people.
Aaaaaaaaaand credits roll
#dont judge me for realizing these things so late#the problem w seeing a movie in early childhood for the first time means that my brain has found rhythms of the details it pays attention to#and literally ignores everything else#🙃#but it's also the joy or rewatching!#always something new#lotr#fotr#lotr: fellowship of the ring#fellowship of the ring#frodo baggins#samwise gamgee#gandalf#boromir#aragorn#viggo mortensen#ian mckellen#tolkien
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