#wild was also involved in this i just didn’t add him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poisonousquinzel · 9 months

Text

Batman: The Animated Series Harley Quinn being the Blueprint for Modern Harley Quinn

my actual version of this post

Working On The Side Of / With The Batfam

Harlequinade (EP) • "Batman and Robin have no time to spare in stopping the Joker from detonating an atomic bomb, so they enlist the help of Harley Quinn to hunt the Joker down."

Batgirl Adventures • "When Poison Ivy is captured by mobsters, Harley Quinn must act quickly to save her, so she turns to the only hero she can find: Batgirl!"

Batman: Gotham Adventures #43 • "Who's out to get Harley Quinn? Batman has to take her on as a sidekick to find out. The answer awaits deep in Harley's history...that is, if she and the Dark Knight survive the traps set for them all over Gotham!"

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 1 (2020) #12 | Season 3 #2, #5, #7

Also before anyone comes @ me all "oh but what about her participating in the Death in the Family storyline", I've made a post here talking about the exacts of Harley's involvement in Jason's death.

Trying To Have A Better, Reformed Life / Redemption Arc

Batman: The Animated Series "Harley's Holiday"

Batman: Gotham Adventures #10

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 3 (2023) #2

Ending Scene In Batman Beyond: Return Of The Joker

Being A Little Goofy Gal

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 2 (2020) #7

Batman: The Animated Series • "Holiday Knights", "Harlequinade", "The Man Who Killed Batman"

Dressing Revealingly / Being Sexual

Batman: The Animated Series • "Harley & Ivy", "Harley's Holiday", "Holiday Knights", "Beware The Creeper"

The Batman Adventures: Mad Love

Being Bisexual (cry about it♡)

Paul Dini: When Bruce and I did the Harley and Ivy miniseries, it was certainly implied that [Ivy and Harley] had a relationship with each other—they shared hugs and kisses. I didn’t want that to overpower what the story was, but the relationship between them is so natural.

Paul Dini: The more I worked with [Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy], the more I could see [a romantic relationship] happening. Unfortunately, at the time, in an animated kids cartoon, you really couldn’t get into the complexity of that or honor what a relationship like that could really be. We just showed them together as friends and on fairly intimate terms when they were out of the costume, but nothing was implicit because if we couldn’t do that relationship properly then we didn’t want to do it at all.

Batman: The Animated Series • "Holiday Knights"

Batgirl Adventures (1997)

Love Is Love (2016)

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 3 #2-7

Breaking The Fourth Wall

Batman: The Animated Series • "Harley's Holiday"

HQ, turning her head towards the camera: "Talk about grasping at straws. Oh, well, at least I'm going out on a joke."

Being A Domestic Violence Victim (And That Being A Prevalent Aspect Of Her Story)

"Everyone else sees the Joker laugh, only Harley has ever seen him cry. It's the only reason she stays with him.

Harleen, having once been a therapist, has touched onto his vulnerability. She knows who he is underneath. That’s what keeps her there."

- Arleen Sorkin [Batman: Animated | Interview Add-On Comment]

Batman: The Animated Series • "The Laughing Fish", "Harley & Ivy", "Mad Love"

Justice League • "Wild Cards"

The Batman Adventures: Mad Love (comic)

Harley Quinn: Mad Love (Novel)

Batman: The Animated Series | The New Batman Adventures Episodes

Harlequinade Aired: May 23, 1994 Writer: Paul Dini Director: Kevin Altieri

Harley's Holiday Aired: October 15, 1994 Writer: Paul Dini Director: Kevin Altieri

Holiday Knights Aired: September 13, 1997 Writer: Paul Dini Director: Dan Riba

The Man Who Killed Batman Aired: February 1, 1993 Writer: Paul Dini Director: Bruce Timm

Harley & Ivy Aired: January 18, 1993 Writer: Paul Dini Director: Boyd Kirkland

Beware The Creeper Aired: November 7, 1998 Writer: Rich Fogel Story by: Steve Gerber Director: Dan Riba

The Laughing Fish Aired: January 10, 1993 Writer: Paul Dini Director: Bruce Timm

Mad Love Aired: January 16, 1999 Writer: Paul Dini Story by: Bruce Timm & Paul Dini Director: Butch Lukic

Justice League Wild Cards Aired: December 6, 2003 Writer: Stan Berkowitz and Dwayne McDuffie Director: Butch Lukic

Ending Scene In Batman Beyond: Return Of The Joker Story: Paul Dini, Glen Murakami, Bruce Timm Screenplay: Paul Dini Director: Curt Geda

The Batman Adventures: Mad Love Writers: Paul Dini, Bruce Timm Pencilers: Bruce Timm Inkers: Bruce Timm Colorists: Bruce Timm, Rick Taylor Letterers: Tim Harkins Editors: Scott Peterson, Darren Vincenzo

Batman: Gotham Adventures #43 Writers: Scott Peterson Pencilers: Tim Levins Inkers: Terry Beatty Colorists: Lee Loughridge Letterers: Albert DeGuzman Editors: Joan Hilty, Harvey Richards

Batman: Gotham Adventures #10 Writers: Ty Templeton Pencilers: Rick Burchett Inkers: Terry Beatty Colorists: Lee Loughridge Letterers: Tim Harkins Editors: Darren Vincenzo

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 1 #12 Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini Pencilers: Ty Templeton Inkers: Ty Templeton Colorists: Monica Kubina Letterers: Josh Reed Editors: Andrew Marino

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 2 #7 Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini Pencilers: Rick Burchett Inkers: Rick Burchett Colorists: Monica Kubina Letterers: Josh Reed Editors: Andrew Marino

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 3 #2 Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini Pencilers: Kevin Altieri Inkers: Kevin Altieri Colorists: Monica Kubina Letterers: Josh Reed Editors: Andrew Marino, Ben Meares, Katie Kubert

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 3 #5 Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini Pencilers: Ty Templeton Inkers: Ty Templeton Colorists: Monica Kubina Letterers: Josh Reed Editors: Ben Meares, Andrew Marino, Katie Kubert

Batman: The Adventures Continue Season 3 #7 Writers: Alan Burnett, Paul Dini Pencilers: Ty Templeton Inkers: Ty Templeton Colorists: Monica Kubina Letterers: Josh Reed Editors: Ben Meares, Andrew Marino, Katie Kubert

Batgirl Adventures (1997) Writers: Paul Dini Pencilers: Rick Burchett Inkers: Rick Burchett Colourists: Rick Taylor Letterers: Albert DeGuzman Editors: Scott Peterson, Darren Vincenzo

Love is Love (2016) Writer: Paul Dini Illustrator: Bill Morrison Colourist: Robert Stanley Letterer: Sal Cipriano

Harley Quinn: Mad Love (Novel) Written By: Pat Cadigan and Paul Dini

I am aware this last one isn't technically in the BTAS universe, but later on in the novel, it blends into the Mad Love comic/episode and then goes past it. I only used scenes that were originally featured in the comic/episode as they are just those scenes in a purely written form.

Harley Quinn: Mad Love (Novel) Pg. 261 He lowered his head and slumped, the very picture of dejection. Harley couldn’t stand to see him that way. She cuddled up next to him and took him in her arms. “I know how to make some smiles, puddin’,” she said in a playful, sultry voice. His whole body stiffened under her touch. “Puddin’?” But she knew it was hopeless; she’d done the wrong thing again. A moment later, he was leading her down the stairs by her nose, pinching it so hard between his thumb and forefinger that she cried out on every step. “Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow! That hurts! It really, really hurts! Please, puddin’—” He pinched even harder as he led her to the door, opened it, then turned her around. “How many times do I have to tell you?” he roared, applying his foot to her backside. “Don’t call me puddin’!” Harley scrambled to her feet just as he slammed the door in her face. She started to beg him to let her in but suddenly all the fight went out of her and she sank down to sit cross-legged in front of the door. Thrown out again; how many times was this? She’d lost count. No, she hadn’t. This was the twenty-fifth time. That averaged out at roughly three times a week for the past two months. - Harley Quinn: Mad Love (Novel) Pg. 255 “Hey, that’s a real gasser, ain’t it, Mistah J?” she said between giggles. In the next moment, Gordon thought the nitrous was making him hallucinate as events took a sharp turn into the surreal. The Joker grabbed the floppy points on Harley’s hat, pulling her to him so they were nose to nose. “I deliver the punchlines around here!” he bellowed into her face. “Got that?” “Yessir,” Harley Quinn said, her voice tiny and fearful. The Joker shoved her aside and the jolly Clown Prince of Crime persona was back.

#extra info under the read more #batman the animated series #btas #dcau #arleen sorkin #tw abuse #tw clown boy #♢ meta & analysis ♢#♡ my gifs ♡#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #dc comics

226 notes · View notes

sakkiichi · 10 months

Text

BETTER THAN REVENGE.

you and your ex ended on bad terms. you want revenge. your annoying best friend might be the answer.

ft. Childe x gn! reader.

cw/genre: romance, fake dating, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, modern/college au, very brief mention of alcohol consumption.

word count: 2.6k.

i dreamt about this idea months ago, and i thought my first genshin crush’s birthday would be a good day to write it hehe. happy birthday ajax <3

What did you ever see in that asshole, you will never know.

You hate him. Of that, you are certain.

You really tried to put effort into your relationship, made time for him, prioritized him.

It seemed to always go unreturned.

And that much is made clear tonight, the sight of him making out with someone else at this party you don’t even know why you decided to attend, being the last straw.

“We’re done, you jerk.” Are the words you spat at him, throwing the remnants of your drink at your now ex-boyfriend.

You regret it now. Having wasted half a drink, that is.

The music blasting through the speakers is soon replaced by crickets chirping and the night wind ruffling through the trees. You spare a glance at the moon above. Full, its rays seemingly lighting up a liquid silver trail leading to you.

“Leaving so soon?” A familiar, and, might you add, annoying at times, voice questions.

Well, at least it’s better than hearing your ex, you muse to yourself, as you turn around to face your friend.

His ocean blue eyes glimmer in the summer starlight rain, matching the color of his baby blue t-shirt.

A smile makes it to your face. You always loved to steal that one when you had sleepovers.

“Nothing gold can stay, am I right, Ajax?” You retort, a mirthless grin plastered on your moonlit features.

Your friend takes a few steps forward, coming to stand next to you, shoulder playfully bumping against yours.

“I’d rather you stayed, though.” He says, a melancholy smile tugging at his lips.

You close your eyes, a sigh escaping you into the night.

“Let’s just say… I’ve had enough for tonight.” You mutter, exhaustion beginning to catch up to you.

“Anything happen?” Childe asks, ginger strands swaying around his face in the warm zephyr.

You bark a dry laugh, yet all you feel running through your veins is boiling anger.

“Well, I saw that asshole kissing someone else.” You cross your arms over your chest. “So I made it clear we’re done. I also wasted half my drink on that shithead when I spilled it on his face.” You tilt your head to the side. “Pity, that cocktail was much more worth it than him.” You add, matter of factly.

Ajax chuckles. He always liked your unapologetic remarks.

