#the context of the scene doesn’t make this any better
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I decided to make Hades stand up and…. Rachel wtf is this?!! She’s literally crotch height and he doesn’t even fit in the frame!!!
I had to crop half of the original panel and move it down just so his head would fit.
#the context of the scene doesn’t make this any better#Rachel please watch something other than Lolita#I’ve e waited over 4 months to be able to post this shit#anti lore olympus#lore olympus#lore olympus critical#lore olympus criticism#lore olympus persephone#lore olympus edit#webtoon#lore olympus hades#rachel smythe#lo persephone
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IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him
AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!
tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously
user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god
user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways
user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better
➥ user4 well someone had to say it..
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.
It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.
The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.
Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.
You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.
Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters
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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her
user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS
user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹
tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth
rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊
user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol
➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”
➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8
tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️
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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single
user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??
user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵
ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts
user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg
ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!
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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too
➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED
user14 literal unbothered icon i love her
user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”
iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY
lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻
➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate
user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot
tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso
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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth
user18 ok who’s cutting onions
user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS
➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐
user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys
user22 parentssss
rachelzegler my favorites
ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS
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tomblyth yn, i love you but
➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence
user24 the second pic thank u yn
joshandresrivera on top of u maybe
➥ user25 IM DYING OML
user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fluff#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus snow fic#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games
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Mastering the Art of Dialogue
Dialogue is the lifeline of any narrative. It brings characters to life, propels the plot, and creates depth in the story. However, writing dialogue that feels real and engaging can be challenging. Here are some tips to help you refine your dialogue-writing skills:
1. Listen to Real Conversations
The foundation of great dialogue is authenticity. Spend time listening to how people speak in real life. Notice the flow of conversation, the interruptions, the ums and ahs, and the unfinished thoughts. Real speech is rarely grammatically perfect or fully articulated. Incorporating these nuances can make your dialogue more relatable.
2. Each Character Should Have a Unique Voice
Your characters should be distinguishable by their dialogue alone. A teenager will speak differently from an elderly person; a doctor will use different terminology than a street artist. Think about their background, education, and personality. These factors should influence their speech patterns, vocabulary, and even the rhythm of their dialogue.
3. Use Dialogue to Show, Not Tell
Dialogue is a powerful tool for showing the reader what’s happening without explicitly telling them. Through conversations, you can reveal your characters' thoughts, feelings, and intentions. For example, instead of narrating that a character is nervous, you could show it through their stammering dialogue or their avoidance of direct answers.
4. Keep It Concise
In real conversations, people often meander through their thoughts. In written dialogue, however, it's important to be concise. Every line of dialogue should serve a purpose, whether it’s moving the plot forward, revealing character, or creating tension. If a piece of dialogue doesn’t add value to your story, consider cutting it.
5. Read Your Dialogue Aloud
One of the best ways to test your dialogue is to hear it. Reading your dialogue aloud can help you catch awkward phrasings or unnatural speech patterns. Better yet, have someone else read it to you. This can provide insight into how your dialogue will sound to your readers.
6. Use Subtext to Your Advantage
Not everything needs to be said explicitly. Subtext—the underlying meaning behind the spoken words—can add depth and complexity to your dialogue. Characters might say one thing but mean another, based on their emotions, relationships, or situations. This layering of meaning can make your dialogue more engaging and thought-provoking.
7. Balance Dialogue with Action and Description
While dialogue is critical, it should be balanced with narrative description and action. This balance helps maintain the pacing of your story and ensures that your scenes are visually and emotionally compelling. Action and description can also provide context that enhances the meaning and impact of your dialogue.
Conclusion
Great dialogue can transform a good story into an unforgettable one. By applying these tips, you can craft dialogue that captures the essence of your characters and engages your readers on a deeper level. Remember, writing is a craft that improves with practice. Keep experimenting with your dialogue, and don't be afraid to rewrite until it sounds just right.
Writing dialogue is a skill that can be honed over time. The more you practice and read, the better you'll become at capturing the essence of conversation on the page.
#novel writing#writer#writing#writing advice#fiction#creative writing#writeblr#tumblr writers#writing tips#writing community#writers of tumblr#slaying fiction#writing dialogue#dialogue
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Daylight
Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here).
A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.
The sunlight wakes you the next morning.
It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.
Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.
That seems more likely.
You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that.
The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.
But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.
You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.
You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.
Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”
“Really? That was rude of him.”
“Very.”
He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”
Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.
7:38 am.
“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”
Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”
“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”
You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”
“I’d never,” he says.
“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”
You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”
You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.
“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.
“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”
You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.
You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.
You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.
“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.
“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.
“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”
He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”
“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”
His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.
“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit
You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.
“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”
“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”
You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in.
“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”
Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.
Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.
“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”
Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”
He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.
You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.
“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.
It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.
The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying.
You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.
“All right?” he asks softly.
You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.
It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.
“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.
Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.
But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.
It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.
The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.
Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).
But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.
“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.
“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.
“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”
You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.
“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”
You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.
“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”
You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.
You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.
His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.
It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”
You grin. “Not even a little?”
He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”
His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”
He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”
“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.
The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.
The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.
“You are way too good at this,” you say.
“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”
“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”
He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”
“We’ll see.”
The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.
His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again.
“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.
“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.
“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.
“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”
“We are already running late—”
“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”
“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”
“I’ve waited so long, darling.”
“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.
“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.
You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.
Fuck.
You are definitely going to have sex again.
His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.
“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”
And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.
It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.
Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.
He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”
You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”
He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”
“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.
Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”
“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”
“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”
“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.
“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”
Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”
“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.
Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”
Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.
“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”
“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”
“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”
You blink at him. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.
“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.”
“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”
“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.
“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”
Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”
Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”
“You’re taking his side?”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”
It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.
“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.
You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”
“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”
“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”
“To sleep?” you tease.
“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”
The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.
You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”
#loki smut#loki x reader smut#loki x reader#loki laufeyson smut#loki x female reader#loki x female reader smut#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#tva loki x reader#overtime series
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ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)
I just finished the season, and holy shit!
Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:
“Sokka is no longer sexist”
I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.
In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.
Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.
“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”
That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.
“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”
This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.
Plot:
The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.
Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.
Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.
Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.
This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.
This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.
Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.
I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.
Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.
June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.
The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.
They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.
They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.
There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.
Shipping:
Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.
They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.
Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.
Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.
Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.
The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.
Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.
Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.
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can we get even closer?
detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader (pt. 3, finale!) ; smut, fluff
synopsis: spiderwoman becomes 10x more alluring AND convincing, detective park is completely disregarding the chief at this point.
wc: 11.7k
warnings: blood ; mentions of wounds, cuts, bruises ; smut!!!
pls read for context: pt.1, pt.2
the crime scene was a messy tapestry of deception and disorder.
jihyo scanned the mess of a venue. there were flipped-over tables, pieces of chairs, and debris scattered all over the venue—even a light had fallen from the ceiling—it was a sight.
the cluttered, frenzied scene wasn't even the worst part; to tell the truth, what made it worse was seeing her colleagues all stuck together tangled up in spiderwebs against the wall.
the chief included in the mess.
the chief was tangled up alone, arms and legs restrained with only his head free. he seemed infuriated; this does not help your case. the chief will hate your guts even more, and if he catches you, he might rip them out.
jihyo has her final conclusion made up in her head after fully processing the mess in front of her: you have one functioning brain cell.
the officers and chief aren't the only ones captured, there's an apparent culprit tied together in a large, thicker layer of cobweb: the lizard.
it's green, it's ugly, and it's huge—jihyo furrows her brows at the sight—but her face lights up when she sees the familiar silhouette of the special spider-like "hero."
you stand there in front of the grotesque reptile, gazing at it with slumped shoulders and heavy breaths. you're exhausted and aching from the very physically demanding task. on the bright side: there are no broken bones or any limbs missing—that's a plus—though there are a few scratches that rip the new suit you had just gotten. you sigh at the thought of having to face your suit designer nayeon. you really don't want to hear her complaints again.
the thought of nayeon yelling in your ear distracts you from the blood that seeps out the cuts on your body and the pain from the sore areas that will surely be dark, annoying bruises—though the thought of that nayeon pulling at your ear and bickering with you doesn't distract you forever, the discomfort in your abdomen returns and you almost fall over.
screw that ugly ass lizard.
jihyo runs over to your side, looking at your weary state.
"y/n-" jihyo catches herself, immediately quieting down when uttering the last part of your name. she watches her words even if she's not in the field of vision of the officers, they still have ears afterall. "spiderwoman, are you okay?" jihyo asks, looking at the cuts in your suit.
"yeah." you respond, and you're lying your ass off because you think you might fall over soon. "just a bit beat up, could've been worse."
“you think a stab to the stomach is comparable to a paper cut. " the detective sighs, “that doesn’t make this any better.”
it’s evident in her tone that she’s worried. your heart feels heavy knowing that she feels like that for you, but you don't want to overwhelm her anymore. you put your hand on her shoulder and her eyes soften. her look almost hurts more than that stupid pain in your stomach.
"park," you say softly, "i'm fine."
“you’re not.”
"i need to change back and leave, keep an eye on the lizard?"
"y/n-"
"it's spiderwoman." you say sternly. your voice had lost any hint of playfulness, now it’s more of a croaked-out, low tone.
"sorry, i just-"
"let's talk later, yeah?" you urge. jihyo nods with disappointment.
you smile as you shoot a web up, looking at her with the same softness before pulling yourself and swinging away.
jihyo's jaw tightens up.
you don’t break into jihyo’s house or even show up at the department for four days and counting. that’s 96+ hours of jihyo not seeing you, of her having all these questions swarming in her brain with no answers and 96+ hours of missing you. detective park is running out of patience.
jihyo spins the pen in her hand while examining the papers related to the “lizard” case, i mean, there’s not much to do since the lizard-man had been captured after turning back to normal, but jihyo had to do a brief check before going back to the prison to interrogate the human form of that nightmare.
the identity of the lizard was found after it had transformed back into a slender, fragile man: dr. watanabe, lead scientist at minatozaki industries and former friend of the chief.
the chief seemed to be slowly losing it after the whole event—who wouldn’t be after having to ask your detective to cut you and the rest of your coworkers out of the spiderweb that was shot from the wrists of the person you went on a whole tangent about not trusting—exactly.
it’s been hectic.
the detective shoves the papers back into the folder before heading into the room that holds the visitation booths, which is empty and only has one guard present. she runs a hand through her hair before nodding at the guard and sitting at booth three.
her foot taps at the ground as she waits—not because she’s anxious—it’s just a habit she’s had since college.
there’s the sound of the door opening and not even five seconds later the scientist sits in front of her. he looked terrible: bags under his eyes, brows creased, and hair disordered—that’s not like him at all. jihyo takes out a paper from the folder and holds the black telephone handle close to her ear.
“you’ve finally agreed to talk.”
“against my will, where’s the chief.” watanabe spits back through the line. jihyo shoots a look that has the scientist shrinking in his seat.
“not here.” she says sternly, “now i would really appreciate if you could be competent since you’ve caused so much trouble.”
“bring me that damn chief and i’ll talk, they said he’d be here.”
“he’s not here, so quit whining. i have some questions that you need to answer, i’d advise that you respond well and with a compliant attitude.” the detective warns threateningly.
the scientist makes eye contact once with jihyo then looks back down, ready to answer with his hand clutching the telephone handle tightly.
jihyo ends up leaving the visitation booth with sluggish shoulders and a paper with rushed, messy jotted-down notes of the criminals’ answers and puts it in her bag. once she steps outside into the afternoon light, she’s quick to stretch out her arms, groaning at the relieving sensation.
“hi.”
that voice is very familiar.
the detective turns and her eyes widen at the sight of you. you’re standing there with a smile, warm and friendly.
a dark, navy sweater sits loosely on your figure, and your hair is tied up. you look beautiful, and not as beat up as jihyo figures you should look (i mean, you literally had a whole wwe match with a lizard a couple days ago, so it’s surprising to say the least). you seem content, you seem perfectly fine and jihyo hates that you haven’t bothered her. where have you been?
jihyo stares at you in awe, well, maybe with some confusion and a hint of anger too. she wants to ask where you’ve been, i mean, it’s been days and you haven’t knocked on her window, she had even waited by that stupid window of hers with the hope that you’d barge in. she wants to ask how you’ve been doing, if your injuries been bothering you maybe and if your cuts healed. jihyo wants to know everything, from how you’re doing physically to what’s going on in that smoothed-out brain of yours. (jihyo has many questions, too many, and it has her silent in her place while she gapes at you.)
you play with the neckline of your sweater. “it’s getting pretty cold, huh.”
jihyo thinks you’re unbelievable.
“where have you been?” jihyo asks, walking up to you and pushing you playfully (fighting the urge to hold your and look at you with desire like in those cliché romance movies where the leads love interest shows up after being missing—or something like that at least. [park jihyo watches too many dramas]) she furrows her brows a little, looking at you with a tad of shock in her expression.
you tilt your head and ask, “why are you looking at me like that.”
“you’ve been gone for what, four days?” jihyo says, raising her brows. a couple people passing by glance in your direction when jihyo raises her voice, but she doesn’t care, that’s the last thing she cares about. “you haven’t called, texted, or even showed up to your own uncles workplace! you haven’t even-“ and jihyo cannot believe she’s about to say this: “you haven’t broken into my apartment or anything!”
a short silence fills the air before your eyes soften the same way they did before leaving jihyo at that venue—right after finishing up your business.
you let out a brief, soft sigh. “i’m sorry, it’s a lot.”
“yeah, it is.” jihyo huffs, losing the worry in her tone as relief fills in.
a grin plays at your lips, “i did say i would explain everything,” you start, “and i did say i’d take you out, and on me too…”
jihyo crosses her arms and mumbles, “you did.”
“that’s only if the detective would let me…?”
the weight on jihyo’s shoulders is completely knocked off and she chuckles at your response, quickly losing the serious façade.
“i have to drop this off at work, maybe i’ll let you once i do.”
you grin. “great.”
you end up as passenger princess in jihyo’s white, glossy bmw.
saying the car is nice would be a huge understatement. the interior is even more fascinating compared to the exterior, and that says a lot. the seats are clean, comfy, and from the texture, you can tell it’s authentic and expensive leather. the car is pretty spotless other than the water bottle in the cup holder and that reusable tote bag that seemed to have been thrown at the backseats blindly. the car smells fresh—something woody, minty, and there’s also a hint of apple—it’s welcoming and really fits the detective.
“comfy?” jihyo asks, turning on the engine.
“yeah.” you reply, feeling a little intimidated for no reason.
jihyo chuckles at you and shifts the stick, lightly steps on the gas, then looks at the screen in the car as she backs up. there should be no reason for this to be so attractive, i mean, you’ve seen many people back up a car, nothing special, but when jihyo does it you find yourself wanting her a little more.
the two of you end up at the department less than ten minutes later. despite how unbelievably close and flirty you’ve gotten with the detective; the whole car ride was way too intimate for your liking, and your nerves were a mess.
the car was so nice it had you feeling tense, jihyo was driving with such ease and looked so damn good with those sunglasses she had on. you felt small in the passenger seat. thankfully, you’re a few turns away from the department.
“i need to tell you something.” you say, making jihyo hum.
“what is it?”
“i can’t go into the department, i’m, well… i’ll tell you later but long story short my uncle cannot see me and i’m technically kind of on house arrest.”
“you’re what?”
“long story.”
the light turns red, the detective breaks smoothly then turns to look at you, curiosity and disbelief making her brows furrow.
“why am i not surprised that the chief would do something like that.” jihyo sighs, looking back at the stoplight—it’s green now. “he’s been on edge lately ever since the incident, he’s probably just anxious.”
you chuckle and shake your head, “he’s something…”
not too long later, the two of you find your way over at a café nearby and situate yourselves in the balcony area on the second floor.
jihyo holds a mint-colored latte cup in her hand that’s filled with a simple, hot mocha. she takes a sip and a bit of the steamed milk coats the top of her lips, she licks it off subtly. you smile before taking a sip of your own drink, some type of seasonal latte that has hints of apple and cinnamon.
“i missed you.” you say, looking down at the slightly distorted latte art in your cup. jihyo looks at you then smiles, a tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she turns her head to take in the view of the farmers markets nearby.
“me too.” she sighs, “i was… i haven’t been as tired lately, so i waited near my window for some spider to knock on it—she never came.”
you frown. “i wanted to. i’m always one to help people and try to not break the law, but i can’t help it when it’s you.” you respond jokingly.
jihyo smiles at your playfulness, happy to be spending time with one of the people she’s grown close with, as well as the hero she’s been secretly crushing and interacting with.