“You really did that?” He laughs. It’s nice, sincere. Then: “He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Eh, probably not.” You shrug. “I just really want to piss him off now.”

“Oh?” Your friend’s usually dull marine eyes light up in amusement. “Any ideas?”

“Huh, not yet…” You ponder, worrying your thumbnail between your teeth.

Childe levels his gaze with yours, that impish grin meaning he was up to no good not unlike the edge of the moon above.

“Date me.” He smirks, just like that.

And at that moment, you’re too aware of the heat rising to your cheeks, of the wild pounding of your heart against your ribcage, of the constellations of freckles dotting the bridge of Ajax’s nose. “You know, just as show, to spite him.”

And perhaps it’s the sweet intoxication of your half drunk cocktail, or the way a lake of stardust seems reflected in his eyes, but you find your pinky linked with his before you have half the mind to back off.

“Deal.”

—

On hindsight, perhaps you were impulsive.

Was it really a good idea to involve your best friend in this game of spite?

Readjusting your bag on your shoulder, you walk to your first period class.

Students, some more sleepy than others mill around campus, a collage of headphones on, hands busy on screens and chit chat filling the early morning air.

“Morning, babe.” Are the first words directed at you today, followed by a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Ajax…” You whisper-shout, frowning, face warming up. “You know you just need to pretend.”

“I’m very aware of that.” He whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear, as his voice lowers a little more. “He’s looking, sweetheart.”

Despite your quickened heartbeat, a devilish grin makes it to your features, arms wrapping around your best friend temporarily turned “boyfriend”.

“Ajax!” You coo, sweetly. “I had missed you so much! Ah! How am I going to endure six hours of class without seeing you?”

The redhead embraces you, arms tightening around your waist, dangerously close to your hipbones. His face buries in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you, lovingly.

“Good, he just stormed off.” He murmurs, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze.

You smile brightly, luminous eyes meeting his crinkled up ones.

His hand slides into yours, pressing it reassuringly, before you two part, promising to meet afterwards.

Oddly enough, when you sit at the back of the seminar, six hours feel like an eternity.

But, like all things, your classes come to an end, eventually.

Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you leave the building.

It’s weird, this sensation, though.

You’ve been close with Childe for years, you’ve hugged countless times, slept at each other’s place just as many.

So, why now? Why did you feel all jittery and giddy at his subtle touches just earlier?

Perhaps you’re still shaken from your breakup, as much as you can’t stand your ex.

“Hey there, pretty.”

You look up from your phone to be met with the colors of oceans and sunrises, Ajax’s grinning face centimeters away from yours.

“Childe.” You bluntly greet him. It’s unfair how the early evening sun kisses his skin just right, the light dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks reminding you of the stars that soon will start decorating the sky. You clear your throat, then:

“You know we just need to look like we’re dating, right? I thought I’d made myself clear.” You don’t know if your statement is more directed at him or at yourself.

“I know,” the ginger smiles, falling in step by your side. “But we need to make it look convincing, don’t we?” He winks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re insufferable, as always.” You grumble.

And yet, despite no one really being around at the moment, you make no effort to push the man away. And you definitely don’t complain when he switches to your other side, hand lingering on the small of your back, so that you take the innermost half of the sidewalk, away from the cars.

If someone were to ask, however, no, you certainly are not leaning into Ajax’s comforting hold.

—

A few more weeks go by, with most of your free time spent with your “fake boyfriend.”

And as much as you’ve always cherished him, despite his, at times, obnoxious nature, you certainly are confused right now.

What is it you feel for him? You like these newfound moments of shared tenderness between the two, so much that you wish they weren’t fabricated sometimes… What would it be like to love someone truly? To have someone love you?

What do his lips taste like? You wonder, as you have a few more sips of your iced peach juice.

You shake your head. No, you definitely did not think that. Must be the heat, messing with your head, surely.

However, willing fantasy or not, it turns out fate had indeed planned for you to indulge in your cravings.

The door of the establishment opens, the small bell above it signaling the entrance of another customer.

“[Y/n?]” Ajax calls, from the sit across you.

You tilt your head to the side, your redhead friend’s eyes focused on something behind you.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?” You almost shout, the sound dying down to a whisper the moment his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

“Do you trust me?” He smirks.

“Yes, but-“

“You said yes.” Are Childe’s words before leaning in.

To say he was a good kisser would be an understatement.

His lips on yours feel like a roaring ocean, notes of spearmint and sunshine contained in the secret message in a bottle the waves of him carry. Ajax’s calloused hands cup your jaw, ruddy locks of hair tickling you when he angles his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You wish this was real.

But would it really be a crime to play your part right now?

Your fingers tangle in his tangerine hued strands, slightly tugging at them as you bring him closer to you.

You don’t care if this is swimming against the current, if you did drown right now, you would go happy.

But because he’d be damned before he let you drown, your best friend pulls away, allowing air back into your lungs.

That’s the very best goddamn kiss you’ve ever been given.

But, alas, sometimes you think “stupid” should be Ajax’s middle name.

When you glance his way, he keeps looking at something beyond you, that shit eating smirk plastered on the lips you want to kiss again.

When you spare a peek over your shoulder, you spot him. Your ex, sitting with some girl, his face ashen as he looks in your direction.

So that’s all this was.

You should have figured, you chide yourself as you fiddle with the straw of your juice.

If you had payed attention, however, you would have noticed a pair of starry blue eyes not leaving you.

—

And after that arrives the day you realize you are screwed.

This was all just supposed to be a make believe charade, not you actually falling for your friend.

Because you can’t deny it anymore; whatever it is Ajax is to you now, it goes way past platonic.

You can’t let these feelings be known. Ever.

But how are you supposed to ignore all of his sweet gestures? His tender touches when holding your hand; the way he remembers your favorite ice cream, smoothie and coffee orders; how he brings you lunch when he ends up cooking too much for his siblings; or the way not only are you stealing his t-shirts on nights you fall asleep at each other’s rooms, but how he now drapes his hoodie over your shoulders, the night breeze uncharacteristically chilly for this time of year.

And that kiss. That goddamn kiss.

And perhaps your last breakup scarred you more than you let on; or maybe you love Ajax too much to keep up this lie with him. But before you can think twice, the words are out of your lips, glacial shards of a broken dream on a midsummer’s night:

“Ajax? Let’s stop doing this.”

Those eyes of his that sparkled in sapphire hues dim again at your statement.

He searches for your gaze, but you won’t look at him.

“Why? Something wrong?” Childe tries for his usual carefree tone, but you know better; the hurt and strained fear in the words he doesn’t speak are clear as day to you.

“Yes! I mean no! I mean…” You sigh. “I don’t think it makes sense anymore.”

In reality, what doesn’t make sense is pretending this relationship of yours is just for show. But you can’t let him know that.

“Got cold feet?” Your friend, or whatever he is now, asks, oceanic gaze glazed over, not a single star reflected in it when he stares skyward.

‘If only you could know’. Is the sentence you don’t let out through bitten lips.

Instead you offer:

“I don’t think this makes sense anymore.” Unconsciously, you adjust his hoodie a little tighter around your figure. “I just- I think I’ve gotten the revenge I wanted. I… I don’t know, I just want to hang out with you again, but honestly, not like this, not for an audience…”

You stop walking, standing a few paces before him.

“We don’t have to do any of this for the public, you know.” Your friend, crush, partner in crime? assures, shortening the distance between you with his long strides.

“But we do.” You sadly whisper, averting your eyes to the side. You can feel wetness pooling on them. Great, just what you needed. “I… I don’t want more fabricated romantic moments, I’ve had enough of love that was never anything to begin with before.” You humorlessly add. “I just, I want the next time I kiss someone or hold their hand… I want it to be real, for it to mean something… and I can’t keep stealing moments like these from you either, Childe.”

Salty droplets start to dye the grey pavement as you keep your eyes glued to it. Everything feels so complicated, so messy…

“I know this was your idea but… I can’t keep-“

“What makes you think it wasn’t real?” Familiar calloused fingers caress your cheeks, gathering the starless wetness sliding down them. “What makes you think you were stealing these moments from me?” Strong arms envelop you, akin to the early morning rays dancing over gentle waves lapping at the seashore. “It was my idea, right? You said it yourself. Why do you think that was?”

“I don’t know!” You sob into his chest. “I guess you were looking for fun, or you wanted to help me…” You wonder, voice a breath away from becoming fragments of a shattered snowglobe.

Ajax chuckles, soft. His hold on you tightens a little. Then:

“You know, sometimes you can be so dumb, [Y/n].” He utters, tone devoid of his usual teasing. “It was my plan, on that you are right.” His hands rest on your shoulders, as he pulls away to look at you. “But I guess now would be a good time to tell you why.” He shifts his weight on his feet, an unusual dusting of pink creeping up his neck caught by the streetlights. “Truth is, I was scared to, well, ask you out normally, I was scared of you saying no. When you started dating him, I hated him, but I hated myself more, for not having been able to prevent it. You looked unhappy.” He shoves his hands in his pants’ pockets. “So I don’t know, I figured maybe if we pretended, we’d keep it up for a while, or maybe if I was lucky, you’d really fall for me… kinda dense, right?”

You sniff, a smile tugging at your lips despite your cries.

“Yeah, definitely stupid.” You laugh softly, through the tears. “But effective.” You admit, glossy eyes searching for the molten northern stars in his stare.

“Wait, so you actually fell-?”

“Ajax. Kiss me. For real this time.” You plead, clutching the front of his baby blue t-shirt, urging him closer to you.

“What makes you think it wasn’t for real the first time?” He smirks, as his lips link with yours for the second time.

Your arms loop around his neck, his hands digging on the flesh of your lower waist, his palms a searing wave under your shirt. Childe’s kiss tastes of fireworks reflected over a still ocean, the quiet of the minutes before midnight in stark contradiction to the wild drumming of your infatuated heart. You stand on your tiptoes, desperately meeting his tidal wave at its zenith, the caress of the blossoming moon above and Ajax’s tongue swiping over your swollen lips sending shivers down your spine.

The clock strikes twelve, and a beeping sound interrupts the reverie.

Grumbling, you fish your phone out of your borrowed jacket’s pocket.

“00:00

Thursday, July 20th.

Ajax’s bday !! <3”

Your lit up screen reads.

You both let out a chuckle.

“Hey, Childe?” You call him. “Make a wish.”

“I don’t need to.” Constellations are reflected in his azure gaze, lovestruck with images of you dancing amongst them, the smile on his face dopey and entranced.

“Let me give you another present, then.” You tell him, pulling him close again. “Happy birthday, Ajax.” You breathe, as his hands hook under your thighs and your lips crash together again, no onlookers but the moon and stars this time.

236 notes · View notes

chantsdemarins · 2 months

Text

😅Real Villain Training [Tom Hiddleston circa 2012 X Fem.Reader]

Chapter three of Breath of the Æsir is almost here. I’m SO sorry for the wait! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy a very brief Tom story...

Honestly, I pledged to myself, no more Tom stories just focus on Loki. But I think I just can't help it. Especially when slutty inspiration like this photo comes my way (@lokischambermaid and @lokisgoodgirl 😳)

I am humbled by this era of Tom. In 2024 he is a husband/father/seasoned iconic actor in perpetual good cheer, but in 2012, he was a bad boy. As always please reblog and comment if you feel inspired!

Summary: Tom is hanging out with some real jerks for a new role, and he runs into you, literally. Your depression has caused your life to turn a little black and white, could this handsome stranger possibly add some color back? (at least to your cheeks🥵).

Smut factor: I hope...HOT 🔥

(Authors note: I have no concrete proof he was in fact a bad boy so please don't take seriously my young Tom plot themes of drugs and sex, which once again appear here. I could be totally wrong about him. It's art! It's a fabrication! Also, this story does involve mental health!)

I also don't know who would want to be on a tag list for a Tom fic these days! These are a few people who might be interested?? @lokischambermaid @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokisgoodgirl @wheredafandomat @sailorholly @mrs-illyrian-baby @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2 @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbs @tbhiddlestan83 @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @kikster606 @mjsthrillernp @hiroyukinasukawa

Los Angeles, 2012

That afternoon, the rooftop pool at the Saint Avalon was a pink swirl of bathing beauties in early spring. Tom tried to focus on his deadpan conversation with his agent, but polka dots and silly cocktails danced around him. He pushed his Ray-Bans back into place, his sweat—or perhaps nervousness—causing them to slowly slide off his nose.

"Serious British actor succumbs to being typecast as a Norse sociopath. That's where this is headed, Tom, if we don’t do something, get you something else.” “Do you really want to be known only for Marvel?” he repeated his plea. The words just weren’t sinking in.

Tom laughed and inadvertently tried to change the subject. "Have you been to the La Brea Tar Pits yet, John? It’s wild—10,000 years' worth of dire wolf bones.”

His stare remained galvanized by the poolside girls. They just didn't look like that in London. Number one, the sunshine. Number two, the tans. Number three, well, his girlfriend—or ex-girlfriend, rather—made it hard to look too long at anyone else. So had he ever found himself at a rooftop pool party, he wouldn't have had the chance he was having now.

“Tom, are you paying attention? This is important. You're only here for a week, and we need to move on this role. I need to know if you're a yes.” The truth was, Tom was suddenly filthy rich with his own money for the first time in his life. He really loved being a Norse sociopath and already had big ideas for Loki’s eventual character arc into becoming an anti-hero someday. He had filled three journals on his bedside stand with his ideas for Loki.

His agent tried again, “Just hang out with Giorgio. It’s less than a month. Then the movie should be a very easy shoot. You get to embed yourself with some real hedge fund cats.” Tom’s attention snapped back. “Wait, I like that.” “Right? It’s like if Loki worked on Wall Street.” “Well…” Tom hesitated. He didn’t think Loki would actually ever bore himself that way. Those guys were boring to Tom and to Loki.

His poor agent was right, though. He did need another role. Things had gone so well; filming for the next Avengers movie was starting this summer. If he could find another gig, a time filler, a totally different genre, it really would be the best for his career. “Then a play next,” the agent mused, taking a sip of his own cocktail. “Shakespeare, or something 70s.” “70s? As in the 1570s? Or the 1970s?” “Tom.” “How should I know?” Tom laughed to himself, eyes still canvassing the poolside display around him. His agent leaned across his lawn chair and placed his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “So, you’ll do it?”

Two Weeks Later

Deep down, he knew he didn’t have the dissociation required for the job. He was too corporeal, too embodied. Years of being a long-distance runner and a trained athlete had fastened his mind, heart, and soul firmly into his muscles. He clearly wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings in his highly emotive, sensitive body. That was the first thing he noticed about the guys he was forced to hang out with for this role. They were covered up with their suits and sexist jokes. It was like they had Hadrian’s Wall around them. Which was, in fact, what exactly led to his sudden departure from the bar at Rue 23.

He had been embedded with short and loud Glen, buzz-cut Ellis, and the tall and lanky, just like him, Brad Nelson. There were a few others, but they were too milquetoast to be memorable. Role be damned. He left so fast the thick glass door almost hit a nice young couple as he bolted into the cold Los Angeles spring night.

He wasn’t dressed right; in his haste to leave London, he didn’t remember that California got into the 40s after the sun went down. He didn’t even pack a suit coat. Thank God he remembered to grab his leather pack from under the bar. It contained exactly five cigarettes, a finicky Zippo, his aftershave, a white t-shirt, and a travel toothbrush. There might also be a rolled-up Popular Mechanics magazine from the Burbank airport, something he never would be caught dead reading at Heathrow.

He also hadn’t done so much coke since he was in college. Why was LA always so incredibly cliché? He couldn’t blame Luke. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for this role. He said yes when he was distracted. He was in over his head. They had hired these real blokes to make sure Tom looked authentic when they started filming next month, and given his intense drive for perfection, he had agreed that it was “brilliant” of the casting director to force the eight of them to spend these weeks in Los Angeles and one week in Manhattan, in a true immersive centrifuge of shallow materiality.

The night spun around him, a neon ball of yarn, teasing open his pupils until his eyes were black and not at all blue. As he walked, he ran his large hands down the surface of his body, the material of his shirt feeling like a fancy pillowcase from a boutique hotel.

One finger lingered over his jawline, tracing it as he brought his hands back up to his face. Engrossed in the comfort of his form a moment too long, he was distracted once again. This part of LA seemed to always be full of clusters of locals and tourists, laughing and talking. He was unfortunately moving against the flow of the crowd, a wayward salmon when he almost ran straight into you.

“Watch where you're going!” you yelled, dropping your purse onto the dirty LA sidewalk. It opened enough for your things to tumble out. Tom immediately stopped and bent down to help you, but you batted his hands away. “What the hell? I can pick up my own damn Chapstick,” you scolded. “Ma’am, I am so sorry, I am obviously not from here, and I am a little overwhelmed,” he rattled off. “Why is that obvious?” “My accent, of course.” “I didn’t honestly notice,” you spoke as you inspected the tall man’s face with squinting eyes.

You, of course, did immediately notice the timbre of his voice, his height, and the buttons on his tight shirt which looked like they were in the process of unbuttoning themselves. “Would you believe I’ve been doing coke all night with a bunch of Wall Street assholes at the Rue 23, and I had to get the fuck out of there,” he continued, not sure if you were listening, but you were definitely looking at him, so he continued.

“So now I am wandering the streets of Beverly Hills, and I haven’t the foggiest how the rest of my night will go.” You shuffled your feet for a moment before speaking. You had been heading home after a long day at work. You felt genuinely unprepared for navigating a handsome foreigner in the right direction. Yet there was a certain appeal to a man suddenly without his ship or his crew, so to speak. So you didn’t immediately walk away.

He had been shuffled from the airport to the bar in a hired car, he tried to explain, and his sense of direction bordered on problematic. Further, his flip phone was really only good for texting, and that even took way too long most days. He really did seem high, overwhelmed, and a little lost. He also seemed the type unable to handle any silence in a conversation.

“Do you live far?” he said after suffering through 30 seconds of no discourse. “It’s LA, everything is far.” “Fair enough,” Tom muttered sheepishly, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, which were still somehow unbuttoning themselves. He thought he had bought the right size shirt. Maybe not.

You realized that if you were to ask this too-high, too-hot British man back to your apartment, you would inevitably cave and end up sleeping with him just because he caught you in this particular moment of your life. It was an in-between time. You weren't quite your old self and your new self that you'd been working so hard on, hadn't emerged yet.

“Want to grab something to eat?” You finally offered a neutral segue. That seemed to be just what the man needed to hear. His demeanor calmed. “Oh sure, yes, I could go for a big American cheeseburger, honestly.” “Okay then, let’s go to Patty’s on Vine, we can walk,” you said as you pulled at his shirt to turn him toward the right direction. He bristled at the feeling of your touch.

His whole body was even more sensitive than usual. You looked like the queen of the ancient British Iceni to him. In truth, he didn’t much care for the California look. He loved that you appeared out of nowhere and you looked like Boudica, not like Gwyneth Paltrow. Even though he was sure he heard she was nice. RDJ seemed to really love her.

The diner where you were headed was the second-tier after-hours hang, so it wasn’t populated with the usual crowd, not yet at least. You had some time before you would be inundated, and perhaps before someone would recognize him, which you still did not. You could ask him, of course. Although, sometimes in Los Angeles, the worst part is knowing who someone is.

Although Tom being Tom was unable to resist personal questions. “Tell me a little bit about yourself, just a little,” he had to ask as the night air propelled him quickly down the sidewalk. You considered telling him about your job, but it was just how you paid the bills. Your passions were your passions and not for a stranger. So you decided to be a little goth. It couldn't hurt.

“I have something like anhedonia, I suppose,” you finally said. Tom seemed to know what you meant right away. “The inability to feel?” He spoke. “More classically refined, which results in numbness, making capturing interior somatic sensations nearly impossible,” you clarified. “Sounds like you are depressed,” Tom flattened out your creative retelling of your current state. “Maybe,” although you weren't sure of his simple label. "You think it will pass?" Tom continued, ever the optimist.

You considered one way to try and test if this state you'd been in could possibly change, would be to see if he could provoke feelings of passion or at least some kind of low-grade horniness. You’d been feeling functionally blank for a while now.

He was stunning, after all.

He seemed game for anything, his amphetamine grin taking up the majority of his handsome face. He looked so lovely under the hanging light in your dingy booth. You ate the two-egg special you ordered and watched him devour his American cheeseburger with genuine joy.

“So, you're here to practice for a new part?” You sincerely tried to keep the conversation flowing despite the growing desire to test your theory. “Yes, they want me to branch out. In my career, there’s the fear I am already 'type-casted,' I guess you could say.” “Type-casted? So early on?”

He looked young to you. Possibly younger than you actually. “Yes, I had a big role as a villain, it really blew up, but, he's like a mythological comic book one. I am misunderstood mostly. I mean my character, not me.” "Sure." You nodded in understanding and agreed even if you didn’t quite pick up what he was putting down. You wondered if he had ever seen 'The Last Starfighter.' A favorite movie of yours, you rarely shared with anyone else. Or had he been in that? Your mind wandered. You really didn't recognize him, but you also didn't want to offend him by this fact.

“So how would this role be redefining your abilities? If you are playing a heartless hedge fund dude, isn’t that also a kind of villain? Maybe that is why you got this part.” Tom pondered your insight. He again fell into overthinking and was only a text away from bailing on the entire endeavor. He was becoming that kind of guy, emotionally uneven under his elite veneer.

“I guess they feel like I don’t have the chops to be a 'real world' baddie.” “I needed more practice.” “You don’t?” you said very timidly, suddenly you weren’t hungry anymore. You gently pushed your plate aside so you could focus.

You realized his bromance compadres would find him eventually. Another LA truth: it was hard to get truly lost for long. You had been studying his face during the conversation. His pale complexion was slowly becoming flushed in small increments. Was it shyness or a hidden boldness he was bursting to demonstrate, you couldn't tell.