“can i ask how long you’ve been, you know…”
“couple months.” you reply, “remember how i told you about getting bit by the spider?” you ask, jihyo nods and you begin again, “i got bit a week after i moved here, and then i started sticking to things, accidentally broke my doorknob—oh! i was also watching this scary movie one time and got scared, after that i couldn’t see myself in the mirror.”
“that’s a lot.”
“yes, too much.”
“so… what happened with you and your uncle?” jihyo questions, wondering why she’s been spiderwoman-deficient for the past four days.
“oh yeah,” you respond, “well, he found out that i got hurt—not because i was y’know, doing my little hero thing—but he saw the blood and some of the injuries. he went on this tangent about me staying safe, he’s just been on edge and very protective. he doesn’t want me leaving the house. i’ve been working from home.”
“you couldn’t sneak out?”
“he had detectors, it took me a bit to mess with it. i took some engineering classes in high school and had some mischievous friends, so i ended up cheating the system.” you explain. jihyo nods, raising her brows at how capable you are; you’re quite impressive even if someone were to snatch your spider abilities away. “so, what’s been going on with you detective? fill me in.”
jihyo sighs, shaking her head softly.
“your uncle has been on edge, it’s strange.” she says, “usually these types of cases don’t phase him, but he’s shaken up.”
“maybe it was me trapping him in cobwebs—too much?”
the detective shakes her head again. “no, i don’t think so, but that was stupid on your end. he’s just been terribly paranoid; i’ve never seen him so tense.”
you furrow your brows and take another sip of your beverage before raising your brows as if you had an idea, “maybe it has something to do with the scientist?” you suggest, and you ponder before speaking again, “i remember my uncle having lunch with the scientist a couple months ago, he came back from the lunch all tense and a bit angry—even snapped at me for something. it was strange.”
jihyo’s expression lights up, “you’re on to something… that scientist did ask me to see the chief multiple times… and watanabe is clearly hiding something.”
“you think we should reunite them? maybe find out more of what’s between them?”
“it might be a good idea.” the detective mumbles, swirling remnants of her drink in the cup. you bite the inside of your lip and hum again,
“let’s try it, i can talk to the chief.”
“you’re on house arrest.”
“spiderwoman can do it then. she’s not on house arrest.”
jihyo’s eyes widen at the suggestion, and she looks at you like you’re crazy. “you’re insane.”
“maybe chief l/n will listen to me if i’m sweet with him.”
“he could body slam you to the ground.”
“maybe he could do that to y/n, but not spiderwoman.” you beam.
“no, maybe spiderwoman too.” jihyo shakes her head and simply sighs, “you’re actually the dumbest person i know.”
“you into that?”
the mask on your face is new, so is the suit (you were able to contact your suit designer via email and after seeing jihyo you got your much more durable suit—that is, after getting scolded by the fashion designer.)
you spot chief l/n in the office alone, it’s quite late anyway, a little past when you’d usually have dinner. your uncle examines a paper with furrowed brows and a pen in his large, aging hands. he looks pretty focused—you take it as your cue to invite yourself into his large office.
when the chief hears a small thud, he’s immediately on guard. he puts his hand over the gun strapped under his desk and scans the room: there’s no one, nothing, but he’s not convinced.
“i’m not fucking stupid.” he says coldly, “show yourself or you’re going to regret a lot.”
his voice is low, deep, and threatening. it’s worse than when he scolds you, much worse and you think you might be lucky that his most angry tone with you is less frightening than how he’s talking to you now.
you’re invisible, he can’t see you at all. the chief pulls out his gun from under the table and holds it with precision, aiming and scanning the room once more for any sign of someone. the gun in his hand is knocked out with a spiderweb and the chief halts, stiffening in his place.
you unveil yourself and the chief spots the familiar vigilante stuck to the ceiling, though that same vigilante who had terrorized him a couple days prior is wearing a new suit.
“hello chief.” you greet, making sure you alter your voice.
the tall, bulky man grimaces when you release yourself off of the wall and land on the floor of the room.
“spiderwoman.”
“nice to see you too.” you say, “i’m not going to hurt you or anything, i’m just uneasy around guns.”
“yeah, sure.” he scoffs, “you’re up to something.”
“god- no!” you groan, losing patience. the chief drops his stern demeanor for a second when you pinch the bridge of your nose, it almost convinces him that you’re just a simple human under that suit. “i’m trying to get more details on the lizard, and i need your help.”
“that lizard… he’s behind bars.”
“but that’s not it and you know it.”
“get out my damn office. i’m not afraid to fight you, i don’t care how many webs you trap me in.”
you sigh again, growing even more impatient. the chief glares at you when you do so.
“look—the people, the citizens, families and friends—they’re all in danger if you’re not competent,” you explain. your uncle drops his serious expression and his shoulders relax just barely.
“and i should just tell you why, huh? so you can do who knows what with this information? i’m not stupid.”
“you’re getting on my fucking nerves though and you’re being a prick that’s what you are.” you respond with irritation, and the tone of your retort reminds the chief of a certain someone he knows very well. “you think i saved that whole venue for shits and giggles? i left there with a broken rib and more bruises and cuts than i can count on one hand. i don’t know how many people i have to save or buildings i have to stop from collapsing to get you to understand that i’m not the fucking villain. look, watanabe is eery, there’s something i’m missing on this whole case because that damn scientist has been reluctant to give answers due to some tall ass man-baby of a chief that not only refuses to see the what, barely average height scientist, but the same chief who won’t fucking comply to this ‘vigilante’ because of his foggy little brain.”
the chief looks at you with surprise now, mouth slightly agape.
“i’m—i’m sorry?” he says with uncertainty. your uncle decides to swallow up his pride and prejudice, you sound like his niece and he starts to soften up. “fine. only if it helps.”
so rambling was the only thing that you needed to get him to comply? you’ve been wasting your time, too much time.
“why does watanabe want to see you.” you ask, observing the way your uncles eyes hesitantly avoid your gaze.
it’s quite strange seeing your uncle so sheepish looking, so submissive and not in the way he looks when your aunt scolds him for not eating, but he looks almost vulnerable.
“we-” he pauses and his shoulders drop just barely, “we used to work together. now that he’s behind bars i can’t compromise my position.”
“how does it compromise your position?”
“i’m a big guy, a big, bulky guy. watanabe and i used to be friends and… he asked for my dna samples and whatnot. look, i might’ve…” the chief sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “i gave him some and i don’t know what he did with it, but now that he’s behind bars i think it’s something bad. i don’t know, i’ve never been a science freak.”
“okay so he has your dna, what are you looking so scared for?” you ask,
“i’m just wary… i don’t know what he can do with it—what he has done with it.”
you ponder for a bit and look at the anxious chief in front of you, who looks less intimidating than ever in front of you. why would watanabe need his dna?
“well, he’s behind bars, so no need to worry about anything for now yeah? i’ll investigate this myself.” you assure. you expect an inquiry, a response or something—but the chief simply nods and huffs.
“yeah alright.” he sighs. you shoot a thumbs up and hide yourself in transparency, that’s when you hear small—but noticeable in the silent ambience—words of gratitude. “thanks for taking a weight off my shoulders.”
you really have to stop breaking into jihyo’s home—well, it’s more of you jump scaring her and then her letting you in—so is it really a crime if there’s implied consent to enter?
jihyo opens the window for you and sighs, “i have a door you know.”
“too much work.”
“and swinging to the tenth floor of my apartment building is less work?”
“more exciting!” you beam, “and i like your little reaction, it’s cute.”
jihyo rolls her eye at your little remark and you climb in. she watches you pull off your mask and tuck some of your messy hair away, her eyes linger a little before she turns and walks back to her stove.
“whatcha cookin’?” you ask, sitting on the counter of the little kitchen island.
“avocado toast with eggs.” jihyo responds, not turning around.
“how healthy.”
“did you need something?” she asks, sliding the spatula under the eggs before flipping it over and cutting the heat.
“do you wanna break the law?” you ask. jihyo turns around and the expression plastered on her face screams:“are you dumb or stupid?”
“you’re seriously asking me this?”
“okay technically it’s not fully breaking the law,” you start, “just… doing something that might be an invasion of privacy.”
“that might be breaking the law, stupid.” jihyo snickers, smiling at the idiot in front of her.
you’re wearing something comfy yet professional looking: a pullover with a dress shirt under and some simple dress pants. the detective wonders if people saw you swinging around like that—the only thing masking your identity being the mask you had taken off, and without the mask jihyo can see you with the nerdy-looking glasses you put on earlier, and the smile plastered on your face. you’ve got a cute grin.
“you never said no.” you shrug.
“i’ll lose my job.”
“no you wont. just let me explain?” you plead. jihyo sighs, crossing her arms while leaning against the counter next to the stove; all of the detectives’ attention is on you now.
“thanks lovely.” you say, and the little remark makes jihyo’s cheeks flush just barely. “okay so i had a little talk with the chief last night, turns out watanabe has his dna and my uncle’s on edge because of that.”
“okay…”
“i work for the same company, meaning i have a keycard. that also means we can investigate a little more and find out what the hell he wanted to do with the chiefs dna.” you explain, “it’s technically your job to do all this investigating and if you think about it: i’m just a loyal citizen helping out the hottest detective in the force.”
jihyo uncrosses her arms and puts her hands on the counter gripping the edge. you watch the way her arm tenses and wow she’s toned. the detective looks down and shakes her head, smiling.
the shorter woman turns back around and pulls out a piece of bread from the toaster, then uses the spatula that rested on the plate to put an egg on the toast. she hands you the plate and you turn your head, but take it nonetheless.
“eat up, gotta have energy to ‘kinda’ break the law.”
your eyes light up and you almost gasp, “you’re going to do it?”
“you get me to do the craziest things.”
you smirk and respond, “and if i were a crazy thing?”
jihyo looks you in the eye and smiles. “i could put you on my to-do list then.”
you had offered to swing out her window with her, but jihyo denied, and you teased her the whole way down to the parking lot.
now you’re playing passenger princess (pt. 2) and watch jihyo shift out her parking space, which is a sight. there’s something enticing with her movements, the way she carries herself, and her confidence.
when you reach the building—the large, modern-looking building with a café that keeps your coffee addiction thriving—jihyo gazes for a bit, clearly impressed.
“never been here?”
“no, i have, just never had time to fully take in everything.” she says, “it’s very nice.”
you smile and open the door for her, she rolls her eyes and walks in—you follow behind.
there are a few familiar faces in the building, some people rushing around and others conversing—it could be mistaken as a lobby at some college, jihyo looks around and is taken aback by the lively atmosphere.
“there you are, where have you been?” a recognizable voice scoffs. you turn to your left and see nayeon, smiling cheekily as she walks towards you and jihyo. you roll your eyes playfully and scoff playfully,
“been avoiding you.” you respond jokingly, and nayeon just laughs.
“who’s this? your girlfriend? been skipping work to be with her or what?” nayeon asks. her inquiry takes both you and jihyo by surprise, making both of you blush.
words stick to the tip of your tongue for a moment and jihyo puts out her hand for nayeon while you compose yourself. “detective park.” she introduces.
nayeon raises her brows and shakes her hand, then looks at you with a quirked brow and the look in her eyes seem to convey an “ooh~” before she responds to jihyo. “im nayeon.”
you clear your throat after they shake hands, “it’s nice to see you again i guess.” you say to nayeon, “but i have to go up and grab something, i’ll see you.”
“yeah yeah, see you. i was on my way out anyway—don’t blow up anything.” she sighs, and you scoff playfully. the two of you smile at each other mischievously before nayeon heads out the doors.
jihyo laughs and you raise a brow, watching her as she shakes her head.
“got all flustered from her asking if i was your girlfriend? what happened to the confidence from before?”
“shut up.” you respond, “let’s just go.”
jihyo laughs as you walk towards the elevators—she can’t see you, but she knows you’re blushing like an idiot.
the two of you reach the 7th floor and jihyo follows you out the elevator.
as you and jihyo make your way down the dimly lit corridor, a sense of anticipation fills the air. the tension is palpable as you approach the lab room. fumbling in your pocket, you retrieve a keycard, silently emphasizing the need for caution as you unlock the door. "stay by my side and stay quiet. we're not supposed to be here," you mumble, voice low and careful.
entering the room, you both are immediately struck by its sheer size. you’ve been here once with another scientist from the company, though only for a brief moment to retrieve information for your article. it's not just a regular room; it's an enormous space dedicated to housing the scientists' most precious possessions—their files, research, and invaluable data.
as your gaze scans the shelves, your heart skips a beat before settling on the section that holds the coveted information you seek. the lights are dim, making it difficult to distinguish one folder from another, but thankfully you’re spiderwoman; your senses are already much more advanced than any person.
with each folder you come across, you murmur the words written on their labels. jihyo watches you intently, captivated by your unwavering focus. there's a certain charm in the way you immerse yourself in the task at hand, it's adorable and there's an undeniable allure to your commitment that draws her in.
“they’re all in alphabetical order… t… u… v… hmmm—ah! w!” you beam. you snatch the folder that reads “watanabe.” a contagious smile dances across your lips, your elation mirrored by jihyo.
“is that what we need?” jihyo asks, turning her head.
“yeah, this is one of the more important files, it has a lot of his research and experiments. i’m also going to look for-“
before you can finish your sentence, an unwelcome intrusion slices through the air, mingling with the palpable fear creeping into your senses when you hear the low tap of footsteps outside the room.
the threat of being caught floods your mind, driving you into spontaneous action. quickly, you take jihyo’s wrist, urgency pulsating through your grip, and scan the room frantically. from the corner of your eye, a small closet appears. you bolt toward it and drag jihyo with you, then close yourselves inside.
you’re in your head trying to listen to the sound coming from the corridor that you don’t realize the compromising position you’re in.
silent seconds stretch while you two stay cautious and awareness dawns upon you, and your breath halts. one hand is unintendedly situated on the curve of jihyo’s slender waist and the other still grips her wrist. her back is pressed against the closet door, and your senses collide with her proximity, faces and bodies inches apart.
(with how quiet it is in the room, you wonder if whoever was lurking would catch you just from the pounding of your heart.)
you loosen your grip on her wrist and whisper, “sorry.”
“you’ve got a good grip.” jihyo mumbles, “and it’s okay.”
the air hangs heavy, thick with tension. you glance downwards and you’re captivated by the intensity in jihyo's eyes—intimidating and enticing even in the darkened room—and an irrepressible impulse surges within you.
jihyo lets out a shallow breath and peeks at your lips, you take a quick glance at hers before you two gape into each other’s eyes again.
now it’s jihyo’s turn to hold your wrist, and without conscious thought, your heart pounding an adrenaline-fueled rhythm, you lean forward, closing the remaining distance until your lips press against hers.
it’s soft and tender at first, then warm and thrilling. you pull away for a brief moment to utter and apology, which is muffled after jihyo crashes her lips back to you with a doubled intensity. you hum in response and she pulls you closer, making you lean down to match her height.
in the muffled silence of the closet, time becomes a mere afterthought, eclipsed by the pulsating intensity that engulfs you both. the world outside fades into oblivion as your lips meet again and again after parting to tilt your heads in the other direction after a few kisses, and after a couple more you’re changing kissing angles again.
jihyo’s hands trace over your chest, then to your shoulders and at last: your neck. she grips at your hair, tugs and pulls while simultaneously leading the kiss—she’s naturally one to take control. she swipes her tongue against your lip and you let her tongue explore your mouth, earning various hums and small groans.
you pull away to catch your breath and jihyo stops you before you can kiss her again, placing her hand on your chest and adding pressure to it to restrain your eagerness.
“sorry,” you say, cheeks flushed and breath heavy. “too much?”
jihyo laughs softly and shakes her head before responding, “not at all, y/n. it’s just, we should be careful… don’t want you to be too loud—yet. let’s continue later.” your cheeks flush from her remark and jihyo laughs lowly after hearing your breath quiver. “do you think whoever was walking is gone?”
“i- um, i’ll have to listen closer.” you mutter.
jihyo’s hand still rests on your chest, right above your heart—which is beating at an unhealthy pace—and jihyo doesn’t comment on the noticeable pounding against her palm. you pause for a moment and really concentrate your sense of hearing, listening on anything going on outside. jihyo lets you work your magic and smiles when you hum.
“no one outside, it’s clear. i’ll turn invisible and you know, check it out. i’ll let you know if you can come out; when i knock three times then that’s your cue to leave the closet, yeah?” you explain.
jihyo nods and says, “sounds good spiderwoman.” which earns a small chuckle from you. some light seeps in when you open the door, letting jihyo have a glimpse of your face: cheeks tinted pink, your ears are a darker shade, and the smirk on your face is smug.
you plant a kiss on her incredibly soft lips before disappearing from her sight, and jihyo hears a small “cute,” before the door closes. she’s left in the dark closet alone with a warm feeling in her chest—though it’s soon replaced with the realization:
oh my god… i just made out with my boss’s niece.
when you and jihyo reach the floor of the lobby, you two act like you haven’t just violated the privacy of a (now criminal) scientist.
there are two folders, a binder, and some samples from who knows what that were hastily placed inside your bag when you first got into the elevator. the two of you head towards jihyo's car, acting as if nothing has happened, despite having committed something slightly very illegal.
the detective closes her doors and you mirror her action once you sit down, and as you both put on your seatbelts jihyo scoffs, “i can’t believe you got me to do this.”