You had worn your espadrilles today, maybe it wasn’t the right season yet, but they always went so well with your outfit-a flowery dress from H&M. Gently and playfully, you kicked one of them off your foot, making a soft thud. Tom dipped his eyes beneath the table for only a moment and brought them back to you, a new flash of crimson emerging. Why were you taking off your shoes? Maybe your feet hurt from the walk?

He picked up his water and chugged almost all of it.

Your right leg lifted up and found purchase exactly between his, landing on the soft seat. Tom chuckled nervously and grabbed your foot. “Just what are you doing?” “I thought you were in training to be a real villain. Or did I misunderstand that?” You teased. Tom’s sincerity and earnestness were effulgent. “Oh no, I am, I really want the part, I need this role.” Suddenly when the idea of something illicit going on beneath the table loomed, he was not reticent about this new role. “Then you better continue to practice.” You laughed, your own smile forming across your face. “How long do we have until they find you?” You inched your foot closer to his crotch.

Tom took a deep breath in and pulled out his flip phone eyes squinting, trying to see the rectangle text banner across the tiny screen. He held the phone up to you. “Can you read this at all?” You grabbed it from him, feeling his hand shaking a little. It was charming. He was nervous.

You read the tiny screen aloud, “Not really, something about where are you at…you wanker, we are about to call your agent." It did say exactly that, and you wondered if possibly Tom was throwing away this role. Were you watching him collapse his career before your eyes? “Are you one for self-sabotage Tom?” The question seemed to catch him off guard. Maybe no one had asked him so bluntly. “Maybe,” he said after a long minute of typing something on the seemingly minute phone with his long fingers and even larger hands. “Just like I am possibly depressed," you offered. He looked up and sat his phone down. “Yes, I think so. Just like that.”

Incoming

Just then the waitress came by filled your water glasses and gave you another quick refill of coffee. Your chosen sobriety was a strange foil to Tom’s imbibed stimulant cocktail which showed no sign of waning. “So, are we on?” He finally said after biting his bottom lip, for what seemed like a year, until it was slightly puffy.

“For what? A staring contest?” You offered, laughing nervously too, your foot still stationed between his thighs. You wondered what you could accomplish at this hour with the looming threat of an incursion at any moment.

The glimmer in his dilated orbs registered that Tom was now aligned in a mission of testing the perpetuity of your anhedonic state. Suddenly under the table, you felt his long legs spread yours apart, like opening a long-closed window that had been painted over.

You gasped but didn’t say anything. He laughed and widened his legs further. You moved your eyes to watch him under the table, his hand reaching down to adjust his cock, which was obviously becoming hard.

At that moment you wanted to jump over to his side of the booth, you wanted to concede and take him to your far away apartment in embarrassing Marina Del Rey.

Tom went silent and finally let go of your bare foot, he had been holding it so hard with his other hand, that you were sure it would be bruised. You immediately placed it on his now impossibly hard cock, tenting his pants obscenely. Honestly, you’d never given a “foot job” before and only seen something like this in a French film once. You had no idea what you were doing.

You slowly began to move your foot up and down his length, which was quite impressive and required more force than you had anticipated. You curled your toes around him to try and create more friction, dragging your heel just at the base.

You placed your hands on the edge of the diner seat so you could put some real weight into getting him off. That seemed to work, and Tom let out a guttural moan. He quickly grabbed your water glass and drank it in addition to his own.

“Should I stop?” You let yourself wonder out loud. “Are you crazy? No.” Was Tom’s quick reply. “Does this feel good?” “Fuck yes.” His voice was breathy, and he shifted in his seat, daring to look around at the customers, but none showed any sign of noticing anything other than themselves. “But this isn’t fair,” he spoke again softly, panting. “How so?” “Because I am um, I am receiving.” “Aren’t you supposed to be a selfish cold surface-level junior business asshole?” “Yes.” “Then this is what they do, they get foot jobs in diners, amongst other perks of course,” you laughed. “Shit, you’re right,” Tom barely squeaked out.

Just then the diner door opened, and you could see the dim faces of the guys he had been partying with. They finally found him. “Don’t look now but your Republican friends have arrived.” Tom’s flush became pale. “Should I stop?” You checked in again. “No.” His response was as clear as mid-day.

So, you increased your speed, you took a deep breath. You were so turned on at this point. You were positive there would be a wet spot on the cracked vinyl seat. You lifted your skirt up further. Tom noticed and peered beneath the table again. He saw your hand brush past your underwear and a finger curl inside the lace trim. You matched his erratic breathing to your motions as you fucked yourself intently. His eyes were glued to you, his fists almost punching into the flimsy placemats. You laughed to yourself about the chances of you both coming in public, surely, he wouldn’t, or you couldn’t.

You were about to mention that perhaps you should stop. When suddenly Tom let out a muffled cry. His breath hitched. You could feel moisture beneath the bottom of your toes as you brought your foot back to the tip of his generous cock once more. “Ah, I see,” you laughed. "Well looks like we are done here." There was no more time to discuss what just happened. The bros had spotted him and you and made their way to your back corner.

Tom closed his eyes in what looked like a silent prayer. He had just had one of the best orgasms of his life. The short blond one with cropped hair spoke up, “Hiddleston, where the fuck have you been, your agency was about to call the cops, which would have been lame.”

“Hiddleston,” you said his surname out loud. Realizing you never got his last name. Tom looked at you with both lust and remorse. Then turned back to the assholes. “You found me, good work,” he said assuredly. “Well we gotta go dick we have a strip club that closes at 3am and it’s in the contract that we take you there.”

Tom slowly got up and used one of his long fingers to expertly untuck that white button-down shirt to conceal the mess you had both made. He looked your way, the pale blue of his eyes returning.

You exchanged numbers for the pleasantry of it, as the assholes looked on impatiently, probably wondering why Tom was wasting his time on a girl who looked like Boudica, but that's just what assholes do you remembered. Although you really didn’t expect to hear from him again. To your surprise right before dawn, perhaps as he was leaving said strip club, a text came over your Blackberry.

“I hope you felt something, I know I did.” Shit.

You did feel something, a lot of things actually. Tom had brought something back to the solemnly plain bagel of your life. You quickly wrote back.

"Don't let the bros see you texting me Tom, you laughed knowing he was probably squinting and barely able to see your words. You picture all of them looking over his shoulder.

"They went home. Can I come over? I feel like we aren't done quite yet. My asshole-in-training self expires at sunrise and I turn back into the real me. Is that okay?" You blinked a few times just to make sure you saw that correctly. "So you're actually Cinderella," you laughed nervously.

You managed to type your address and push send before pulling your covers over your head and screaming quietly enough to not wake up your still-slumbering roommates. You then looked around your room in quiet delightful horror, you had about 30 minutes to hide all your dirty clothes from the past three months under your bed...

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston fan fic #foot lover #meet cute

50 notes · View notes

shanakin-skywalker · 2 years

Text

Sweet (Billy Hargrove x AFAB!Reader)

*Plus Size and POC Friendly; No use of Y/N*

Based off of this blurb:

Word Count: 3,799 (oof)

Summary: Billy and Reader are best friends. Best friends with benefits…and feelings and that makes Billy very jealous.

Warnings: Mean!Billy, Dom!Billy, Possessive!Billy, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it besties!), Choking (sexually), Fingering, Name-Calling, One Face Slap, One Pussy Slap, Honestly This Is Just Fucking Filthy, Every Part Of This Is A Warning

*Only description of reader is that she is shorter than Billy*

Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings I should include!

18+, MINORS DNI

By clicking KEEP READING you are confirming you are 18+.

No one has permission to repost my work on Tumblr or any other platform. Plagiarism, stealing my work, etc will not be tolerated. By clicking KEEP READING you are also agreeing to the above terms.

It was late, her entire house dark except for the yellow glow seen through her window. Her parents had long since retired to their room neighboring her own. Bruce Springsteen’s album, The River, was playing softly in the background and her finger tapped along to the beat of Hungry Heart on the worn, hardcover of Stephen King’s Pet Sematary. She mindlessly chewed on a Cow Tail, the sweet candy hanging out of her mouth as she went to turn the page.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

Her head snapped up toward her window, startled. Her heartbeat slowed once she realized it was Billy.

Billy Hargrove and she had an…unusual dynamic one could say. Definitely more than just friends with benefits and feelings were without a doubt involved but nothing official. Billy’s life was too complicated, the stress of a relationship not one he wanted to add to the equation. And she understood. Well, she understood to a certain extent. Billy told her very little and she never pried or pushed. Of course she wasn’t stupid. She put the pieces together like his relationship with his dad. She accepted what was and what he was willing to give. It was one of the things he lo- no, liked, about her. He refused to use that word, especially in regards to her. They had a good thing going and why would he want to ruin that? She was constant and stable and after everything he clung to that. She was his anchor.

Billy couldn’t help but find her startled expression absolutely adorable. Her eyes big and wide, lips slightly parted and candy hanging out, and fuck, his thoughts quickly became much more sinful. It was too easy to picture something much thicker stretching her mouth. Her eyes looking up at him, instead of straight on through her window, and welled up with tears, wetting her lashes and running down her face. He clenched his jaw, making his hard expression more intense.

She pulled the Cow Tail out of her mouth and set it on the wrapper on her nightstand along with her book. She stood up and her lacy little nightgown tickled the tops of her thighs as she quickly walked to her window, sliding the pane up.

Silently Billy climbed in, towering over her. She shivered, goosebumps erupting on her skin. She didn’t know if it was from the cool night air or Billy’s intimidating frame as his pretty baby blues bore deep into her eyes. He looked tightly wound, wild.

“Billy?” She breathed out but before she could continue his firm hand came to rest around the column of her throat and with big steps he pushed her back, her stumbling until her back hit the wall with a thud. She quickly looked to her wall that separated her and her parents rooms.

“Why did you give him your number?” He hissed out. It was a demand not a question.

“Wha-who?” She floundered, his scent and his warm, firm hand on her neck made her dizzy. He squeezed a little tighter and that seemed to jog her memory.

“Oh! He-,“ she swallowed and wet her lips with her tongue. Her eyes fluttered up to look at him.

“He wants me to tutor him. Help him with an English paper.” She explained but his gaze didn’t soften. He slid his hand further up her neck, right below her jaw, so her head was tilted up and back, exposing her throat.

Billy crowded over her, leaning down so she could feel his hot breath against her ear.

“He was eye fucking you.” Venom spewed out of his strawberry lips. No one attempted anything romantically with her since Billy came to town. There was an unspoken claim. Unfortunately this shithead either didn’t care or had a death wish.

“And that doesn’t work for me.” He growled and the sound sent shockwaves straight to her core. A whimper escaped past her lips.

“What do you- Are we- I-,” she couldn’t form a coherent question, all jumbled and buzzing like bees. He was so warm, smelled so good, was so firm, and oh! He’s so hard.

“My sweet, dumb baby. Do I need to spell it out for you?” His tone was condescending. Her thighs clenched together to relieve the ache. Billy released a huff through his nose and used his right foot to kick apart her legs. He brought his knee to the juncture between her thighs. He could feel the heat radiating as he teasingly brought his lower thigh forwards and backwards. Billy pressed himself against her stomach and she could feel his own arousal, hot, thick, and throbbing through his jeans. She gasped at the feeling. He pulled his head back to stare down at her in her blissed out state.

“I’ve barely even touched you, sweetheart. You’re already so gone. No one could ever make you feel like this. You know that, don’t you, baby?” She doesn’t think she’s ever been this wet. She could hear her slick as he rubbed her with his thigh. All she could do is let out a pathetic whine and nod. Not satisfied, he brought his free hand up and lightly smacked her cheek. Not enough to hurt her, but just to make it slightly sting and get her attention. Her eyes snapped open wide and a soft moan slipped past her lips.

“Don’t. You.” He all but commanded.

“Yes. Yes, only you make me feel this good.” She mumbled out. It made Billy warm with pride. A sweet, pretty thing all his, completely devoted.

“Yeah, ‘cause you belong to me. You’re my girl. Mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.” He smashed his lips to hers and quickly shoved his tongue into her velvet mouth.

She tasted sweet. She’s sweet. She’s sweet, and warm, and soft, and the complete opposite of everything he was. But you know what they say about opposites? They attract and Billy was all but wielded to her. You would have to pry her from his cold, dead hands and even then, he would rise from the grave. Not even ‘til death do us part. She was his forever and although he didn’t want to admit it, he was hers forever. She owned him just as much, maybe even more, than he owned her.

Billy trailed kisses down her neck, harshly sucking and biting marks, letting everyone know she was taken. He usually left them under her clothes, where no one could see but his jealously became a wildfire. They all had to know.

She gasped loudly when he bit down hard where her neck met her shoulder. He soothes the marks with his tongue and trailed the wet muscle to the front of her neck, between her collarbones. He lavished his mouth up the center of her throat to her chin and followed the path up her jaw to her earlobe where he suckled on the fleshy bit. He released it with a pop but kept his mouth next to her ear.

“Be quiet. You wouldn’t want mommy and daddy waking up to their precious, darling girl moaning like the slut she is.” Oh he’s so mean but it made her even wetter. She’s sure she stained his jeans with her juices.

“No, sir.” She breathed out.

“Good girl.” He brought his leg down and took a step back. Oh yeah, there was definitely a puddle in her panties.

“Look at the mess you made.” Her eyes trailed down and sure enough, a large spot, shining in the low light, stared back at her. She looked back up at him, cheeks heating at her desperation. Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Well, aren’t you going to be a good little slut and clean it up?” He backed up to the center of her room, standing in the middle of her rug. She vigorously nodded her head and took a step forward.

He brought his hands to his hips in a stance that radiated domination and he narrowed his eyes at her. She stopped.

“Crawl.” His voice was low and gravely. She could feel her wetness seap down her thighs as she got to her hands and knees. They made eye contact and slowly, she crawled across the hard wood of her bedroom floor and then finally across half of the rug.

Billy was smug. He knew she would never let anyone do this to her, speak to her that way. His erection was straining uncomfortably against the metal zipper of his pants but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when heaven personified was kneeling in front of him, looking up with glazed eyes and tongue running over her bottom lip.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned forward, her tongue flat and wide as she licked up her own arousal from bottom to top. She moaned softly and brought her face away to look up at him, a string of her juices connecting her bottom lip to his pants. Billy’s beautiful blue eyes were almost completely eclipsed by his pupils, clouded with lust. She went back to lapping up her mess, eyes half lidded.

When all that was left was wetness from her tongue, Billy tangled a hand in her hair and yanked her head back. Her lips were red and swollen from the roughness of his jeans. Fuck, she looked so pretty like this. So fucked out and he had barely touched her.

He brought his hand back out of her hair and pushed on her shoulders, making her land on the pastel rug. He quickly followed her, settling in between her legs and once again let his tongue invade her mouth. She went to wrap her arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to pull him closer but before she could even reach his broad shoulders Billy had her hands pinned above her head in an iron grip.

“Be. Good.” He gritted out In between kisses. He pulled one hand away, taking both of her wrists into his large palm. He hiked one of her soft thighs over his hip and brought his fingers down to play with her through her panties. A loud squelch could be heard and he broke the kiss to look at his now soaked fingers glistening in the low light. She held her breath as she looked at him.

Without hesitation, he shoved his fingers into his mouth and sucked. So sweet. His sweet girl. Her thighs closed around his hips and a moan escaped her. His eyes flashed down at her.

“What did I say?” He ordered.

“T’a be good. ‘M sorry sir.” Came stammering out of her mouth. Billy set his jaw and exhaled through his nose like a raging bull. Without saying another word he released her hands and grabbed her by the backs of her knees, bending them back until he was able to take both of her ankles in one hand while the other grabbed her panties by the crotch and yanked them off of her legs leaving her on full display. The cold night air from the still open window chilled her dripping core. He dropped her ankles so they fell on either side of him. She opened her mouth but Billy shoved her sopping, ruined panties into her mouth, her wetness filling her tongue and nose. It was so filthy, so dirty, and she loved every minute of it. A smack against her pussy brought her out of her head.

“Now shut up.” Billy went back to playing with her now exposed cunt, running his fingers up and down her slit, gathering the surplus of her arousal and bringing

it up to her swollen clit. She whimpered as softly as she could and bit her underwear, the wetness gushing from it and her eyes rolled back, swallowing it down.

Once Billy grew bored of her clit, he traced his fingers down to her hole, slipping his middle digit in. He had to bite back a moan of his own. How could she be this wet and still this tight? Her pussy sucking his finger further in until it’s entirety was encased in her warm walls. In an agonizingly slow pace, he began thrusting, taking his finger all the way out, swirling it slightly around her entrance and then plunging it back in. Her fingers dug into the plush carpet and she clenched her teeth down into the wet fabric to keep from crying out.

Billy added a second finger and started thrusting faster. She really hoped the faint background music covered the embarrassingly wet sounds of her cunt. He scissored his fingers against her walls in an attempt to stretch her out. It felt so good, so wet. Her pussy tingled at the sensation and her saliva was running out of the corners of her mouth. He curled his fingers upward and her eyes rolled back again. She was completely delirious with pleasure. Again, Billy added another finger and began thrusting into her as hard and fast as he could. The force causing her back to rub against the carpet, making it burn. It only added to the sensation. He was so good, making her feel so good. How could she possibly want anyone else. And then he curled his fingers again and immediately found the spongy spot that brought her to new heights. He could feel her clenching around him.

“You close, baby? You gonna be a good girl and cum for me? All for me?” He grunted out. She looked at him and tears welled in her eyes and she nodded. It felt good, too good, so good. And then Billy took his thumb and rubbed harsh circles on her clit. She exploded. Her walls clenching down on his finger and stars flickered across her vision. Her body convulsed and she let out a low moan.

Displeased with the continued sounds he glared down and harshly rolled one of her nipples between his fingers through the thin fabric of her nightie. She made a startled noise and he ripped her panties out of her mouth.

“‘’M sorry sir! ‘M trying. You just make me feel so good. Can’t help it. Please don’t stop!” She cried out, tears running down her cheeks. He thought about choking her on his cock but the last rational part of him knew it was already risky enough with her parents in the next room and although there was music playing, it could only drown out so much.

“You’re so lucky I’m so good to you, princess. Keep disobeying me and I’m still gonna give you my cock. What do you say?” He unbuckled his belt.

“Thank you, sir.” She panted out and before she knew it, he had flipped her over and put her onto all fours. She could hear his belt slide out of their loops in a quick whoosh and then it was around her mouth. A ‘mmm!’ Sounded at the back of her throat.

“You didn’t think I’d let it slide? Are you already fucked stupid? You’ve only just had my fingers.” He goes to buckle the belt behind her head, careful not to get any hair tangled in the buckle. She opened her mouth all the way to show her obedience and she felt him slide the buckle into place. He turned her 90° to the left where she had a mirror propped against the wall. She looked fucking wrecked.

Huge, dark bruises scattered down her neck and shoulders, tear tracks ran from her eyes, her lips were raw, chapped, red, and swollen, stretched around leather, drool still running down the corners of her mouth. She was so far gone. Her only thoughts were of Billy.

Billy. Billy. Billy. Billy. Billy.

She stared at him through the mirror. His own eyes were crazed, wild. He whipped off his jacket and white tshirt that was now wet with sweat. His chest heaved and he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his underwear down just enough for his cock to spring free. He looked down to see his angry, red and swollen dick, dripping precum from his tip onto the rug. He could feel his heartbeat in it every time it throbbed. Billy looked back in the mirror and made eye contact with her. He took her in, completely ruined by him, for him. And that thought alone sent him off the deep end.

He rubbed himself up and down against her slick and when he couldn’t take the waiting anymore, he roughly shoved it into her weeping cunt. The force took her arms out and she fell face first against the carpet. His pace was brutal and unforgiving, immediately punching her cervix. She bit down on the leather and turned her face sideways on the rug. A whimper escaped again.

“Can’t even help yourself can you? Look at you!” He hissed as low as he could. Billy buried his hand in her hair again and forced her to look at herself in the mirror.

It was too good. Too much. The feeling of his big, thick cock deep and stretching her pussy, the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against the drenched skin of her upper thighs, the burn from the carpet on her knees, she couldn’t help but let out a cry at a particularly deep and angled thrust against her g-spot. Billy’s big hand slapped over her mouth, clamping down to silence her as best as he could. His other hand wrapped around her waist and brought her up flush against his chest.

“Look at you. Fucking filthy slut. Just for me. All for me. No one will ever see you like this. No one could ever make you feel like this. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Each thrust punctuating each point. He was unraveling as she clung to him, as she squeezed him. He was so close and so was she.

Billy let her go as she fell forward and he unbuckled his belt before bringing her back up to him. He turned her face so he could sloppily kiss her and trailed more down the other side of her neck. One free hand went down to rub her clit. Now that her mouth was no longer filled she babbled mindlessly.

“’M yours. All yours. Only yours. Only want’a be yours. Fuck. Y’make me feel so good. Never felt this good b’for.” She slurred.

“Fuck, sweetheart. ‘M gonna cum. Gonna cum so hard you’ll feel me inside you for days. Y’uh gonna come too. Can feel it. Squeezing me so tight. Fuck. Fuck, I love you.” And then they both came. Her wetness came squirting out, further soaking his lower abdomen and jeans. She kept coming and coming, milking every last drop from him. He fell forward, catching them both before he crushed her, continuing to rut inside her. They laid there quietly, Stolen Car playing and heavy breathing all that can be heard.

Billy slowly, carefully pulled his softening cock from her and she whimpered at the feeling. He quickly tucked himself back into his underwear and cracked open her bedroom door to make sure her parents door was closed and their lights turned off. He heard faint snoring and let out a sigh of relief. He was surprised but didn’t question it.