“it’s for my uncle, and you know, just in case.” you assure, looking at her as she grips the steering wheel a little tight. “in the end i think he’ll be grateful, and it’ll help with the case.”
“i know.” jihyo says, “he can be scary.”
“i’ll take care of him, okay?”
“okay.” she responds before shooting you a small smile, which makes you smile back in return.
when you reach jihyo’s apartment, you take off your jacket and hang it on the hooks on the wall. jihyo does the same with her own jacket and you meet at her kitchen island.
you take out the stolen goods from your back and drop them on the marble counter, jihyo turns on the lamp above to make it easier to read and see. jihyo stands across from you as you take out each file and skim through them, watching your eyebrows crinkle from concentration.
four pieces of paper are taken out of one of the binders—three of them being stapled together—and you quickly read through them. then, you place them on the counter, and your eyes scan the title of a sample before laying it next to the papers.
“this is it.” you sigh, looking down at the messy tapestry of notes and diagrams.
jihyo tilts her head and questions, “what?”
“my uncle’s dna. there’s notes on it and everything, it’s all scribbled here—look.” you respond, flipping the paper over and pushing it towards the detective. jihyo’s eyebrows reflect yours and furrow as she reads the text. her shoulders relax and she turns the paper over to read more, eye’s widening a little as she reads.
you pick up the sample and examine it a bit more as jihyo reads through. she looks back at you and says in disbelief, “watanabe tried to make human lizards?”
“pretty much.” you reply, “my uncle’s a big, bulky guy… watanabe probably tried to fuck with the lizard dna and his genes to make something relatively close—but thankfully, it didn’t work. here, this paper shows the trials and whatnot.” you add, handing jihyo the non-stapled paper.
jihyo sets the small packet down and reads through the one handed to her, examining the various angrily crossed-out sentences, numbers, and notes. she hums at the sight.
“so there’s nothing to worry about?” the detective asks. you nod and respond,
“no, thankfully. i’ll probably show up as spiderwoman and leave a little note to the chief, i should probably get to that soon—tonight.” you admit, leaning against the counter. “i’ll leave you alone for now, sorry for making you do all of this.”
you don’t want to leave, that’s the last thing you want to do. the small silence after you utter your last sentence urges you to pack up and leave, even if the thought of continuing whatever happened in your closet flooded your mind.
“wait,” jihyo says as you start to trudge away towards the window, and you pause in your place as soon as you take a step on the carpet on the floor.
you raise a brow in confusion (hoping jihyo read your mind). “yes?”
“just stay, the sun is already setting.” she says boldly.
“my uncle would kill me, i’m on house arrest.” you sigh, “getting these to him as spiderwoman would get me off house arrest.”
jihyo frowns and you mirror her expression. “you really can’t stay?” she asks, brows creasing just barely.
“i would if i could.”
“well,” jihyo starts, walking over to you. “before you jump out the window,” she mumbles, now one step away from you. she places her hand on your chest and looks at you with a warm softness in her eyes. she tilts her head, then leans up to press her lips against yours, less aggressive than in the closet, but just as nerve-racking—making your heart beat quicken just from the simple contact.
you practically melt when she kisses you, and your hands instinctively reach for her cheek, cupping it gently. time seems to hesitate when she puts her arms around your neck, and you make sure to savor the taste and feel of her lips on yours.
jihyo pulls away first, but only a little so your lips still brush against each other.
“jihyo…” you mutter, and you can feel her smiling against you—her grin spreads to your own lips.
“if you’re off house arrest tomorrow… we should—”
“yes, please.” you say, “anything you want.”
“didn’t know a kiss was enough to have you so eager.” jihyo snickers gently.
you smirk and press a quick peck. “oh i can be eager—if that’s what you want?”
jihyo rolls her eyes at your stupid (yet tempting) response and pulls away so she can see your face clearly. she gazes at you for a bit, simple appreciating your presence and the faint dimple that appears on your cheek as you smile at her. jihyo fixes your hair, pushing away strands that fall over your face.
“you’re an idiot.”
“you love that though.”
“a lot.” jihyo responds, then presses a kiss to your cheek and smiles. “now go get yourself off house arrest.”
you grin. “yes detective.”
the chief stands at his desk and puts on his coat, then gathers all the papers he had already gone through in his bag. on his desk, a folder suddenly drops down with a smack and the chief jumps, letting out a small yelp.
“hi chief.” a voice says. the chief looks up and he watches the familiar vigilante become translucent, then fully visible after unveiling herself. spiderwoman releases herself from the ceiling and lands on the ground with ease. “gotcha’ some things you’d probably love to look through.”
“what the hell spidergirl—”
“please, i know i’m supposed to mask my identity, but spiderwoman is better. c’mon man, i’m in my twenties.” you groan. the chief looks at you and shakes his head, then picks up the folder that had scared him half to death earlier.
your uncle furrows his brows slightly as he reads the papers (same as jihyo did, you note. at this point everything is reminding you of her—even the bulky man in front of you).
“where— where did you get this? how—”
“told you i’d check it out. nothing to worry about chief, just wanted to ease your worries.” you shrug, “i told you i’m not the bad guy.”
the chief examines you for a moment, looking you up and down before his shoulders drop. he puts the papers back in the folder and stares at it for a couple seconds, exhaling in relief.
“thank you.” he says, “i was… really on edge.”
“anytime.” you say, smiling from under the mask. the chief walks up to you, looking down and narrowing his eyes before softening his gaze. he puts his hand out and you look at it in surprise—as well as confusion.
“let’s keep contact, spiderwoman.” the chief says, “maybe you’re not so bad.” he adds. you hesitate for a moment and stare at his hand for a moment longer before shaking it. the chief doesn’t break your hand, doesn’t pull you in and throw you to the ground—he shakes it professionally and nods. “you’ve earned my trust.”
you want to lift your mask up and show him your proud smile, and a part of you wants to reveal yourself.
“i’m glad. i’m just your friendly neighborhood spiderwoman after all, harmless!” you beam.
“that’s debatable. i saw what you did to that monster.” he responds. you catch the faint twitch of his lips: an almost smile.
“how else could i save everyone?”
“i guess you’re right, get going kid, sun is setting.”
“i told you i’m in my twenties!”
“you really remind me of someone i know spiderwoman.” he says with a breath of amusement, “have a good night, thank you again.” he finally adds before grabbing his bag. the chief walks past spiderwoman without body-slamming her or anything like that; the tall, hefty man simply walks out and leaves spiderwoman speechless.
that’s all it took to get on his good side?
jihyo walks into the building and the routine is the same as always: she greets the front desk lady—rachel was her name, she’s sweet and always has a smile on for anyone talking to her. after her usual friendly greeting, jihyo walks over to her desk and greets the rest of the team.
as jihyo sets her bag down, a familiar face appears and greets the detective.
“hello park, morning.” francis beams, smiling softly at jihyo. francis was one of the newer cops, he was pretty young for one—but great at his job. jihyo was quite fond of him, he was nice and competent.
“morning, how are you?”
“good, good.” he says before yawning, “glad it’s friday.”
“me too.” jihyo responds with a laugh, taking out a few reports from her bag and turning on the computer in front of her.
the detective turns back to the monitor in front of her and gets to typing, looking down at the paper and back up to the screen as she types various letters, numbers, and who knows what at this point.
her mind is completely foggy, she tries to get some work done, tries to copy down the reports and examine them. the only thing she can really focus on is the memory of your lips on hers, and whether you’re off house arrest because she really needs a continuation of what happened in that damn closet.
jihyo flinches at the sudden sound of the voice she’s been missing most and looks down at her desk to see a 16oz paper coffee cup on her desk.
“morning detective.”
“jesus!” jihyo yelps, “don’t do that!”
“i thought you’d get used to it by now.” you snicker. jihyo smiles as you pull a chair up next to her and sit down, sipping on your own beverage. “i’m off house arrest.”
“i can see that.” jihyo sighs, though the tone of her voice doesn’t match the way her heart warms upon your arrival. “shouldn’t you be at work?”
“technically it’s an internship,” you respond, “but i guess it’s my job now, seeing they pay me more than some of the actual employees.”
“well whatever it is you should probably be at the building, no?”
“i have work in less than forty minutes. do you hate my presence that much?” you question, a pout forming. “didn’t hate it that much yesterday—"
the detective punches your shoulder and you wince playfully before jihyo rolls her eyes and takes a sip of the coffee you brought her. “you’re loud, too loud for someone who’s my boss’s blood relative.” she scolds you lowly and sets down the beverage before redirecting her attention back to the screen. “and no, i don’t hate your presence, just don’t want you slacking or getting scolded.” she admits, a smile threatening to form on her lips.
you laugh and gaze at her for a moment, taking in the slope of her nose and catching a glimpse of the small mole on the tip of it. your eyes trace the sharp curve of her jaw, and then your look sets on her lips—the taste and feel lingers in your mind. jihyo pretends to ignore your blatant stare.
“i’ll stop bothering you for a bit, should probably get going anyway and let my favorite detective get to work.” you mumble. jihyo turns as you begin to stand up and furrows her brows. she looks to around quickly and grabs your wrist, making you turn and hum in confusion.
“wait,” she starts, trying to keep you close to her for just a while more, “i just printed something, you should come with me before you go.” you smile at her suggestion and set your coffee down on her desk, then nod.
the walk to the printing room is quite silent, nothing is said or heard other than the click of jihyo’s boots reverberating. when you get to the small room, a man walks out and smiles at jihyo before holding the door for the two of you. the detective smiles back before going in, with you trailing behind.
jihyo goes to the screen of the printer and taps at a few buttons, then sighs, “out of paper, come with me to get some.”
“yes ma’am.”
the paper and supplies room are two rooms down from the printing area, and so the two of you walk down the hall then into the room.
jihyo opens the door and you enter first—what catches you completely off guard is the way your senses are quickly overwhelmed.
without warning, your back is pushed against the closed door and you’re immobilized by jihyo’s body pressing against you. before you can comprehend what’s happening, her warm, soft lips press against yours with a slight aggression and it makes you groan immediately.
your hands find their way to her waist, the other on her upper rib to push her closer into you—craving the warmth and feeling it gives you.
something about making out in a dimmed, small room feels right to the two of you; you’ve made out twice so far and both times have been in relatively similar spaces. this won’t be the last time you make out in a small space.
jihyo pulls away and your brain is hazy, you immediately move yourself closer to capture her lips again.
“fuck,” you sigh in between kisses, “what’s with the sudden—” you get cut off with another harsh kiss, making you groan louder into her mouth. jihyo’s tongue finds its way into your mouth and your hands find their way to her skin, and it makes her shiver from the contact.
every nerve in jihyo’s body wakes as soon as your lips come into contact with her neck, and she stifles a groan when you start to nip at it.
“no marks, not now.” she says dissapointingly.
“later?”
“maybe.” she says, and immediately, a sharp breath leaves her lips when you add a bit of pressure on her waist, squeezing it gently.
a sudden shift in the atmosphere tingles your senses, making your lips detach and actions halt. you shiver at the feeling, instantly pulling away from jihyo and trying to compose yourself.
“someone’s coming, act busy.” you mutter quickly before turning on the light and pretending to busy yourself by reaching for papers on the shelf.
the door opens and you almost flinch at the familiar voice that greets the two of you.
“y/n? jihyo? what are you two doing here?” the chief asks. both you and jihyo stiffen at the sound of who had almost walked in on you. jihyo clears her throat abruptly.
“ah, l/n. i was printing something out and y/n decided to help me out.”
the chief chuckles, “y/n, when do you have to clock in?”
“thirty minutes, figured i’d waste a bit of time with park.” you shrug, “i always make it on time.”
the chief laughs and jihyo tenses her jaw slightly as she smiles at him, fixing her hair and jacket she has on. “well,” the chief starts, “grab me some sticky notes while you’re over there, i’ll let you two converse.” he adds. you nod and grab a stack of pink sticky notes—his favorite color—and toss them at him.
“there you go old man.” you tease.
“watch it,” he says playfully, “and are you sick? your cheeks are so pink.”
again, you and jihyo tense up—you clear your throat before responding, “there’s dust here, i sneezed and rubbed my face too hard.” you lie, almost stumbling over your words when you glance at jihyo.
the chief nods and sighs, “well, don’t get my detective sick.” and with that he exits the room, shutting the door harshly (he’s oblivious to his strength at times), which lets you and jihyo sigh out in relief.
“we need to get a room.” you groan,
“yeah.” jihyo laughs, “are you free tonight?” she asks, and it makes you look at her in surprise, cheeks warming up once again.
“only if you are—and if no one tries to rob a bank.”
jihyo laughs and responds, “i am, and i might just have a room.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.” jihyo says, smirking. “if it means anything, my window will be unlocked if someone wants to swing by.”
“hmmm, i’ll keep that in mind.”
jihyo’s jaw tenses and she looks at you in a way that fills your nerves with temptation. “good. now let’s print these out, i need to hand them to the forensics.”
jihyo hums along to a tune playing from her phone as she wipes down the counter next to the stove—it’s a slow melody, something fitting for the dimmed room and quiet night.
she hasn’t seen you in a few hours—though it seems like decades—so she’s cleaning up and wandering around to pass the time.
when she finishes cleaning her countertops she walks over to the sink to wash her hands, still humming along to the melody that fills the room with a soft ambiance. jihyo turns off the sink and the unexpected feeling of two large hands on her waist makes her shriek and turn around quickly.
she calms down when she’s met with your grin, but her irritation quickly replaces the relief and she punches your rib lightly; you wince at the feeling dramatically, clutching your side and pouting.
“hey! what was that for?” you groan, and it makes detective park smile.
jihyo crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “you’re going to kill me one day y/n.”
“aw, am i making your heart beat that fast?”
she punches your shoulder again and says, “oh shut up.” you grin at her cheekily.
jihyo takes a moment to examine you and somehow you’re cuter everytime she sees you. you’re wearing some comfy looking navy sweatshirt paired with black sweatpants, how adorable.
the mood in the air shifts when you run your eyes up and down jihyo, and she seems to have gained some of her own powers from the way she reads your mind. you lick your lips swiftly and smirk—it’s not a big one, but the slight curve of one side of your lips is noticeable.
“i told my uncle i’d be staying with a friend for the night,” you explain, and the tempting look in your eyes is replaced by curiosity with a hint of wonder. “i brought some drinks, got a sweet tooth?”
“i can’t pass down drinks from you.”
“you like strawberry soda?” you ask—jihyo hums. “good. i um— thought… maybe we could watch a movie—or just talk? i don’t know honestly, i’ve just been wanting to see you.” you admit, “i realized we haven’t really had time to you know, go on a date and just hang out without any of it being work or crime related… i wanted to be with you.”
jihyo laughs and she feels her heart thud against her chest. “you’re cute.”
“thanks, but you’re cuter,” you reply, which makes jihyo blush and she tries to hide it by walking over to her living room area. you follow behind and she sits down on her couch, patting down a space for you.
“didn’t know spiderwoman was so romantic.”
“hey hey… spiderwoman is a lot of things.” you huff.
you and detective park—no, just jihyo, sweet, genuine, and crazily pretty jihyo—talk for an hour. it starts off with you explaining that you earned the chiefs trust, then it goes on to complaining about said chief, nothing too new though laughs are shared. jihyo complains about her job and the paperwork that’s been piling on her desk and you complain about your side hustle; jihyo is attentive, listening to you ramble about your spiderwoman story of the recent (and very pretentious) group of high school boys who tried to rob a gas station.
talking with jihyo feels easy, it’s not like you have to force yourself or exaggerate anything; conversing with jihyo feels right.
the whole hour of you two simply sharing sodas and drinks leads to scooting closer, shoulders touching and heads leaned back against the top of the touch.
when silence floods for a bit after you share another anecdote, jihyo takes this time to blatantly admire your face—keeping her look on your lips for a couple seconds longer than the other features.
it’s you who closes the distance this time, no words need to be exchanged when you finally do what the both of you have wanted to do: simply lock lips.
“fuck i missed this,”
jihyo smiles when she pulls away. “it’s been a couple hours, y/n.”