He swiftly walked over to her and picked her up. Cradling her as he silently snuck into the bathroom a little down the hall. Billy gently sat her down on the counter, the cold tile soothing her sensitive pussy and she sighed, head fell back against the mirror. He grabbed a clean towel and washcloth from the linen cabinet and wet the smaller towel in warm water. He softly, lovingly cleaned her. She whimpered when it brushed against her clit.

“Was I too rough?” Now with his head clear he looked over her, covered with bruises and handprints. She hummed and cracked her eyes open slightly.

“Liked it. Y’uh always make me feel good.” She sighed out.

“I-,” he paused briefly before continuing, “I don’t like the idea of you being with anyone else.” He murmured quietly, she almost couldn’t hear his confession. He took the towel and started drying her off, keeping his hands busy, his eyes busy. Her hands went up to cover his and waited for him to look her in the eyes. She gave him a soft, angelic smile. A complete flip from how sinful she looked just minutes before.

“I love you too.” He froze, quickly remembering what he admitted in the throes of passion.

“Yeah?” He asked not quite believing someone as sweet, soft, gentle, kind, and countless other adjectives could love someone like him.

“Mmhmm. Y’a wanna be my boyfriend?” The word boyfriend didn’t seem deep enough for what he wanted to be. Maybe soulmate but Billy had his limits with the mushy stuff. He huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, I wanna be your boyfriend.” She grinned.

“Good. ‘Cause I wanna be your girlfriend.” He smiled back, an actual, genuine smile and picked up the washcloth and lovingly wiped her face with the clean side, and then patted it dry. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and then peppered them over any place they could reach. She giggled and Billy felt his heart swell.

So this is what love feels like. He thinks he could get used to it.

He quietly snuck back into her bedroom, picking up some of the mess they made, closed and locked the window, and rolled up her ruined rug, placing it to the side to be dealt with the next day.

On wobbly legs, she brushed her teeth and used the bathroom before sneaking back into her own room as well. He had set out one of his large tshirts she had stolen and a fresh pair of underwear for her to slip on and he found a pair of his sweatpants, that she also had stolen, and tugged them on. He turned off her music and crawled into bed next to her. She followed suit and cuddled into his side, basking in his warmth and scent.

“I love you.” Her voice sounded slightly muffled against his skin but it made his heart soar just the same.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” And with that, he turned off her lamp and then fell asleep.

Early the next morning they awoke to thudding against her wall and very questionable noises coming from her parents room.

“You don’t think-?” Billy trailed off.

“Probably.” She groaned out and pulled her pillow over her ears.

“Your parents are cruel.” He looked at the clock before doing the same with his own pillow. 5:17. Oh yeah, this was revenge.

Tags: @moe1 @stranger-kinkslol

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x plus size reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x poc!reader #billy hargrove x poc!fem!reader #billy hargrove x afab!reader #billy hargrove smut #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x plus size!reader #dacre montgomery x poc!reader #dacre montgomery x poc!fem!reader #dacre montgomery x female reader #dacre montgomery x f!reader #dacre montgomery x afab!reader #billy hargrove x reader #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery smut #stranger things

980 notes · View notes

tartsinarat · 26 days

Text

Pip: “…I know you will never think so, but I have always hoped that in another life, you had ran away with me that night.”

Hunter: “…”

Pip: “We could have actually been finally free from this gilded birdcage.”

So I’ve never actually posted anything deeper into how Hunter and Pip think about each other/ their dynamic other than silly sibling dynamic but it’s actually a lot more interesting than that.

Pip and Hunter actually have a complicated relationship that somewhat is like funhouse mirror on what Philip and Caleb may have been like as they both flip flop between the two roles but ironically Hunter predominantly takes Philip’s role while Pip takes Caleb’s. Which uh caused a lot of disagreements.

In the au canon, they see themselves as actually being siblings rather than cousins because the fake story that Belos made is a lot different from the og canon of the show.

So rather than being Belos’s nephews like how Hunter is in the show, instead they are his actual children that he had with a human when he supposedly visited the human realm. This is what Hunter believes is the reason why he has no magic but pointed ears and why Pip thinks he has magic but round ears.

The story that Belos created in order to explain why their mum mysteriously missing is that a group of wild witches killed her and the rest of their family. It’s also the fake explanation for how both Pip and Belos got cursed.

This also adds credence to why Belos hates wild witches to the public and why the day of unity is so important because they’ve all been told it’s going to properly unite the human realm and the demon realm.

I also find it much more interesting that instead of Hunter just knowing that his “family” died in a mysterious way like in the show canon that instead Belos actually created an extremely detailed false family history so those two wouldn’t go snooping around searching for any missing details

it makes it even more fucked up when these two later learn that everything was a lie because to further solidify the illusion Belos even implanted false memories so uh these definitely two struggle with the consequences of figuring that out.

But yeah properly onto Pip and Hunter, both of them were basically inseparable as little kids but ended up drifting apart because Hunter had started working as the Golden guard and Pip was too young to help out (and also Belos didn’t want to have to go through the long and tedious process of cloning himself again) so Pip was often left behind bored and alone.

This boredom has consequences because when exploring the castle Pip found out about something he really shouldn’t have…He inadvertently ended meeting the collector who was also really bored and wanted to play with someone who’s not old and boring like Belos. Uh safe to say Pip straight up almost died when Belos walked in on him and the collector chatting about titans.

Hunter also ended up eventually getting involved to try and protect Pip but ended up getting that wound across his cheek. They obviously both survived but they were both punished by not being allowed to use healing magic on their wounds and to be locked in their rooms for the foreseeable future.

Pip sneaks out and attempts to convince Hunter to escape the castle and run away because it’s not the first time they’ve been almost killed for a mistake but Hunter believes that they had both deserved it for disobeying authority and refuses to come with Pip.

Pip just ends up escaping by sneaking on to an airship but almost gets caught by Belos but just escapes in the nick of time with just a scratch across his thigh. Luckily the airship was being piloted Lilith who had no idea that there was a stowaway onboard as she was too busy planing on how to finally convince Eda to join the emperor’s coven.

Oh yeah Eda straight up slams the door in Lilith’s face and tells Hooty to eat any intruders, Pip sneaks out of the airship as it’s about to leave and while trying to get a grasp of his surroundings, Hooty sees him and its on sight. Eda saves him and ends up with a new roommate along side King and Hooty and patches him up because she felt bad for the little guy.

I’ll talk about Hunter and Pip’s familial relationship in the modern times in another post as this one got really long TwT

But yeah that’s the origin to this post of small Pip and why him and Hunter have bad blood until they met again like 7 years later.

47 notes · View notes

stvrlight-nyx · 1 month

Text

My interpretation of Murder Drones episode 7(a lot about N and Uzi) EPISODE 7 SPOILERS‼️‼️

N is the most caring drone ever, he cares so much about V (friendship) that first thing he can think about is trying to move the rocks to get back to her. After all the shit she put him through, he still thinks of her as one of his closest friends besides his old crush on her. HES JUST SUCH AN ANGEL OMG.

N’s direct-ness towards Tessa is very interesting, because you can see his character wants to really help “Tessa” (who we now know was never actually Tessa), but obviously cares and loves Uzi a lot whether that be platonic or romantic. He clearly emphasises his point by putting a full stop at the end, making it clear to Tessa that he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Uzi. Taking it back to my point about N having to choose between Tessa and his family from back in Manor House, or Uzi this “little bot” that in my opinion he’s poured his heart out to (coming from a Nuzi shipper and no it’s not pro ship). Well we now know that after the whole absolute solver using Cyn as a host and Tessa as a skin suit that he is 100% on Uzi’s side.

YOU ARE TELLING ME THIS MAN DIDN’T KNOW IF HE WAS GONNA LIVE OR NOT AND THE FIRST PERSON HE CALLED OUT TO WAS UZI LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Anyway yea so uh, you can see here that N’s first thought and in past episodes too, his first thought is Uzi. Clearly showing he cares for her and loves her a lot. Usually you brain or in their case their programming should probably make you think about yourself but, he often thinks about Uzi first and then himself like N just confess istg.

I don’t really wanna go through it now maybe in another post but it has to be here so…

J oh deary me J. J is the kinda of character who clearly has always been jealous of N, and how fond Tessa was of him compared to her. Obviously, because you can clearly even as the audience see that Tessa doesn’t really care too much about J, she clearly has to receive the approval from someone else. And that’s where the company comes in, in my opinion I think the company is just feeding her ego so she begins to do more for them. The company had control over V and N previously but because of their exploration and independence they now know the truth but, because of J’s hunger for approval she is turning a blind eye towards her curiosity.

The idea that this isn’t even “The real Tessa” is wild to me, you’re telling me the solver literally an eldritch entity can adapt to humane environments, features, and characteristics that easily. If I were Uzi I’d be wetting myself right now. For me what I would really like to see is the solver disinfecting everyone(or like collecting itself) and somehow disconnecting itself from Cyn and Tessa cus I don’t think it will be able to operate without a host and skinsuit.

DOLL A LITRAL ICON AND GIRLBOSS. Her ideas of the absolute solver while also trying to use it to her advantage is really interesting, it’s crazy that she knew everything but didn’t tell Uzi. Some may argue with me and say ‘oh but doll did it to avoid Uzi ratting her out’ which is correct but, do you think it would alter the storyline if she did? I think it would. Some more question I would’ve asked doll are things like

Do you expect to defeat the solver alone? After defeating the solver what are your theories for a cure? And why do you look good doing everything?(shes so cool)

I am not really talking heavily about Nori right now cuz she deserves her own post but, the notes behind her are really cool to me. Like did she know about the absolute solver and the involvement with the disassembly drones and JcJ? But that’s kinda it

AGAIN N THINKING ABOUT UZI BEFORE HIMSELF AND OTHERS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Apparently can only add ten images so I’ll do a part 2

Reblogs>>>>likes

#stvrpost #murder drones nuzi #tessa james elliot #j murder drones #murder drones theory #n murder drones #murder drones uzi #murderdrones #murder drones v #disassembly drone #worker drone #lizzy murder drones #doll murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones j #murder drones

32 notes · View notes

artistshadow · 17 days

Note

In the novel, are there any Disney heroes involved with war of roses?

SPOILERS FOR BEYOND THE ISLE OF THE LOST: WONDERLAND!!!!

Hopefully this helps answer any questions pertaining to the new Isle book. If anyone has any more questions, feel free to ask if this didn’t answer anything! I just felt like this will be easier than going back-and-forth pulling small tidbits to add 🤣😂😂

Okay, so here’s the briefest summary of what happens in Beyond the Isle of the Lost: Wonderland. We learn that Wonderland is sealed off from Auradon because the Queen didn't want to be under the Beast’s rule, I believe, so she raised an army to fight back just in case. This was known as the War of Roses. It sounds like there never was a fight. It sounds more like the Queen showed that she was no punk and wasn’t gonna let anyone scare or intimidate her, or most likely, she just didn’t want to be the one not in control so out of fear, Auradon closed the Rabbit Hole, which is one of two ways to get in and out of Wonderland, the other being The Pool of Tears. Because of this, Red has never been outside of Wonderland and doesn’t know much about what is going on in the outside world. The Queen has turned Wonderland pretty much into a dictatorship prison where so many things are outlawed that it doesn’t even seem like Wonderland anymore. She wants Red to follow in her footsteps and rule like she does, but Red ain’t having none of it. She wants to rebel against it all, but because she hasn’t had any sort of influence from anyone since everyone in Wonderland is scared to death of her mother, they never act out, so she doesn't know how. In comes Ace and Chester, two characters who sort of help her rebel, but they don’t know much either. Chester is, I believe, the son of the Cheshire Cat or at least a descendant of him. Ace…I'm not sure cause they never established, but if I were gonna take a wild guess, I would say that he could be the son of an Ace card. They do things to rebel and bring life to Wonderland by throwing parties, two to be exact, and the first failed royally, which resulted in them being arrested by the guards, and the Queen just dismissed them. The second party they throw in the throne room which makes the Queen blow her lid and start arresting everyone, which in turn makes Red, Chester, and Ace go on the lam. They plan on going to the Pool of Tears so they can escape Wonderland, but unfortunately, C and A get captured by the card soldiers. They tell Red to run for it and escape Wonderland, but she doesn’t want to leave her friends, so she goes back for them. Big mistake because that was a trap by the Queen, who throws her in the dungeon with them. The next day in front of all of Wonderland, the Queen shows just how much of a royal evil bitch she is by showing what she does to people who break her laws: She turns them into mindless card soldiers, as she demonstrates with Ace. It’s very heavily implied that she did this to the other kids she captured at the party. She then turns Chester into a cat, who then disappears. It goes without saying that Red is heartbroken, distraught, and traumatized by this, and her mother doesn’t give a flying fuck. So, Red now has this deep resentment toward her mother and is probably willing to do anything to get back at her. She probably wants to escape Wonderland more or perhaps take her anger out on the land.

This actually does something the other “prequel” books did as it gives us a look into who the character of Red is and her mother as well. It also gives us a glimpse of how much of a threat the Queen of Hearts is because when I heard that she was planning a coup in the movie, I was like, “yeaaaaah, but she’s really not that big of a threat like Maleficent, Uma, Audrey, or any of the other villains or ‘villains’ so how will this work?” But this gives us more information. It also gives a little more backstory as to why Wonderland is separate from Auradon and why Uma is looking to invite people from there to go to school in Auradon. Do I think they will reference some of the things from this movie? Maybe a little because a lot of it gives us reasons to see the Queen as a threat and more about why Red wants to rebel so much. Do I think we’ll get closure for Chester and Ace? Most likely not, and I hate that because while the other books left their endings with shots of happiness, this one ended completely depressing and horrifying.

Something to note: the Queen HATES cupcakes. In the summer preview, there was a picture of her younger self holding a plate of cupcakes while looking sad, so I wonder if we’re gonna see the reasons behind her hatred for them.

Maddox, the son of the Mad Hatter, is a science teacher at Wonderland High who is in the Queen’s favor. He’s interested in…wait for it…time travel, which is the basic plot of the film.

Reading this really makes listening to Red’s part in the new “What’s My Name” hit a little deeper, especially the parts where she says, “My mom’s as mean as it gets” and “It was rough growing up.”

I don’t know where Merlin Academy, Cinderella, and the other characters come into play, as the book mainly focused on Red, but I guess we’ll find out more in the new film.

It’s pretty much confirmed that the Queen was never on the Isle of the Lost (which makes the mention of her hair salon in the second book kind of weird), so that means Red is probably the only VK who wasn’t born on the Isle. She’s heard rumors about it but has never seen it. The only people she has met from the Isle are Harry and Jasper, who apparently got trapped in Wonderland after the VKs got released from the Isle in the 3rd film. But how they got trapped there if Wonderland was sealed off before they were born is what’s puzzling me. But timelines have never made absolute sense in this franchise so I’m not gonna get to deep into it😄😂

#disney #alice in wonderland #the queen of hearts #red #red of hearts #ace #Chester #descendants rise of red #Descendants #the book was an quick read #but it did leave me with a few questions that I hope the film answers #because like I said it was wild #I’m now terrified of the Queen of hearts

29 notes · View notes

hoseokhasmyheartxx · 1 year

Text

Craving You | KTH

*Pairing: bad boy!Taehyung x f!Reader *Word Count: 2k *Genre: friends with benefits-ish? au, non-idol au, a bit of fluff at the end if you squint, SMUT *Warnings: NSFW SMUT, MINORS DNI. angry sex, bit of nipple play, implied unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts!), dom/sub roles, face slapping, spanking, use of titles 'sir' and 'baby,' piv sex, Tae is mean to her but that's kinda the point, mentions of injuries/blood, implied bad decisions on Tae's part, bad boy Tae, uhhh i dunno what else but let me know if i should add anything else here! *Summary: Taehyung has a reputation. When his reputation leaves him bloodied and bruised, you only want to help. But the way he wants you to help takes you by surprise. *A/N: welp, here i am, once again inspired by some shit that bangtan pulled on the interwebs. thank you, SO MUCH, elle korea, for those fucking photos and for being the cause of this one. also, thank you so much to @thvhoe for this request; i hope you like it!

Prompt from this list!

Main Masterlist

Taehyung was in one of his moods again. You could tell from the minute he walked into your apartment, door slamming behind him as he stormed through your hallway to find you on the couch, staring at him amusedly.

“Hey, cranky ass. Good day today?” you asked with a laugh. Taehyung could only stare at you angrily as he plopped down on the couch next to you. Your best friend was known to show up at your apartment unannounced pretty regularly, but he rarely showed his angry side around you. Only when things went really badly did he let it out in the open, so you naturally assumed today was one of those days.

“Just.. shut up, for once. Okay?” he huffed at you, scowl spreading across his face. You never asked about his day or what he spent his time doing outside of work. You knew his reputation, you knew he was probably involved in some questionable stuff. But the bruises purpling the bridge of his nose and the corner of his bottom lip left you filled with worry. Worry about what he was doing, worry about if he’d get out of it alive. You silently got up from the couch, heading for your kitchen. Grabbing a cold cloth from your freezer (you kept a few in there for times like these), you padded your way back to the living room. Standing in front of him, you reached for him with the cloth, moving to press it against the side of his face gently, but you were surprised by Taehyung grabbing your wrist roughly, stopping you. You froze, not sure what to do next.

“Look, I’m just trying to help. No need to be an ass,” you scoffed.

“If you want to help, shut up and get on top of me,” he replied, staring right at you, eyes unwavering.

“Tae, you’re not as funny as you think you are,” you laughed out. Taehyung had said some wild shit in the few years you’d known him, but this time had to take the cake for his worst.

“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m serious. Get over here.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t move. It was like your mind and body were suspended in time, only thinking about the words that had just left his mouth. You couldn’t deny it, Taehyung was hot as fuck. Hot enough for you to go along with whatever wild plan he had in mind, no questions asked? You weren’t sure, but you didn’t have time to form a response, because suddenly your body was jerked forward as he pulled you by the arm. Your knees hit his, and you were lifted by the backs of your thighs until you were nose-to-nose with him, straddling him. Your breath hitched in your throat, but he left you no time to recover from that sudden action, as his next was right behind it.

Taehyung’s mouth engulfed yours, his lips feeling like fire on yours as he grasped the back of your neck tightly in one hand. A quiet whine left your lips, and he took the slight opening of your mouth as an opportunity to run his tongue along your bottom lip, pressing forward to gain entry to your mouth. His tongue overtook yours, and all you could do was give in and follow his lead. Maybe in any other circumstance this would have gone differently, but with the mood he’d come in with, you were almost afraid to question him. You were pliant in his hold, feeling all-consumed by him. His kisses were rough, desperate even. His hold on your neck didn’t let up as his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you tighter against him. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, and as you did that, you were suddenly lifted up as Taehyung stood. Holding tightly under your thighs, he walked in the direction of your bedroom, still kissing you hungrily.

Setting you gently down on your bed, he broke the kiss, his breathing heavy as he towered over you, holding your chin in his hand. The pissed off look on his face remained, but his tone was calm as he said, “You don’t have to do this.”

“No.. I, uh.. I want to,” you responded, not breaking eye contact, even though you so desperately wanted to. Taehyung was intimidating on a normal day, but today? He was lethal. He snickered, staring down at you still.

“Good girl. Now, take that dress off.”

You stuttered, not used to this demanding attitude. “Tae…” you squeaked out.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Moving slowly, you took the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up and off, setting it to the side. He swiped it off your bed, and all at once, he was climbing on top of you, one knee spreading your legs, pinning your hands above your head with one of his.

“What’s your fucking safe word, hmm?” he growled in your ear, moving to lap at the column of your throat.

“Uh..” you let out, not sure what to say. This was something you’d never participated in, so you’d never even thought about a word to use. He tsked, clearly unamused.

“Alright. Color system good with you? Green is good, yellow slow down, and red stop?” he asked, laughing a bit at your obvious lack of experience in this.

You nodded, wanting to do whatever you had to do to get him to continue.

“Words, baby. I need you to speak.”

“Y-yes. Color system is fine,” you answered.

Chuckling once again, he nipped sharply at your neck. “Yes, what?”

Oh. You gulped, knowing what he wanted to hear but finding it hard to give it to him. You had never called someone that in bed, but there’s a first time for everything, and it looked like tonight would be that for you.

“Yes, sir,” you let out, turning your head to the side a bit to avert his gaze, trying hard not to laugh as the word came out. You immediately regretted that decision, as you felt a sting hit the side of your cheek as he slapped you, grabbing your chin in his hand. His thumb pressed lightly against your throat, making you look at him again.

“I’ll let that one slide, this time. Color?” he breathed out, anger showing on his face again.

“Green..” you answered hesitantly. With that, he pressed his knee harder into the space between your legs, kissing you once more. He let go of your hands, running his hands down your body to your breasts. Taking one nipple in between his fingers, he pinched, hard. You moaned into his mouth, letting yourself fall apart underneath him. Rolling the nipple between his fingers again to ease the pain, he traced his fingers farther down your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear. Using both hands, he pulled them off of you, leaving you naked under his fully clothed form. You felt vulnerable, but at the same time, strangely turned on by this newfound power imbalance. You reached for his shirt, tugging at it slightly, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Nuh uh. Use your words. What do you want, baby?” he snickered, watching you with fully blown pupils.

“Get.. get undressed,” you let out, “I.. want you to fuck me. Sir.”

Watching as his eyes darkened, you knew you were in trouble. The good kind of trouble. His shirt came off first, and you couldn’t help staring at his toned body. Pants and boxer briefs came off next, leaving the two of you fully naked, finally. Your eyes widened as you noticed just how big he was. He reached down and slid his fingers down your slit, and a loud moan came out of your mouth. Chuckling, he began rubbing circles on your clit, sliding your slick around as he inserted two fingers, watching you react under his touch. It didn’t take long for you to be dripping, his fingers easily sliding in and out of your hole.