“one minute is already too long.” you mumble before kissing her again.
this time your kiss is slow and soft, not the same crashing of hungry lips against each other, it’s soft, sweet, and you two take your time since there’s no risk of being caught. no rush at all.
in contrast to your previous (rushed, aggressive, and heated) kisses, you both take your time to really appreciate each other’s intimacy.
the new comfort and absent feeling of cautiousness lets you savor the feeling of jihyo’s lips on yours: warm, soothing, and everything you didn’t know you needed. you taste the faint hint of strawberry off her while she cups your face, sliding her fingers to the back of your neck and rubbing her thumb against your skin.
a few minutes (you guess it’s been a few minutes, cant be that long, no? it’s been thirty minutes) pass and the two of you have your hands roaming around, the kisses get needier by the second.
hunger hurriedly takes over and you’re practically eating other’s mouths in no time. despite the change in pace and intimacy, you’re perfectly fine with it; if anything, it’s perfect how it escalated from a simple sweet kiss to whatever is making your cunt throb.
you blindly shift yourselves and jihyo backs up to lay down comfortably on the cushions of the couch. one thing you that made your breath uneasy was the way jihyo tangled her fingers in your hair, especially the way she tugged at it occasionally. her hand rested on your neck at first, then she moved it down to your waist and slid her nimble fingers under your sweatshirt, making contact with your skin. you whimpered unintentionally at the sudden contact, which was not only amusing—but also incredibly alluring to jihyo.
“you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you?” she mumbles, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face. “i think it’s cute how you’re on top of me, but you seem much more shaken up.”
you try to respond to jihyo, but a lump forms in your throat when she pulls back a little more and looks at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world. jihyo slides her hands further up near the middle of your ribs, making your breath hitch.
“didn’t know you’d be this easy to rile up spiderwoman.”
before you can try to respond, she closes the gap you groan into her mouth. with a swift press of her fingers against your skin, you part your lips for her to explore your mouth, then push yourself closer to her. her touch sends a shiver down your spine and the way her tongue takes over in your mouth drives you fucking crazy.
she makes her way down to your neck with soft kisses serving as a trail, then nips at your skin softly, eliciting a soft, breathy “fuck” from you.
jihyo pulls away and you whine. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and looks into your eyes before mumbling, “you’re cute.”
you smile and your lips meet again, you pull away to murmur against her lips softly, “bedroom?” and jihyo hums in agreement.
the two of you get up from the couch, but your lips are almost unable to part from one another for more than five seconds. you bump into the walls clumsily, which makes you two laugh even as you groan into each other’s mouths—it’s all so heartwarming and cute—and soon you manage to make it to jihyo’s room.
now it’s jihyo’s turn to press you against the door again. you curse lowly as she marks up your neck again and try to feel for the light switch against the wall; you manage to light up the room despite your eyes closing from the overwhelming feeling of jihyo’s skilled lips.
she pulls away for a second and asks, “are you sure you want to-“
“fuck yes, please.” you answer immediately, then cut her off with a hungry kiss that leaves her stumbling back. you kiss her needily and fumble with the edge of her shirt before slipping it off, and when you pull away to gaze at her body you let out a breath of amazement.
jihyo laughs. “you kept teasing me about how i could undress you, but look who’s so eager to have me naked.” she asks, catching you staring at her in awe. you part your lips at the sight of her tremendously toned core and she snickers. “you like what you see?”
“love what i see,” you sigh, “shit, you’re beautiful.”
“let me help you out, i wanna see what’s under there again.”
with a swift movement, she slips off your sweatshirt and you’re both standing close to each other topless.
you were confident enough with your words and jihyo seeing your skin when you had that mask on, but now that it’s just you; you feel a little shy now that you’re a bit revealed in front of jihyo—despite still having a bra on—and you avoid eye contact.
her eyes soften. “you’re so pretty.” she sighs, then kisses you swiftly and sweetly.
the detective is a natural leader, and it’s showing now. she guides you to the bed while exploring the curves and grooves of your body, then she’s straddling you on her queen sized bed.
you pull away and jihyo looks at your dilated pupils—completely taking over your eyes.
“can i— can i take your bra off?”
“of course.” jihyo responds.
your fingers work to unclasp jihyo’s bra and holy shit you’re stunned. your eyes widen and you exhale in amazement.
as embarrassing as it is to admit, you’ve fantasized at the ungodly hours of the night and also during those boring moments at work about seeing jihyo like this. you thought you’d be fine in a situation like this seeing you’ve daydreamed about it—but fuck it’s better than anything you can imagine now that it’s really happening. you pause in your place, halting any action.
“cat got your tongue?”
“i— fuck you’re so pretty jihyo.” you sigh, “can i touch you?”
“of course,” and right after her approval your hand slides up from her waist to her chest.
the way she gasps as you brush your fingers over her nipple is music to your ears, and it does not help the way your cunt throbs. something about the way she groans roughly when you pinch her bud slightly makes you groan in response, muttering a small “holy shit” in response.
you press a chaste kiss on her breast and trail down with your tongue to swirl around the peak of her breast, taking note of what kind of action makes her breath shake the most. the only thing you want to do right now is make her feel good, make her feel the same as you.
“your tits are so fucking nice,” you say, and jihyo lets out a sound that’s a mix of a laugh and a moan.
a couple minutes pass of you shamelessly indulging in jihyo’s tits (something that you could get used to—something that you need to do often) and your lips find their way back to each other. then, jihyo pulls away and she look at you with lidded eyes.
“can i—”
“please,” you interject, “please.”
“whatever you’d like,” jihyo says amusingly, “let me take care of you. i’m gonna make you feel good, okay?”
you nod eagerly and she unclasps your own bra, biting her lip at the new territory revealed. she mutters a compliment and you simply whimper at her words. needless to say, your reactions have jihyo surprised and invested.
she works at your tits for a while, leaving a couple marks in between, under, and on them. you grip at her bedsheets and arch your back at the way she swirls her tongue skillfully around your sensitive areas, you’re practically drowning in bliss and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it most yet.
her lips leave a trail of pecks on your body as she lowers down, and when she reaches your soft tummy her hands tug your pants down.
“hyo, p—please…” you groan, “please touch me.”
jihyo hums and she presses a finger against your underwear, it makes your hips twitch.
she kisses your inner thighs and leaves you breathless, your eyes shut as you press against the mattress. she pulls away and slides your underwear off, tossing it aside carelessly and biting her lip when she meets your core.
a soft peck is pressed on your clit and you let out a stifled moan. gently, she slides her fingers along your walls. she smiles at how aroused you are, feeling the slick that dampens her fingers.
“god, you’re so wet y/n.”
“shut—shut up.”
“excited aren’t you?” she teases, “i like this side of you more than spiderwoman to be honest.”
before you can respond, she latches her mouth onto your pussy and the surge of pleasure makes you groan so loud that it even takes you by surprise. you bite your lip the more she lashes at your dripping center, sucking, slicking, and savoring the sweet slick that seeps out.
your hand immediately reaches for her hair the more she indulges in your pussy, and she groans against you.
you’re not sure how long it’s been since she went down on you, but you’re feeling that knot forming in your stomach the more she tongue fucks you and the more you whine. you’re completely lost in pleasure; a few points of contact from her nose to your clit and tongue to your walls and you’re sent over the edge.
a hoarse, strangled sound between a cry and a moan is heard from you, jihyo continues to savor your sweetness. you push your head back into the mattress and jihyo trails back up to you with kisses.
“holy shit,” you say breathless, jihyo grins while you recover.
“how was it?”
“i— think you know the answer.” you sigh as you prop yourself on your elbows. “i’ve um, i’ve thought about you like this before and— this is better than anything i’ve ever imagined.”
jihyo chuckles and you cup her cheek, then kiss her fervently. she hums into the kiss and you pull away, stroking her cheek with your thumb.
seeing as you’re spiderwoman, you’re naturally quick to recover. your hand moves back to her breast and you brush your finger over her nipple, earning a sharp breath from her.
“my turn to make you feel good.”
with a swift motion, you flip jihyo over and pin her down on the bed. she gasps at the sudden change, and before she has time to process much—you’re already occupied with her boobs.
blindly, you slider her pants and panties off with a quick motion and slide your hands up and down her legs. jihyo’s moans are on the louder side, and they’re strangled too.
you’re so eager to hear her come undone, so eager to leave her a mess. with thumb her clit once, then twice, and then stick your fingers inside—which has jihyo’s nails grasping at your shoulder and her breath shaking.
the more you pump in and out, the closer she is to breaking. you savor each and every moan that reverberates against the walls in her room, making sure the target the spots that make her curse louder than ever. her hands uncontrollably grip at your tricep, then your shoulder, and soon she’s gripping your hair, which has you groaning against her chest shamelessly while you mark it up.
“y-y/n, oh— i’m close, i-i’m— keep going,"
with the overwhelming sensation of your tongue swirling around her nipple and the way your thumb presses against her clit—she’s breathing heavily, shaking, and soon enough she’s trembling after a loud yelp. she mutters a string of curses and does what you had done before, sinking into the mattress and once you pull away from her chest to gaze at her; she pulls you in for a messy, sensual kiss.
the two of you stay like that for a while, kissing tiredly and sloppily before you fall over beside her on the bed.
“god, y/n…”
“did you like it?” you ask. the smug smirk on your lips makes jihyo sigh amusingly and she shakes her head playfully.
“of course i did.”
“we should…” you begin, “do this more often—if you’re fine with that.”
jihyo laughs and you lay your head on her chest.
“i’m more than fine with it, spiderwoman.”
when jihyo wakes up, she feels an extra warmth on the left side of her body.
she looks down and looks at the face squished in her chest which makes her smile immediately. you’re breathing gently and one arm is draped across her body, loosely resting above her waist.
“like my boobs that much?” she chuckles softly, tracing her finger along your soft skin. you grumble into her and sigh, waking up to the low sound of her voice.
you blink three times—though the first two times were slow and lazy—then shift closer into her. your hand presses her against you more, and you tangle your leg with hers before mumbling, “morning.”
she laughs at the lower tone of your morning voice and kisses your forehead. “good morning y/n.”
after rubbing your face against her shoulder, you push yourself up and prop yourself up on one elbow. jihyo laughs at your squinted, tired eyes before you tickle her with kisses on her jaw and neck.
“jihyo,” you begin—she hums in response. “do you think we rushed this?” you ask, referring to whatever relationship you two have now as you slide your along the skin over her ribs.
“hm, i don’t think so. you’ve already been saying a lot of suggestive things prior to this.”
“you liked it though.”
“maybe.” jihyo says, rolling her eyes. you drop back down onto the bed and return to nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, kissing it once before closing your eyes again. “y/n,” jihyo says again, this time with a tone that makes you open your eyes again.
“yes?”
“what would your uncle say if… if he knew his detective slept with his niece?”
now your eyes widen and your body tenses. “shit.” you groan. jihyo laughs and you sit up quickly. “how bad did you mark me?”
“let’s hope there’s a store nearby that has concealer in your shade y/n.”
#twice x reader#twice imagines#kpop x reader#miinatozakiii#jihyo x reader#twice jihyo#park jihyo#jihyo imagines#twice#jihyo
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୨♡୧ THE MAN WHO HUNG THE MOON — sakusa kiyoomi x reader. sfw. fluff. dad!sakusa.
the sound of sleepy giggles from down the hall makes a smile tug at the corner of your lips. as you pick up the toys scattered about the living room, you picture the scene; your daughter comfy under her blanket and sakusa squeezed into the toddler bed beside her with a book of her choice in his hands. he’s probably changing his voice with each character just the way she likes, tickling her tummy every time she laughs so that the joyous sound is prolonged. little moments like these, ones that warrant you a glimpse into their daddy-daughter time never fail to make your heart swell.
the noise from the back dies down a few minutes later and the quiet click of a door closing tells you that your husband has finished putting the girl to bed. you’re almost finished cleaning up the toys left behind in the living when sakusa wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he doesn’t give you time to savor the feel of him before he’s gone, leaning down to aid you in tidying up.
you shoot him a petulant look that he can’t see as you reach down to pick up the doll by your feet. you have every intention of tossing it in the bin with the rest of your daughter’s things but before you can, you realize that you don’t recognize it. your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you meet sakusa at the toy bin. “when did you get her this?”
“a few days ago,” he replies upon seeing it. in all honesty, he had meant to put the doll away before you returned home. now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well be entirely transparent. “and i actually got it for me.”
“like, got it for you so the two of you could play together?” you eye him curiously with your question. you’re sure that’s what he meant but, without context, the statement produces an entertaining image in your head of the man playing with toys even in the absence of your daughter.
“not really,” sakusa admits, and he can see a sparkle of interest swimming in your gaze. the real reasoning behind the purchase is nothing to be embarrassed about but he still hesitates to spit it out. he’d hoped that you would see the result before you could ask about the process.
“sakura told me she likes the way you put her hair in two braids so i bought the doll to practice.” he turns the doll in your hands so that you can see what he’s taken away from the youtube tutorials in the past few days. it’s a lot better than his first attempt but sakusa thinks he could use a few more sessions to hone the skill before surprising sakura with the style.
you survey his work on the synthetic hair. it’s not bad by any means. the braids are a little loose, but you can clearly see all of the effort he’s put in. you glance up to meet his onyx gaze and offer him a smile. “you’re cute. but why didn’t you just ask me? i would have been more than happy to teach you.”
the thought had passed sakusa’s mind when the girl had first told him that she preferred the way you did her hair but he had convinced himself that the task was something he could easily do on his own. it’s not that he feels like he’s above asking for help, though, he does feel like you’re busy enough with work of your own. the last thing he wanted to do was worry you with this—something he should be entirely capable of.
“you already have so much on your plate, i thought i could take care of this on my own.” sakusa takes the doll from your hands and places it with the rest of the toys in the wooden chest before closing it.
it’s hard to believe that this is the same man that expressed doubts about whether or not he’d be a good dad before your daughter arrived. every day since then, he’s proven that his anxieties about being a parent were misplaced. sakura looks at him with stars in her eyes, like he’s the very person that hung the moon—a lot like you’re looking at him now.
you interlace your fingers with his slim ones, giving his hands a comforting squeeze as you boost yourself up on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his in a soft kiss. his breath is minty, likely from brushing his teeth with sakura not too long ago. you pull away with a smile, bumping the tip of your nose against his before returning to your normal height. “she’s going to love when you do her hair.”
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#sakusa fluff#haikyuu fluff#sakusa imagines#haikyuu imagines#sakusa drabble#haikyuu drabbles#sakusa scenarios#haikyuu scenarios
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About Wyll and his horns
Let's say I was writing a part of my Tav's story with Wyll directly connected to the dialogue he has during the tiefling party, and while struggling with this bit, I've realized there's quite a few misconceptions floating around. I felt compelled to add information to the table that might clear them, so here we go.
First, what exactly happens to Wyll when he disobeys Mizora in act one? Well, he doesn't get turned into a devil, he certainly doesn't get turned into a tiefling, he's not a half fiend, not a demon, none of that. Wyll stays human, but he has horns and red eyes (and other features we can't see on his model as of now).
(Everyone has their race listed, Wyll's remains "Human")
This is because when a warlock fails to uphold some part of their contract they can suffer a certain number of consequences, Wylls is “The character grows horns, a tail, or some other devilish features that can't be removed by any means short of divine intervention. As long as these marks persist the character detects as a fiend when subjected to Detect Evil and Good spells or similar magic.” ( from Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus, page 214)
And I’ve come across some people that think it wasn’t so bad of a punishment, that he was being racist towards the tieflings, or just not being justified in being upset after having his body forcibly changed against his will. I think they are missunderstanding just how insidious Mizora’s actions were, and here I just want to give some context to maybe bring a better understanding to the situation. Your conclusions are up to you.
Gonna start by using a not exact analogy, but I think it’s going to make the explanation easier. Stick with me for a minute.
Remember Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean? He had a branded “P” on his arm that marked him as a pirate. A murderer, robber, criminal, etc. in the eyes of the society he was a part of. What did Jack do to earn the branding? (if you don’t know this I suggest you look up the “people aren’t cargo mate” scene) He refused to transport slaves and later freed them, and Beckett had him marked as punishment.
Then, in the first movie, he saves Elizabeth, a woman he didn’t know, from drowning. Right after however, when Norrington sees he has a branded “P”, he’s like “alright, off to jail with you, and then hanging”, no other option crosses his mind. Again, Jack doesn’t know Elizabeth, isn’t indicated to think he is going to be rewarded for helping her, he just sees a drowning person, sees that no one else is going to help, and chooses to save them. That is a pretty selfless/good aligned thing to do, for no other reason that he was the one able to do it, yet the branding in his arm overrides any good action he could ever do, marking him as a criminal for execution and no further thought.
In a way, that’s what Mizora did to Wyll; she forever visibly branded him as someone that has made deals with devils, and that in the world of DnD is a VERY BAD THING. Personally I really like the mod that gives him more devilish features, but at the same time I think there was something clever about choosing to leave him looking more human. He can’t be confused with a tiefling, he doesn’t have the ears, the claws, the tail, all those features that characterize them. He looks kind of uncanny, and that would be like a red flag for anyone in that world. (Beyond the already existing hate for tieflings that I’m not gonna tackle on here because it’s a complicated thing that deserves its own post). And Wyll wants to do good, he wants to help people, to be a positive force in the world so, so badly. This dude got abducted by a nautiloid, got tadpole’d, and the first thing he did right after that was come across the Tiefling refugees and be like “Oh you need help? No worries let me teach you self defense. Oh you being attacked by goblins? Let me blast them real quick”. His way of saying fuck you to all the awful things that have happened to him is being aggressively good and kind. Mizora knows this very well, wants to see him suffer for her amusement, wants to remind him he can't escape her claws, so her choice of punishment was to forever taint his future interactions with mistrust and suspicion. Some people can go real fast from “oh thank God they saved me” to “oh no, are they gonna rob me, are they trying to trick me, are they in cahoots with the ones that attacked me first?” just because of outward appearances. Especially in DnD world. And that deserves its own conversation, but we're focusing on Wyll here.
(Mizora, when I catch you Mizora)
“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have made a deal in the first plac- - “ He was seventeen, alone, preyed upon by Mizora and put in an impossible situation. Please PAY ATTENTION to the story you’re witnesing.
Anyway.
About the tieflings. I know it’s easy to think his words can be derisive towards them, but it’s less about the horns and more about his body being changed against his will. Imagine instead that he got half his face burned, or something that disfigured him. I think his feelings at the moment were closer to that, and yeah they are pretty insensitive words to say to someone with a similar condition (horns or disfiguration), but when feelings are fresh and raw like that it’s easy to say insensitive things. Not saying it was ok for him to say those things, but ther was no malice in his words. I’ve also seen some people share that they think Mizora wanted to change him more to make him unrecognizable to his original self, the Wyll Ravenguard kid, and I think there is some truth to that too. She wants to make sure that Wyll remembers that he belongs to her, there's no question to that.
(MIZORA, WHEN I CATCH YOU MIZORA)
Whether the Tieflings refugees would feel unsettled by Wyll or not? Yes. In a way, they would. From reasons aside from the ones I explained above, remember that these specific tieflings come from Elturel. If you didn’t pass the History check or don’t remember, Elturel is a city that was literally ripped from the land and dragged to Avernus, First layer of hell (it left a hole on the ground and everything) because their mayor made a deal with the Archdevil Zariel some decades back in the timeline. He sold the souls of all its citizens and the city itself.
This was probably one of the worst times of their lives. Some even got captured and forced to participate in the blood War, like Dammon as a mechanic. And after Elturel got returned to the surface, the tieflings lost their homes because they reminded the other citizens of the literal Hell they’d just gone through, and they kicked them out. And remember, they met and saw Wyll as a human, and then saw him with horns. It’s not unreasonable to think that by looking at him they would be reminded of all the events that led them to the awful situation they’re in. Because of someone that was making deals with devils, just like Wyll. Even if his situation is completely different. And Wyll knows that, that’s why he tells you the tieflings are unsettled by him and chooses to stay away during the party.
It was never just about the horns.
And I know Wyll calls himself a devil but I think it’s because it’s the closest thing he looks as; devils are a whole different race with their own intricacies, although humans can be turned into devils ONCE their souls go to Avernus and they start climbing the power hierarchy there (Mizora and Raphael are cambions/ half-devils btw, which is a different thing, there are plenty of videos exploring those details more in depth).
Do I think Larian should have made some of this information clearer/easier to access? Maybe? but to be fair, it's a game focused and dedicated to a crowd that was already somewhat familiar with the source material, that blew up waay out of what they originally expected to reach. Hopefully they’ll add some clarifications like they did to other quests.
Anyway these are my two cents to the conversation, have a nice day, and don't hesitate to add your two cents if you feel like it!
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#wyll#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard#wyll bg3#mizora#lore#baldurs gate#bg3 discourse#bg3 discussion#elturel#bg3 companions#tieflings#I hate mizora so much oh my god#fully headcanon that when my Tav went to Avernus with Kalach and Wyll they destroyed her#he canonically goes after her in one of the endings#so wtf not#and don't get me started on Ulder Ravengard#I'll rip him a new one on another post#just you wait#tw slavery#tw mentions of slavery
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Kildare Split Part Two: Place In Me
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter 2: Place In Me
Note: Me: I don't know when I'll post chapter 2 maybe on the weekend but who knows. Also me: posts 3 hours after saying that. Once again I wanted to thank everyone for reading and interacting! I appreciate all of you so much. Not edited so be warned. I confused everyone with part 21 and this doesn't provide any answers! Just more context for other parts of the smau. Enjoy!
Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean, y/n being mean
Word Count: 3,371
Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
She thought that she made herself clear and that they understood where she was coming from after her speech in the green room.
She’s not expecting Barry to be sitting on the couch of the tour bus she had chosen to sleep in, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead from her run, slightly out of breath.
When she opens the door and sees him sitting there, she jumps.
“Fuck, Barry what the hell?” Barry had a very specific regime for show days. He should’ve been napping on the other bus.
“We can’t go on hiatus. You’re being selfish.” She feels her ears start burning, she scoffs at him.
“Selfish? You better be kidding me. The audacity of you to come in here and accuse me of being selfish?”
“Y-” She doesn’t let him continue.
“I have put up with this bullshit for two years, Barry! Just because I’m tired and need a break doesn’t make me selfish.”
“If you would just talk to him.”
“No. Fuck you. No.”
“If you talk to him, and he explains himself, you’ll understand and this can all go back to normal.”
“No. I will not fix this. I don’t need to fix this.”
“What happened to be there for each other?”
“Barry. You and Topper were supposed to be there for me!” She snaps, her voice rising.
“You were the only people who knew exactly what I was going through not only with Rafe but with the fame and the drugs and the people wanting things from me. You were going through it too, I know you were. But you abandoned me the second Rafe decided to what? Get in a relationship? You threw me away, I was so alone!”
Tears are threatening to spill over now. She hates how she can’t get angry without crying.
“I went through everything by myself and the people I thought were my best friends abandoned me. I get it okay. You chose your boy. But I thought I meant something to you. I thought I was your friend. He broke my heart and my spirit.” She stops to catch her breath, “I was a shell of a person and you still didn’t even ask me if I was okay. In two years you haven't checked in.”
“y/n..”
“He told me he didn’t want to live without me and the next day I found out he was seeing Sofia. And suddenly I wasn’t his friend or his bandmate or even a person. I was just someone he fucked. And I don’t care why he said that. I don’t care if he meant it or not or if he was lost and scared. He still said it. I’m done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this Los Angeles, I’m done. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t need to talk to him.” She finishes her chest heaving. Barry is staring at her, eyes wide.
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the band. But it’s work. That’s all. We aren’t friends.”
Barry’s silent. Still sitting on the bus couch.
“Get out. Please.”
+++
The early days of getting over Rafe were hard. She wanted to go back to who she was before him. The version of herself before she got involved with him. Journaling and writing song lyrics and poems could only do so much. Everyone told her that she needed someone else. She understood that but she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to get her heartbroken all over again.
Not when she constantly got her heart broken on tour, not only when she saw Rafe making out with Sofia backstage but when Barry walked right by her without acknowledging her existence, or when Topper pretended not to hear her. Her heart cracked every time for the little girl who trusted these boys with her entire being and let them in only for them to stomp all over her.
She spent endless nights on tour, alone in her hotel room crying at the top of her lungs and on the tour bus muffling the sound of her sobs with her pillow. So when people suggested she needed to meet someone to get over him, well, it didn’t sound like a good idea to just let someone else in to break her even more when they eventually left.
It got better little by little, the heartache over her friends hating her. The heartbreak over Rafe choosing someone who wasn’t her, someone who was worth it. The loneliness never did. It was crippling how alone she felt. There were times when she wanted to go back to the drugs, drinking, and partying. She would feel so much better if she just couldn’t feel anymore. She didn’t go back on the promise that she made to herself. She would never be that afraid high out of her mind 17-year-old girl again.
She isn’t sure if she gets over Rafe or if she learned to live with the pain. Sometimes she thinks she’s so angry at him and that’s the reason she doesn’t want him. She misses him all the time, she thinks she’ll miss him forever. At least who they were before they had sex and fucked it all up.
She lets everyone know that when the time comes she’ll make them all aware. Cleo tells her that she better be the first one who finds out she’s seeing someone. She tells her that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
The day she met him was one of the most ordinary days she had lived in her entire life. She had woken up in her Los Angeles apartment, made herself breakfast, gone for a swim and gotten ready for the day. She didn’t have anything planned for the day, maybe tidy up a little, call Sarah, and run some errands. The craving to make brownies hits her out of nowhere, she doesn’t have any of the ingredients at her house though, the life of a touring artist.
She’s leaving the grocery store with her reusable bags filled to the brim with all her cravings. She’s digging in her tiny pink purse that can’t hold anything for her keys when she drops two of her bags.
She doesn’t want to get angry when she sees everything fall, she stares at it for a second, takes a deep breath and moves to pick it up. Once she gets everything together and packed up in her car, she decides that she needs a little treat for putting up with her groceries falling.
Her favorite pastry spot in LA is right by a hotel where all the celebrities who don’t live in the city full time. It’s usually a curse because everyone is hanging out or camping outside the hotel for a small glimpse of someone famous.
She thanks Caroline, the bakery owner and steps out of the store without looking at where she’s going. She feels herself collide into something strong and hard. Someone. Her pastries shake in the box. Of course, this would happen too. Why can’t she just keep herself from dropping her food today?
“I am so sorry.” She says to the man standing in front of her. He’s pretty, she thinks. Dark brown hair, almost black, brown eyes that look very familiar, and strong, and his arms are bulging where his black shirt sleeve ends. He’s hot.
“Don’t worry, you’re fine.” She hears his friend behind say something in a different language and the man in front of her shakes his head and smiles at her.
“Are they making fun of me for being a klutz?” He laughs.
“No, they think it’s funny that I would run into my celebrity crush. Literally.” Any other time, if someone confessed that she was their celebrity crush, she would run so far so fast. Something keeps her there, smiling like an idiot, at a loss for words. She says the first thing that pops into her head.
“Have we met? You look familiar.” She feels like she’s seen him somewhere but she can’t place him.
“Mira que te ha visto a través de la ventana.” one of his friends says, he shushes him not even turning to look.
“I’m an actor?” He says it like a question, his cheeks flush, and he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing.
“Yeah? Have I seen anything you’ve been in?”
“I doubt it.”
“So as your celebrity crush, it seems that I have a responsibility to watch whatever you’ve been in, don't you think?”
“No way.” He smiles at his friends doing a quiet chant of something behind him.
“No? Not even if you join me and walk me through it?” She knows she’s giving him eyes now, looking at him through her eyelashes, fluttering her eyelids a little too much. Her resolve is gone, she doesn’t know where her confidence is coming from and she’s going to use it until it’s gone.
“We could arrange that,” he pauses, “Julio.” He extends his hand out for her to shake.
“Y/N.” and maybe when she takes his hand she feels a shock run up her arm.
Maybe she’s being dramatic and jumping the gun but what if everything she’s been through led her to this moment? Right here with him.
+++
When Rafe finds out Y/N is seeing someone he tries not to lose it. He knows he has no right. His palms start sweating. He feels his breath shorten, he’s honestly a mess though he doesn’t show it.
At least not until Topper pushes him on the subject when they’re left alone.
“She’s seeing someone.” The room is eerily quiet, they’re in the studio recording their second album. Y/N had gone off to probably call her boyfriend and Barry was off doing who knows who.
“Yeah.” He’s short with his answer, scrolling on his phone to distract himself from the ever-intrusive thoughts of her her her.
“You good?” No. No, of course he’s not good.
“I have Sofia.” Topper clears his throat and continues his torture on him.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah.” He looks over at Topper, his eyebrows lifting in acknowledgement.
They stay quiet for a few more minutes, the questions and thoughts and everything eating at him.
“Who’s the guy?” The question forces its way out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to know anything about the man that holds her heart.
“Some actor,” Topper responds nonchalantly, looking at him like he’s going to blow up if he moves anymore.
“Cool.” He wants to claw his heart out. What the fuck is happening to him right now.
“Rafe.” Topper isn’t convinced that it’s cool at all. Because Rafe can lie to everyone in his life but not Topper.
“No yeah, that’s cool. It’s great, yeah, good for her.” He knows he still doesn’t sound convincing.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Let her be happy.” He’s going to be mature about this. He asked Sofia to marry him last year for god sake. If he gets to be happy, she does too. Is he happy?
“Rafe.” Fucking Topper and his questions.
“I’ve fucked her life up enough. She deserves this. Deserves someone.” It spills out of him again, his eyes meeting with Topper’s, begging him to stop.
“Do you ever miss her?” Topper’s not showing him any mercy today, wanting to know everything he’s kept inside for the past two years.
“More than anything.”
“You fucked up” understatement of his life. He ruined her and in turn, ruined himself. He was stupid and selfish and he deserved the worst.
“Yeah.”
+++
“You have to apologize to her.” Rafe’s once again fiddling with his guitar. The arena is empty except for the techs playing with lightingThe stage had been set up the night before. Y/N was with Sarah exploring the city before she had to be back for soundcheck. Barry was taking a nap and Topper was being a pain in his ass. He tweeted some bullshit at him and Rafe had called him back to talk.
“I don’t have to do anything, she’s leaving.”
“Yeah because of you. Because of what you did to her.”
“I seem to remember that you were included in isolating her.”
“That only happened because she was so hurt she pushed everyone away and I thought I would make it worse by forcing her to talk. Anyway, that’s between y/n and I. You need to take responsibility, Rafe.”
“For what? It wasn’t my fault I didn’t love her.”
“Oh fuck off Rafe. You loved her. You were just scared.”
“Of course I was scared! It could’ve ruined everything. The band, our careers.”
“You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved.”
“I couldn’t help it!” He closes his eyes, doing the breathing exercises they taught him in rehab, in therapy.
“Please, just talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want to hear it.”
“You have to try!’
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Because I’m engaged. I’m with Sofia and I’m happy and if,” he breathes “if y/n were to even give me the slightest greenlight I would burn my whole relationship to the ground. Her whole relationship.” He says the last part under his breath, hoping Topper doesn’t hear it.
“What the fuck, Rafe?”
“I know.”
“Why now?”
“I did and said some shit back then to not fuck up the band. It was wrong, stupid and childish. It’s not a question of ‘why now,’ I never stopped.”
“You still love her.” Rafe doesn’t confirm or deny it. Topper shakes his head.
“You need to apologize.” Topper leaves Rafe to strum his guitar in thought.
+++
Everything changes when he comes into her life. It’s like she was living in this deep black hole of anger, sadness, and endless turmoil. He’s her calm. He grounds her and she feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t felt wanted in such a long time and even though they are long distance most of the time between his film schedule and her tours, she has never felt alone since meeting him.
She has a video from him every time she wakes up in the morning. Sometimes it’s just him telling her something that happened to him during the day, or a funny story, and sometimes he sings. She wishes she could drop an album just to feature him on it. She wants the entire world to know that he’s hers and she’s his and she is so incredibly in love.
It’s scary going from such a low to such a high. The extreme contrast is intimidating at times but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She learned what she wanted in a relationship from an extremely difficult situation and somehow it was all worth it as long as she got to have him in her life.
They’re together for a year before it gets out. They chose to be private about their relationship, it’s easy when he’s halfway across the world most of the time. That doesn’t stop her from spending every single moment that she isn’t on tour or in the studio next to him in Spain, Italy, France. She loves him. She would do anything for him. She knew that he was the one three weeks into their relationship and when she told him and he told her he felt the same, it confirmed it.
It’s her fault it gets out, he said it was about time and he wasn’t mad about it at all.
Sometimes she still finds that deep-seated anger she holds for Rafe bubbling over. It’s all-consuming and she can’t stop the venom that leaves her body.
When Rafe’s engagement gets out, she and Julio step out on a date night. Cleo calls the paparazzi for her. It’s a great plan until everyone is freaking out because they’re convinced she and Rafe were dating this entire time.
She loves her fans but sometimes the theories and threads get a little too much. Mostly because they’re correct most of the time.
At first, she was scared of Julio seeing all those things and seeing how everyone wanted her and Rafe to get married. She was scared he was going to run away. It never seemed to faze him. He never not once doubted her. He understands how people get and believes her when she tells him she chooses him for the rest of forever.
+++
Topper’s words haunt him. He wants to apologize to her and give her and himself some form of closure. He doesn’t know how to approach it. They haven’t talked in years, not really. How does he talk to the person that he hurt so much?
He catches her after soundcheck one day, his wringing his hands together, riddled with anxiety.
“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out after her as she passes him.
She slowly turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him in surprise.
“What can I do for you?”
He gulps as she looks at him expectantly.
“I was wondering if you had listened to the album?” What? Why the hell did he open with that?
“Why would I listen to the album?” She asks incredulously
“Well, because I mean it’s about,” he stumbles over his words, “I just wish you would listen to it and maybe hear me out.”
“You want me to listen to your album so that I can hear you?” She nods her head and puckers her lips.
“It’s so stupid that after all these years you can’t apologize to my face so you what? Make an album? Is your apology hidden in there somewhere?”
“Yes-No, I just think that if you gave it a chance, we could talk about it.”
“You want me to pretend to give a shit about your album when you can’t tell me how you feel right now in person?” She’s laughing a little now. Shocked at his suggestion. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Please, can you just listen?”
“No Rafe. I am so done with this. I have been done with this. I don’t care about your album, I don't care about you.” Her words hit him like knives in his heart.
“Why do you care about my opinion about your album? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that your album is about me? You called it Angel, Rafe! The fucking nickname that you gave me when we were 12 years old! I’m not some dumb girl who you can just manipulate and get whatever you want out of her. Not anymore. I am not that person for you.” She stops, her hands coming down from where she was waving them. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and he has a ball the size of a grapefruit stuck in his throat.
“You made it incredibly clear to me that you don’t think of me as a person. Like- what did you say to me? That I’m just a fuck?” He grimaces when she throws his words from three years ago back at him.
“Yeah, you said I’m just some girl you fuck, ‘you’re just some girl I fuck I don’t care about you.’ Sound about right?” He can’t move. He’s frozen.
“You could have worded it a million different ways and still gotten your message across. You could have been so much nicer. Let me down easy. Let me know in a better way that you found someone that you wanted to get to know. I would’ve put everything aside and just been your friend but no, you decided that I meant nothing to you, that everything we had been through, everything we had built, Our friendship was not important to you.”
“Because I’m just someone you fucked. So, Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my opinion because you’re just someone I fucked too and someone that I no longer care about. You are just my bandmate. You are just a coworker, I don’t think of you. I’m done with you. Keep your album. Good luck.”
He was so fucked. It would be a miracle if he ever got her to forgive him.
#kildaresplit au#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks au#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron smau#sorry if you hate it#don't tell me if you do
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Ok so we get this
and this
And I proceed to spiral about colour theory and costume theory and end up writing and expansion to this post I made about Buck in yellow ochre!!! Sorry y'all, you know what that means - my unhinged colour theory and costume meta's are Back!!!
Lets start by revisiting all of Bucks previous yellow ochre wearing shenanigans!
3x06 the yellow ochre sweater he wears when he gets sent home by Bobby - this does after we see Buck and Eddie making up with each other - a moment when we see Buck learning more about himself and growing (read becoming less self-centred and understanding the concept of being part of a team and recognising that he needs to be better about stepping in with Eddie!)
4x02 - Yellow ochre jumper - first in a video chat with Maddie, Chim and Albert, but then more importantly, when he is in his therapy session with dr Copeland - the whole ‘I hide my true feelings from others’ moment - yet another moment of Buck recognising something about himself. I think this is the most key scene in Bucks yellow ochre wearing - more on that in a bit.
4x03 Bucks yellow ochre t-shirt - a t-shirt that matches the shade of the jumper from above, and a moment when Buck confesses to Maddie that he’s in therapy - about being sad and lonely and wanting to be ‘finer’
4x04 - the yellow knit sweater from 3x06 is back (yes it is the same sweater) and this is when Buck has his entire life upended and he finds out about Daniel (kicking us into Buck begins)
4x11 - Buck talks to Maddie and Josh about Sue’s hit and run, then talks to Taylor about Sue. This one is a much brighter yellow than the ochres we’ve seen up to now, but I’m including it because I think its relevant to Bucks arc here (also because it connects into the next time we see Buck wearing yellow - the will scene) the concept of being hit with information that leads to Bucks growth and the nature of most hit and runs not being solved, the perpetrator never being caught and therefore not getting closure on something (this is super relevant I promise!)
Then we have 4x14 and two yellow ochre tops - the first is the sweater, this one is trending more towards orange brown, but its still in the ochre wheelhouse! this oe is all about communication - mostly at Buck - Taylor telling him how stupid he was for climbing the crane, receiving a phonemail from Ana to tell him Eddie is awake, facilitating communication between Eddie and Chris and then Buck communication himself - thinking it would’ve been better if he had been shot. Directly communicating to the audience (as much as Eddie) the inner monologue of Bucks own opinion of the point of his existence.
Then we get the beloved will scene and Buck wearing a yellow ochre shirt, still lighter than the other yellow ochre we’d seen up to this point, with the exception of the previous one which is brighter still. again this is mostly about people communicating at Buck rather than him being the communicator - much like with the previous Jumper. It somewhat plays into the concept of Buck being a passive part of his life rather than actively living it - Kinda hard to explain at this point without the context of the costumes from s5&6. I also want to point out Taylor is in that dark green again here - in the scene when Buck opens the door to the Diaz house.
5x03 gives us Buck in that same shade of yellow ochre (bear in mind we haven’t seen him in any other colour between the will reveal and this scene (beyond uniform!) and here we have Buck pushing Eddie and communicating without actually giving much of himself away - yes he uses himself as an example, but he doesn’t actually open up about himself all that much (this is important - its not the time for that and it provides space for Buck to continue his internal monologue about his self worth) after this he goes home to his loft and we get him communication to a Taylor who isn’t actually present in the space - a symbolic scene that shows that he gets just as much from her absence as her presence (a play on the idea that Buck can communicate better with her when she isn’t actually present compared with when she is - its a juxtaposition of the scene from earlier when they were in bed together and she didn’t listen to anything he was saying, or his wants/needs)
5x04 a scene at the Buckley-Han apartment where Buck isn’t communicating with Chim - Chim is very much communication with Buck about his despair over Maddie leaving - Buck obviously knows where Maddie is at this point, but he diocesan’t take the opportunity to communicate effectively with Chim. so This is yet another example of Buck failing to communicate, while some one around him is clearly communicating and this scene has the addition of secrecy thrown into the mix.
Then we have 5x14 - this one is a bit less obvious - its the yellow ochre and black plaid jacket - its an outlier in that its not solid yellow ochre, but it is again a scene where we get communication - this time BUck is actually the one to do some communicating, but like pretty much always, we don’t get him pushing too much and we see him continuing to deflect from making things about himself - he’s desperate to talk about the shooting and its impact on him, but Eddie resists and Buck backs off. the check here is a nice addition because it shows the concept of cross purposes, but also there is less yellow than in other outfits - the black seems to be ‘devouring’ the yellow - almost like a play on the idea that this was Bucks one big chance to communicate, but he doesn’t take it.
That is the last time we see Buck wearing yellow ochre until the end of season 6 - 6x15 and his date with Natalia to be precise! we’re back to that same shade of yellow ochre and once again we have Buck communicating - but its very much playing into what Natalia what to hear. I don’t doubt that BUck wants to talk about his death and resurrection, but we don’t actually see the conversation beyond the superficial overtures Buck makes. This plays into the suggestion that its about him trying to impress Natalia rather than actually about what Buck needs or wants to say. Its once again Buck communicating without actually communicating. something Eddie picks up on in the later graveyard scene and tries to provide the space for him to open up - which Buck doesn’t take.
The theme continues with the the next Buck/Natalia date in 6x17 - yellow ochre once again, this time an open shirt - again its that same shade, and we see a continuation of the Buck communicate via deflection technique he employs - this scene, like his previous date with Natalia, is more about her and the writers showing us her hang ups/ insecurities than it is about Bucks - beyond showing us that they aren’t actually all that compatible - its kind of framed in the same way as his previous relationships (especially Taylor) - Buck playing into what he thinks someone wants him to be rather than being who he actually is.
This concept is something we see in pretty much all of the previous scenes where Buck is wearing Yellow ochre, this desire to be what people need him to be rather than who he actually is. there are a couple of exceptions - the first time we see Buck in yellow ochre is probably the only instance where we see Buck being somewhat honest with himself - there is an element of him playing the role he needs to to win back Eddies friendship, but I think its coming from a genuine place and is born out of a real desire to be better - he really did learn his lesson. The fact that the next time we see the yellow ochre used is in his therapy session scene where he literally states that he hides his true feelings from others is a big giant yellow ochre flag waving around telling us that when we see Buck in yellow ochre he will be playing into that idea - and that’s then how it transpires in every subsequent scene where he is in yellow ochre.
Which brings me to this new still
no one can tell me there isn’t an air of conflict about that scene - the dark cool tone of the image suggests a coolness to the room - that idea of the cold shoulder or the temperature dropping when there is conflict between two people. their body language is also adding to that vibe - Chris turned in on himself, not sat with Buck, the space between them.
Whatever this scene transpires being about, based on what we've seen with Buck wearing yellow ochre, we can assume its going to continue to play into this idea of Buck not being fully truthful with people and fitting into the role he thinks people want him to pay rather than being true to himself.
I do want to add to this theory by looking at Christophers shirt as well. The grey/ yellow combination is a bit reminiscent of Breaking point (the episode that really is the gift that keeps on giving) becasue we get Chris in grey and Eddie in tan - that is yellowish toned whilst not actually being yellow
There isn't a good screenshot of them together, but the placing of Chris and Buck in the new one has echoes of Eddie and Chris in that scene (one that is interestingly enough playing into the idea of changing family dynamics, but also the moment before and the one that happens afterwards at Bucks loft, directly placing Buck into a parental role (as an aside the idea of Buck being a miracle worker plays into the theme of Eddie looking for magic, just saying!))
Anyone want to play a game of whose shirt does this look like??!!!
Oh you do! well what if I leave these two pictures just here...
yes, yes that is a Chris sized version of that shirt - you know the one Buck was wearing when he and Taylor talked about complicated family dynamics and about telling 'other peoples stories because I hate telling my own' you know that scene about playing a part and not being yourself around people you're supposedly close to! Yes That scene - or how about the scene which happens to be the last time we saw Buck in Chris's bedroom, where Buck talks to Eddie about complicated family dynamics, about needing to have the right outfit on for the occasion, the scene where they talk about retirement, oil and Buck is playing with a dinosaur! yeah see where I'm going with this! Chris wearing a grey shirt that similar to Bucks is Paralleling those scenes - so playing into the idea of history or of thing being outdated and needing to change, of dressing for the occasion (an allegory for playing a role - to fit in to whatever environment you're in rather than being your true self) and most importantly of complicated family dynamics - suggesting that there may have been some change in the dyamics - perhaps this will play into the will (also colour paralleling the will scene as Buck is in yellow ochre and the breaking point scene with Eddie in a yellowish colour and Chris in grey) and perhaps Chris discovering Buck would be his guardian in the event Eddie isn't around. I mean we'll have to wait and see for the actual context, but I will eat my hat if the season 7 scene isn't playing into Buckley-Diaz family dynamics in some way!
Back to this still
I keep flip flopping on if its Buck or Bobby, but right now the lack of grey hair is making me lean towards it being Buck.
This is a still of the back of Bucks head from his coma dream for comparison (blurry as hell as he's not in focus but it looks enought like the same shape of hairline and of Olivers ear for me to feel like its more Buck than Bobby!
I think the shirt is what is throwing me off though because its just so not a typical Buck shirt (excepting coma dream Bucks!).
I've gone back through my notes and I just can't find any examples of Buck wearing this kind of patterning or shirt before, the closest we get is that hideous shirt he is wearing at the hospital after Kameron has given birth
The only thing I can do is scream into the void about check theory because check does't bode well for people - they always end up in the middle of the drama (see my check theory posts linked on my pinned post for more) and while they come out the other side (99% of the time) Buck in check for that scene in 6x18 pretty much doomed his relationship with Natalia (its specific to her and not C&K's baby as Buck wasn't wearing it when he delivered it!) and as that shirt in the still is very un Buck like, has not only yellow ochre in it, but also its a white base (and we all know buck in white is a bad sign!!) and its check patterned - my theory is that this scene is connected to Natalia in some way - either Buck is not being true to him self in more than one way - that things are going to/have come to a head for their relationship (my kingdom for a reverse of Buck to Eddie about Ana in 5x03!!!) and lead to a pretty big change in some way (fingers crossed for Buck to end it and then finally break down and deal with his trauma!!!)
Some other things about that shirt - I've brightened it up in the picture below - the colour combination - the green blue and yellow ochre are giving me call backs to coma Buck (another reason I think it might be connected to Bucks unresolved trauma around his death and Eddies absense in his dream)
Then there is the burgundy stripe in combination with Eddies hand placement and the fact Eddie is wearing a denim shirt - its very Tsunami call back (even the white plays into this as well as Buck was in white when he saved Chris) -
I'm quite probably clowning hard at this point, but the fact we've got Eddie in denim again (not something he wears all that often) in a scene where he puts his hand on Bucks shoulder in that way and with his Christopher watch so very prominent - we'll I might be feeling a certain way about it.
It would make sense to play into that story arc - after all - the opening of season 7 is very much centred around a big water based disaster - its got to bring up a few things for the two of them. If it is related, Eddies Denim being darker at this point would be a nice play on things - the idea that there is more deepness - more depth to his relationship with Buck than there was in early season 3 (it even calls back to flash back Eddie in 3x16 - he is wearing dark denim when him and Shannon fight and Chris wakes up)
Ok thats enough rambling from me! Hopefully i have made a tiny bit of sense! of to go back to screaming in the void now!!
tagging a few people who might be interested! @extasiswings @copyninjabuckley @oneawkwardcookie @spotsandsocks @mandzuking17 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @theladyyavilee @mistmarauder
#I'm being totally fine and normal about this#I missed writing about colour theory and costumes!!#We back baby#kym costume meta#costume spiralling#colour theory#kym colour theory#911 spoilers#911 abc#evan 'buck' buckley#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#is it buck is it bobby? who knows!!#but I think its Buck!#buddie#I'll be over here spiralling!
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Xekstrin Arbitrary Writing Rules V2
1) Sentence variety and paragraph variety is important.
Quick and dirty fix: make sure the FIRST WORD of EVERY SENTENCE and EVERY PARAGRAPH doesn’t repeat too much. (Some repetition is inevitable as you will see later.)
“Huh???” I hear you say.
Ex:
Here’s my example text. Here is another sentence. Here once again is another line of text and even though it has a different length (good) it still starts with the same word and it repeats a bit too much.
Here we have a whole new paragraph, a completely new sentence with commas and everything. However it still starts with the same word. Here you might say, “but I’m repeating it on purpose!” Repeating on purpose is usually fine. Repeating unthinkingly means you aren’t diving into your edits deep enough.
Not a hard and fast rule by any means, but it starts you on the path to thinking more closely about your work down to the itty bitty details.
2) Adverbs are fine… depending on what you want to do.
“It’s not like she loved me or anything.” Sally laughed sadly.
This is a fine brief sentence that still tells us a lot! We can move on to other things while still keeping Sally in mind.
But! If you want to linger for whatever reason… give us some physical details. Tell us what things feel like and sound like. Describe what is happening.
“It’s not like she loved me or anything.” Sally choked when she laughed. Tears were streaming down the distraught lines of her face. Every inch of her was pale and cold to the touch.
Both sections can be equally sad, depending on the context. More words does not mean more emotion! It merely is a tool to let the reader sit with something a bit longer than they might otherwise. You can then try to control the speed a reader is introduced to things, and set up a “wham line” by forcing them to linger somewhere else a bit.
Not every line has to be a poem. Unless that’s your thing. Use your best judgment! Every writer is different and will want to write a scene differently.
3) Said is not dead
I see you, trying to replace every other “said” with “exclaimed” “shrieked”“hollered” “hooted” “ejaculated” or otherwise use another verb to replace “said” for no other reason than you are trying to avoid “said”.
At first this rule seems to go against rule number one, not to repeat words. But “said” (or “says”) is a special word.
Why?
“Said” is effectively invisible.
Readers tend to skim or skip it on instinct. When you use any word OTHER than “said”, however, you are forcing them to make a brief pause and absorb this. Are you wasting their time? Is it notable or otherwise important that this character is doing anything other than saying their words? Use your best judgement.
4) Shi shi shi shi shi shi shi… who is “she”?
We’ve all seen that chinese poem about Shi eating the lions, right?
Writing a lesbian threesome feels a lot like this poem. When in doubt, even if you feel like it breaks rule number one, just use a character’s name rather than an epithet (“the long-haired girl” “the shorter girl”.)
This is less of a problem with het romance but still worth mentioning.
Epithets have their place, if you’re doing it with intention. If you want to talk about swift-footed Achilles, you know your story better than I do! Just don’t use epithets as a backup because you’re scared to repeat yourself. Readers can smell your fear.
5) Readers can smell your fear
Don’t force it. Don’t write for an imaginary audience that is out to punish you. Don’t write defensively in case someone misunderstands. We can smell your fear and it distracts from the story. Trust in your story!
6) Words mean things.
Flexing your vocabulary is sexy. Using big words incorrectly is the writing equivalent of slapping yourself in the face and smugly saying “see how strong I am?”
7) No one knows your story but you. This is both good and bad.
When you are writing, you are trying to show off what’s in your head. The reader does not, CANNOT, see what you see. Mind-reading is impossible.
It’s YOUR job to immerse them in your fantasy as completely as possible. Be clear, be vivid, and engage all the senses. They should know how your fantasy feels, how it looks, what emotions are wrapped up inside it, how it smells, and what it sounds like. What it means.
But also you’re not gonna please everybody so you should just do what you like anyway.
Bye!
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The reason why the toh fandom can have such wildly diverging interpretations of the Wittebane story is because the show did not do its job. How old was Philip when Caleb left? Did Caleb truly believe in witch hunting or was he just playing along to what the town expected? Did Caleb ever tell Philip anything? Did he ever talk to his brother and try to change his mind? How long was Philip searching for Caleb? How did he get cursed? How exactly did the knife fight start? Did Philip kill Caleb accidentally or on purpose? Did he kill him only because he married a witch or because he left him? Or both?
The fact is, we don't have definitive answers to any of these. We only have educated guesses based on portraits barely glimpsed in the show that lack any context, Masha's barebones version of events, and Belos' self-justifications. Casual fans shouldn't have to be knee-deep in fandom just to get the main villain's backstory, especially when said story is the literal basis of the whole plot.
Plus, if you're going to spend the final half of your last season barely exploring the villain's origins, only to completely ignore it in the series finale, then you've written a bad ending.
Update: This is getting some notes so I'm including additional thoughts to the original post. The rest will be under the read more:
Just to add onto this because some folks argue that we don’t need his backstory because we already have the essentials or it’s not really important to the plot. The thing is though is that Belos’ story launches the entire plot of the show, his character and motivation are the direct result of actions that happened centuries before the main characters were born. It needs to be depicted and not largely inferred.
His story is important to creating a more fleshed out character and can strengthen the themes of the show (the rivalry between Eda and Lilith and Luz struggling to fit in at home are parallels to Belos). Instead the show gives little kernels of his story and character that make him more interesting than just Evil Emperor (the fact that the brothers became witch hunters to fit in, the fact that Belos worst memories are of killing Caleb and making grimwalkers are never touched on again). The first (and last) time we see Caleb in a full scene is in For the Future and it has huge implications for the dynamic between the two brothers. But again, nothing is done with it. It seemed like the show was building up that Belos’ lies and self-justifications would lead to his undoing but it doesn’t. So him dying with his ideology and self-delusions intact feels empty.
The worst part of how the Wittebane story is handled is that since it’s largely inferred and you have to be pretty involved in fandom to have a more nuanced take of it, a casual fan can easily just accept other characters’ views on the matter. Masha says “looks like little bro was jealous of big bro” and it undercuts the story of the Wittebanes (to say nothing of the tonal whiplash). The Titan dismisses Belos as only caring for himself and to be the hero, which while technically true, misses a lot of context and makes it easy to dismiss Belos as a whole as simply being evil and crazy instead of a more layered villain. And it can’t be argued that these are just the characters’ perspectives and we shouldn’t take it at face value because there’s nothing really in the show to pushback against that.
Now, yes, it is fun to imagine how the Wittebane story played out and in hindsight, it’s probably better that the show didn’t depict the entire story because they probably would have botched it. But the point remains that the handling of this storyline was a mess (and don’t give me the cancellation excuse, the show learned early on about this and wrote all of 2B with it in mind). The Wittebane story and Belos as a whole showcase why setup and payoff matter. You show the villain feels guilt about their worst deeds? What’s the payoff to that? The villain was originally an outsider who tried to fit in and conformed to a town’s toxic ideologies? What’s the payoff? The villain continually lies to himself and commits atrocities to justify his actions? What’s the payoff?
If you’re going to raise interesting and thought-provoking questions then don’t give the audience a simplistic answer.
#toh critical#toh criticism#the owl house#emperor belos#philip wittebane#caleb wittebane#I don't want to hear any nonsense about belos not “deserving” a proper ending#if you spend two episodes adding new information and context#then that needs to pay off for the audience somehow#long post#post update
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relationship hcs ; angel dust
requested by ; sweatpants anon (16/02/24)
fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; angel dust
outline ; “Angel Dust relationship headcanons!
-Sweatpants Anon”
note ; reader is assumed as being masc aligned because angel dust is canonically gay ^^
warning(s) ; some canon typical angsty topics are touched upon, but mostly fluff!
because of just how long he’s spent under valentino’s control and directly in the public eye, it takes a long time and a whole lot of patience to be able to even begin to convince angel that your interest in him is because of more than just his body — and even then he’ll still have his moments of self doubt, regression, and self isolation throughout your time together (though, thankfully, those do become less and less frequent as time goes on and your relationship becomes more solid and serious)
angel dust is by no means afraid of a little pda and loves showing you off whenever and wherever the opportunity arises — be that through more innocent displays like holding hands or pecking you on the lips/cheek, or through something a bit raunchier like explicitly flirting with you or making out with you at whatever bar or club you happen to be in ar the time — but that doesn’t mean he’s not cautious about keeping you and your relationship away from the prying eyes of his boss or anyone who might clue valentino into angel’s private life
he’s happy to be called any and all pet names that you can think of, the cuter the better in his eyes, and for his part he tends to use a mix of more traditional and complimentary terms of endearment for you, alternating between them depending on how much he wants to tease you in the moment — going from calling you ‘babe’ after thanking you for fetching him a drink when he’s too lazy to get up himself, to whining and calling you ‘baby’ when he feels like you’re ignoring him, to jokingly patting you on the backside to make you yelp and calling you something like ‘hot stuff’ or ‘daddy’ just to see you get all flustered
if you wear clothes that are the same size as him (or, even better, a size or a few bigger than him) then you can pretty much guarantee that angel dust will start raiding your closet and wearing your jumpers/shirts/jackets on his days off — and while he does occasionally do it to show off your relationship or to tease you about how good he looks in your clothes, it’s also a comfort thing for him and it helps him stay calm or get to sleep when you’re away from your shared room for one reason or another
dates with angel dust happen about as frequently as his schedule allows — i.e. if neither of you have commitments elsewhere, you’re gonna be spending time together in one way or another (even if it just means staying in bed with fat nuggets in your comfiest pyjamas watching whatever new show you’ve both gotten into lately)
angel dust has a distinct jealous streak that can cause him to act in one of two ways depending on his mood: if he’s in a more comfortable and confident spot in your relationship then he’ll just saunter over to you both and make it abundantly clear that you belong to him and he’s not in the business of sharing, but if he’s in a really bad spot mentally or very intoxicated then he’s much more likely to actually lash out at the person — storming over, grabbing you by the arm and threatening their life before you have to drag him somewhere private to help him calm down and not cause a scene (read: do something that would get him in trouble with either vaggie or his boss depending on who the offending party is)
he’s forever texting you, even when you’re both in the same room, and his messages can be anything from out of context photos (of him, of you, of someone he’s with, or just a post he’s seen on social media that reminded him of you), to random bits of gossip, to reminders of when he’s going to be home (or him asking you when you’ll be home when you’re out and about), to the occasional ‘love you’ or flirtatious message when he’s feeling a bit sentimental — bonus bits: your contact name in his phone is ‘baby’ followed by an ungodly amount of heart emojis, and your contact photo is a picture of the two of you both mid-laugh that he took during one of your many late nights spent in his room at the hotel
his home screen and lock screen on his phone are also silly photos of the two of you — one being from when you visited him during one of his drag shows and another being of the two of you intentionally pulling stupid faces just to make the other laugh (he can’t remember when it was taken all he knows is that it’s one of his favourite pictures and it makes him smile whenever he unlocks his phone)
angel dust is also incredibly protective over you and he isn’t above attacking anyone who tries to cause you harm (or that has succeeded at harming you in the past) — he was part of a gang in life and, rest assured, he’s more than happy to make use of the skills he gained throughout his mortal life to keep you safe (or even just to gain your approval if you have a habit of praising him for being an excellent shot)
while he’s definitely appreciative of words of affirmation as a love language, angel dust mainly resonates with the idea of quality time — being able to be with you as himself without the expectation of acting like something he’s not, or even having to do anything at all, is incredibly important to him and allows him to become more comfortable with being his real self (being ‘anthony’ instead of ‘angel dust’) around you
that’s not to say that he’s not a fan of ‘acts of service’ and ‘gift giving’ if those are your defaults — spoil him rotten, take him on a shopping spree, pamper him after a long day of work, learn how to cook his favourite meals, etc. — and he’ll definitely make it clear just how much he appreciates being taken care of by you, but it just so happens that quality time is the love language that resonates with him the most (beyond physical affection, but that’s just his default with everyone and doesn’t feel as personal to him as spending time together)
he refers to you collectively as fat nuggets’ parents (or ‘daddies’ if you’re comfortable with the term) and will jokingly scold you for neglecting him and your ‘son’ whenever you’re too bus with work or something else to lounge in bed with them
#sleepingdeath#sweatpants anon#male reader#fluff#fluff hcs#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel x reader#angel dust x reader#angel dust fluff
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In the books, Sirius's devotion to Harry is of course very deep, but it never translates to something physical. He only shakes Harry's end when he leaves his bedside in book 4, and in book 5 there is something resembling a hug, like twice...? As a dog he stood up his hind legs and front paws on harry's shoulders and a half hug after Christmas. Idk it sort of drives me crazy, because in the movies Harry and Sirius are so affectionate! That first hug when Harry arrives in Grimmauld!! Gary and Dan had an amazing chemistry that other actors were jealous of, they mirrored the book characters, so it palpable on screen, the few scenes Gary is in at all at least.
So, what do you make of this? Do you in musing for art imagine a more affectionate relationship between Harry and Sirius? Maybe if Sirius survived the war? Molly's hug in book 4 was a poignant moment but imo that should have been a moment between Sirius and Harry. Sirius already says he expected something catastrophic to happen to Harry in the third task, that's what he stutters when Harry comes in with Dumblebore. So he is literally afraid of his godsons life and it still shows of course, Sirius staying at Harry's side was very beautifully written, like the devotion is clear, but I am foaming at the mouth for more affection between them in canon? Platonic, not shipping. So between the movies and the books Im just kinda torn what's better
It's more a rant than an ask, sorry lol, but if you have any input I'd he so stoked to read it. Not many peeps in the fandom even give Sirius and Harry any time of day, nvrmind even understand what they had (which also drives me kinda nuts but ok)
Ohhhh, anon, you’ve come to the right spot! Mostly because I love them. I would say that 80% of my fandom interest is just Sirius being a dad to Harry.
To your question, I don’t think one is better than the other. Each has their purpose. Let me share my thoughts:
1. I am soft for movie Sirius and Harry’s affectionate touching. However. The dynamics of their relationship were NOT mirrored from the books, which…is fine. Honestly, I just don’t think it was a priority for the filmmakers. This particular bit doesn’t bother me because the movies are not supposed to replace the source material—they are an interpretation. To me, watching the movies is like reading fic—fun to watch but not canon. Also, the filmmakers removed so much of their relationship in GoF that they HAD to make Sirius and Harry physically affectionate in order for movie audiences to see what losing Sirius would mean to Harry. Their complexity is completely unexplored in the films, and they had to do SOMETHING to get the audience to feel sad when Sirius died. This started in PoA when they really downplayed the context of their relationship. (Lol, see my rant on PoA. I really don’t like that movie hahahahaha.)
2. In the books, Harry and Sirius are not physically affectionate with each other despite their intense love for each other, and I think this is an effective way to show characterization. As I tell my students, this might have been intentional by the author, but it could have been an instinct that she followed (what feels right for the characters).
Here’s what I think: both are so terrified of losing the other that they won’t allow themselves to get too close, and, crucially, they both fear showing vulnerability. Touching someone and reaching out for a hug or comfort is an extremely vulnerable thing to do. If you reach out for a hug, you are showing your true feelings. To be rejected physically is sometimes more devastating than someone telling you to just “go away.” It’s a sign of trust to touch someone—you are trusting that they feel the same way about you, and you are trusting that they won’t pull away. Both Sirius and Harry understand rejection, and both avoid it. How do you avoid rejection? You distance yourself.
I’ll put the rest under a cut because I think this might get long…
Sirius and Harry, for all that they love each other, fall out of trusting each other by OotP. Part of this is trauma, but it is also miscommunication. Harry is worried that Sirius will do something stupid—either out of concern for Harry or because he wants to get out of number 12–but he’s worried he’ll lose Sirius. So by withholding affection (which I’m not sure if he knows how to give physically), Harry distances himself from Sirius which will, theoretically, keep Sirius safe (of course, it backfires). Sirius is…you know…going through stuff in OotP. He is already vulnerable—he perceives himself as being emasculated because he’s not allowed to leave his childhood home and he’s relegated to performing ‘uninteresting, domestic work’, and he must be inactive when he’s a man OF action.
When it comes to Goblet of Fire and the odd handshake… I think Sirius is reeeeeally holding back. Harry does NOT want him to go, and Sirius knows this. (Why DOES Dumbledore send him away? Literally anyone else could have “alerted the old crowd” and NOT the convicted murderer. This is clearly the author’s excuse to get Sirius away from Harry—and, I’ve spoken to this before, Sirius is too much of a miracle character—too smart, too loyal, too loving to support the story that the author wanted to tell.) Sirius, if he had stayed, would have been the emotional support that Harry needed. So if Sirius holds Harry, what if Harry doesn’t let go? What if Sirius himself can’t let go? A handshake will have to do.
So Sirius leaves Harry with that bizarre handshake. That Sirius leaves at all damages their relationship—it could have been repaired with time (if they’d been allowed time), but this moment makes Harry realize that he cannot rely on anyone, not even Sirius. This leaves Harry to be isolated in OotP, and it leaves him to feel like he cannot trust anyone. I’m not blaming Sirius for leaving, but I believe this action causes a rift between them that carries into the next book.
My point is, I HATE that they don’t touch but it is very important that they don’t, at least when it comes to the story that the author wanted to tell. I think it was the right move when we look at the story as a whole. Do I like it? NO! But it’s interesting, and it DOES feel right for them. Is it devastating? Yes!!!!!!!
TL;DR: I don’t think either interpretation is necessarily better than the other, but they both have their purpose. Both are effective!
Touch is…huge in HP. Consider Voldemort’s “I can touch him now” and causing Harry pain. Touch is a privilege, and to be touched without permission is a violation. Harry kills someone by touching them. He is only touched by his family when Dudley beats him up or he gets shoved in his cupboard.
Weirdly, one of my absolutely favorite moments when Sirius and Harry touch is in PoA when the Dementors are closing in on Sirius, Harry, and Hermione, and Harry, as he’s about to faint, reaches out to grab an unconscious Sirius by the arm, thinking something along the lines of “the dementors weren’t going to take him” and such. And this is about two seconds after Harry has accepted that Sirius is telling the truth! Harry physically tethers Sirius to him—this touch-starved teen reaches out to this man who is now everything to him, who is now his only real family, willing to risk death (or worse) to keep it. BUT THEY JUST MET!!!!! Devastating!!!
Also…another thought: the first time Sirius and Harry touch is the first time Sirius has been touched as a human in twelve years. And Harry is beating the absolute shit out of him…and then Sirius nearly strangles him…
Also, also, not to like…self-promote, but if you want some Sirius & Harry family feelings and a wee bit of affectionate touching, I wrote a one-shot where they talk about their feelings in OotP.
Anyway, this got longer than I thought. Thank you for the prompt!!
#if this sounds critical of sirius it’s not#he is a Very Good Character#if he were ‘perfect’ he’d be boring#i like his messy parts#and i like harry’s#i wish there had been more of them together#but i like that we can build the relationship outside of what we’re given#i love AUs#sirius black#harry potter#hp meta#long post#asks
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What if Bully Ellie and the reader are exes and now Ellie just wants to make the reader's life miserable 💀💀 I will pay for it, bc I know she will be so mean to her but the moment a new girl wants to make a move on reader Ellie will lose it
better than me | 18+
masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza
pairing | bully!ex!ellie x ex!reader
synopsis | ellie isn't handling your break up well, her jealousy and anger taking over in the worst ways
warnings | 18+ MDNI!! wedgies, bullying, insults, jealousy, toxic behavior, sexual context, masturbation.
word count | 2k
a/n | honestly i'm kind of debating turning this into a miniseries because i really like this concept and kind of want to see where i could take it but let me know what y'all think!! i wrote this in the middle of the night with zero editing so if you see any mistakes no you don't. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.
You and Ellie had a very messy breakup, one she couldn’t get over. So she started bullying you. It started your freshman year of college, only two weeks after the breakup. Ellie had gone up to you in the locker room at the school's gym. She looked at you with an angry glare, “Move, you’re in my way.” She glares at you with her arms crossed, she had never looked at you like that before.
“Just go around, you can literally climb over the bench. I don’t wanna talk to you,” you say, the breakup still fresh for you.
Ellie shoves you back lightly, not breaking her glare, “No. You’re gonna move.” This exchange had garnered them a crowd, a lot of the girls in the room glancing over at the pair. Ellie is stubborn but so are you.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? This isn’t you, Ellie!” You exclaim, not even caring if you’re causing a scene. You’ve never seen this side of her and it upsets you. You’re not even expecting it when she grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, quickly pushing you face first against the cold metal lockers. She grabs the waistband of your gym shorts and pulls it away from your body, giving her access to your underwear. She wraps her fingers around your waistband and you beg as soon as you feel her cold fingers brush against your skin.
“Ellie, whatever you’re about to do, don't do it, please! I-I’m sorry! I should’ve moved!” You plead with her to literally save your own ass. It doesn’t work. She grips the waistband, pressing her arm hard against your back to keep you in place.
“You should’ve listened to me when I told you to fucking move,” Ellie borderline snarls before pulling hard on your waistband, the cotton fabric of your panties forcing its way up and between your cheeks. You yelp in pain and instinctively try to run, causing Ellie to pull even harder, forcing you onto your toes in seconds. You try every trick in the book to escape the pain but it’s no use, she has you right where she wants you and you’re not going anywhere.
She pulls and pulls at your panties, hiking them up to your shoulders before letting go of your waistband, laughing when you whine as it snaps back against you. She continues to hold your body against the locker, pressing herself against you and gripping your hair painfully. “You better listen to me next time I tell you to do something you fucking loser,” she threatens before letting you go and shoving past you to get to her locker. You look around the locker room with embarrassment, looking down at the ground and trying to hide your face with your hair as you grab the rest of your things from your locker before running out of the locker room and back to your dorm.
You encounter her again a week later, you’re out in the quad talking with a girl from one of your classes, her name is Layla. You’re both sitting on a blanket she brought, talking about an assignment, cracking jokes here and there. You’re having a great time, smiling bigger than you had in a while, cheeks flushed when she compliments you. It’s bliss until Ellie comes along. She’s walking back to her dorm after an annoyingly long lecture, she’s got an overpriced iced coffee in her hand that she bought from the campus coffee shop and a pissed off look on her face.
She’s speed walking, wanting to get away from everyone and everything when she spots you and Layla. You’re leaning in and giggling, smiling like you did when you were with Ellie. It makes her heart ache and before she even realizes it she’s walking over to the both of you. Her mouth feels dry as she’s standing in front of you two. She looks down and feels nauseous as you both look up at her.
“Uh, can I help you?” You ask coldly, glaring up at her. She looks nervous, and it’s slightly amusing to you to see her like this. Your date grabs your hand reassuringly, aware of the incident that had happened a few weeks ago.
“What are you doing?” Ellie asks, her mouth moving quicker than her brain. She mentally facepalms after realizing what she’s said. It’s obvious what you’re doing and Ellie fucking hates it.
“We’re just…hanging out. Why do you care?” You respond, looking away from her, focusing your eyes on a bird flying around in the distance.
Ellie shuffles her feet and racks her brain, trying to come up with a response. “I-I-” She cuts herself off, still trying to find the words.
“Can you just leave us alone, we’re just trying to hang out and enjoy some fresh air. We’re not bothering anyone, okay?” Layla says, speaking up for the both of you. This angers Ellie even more, she doesn’t want to hear a word Layla has to say. She’s seeing red, jealous when she knows she has no right to be. She wants to act logically but she can’t, she acts purely on emotion as she tosses her coffee at Layla. It sends you both gasping in surprise scooting back, but not near quick enough to avoid the splash. You groan as you realize your white shirt has been covered in Ellies drink. Ellie is just as shocked by her actions as you are, she’s quick to run off, wanting to get back to her dorm as quickly as possible.
You and Layla scramble to figure out what to do, using the blanket to dry yourselves. All you do is make the stains on your shirt and light wash jeans even worse and you hang your head in embarrassment as she walks you back to your dorm. You let her borrow some clothes and your shower stuff as she goes and gets herself cleaned up, you can’t lie she looks pretty good in your clothes even if it is just a black t-shirt and some sweatpants. You have your turn to shower and change and when you finish up you go back into your room to talk to Layla.
“I’m so sorry about that, I had no idea she was gonna do that. She hasn’t been herself since we broke up, she’s all mean now, it’s weird…” You apologize, sitting down on your twin bed next to her, brushing through your wet hair.
Layla looks at you and smiles reassuringly, “It’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for her now, if she can’t get over it she should talk to you instead of acting like such a dick. It’s not like you knew she’d do something so ridiculous.” You lay your head on her shoulder and look down at your lap.
“I just feel bad you got caught up in this shit, she shouldn’t be messing with anyone else. I mean, she’s mad at me, there’s no reason for you to get caught in the middle of it,” you sigh. Layla once again grabs your hand, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb.
“She’s mad at me too for taking you out on a cute little picnic,” she chuckles, resting her head against yours. You feel comfortable and happy with her, but there’s a part of you that feels like something is missing. You push down the feeling, it’s not something you feel like addressing in the middle of such a sweet moment. You push back your memories of Ellie and let yourself smile as you and Layla cuddle up together. She stays over for an hour, cuddling with you and talking about class and getting to know each other better, you’re grateful she doesn’t bring up Ellie again. When she leaves she promises to return your clothes when she sees you again, you couldn’t care less if she did, she looks better in them, anyway.
Ellie is freaking the fuck out when she gets back to her dorm room, completely out of breath as she had run the entire way there. She’s thankful Dina isn’t there as she collapses onto her bed hyperventilating. She hasn’t always been great at impulse control, everyone who’s known her has known this. But she didn’t think it was bad enough for something like that to happen. She knows she’s going about everything wrong, there’s no way she’s getting you back acting like that, but she doesn’t know how to get her shit together.
“I’m so fucking stupid oh my goddd,” Ellie groans, grabbing her pillow and screaming into it in frustration. She’s embarrassed and angry and still feels pangs of jealousy as she thinks about you and Layla giggling together in the grass. Ellie had never taken you on a picnic, when you dated it was mostly arcade and movie dates, she hadn’t even thought you’d want to do something outdoors. She overthinks it, convincing herself you broke up with her because she never took you on a nature date. It’s a stupid, irrational thought, and Ellie knows that, but she doesn’t care. She needs to let herself spiral before she can pick herself back up and make a plan that doesn’t make you look at her like she’s a complete jackass.
“I need to apologize, tell her I’m sorry for the wedgie and the coffee and fucking up her date…her date with that girl who doesn’t deserve her but whatever…” Ellie mumbles to herself, pulling at her hair stressfully. She thinks back to the wedgie incident, she completely humiliated you and it got her wet. Your pathetic little noises, how you were at her mercy like that, it just did it for her. She scrunches up her nose, trying to convince herself to stop thinking about it like that but it doesn’t take long for her to soak her panties once again.
“If I take care of it, I’ll stop thinking about it,” she mutters as she tries to convince herself it’s okay to get off to the memory. She slips off her jeans and slips her hand under her panties, starting off by flicking her clit, whining pathetically at the sensation. She slips two of her fingers inside her soaked cunt, pumping them in and out slowly as she uses her thumb to stimulate her clit. She continues working her fingers in and out of her cunt as she bites her lip to keep her noises to a minimum. All she can think about is how pathetic you sounded as you took your wedgie, she replays the noises in her head, loving how you sounded. You never sounded like that when you had slept together, that was a side of you she didn’t get to see until she had your waistband in her hand. It doesn’t take her long to cum, whimpering out your name as she reaches her climax. She lazily works her way through her orgasm, wishing it was your fingers instead. She feels guilty afterwards, mumbling to herself that she’s not doing that again.
She forces herself to get out of bed and into the cramped bathroom she shares with Dina so that she can wash off her shame. Little does she know that you’re in your dorm room doing the same, pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt shamefully as you use your other hand to pull your panties like Ellie had. The feeling of powerlessness, pain, and humiliation had all combined into pleasure in your brain. You halfway moan Ellie’s name when you cum, cutting yourself off when you realize what name is leaving your lips. “I’m never doing that again,” you promise yourself as the shame bubbles up inside of you. For once you’re grateful for your roommate to come bursting in the door, you let her nonsensical rant about whatever show she was watching distract you from the lingering thoughts of Ellie’s hands on your waistband.
#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams smut#ex!ellie williams#bully!ellie williams#bully!ex!ellie williams#wedgie kink
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here's another minimal context scene from that beauty and the beast au. this one's from real late in the plot, but i think it'll make... enough sense? it'll at least sound cool
here are the other two scenes i've posted: Ren gets cursed and the knife scene, both of which come earlier in the plot
The last day of Martyn’s life is beautiful.
The sky is bright, finally. Uncertain sunlight stretches its first warm rays across winter-hardened ground, casting the illusion of spring through the window. Martyn knows better, of course—unable to feel the sunlight through the bars of his cell, all he has to work with is the blistering winter wind, a biting cold that the sunlight has not yet chased away.
The deceptive warmth is a bit on the nose, Martyn thinks, but maybe he doesn’t have enough time for anything but the most unsubtle of metaphors.
Ren had been working with Scar. Weeks of hiding out at Ren’s castle, and the whole time, Ren had been planning to turn Martyn in for his own execution. Weeks Martyn spent clearing the crumbling stone, rotting wood, dusty corners of that place, making it livable again. Weeks he’d wasted in Ren’s care, eating his food, finding comfort at his fireplace, sleeping at his side. He’d believed in Ren, and Ren had been planning to betray him all along.
Martyn really should have killed him when he’d had the chance. Maybe, if he’d been fast enough, Ren would never have been able to call for Scar at all.
Maybe Martyn should have stopped to think why Ren was cursed in the first place. Maybe he should have considered Ren might have deserved it.
Watching the sunlight prod the dead grass isn’t enough to distract Martyn from the sound of footsteps, though he pretends not to hear them until they stop right outside his cell.
“Why, hello there!” Scar’s voice is as friendly as ever, which is to say so thick with syrupy cheer Martyn’s teeth hurt just listening to him. “Beautiful day out, isn’t it? Are you excited to enjoy the day? Stretch your legs?”
“Aren’t you supposed to offer me a last meal? Even your dog was a better host than this,” Martyn bites. Scar laughs.
“Oh, I don’t know about that! I’ve given you such lovely accommodations.” Scar grins, sounding quite proud of himself, and Martyn sighs.
“A real five star establishment,” Martyn turns, glaring, “Look, whatever gloating you’re going to do, just get it over with. Is this where you tell me I should never have gone against your rule? Or that Ren is going to be in the audience to help drive home the point? I’m already—“
“What? Ren, in the audience?” Scar asks. He’s amused, his eyes shining with undisguised glee.
“Yeah, what?” Martyn asks.
“Nothing, nothing, I just realized something really funny about you two, is all,” Scar says.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Martyn asks.
“Nothing! Nothing, it’s part of his curse. Didn’t he tell you? And here I thought he trusted you!” Scar says, aghast. “He’s a dog, Martyn, you can’t let those go without some kind of leash. He’s fenced in, just as any responsible person would do.”
“He’s what?” Martyn asks, and with startling clarity Martyn remembers a hundred moments of Ren sitting just inside the gate, waiting for Martyn to return from the woods just outside the bounds of the castle. He’d stopped at the gate when Martyn had fled, too, pacing back and forth inside the entryway. Martyn gasps, “Ren can’t leave the grounds.”
“Oh, you got it!” Scar says. Martyn narrows his eyes.
“Why would he tell that to you?” Martyn asks. Scar leans in towards the bars, grinning. It isn’t wide, but it’s all teeth, perfectly white.
“He really didn’t tell you? Maybe I didn’t need to be worried about you two,” Scar says, “It’s starting to sound like Ren didn’t trust you at all.”
“Shut up,” Martyn snaps, “If he can’t leave, how did he contact you?”
“Hm… Well, that’s the thing…” Scar hums, stroking his chin with one hand, “I wouldn’t say he contacted me, so much as that I was around and decided to pay my friend a visit.”
“Ren didn’t turn me in,” Martyn repeats, “You were lying. That whole— how much of that did you lie about? Was he even working with you at all?”
“Ren and I haven’t worked together in some time,” Scar admits, feigning sadness, “My poor friend, stuck in that old castle, wasting away under that unbreakable curse.”
“Friend, huh?” Martyn asks. He’s trying to sound mocking, but he thinks he might just sound afraid. “Is that a lie, too?”
“Ren and I were great friends! Up until someone cursed him to take the form of a loyal dog, forced to sit and wait at home until someone actually put as much faith into him as he did them.” Scar says, wiping away a dry tear, “It’s too bad, though. That big, trusting heart of his… No one’s ever going to match it, not in this world. He’ll be in that kennel forever, waiting for someone to respect a dog as though he were a person.”
Martyn sits up.
“You cursed him,” Martyn says. It’s not a question.
Scar absolutely beams.
“I was starting to get worried, actually. I felt the curse weakening, so I went up to see what had happened with Ren. The fact it was my runaway rat who had pitied him was just a lucky break, but the fact that on top of that, you’d even left the bounds of Ren’s protection? Lady Luck must really like me!” Scar brags. He sighs, crossing his arms.
“You absolute basta—“ Martyn starts, hopping to his feet.
“But,” Scar barrels right over him, “It doesn’t seem like I needed to worry about anything. Not even that naive old dog trusted you.”
With that, Scar takes a step back from the cell, smiling as bright as always.
“Well,” Scar says, “Thank you for the lovely talk, Martyn. I’ll see you later tonight!”
Martyn doesn’t bother to watch him leave. He looks back to the window, through the bars and into the courtyard. He can’t see the forest from here—can’t see anything for the walls surrounding the whole castle.
He’s never going to see Ren again, and it’s his own damn fault. Why would he believe a pathological liar over Ren? If Scar had come any other time, if Martyn hadn’t already been jumping to conclusions just because he’d overheard— he’s never going to see Ren again, and the last thing they’ll ever have done together is argue.
For whatever little it’s worth, he knows now who he trusts.
—---—
Somewhere at the edge of the forest, Ren falls flat on his face.
This is the last step in a process, though. The process begins like this:
The barrier of Ren’s curse is unbreakable, unyielding, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. He’s been scratching at it since Scar and his men disappeared over the horizon, Martyn in chains among them. His paws bleed, a few of his claws casualty to his desperation, but the barrier stays. Ren stays, his eyes locked on the path down the hill, pleading for something he knows he’ll never see.
Somewhere in the world, Ren is trusted.
Ren’s fur falls out in patches. The claws—the ones left, anyway—disappear next, and then his ears twitch for the last time, vanishing into his hair. His face changes, muzzle shrinking, body shuddering as the rest of him follows.
The tail disappears at the same moment as the barrier, and this is when Ren pitches forward into the dirt. He hits hard ground, and what shocks him most is how cold it is—suddenly, Ren is freezing.
He scrambles up onto his elbows, tugging his cloak closer to himself. When he looks down, it’s not to thick fur—Ren finds himself staring at human arms. Perhaps a bit hairier than he remembered, sure, but pale pink, with fingers and thumbs ending in short, dirty nails.
“Oh, my god,” Ren whispers. His mouth stretches in shapes unfamiliar, a face almost too short. He licks the inside of his mouth and finds all the teeth inside perfectly regular, devoid of the long canines that have dominated his smiles for the last few years.
He’s human. The barrier is gone. The curse is broken. Ren can do… anything, really. Everything he’s put on hold, anything he’s dreamed while pacing the halls. The world is open to him once again, and he has all the money and power and freedom to find anything he’d like. He could take back the stolen throne. He could seek out revenge on Scar. He could take a walk out into the forest, simply because the barrier wouldn’t stop him.
There’s only one thing he needs, though. One which he knows needs him, too.
Ren shoves himself to his feet and runs back inside. There’s got to be something he can wear in one of these rooms. He can’t be too picky, though—he has somewhere to be, and he’s already late.
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