“Breathe, baby,” he assured you as he slid the tip of his cock to your entrance. Immediately, you felt the burn of a stretch that, surprisingly, you welcomed. Breathing through your nose, you gripped his shoulders, allowing him to set the pace as he slowly pushed inch by inch into you. As he bottomed out inside of you, he kissed your lips gently, with a passion that wasn’t there before. It surprised you, but you allowed yourself to be devoured by him then. “Color?”

“Green,” you replied as you nodded under his lips, the feeling of his cock filling you overtaking you now. With that, he pushed himself up and gripped both of your hands in his, pinning them against the bed at the sides of your head as he pulled back and thrusted deep into you, hitting every spot you didn’t know you had. You let out a gasp as he continued powering into you, feeling his cockhead drag against your g-spot just right. Just then, he stopped, leaving you whining at the loss of his dick inside of you.

“Flip over. Ass up, baby,” he let out, lightly tapping the side of your thigh. You lifted your waist and began to twist to flip onto your hands and knees, but suddenly you were grabbed by the waist as Taehyung flipped you himself, shoving your face into the pillow underneath you. He thrusted deep into you again, not wasting any time letting you adjust to him this time. At this angle, he was able to hit your g-spot even easier, and you immediately moaned out his name, feeling like you were already about to come.

“What’s that?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his deep voice.

“Tae.. Sir.. I’m gonna come!” you gasped out, barely able to form words. At this point, you weren’t sure if it was from how good he was making you feel, or from how your mouth was shoved down against your pillow, but either way, you weren’t lying. A few thrusts later, you were crying out his name again, shuddering as your orgasm washed over you. You shook, barely able to hold yourself up as Taehyung continued pushing into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he got closer to his own orgasm.

“You’re gonna regret that, baby. I didn’t hear you ask permission, did I?” he asked as his hand swung down onto your ass cheek, leaving a stinging handprint where he made contact. You yelped, gulping as he thrusted as deep as he could, leaving fingerprints in the dip of your hips. He stuttered, pulling out of you, and you felt hot spurts land on your ass as he finished.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned, watching as he covered you in his release. You felt the mattress dip behind you as he stood and walked to your bathroom, coming back minutes later with a cloth. Cleaning you up quickly, he smacked your ass again, forcing a yelp from your exhausted body.

“Tae..” you started, turning over onto your back. Watching as he left your bedroom again, you pulled your comforter over yourself, feeling suddenly shy. You had just fucked your best friend, and who knew what would happen now. Before you could really think about it, he was back, and he seemed like his normal, goofy self again. Like the persona he’d just taken on in your bed had never existed.

“There’s a lot of things I’m having to let slide from tonight. But I wasn’t joking when I said you’d regret that. Next time, I won’t be so easy on you,” he said with a smirk, pushing you to the side to slide in bed next to you.

“Next time?” you asked, incredulous.

Taehyung chuckled, kissing your temple gently.

“Oh, baby. You thought I was done with you? No,” he laughed out in a mocking tone, “I’ve been craving you for years. Now that I’ve had a taste, I only want more.”

Your eyes widened as Taehyung kissed your temple once more, pulling you closer to him.

What in fresh hell had you gotten yourself into?

#bts #bts fic #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #bts smut #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfics #taehyung smut #thebtswritersclub

277 notes · View notes

amyunshader · 24 days

Text

Keundal nightmarish street casting (Lookism x DoD 1/4)

just wild ideas for now.

Okay, so at the end of DoD (Debut or Die for the Muggles), Keundal get a job in the new idol managent departement in Orbit, and Moondae (don’t mind if I call him Monday) send him to try some street casting.

He’s looking for handsome, teens to young men, with dancing and singing potential. (Yeah, bet you see where this is going…)

• Keundal trying to recruit Daniel (big and/or little, depending on the timeline). Squeaks upon learning that he’s acquainted with DG, dejected that the talent must be already taken.

• Of course when he meets Daniel there’s Jay tagging along, and he’s great and handsome too! But… he doesn’t talk 🥲 hard to sing

• Keundal scouts Mary Kim — she will rub this into Vin Jin’s face for all eternity.

• Keundal opens the worm can that is Hostel, from trying to get Eli, to happily discovering Sally has great visuals and Warren has an incredibly built body, before realizing the shitshow they’re living into—unfortunately a no go for press scandals with caring for runaway teen to involvement in street violence, without even mentioning Yenna…

• Keundal passing by Big Deal street, ignorantly sees Jake laughing with friends. He’s internally conflicted to scout him (what are those scars? Must be an accident, right? He kinda have a gangster vibe, but so do Raebin, right? He looks like he have a nice, outgoing personality, he can’t be a bad person right?) But then random street bullies happen, and Keundal watch the tattooed, Boss of Big Deal Jake Kim lead the bloody ass-beating —> yiiiiks! Abort mission! Abort mission!

There’s so many handsome guys in Lookism, but alas most are scary scarred handsome, not really idol material: Samuel for instance is out because of tattoos…

I know I didn’t talk about Johan, keeping him for another Lookism x DoD crossover trope.

*me racking my brain trying to remember the Lookism cast* wait there’s Luah too- *also me being too lazy to add her properly*

14 notes · View notes

probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

Text

A Look at Hunter’s Complex PTSD (Part 2)

I forgot to add in the first post last weekend that I am taking excerpts from Parts 2, 4 and 5 of the book ("What My Bones Know" by Stephanie Foo), in case anyone plans to get a copy of it.

I didn’t use anything from Parts 1 and 3, since 1 involves the author recounting her own childhood trauma while 3 is about the cultural and historical events that are tied to the generational trauma in her family and community, which she researched to find answers.

Also..with two of the Owl House specials remaining, which would definitely give us more major Hunter moments…any additions from those two episodes that relate to the book excerpts will be added as new posts, e.g. if any scenes from For The Future are relevant to this Part 2 post, I will be making a post titled A Look at Hunter’s Complex PTSD (Part 2B).

Anyhow if all this sounds confusing now, there will ultimately be one grand masterpost listing every single part. As usual, take care with the warnings of mentions of abuse and trauma ahead. Here goes, for Part 2:

Hunter’s history differs only slightly from the above. He also played a caretaker role to Belos during the latter’s rage episodes:

which shows the failure on Belos’s part, especially since he’s in the guardian/caretaker role, to own, regulate or seek his own help for his difficult emotions, but it imbued Hunter with that sense of feeling “special”. The Golden Guard role was his, and his alone. Belos could then reinforce the whole “wild magic is bad” narrative, exploit how Hunter loved to feel special and wanted, and continue abusing the boy.

But as Hunter tried harder and harder to get Belos to love him the way he wanted, he too experienced a growing vigilance and desperation that was destroying him more and more, as he was worn down further over time.

I’d say it was like this for Hunter too. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t please Belos enough. It wasn't fixing things and it felt as if he was a ship slowly sinking. As his desperation grew, you could say he ventured out further beyond established boundaries, and Hollow Mind was the culmination of the courage and support he spent the previous episodes building up.

He, just like how it’s stated in the book page above, ended up woven more into the world, sewn emotionally and professionally into a network of lives. He made trusted friends and healthier company at last. Ultimately, all those actions he took nudged him along the path meant for him, and it even ended up with him being brave enough to say this in Hollow Mind:

To ask the ultimate question, "What did you do to the other guards?". The question that got Belos to decide “Okay, time to off this Grimwalker and then make another”.

Following that heart-stopping moment, Luz saving his life, both of them escaping, and then the panic attack scene that we all remember, Hunter’s story isn’t over yet.

With where he is now, in the middle of S3, he might be mentally and emotionally operating in a way that I can deconstruct while we wait for the next episode.

I am inclined to agree with these.

It’s just…so likely for Hunter. It was the case for me, since the first 5 years out of my 7 years of seeing therapists (2014-2020) were either just talk therapy or with ineffective therapists that I didn't trust enough. It felt more like just maintaining healthy enough functioning in my daily life, rather than having what felt like proper breakthroughs.

What Hunter needs first and foremost is to just continue experiencing the precious trust and presence of the good people he has formed good relationships with. Everyone is now in survival mode and would need the same manner of support.

Frankly, almost everyone in the show needs that too. The Isles will be going through some form of collective grief, if not already.

Processing all that has happened to him, in his young mind, will be hell of a lot of work. He can’t nicely fit all of that horror into a framework of cold logic, and I doubt the mess can be solved just by “talking things out”. After all, he has Complex PTSD: and being entangled in damaged formative relationships (Belos and the Emperor's Coven, basically) - not necessarily involving just people, or his relationship with himself, but also himself with the world - is the centerpiece of Complex PTSD.

Cold logic can't exactly help you make sense of why you lacked warmth in your formative relationships (the more technical term is "primary relationships" where your primary caregiver(s), a parent/guardian, is supposed to supply you with security and warmth in their relationship(s) with you).

The clearest analogy I can think of for how he’d need some time before talk therapy could ever benefit him, is when a computer does that thing where it shuts down outside of your control, in order to prevent further damage. When you switch it back on by pressing the power button, it usually acts as if nothing happened before that. This numbing and calmness has been essential in the short-term for Hunter to function, one example being from Hollow Mind:

because his emotions being almost completely shut down here were crucial for survival: for his legs to carry him, with Luz’s help, to escape Belos’s mind. If he didn’t have such a shutdown, he may have frozen in place due to being too overwhelmed, making it harder for Luz to shake him into being lucid to follow her, and Belos would’ve been able to apprehend and capture him all over again in the mindscape.

Survive first, fear later.

There is the possibility that with Flapjack’s death in particular, he might swing towards more dissociation than ever before. The reason why dissociation happens in the first place is because the brain, like the computer, would be overwhelmed if it stayed online any further. It’s a protective built-in mechanism to numb intense psychological pain. That computer can still work overall for some time, but boy oh boy..it would need some repair shop work at some point to even perform basic functions.

If his best friend’s death, by his hands, shocked us in the audience as much as it did, it goes without saying: he himself is carrying a massive amount of shock. The thing is..for the time being his attention is diverted to fighting back and going after Belos, making sure everyone else is safe. But we shall see how his mental state will be after the fighting is over.

This pattern of shutting down/short-circuiting and then coming back online without proper deep healing, would be detrimental long-term if it keeps happening and if it continues past the point where things start to be truly safe for him. It can sadly go on for years if e.g. a child is trapped until they move out as an adult, which would mean the road to healing is having to thaw out of several years’ worth of survival mode and hypervigilance.

To remain isolated would be the biggest obstacle in any stage of his recovery. Thankfully he is now the furthest thing from isolated, where the story left off. Check out how different the screenshots are below omg…the effects of Belos isolating him versus where he is now:

A consistent theme has been an ongoing tension between his fears and what he chooses to do anyway. It ain't just great storytelling, it also feels damn real because I'm willing to bet many of us experience the same tension in our day-to-day living.

E.g. in Labyrinth Runners, the panic attack he had:

is what made the later moment so much more powerful, when he decides to run towards fear to help Gus:

Over time, he has repeatedly made decisions where he prioritizes care for others, the desire for connection and wanting to do what is truly right, over the fear of being hurt and rejected. My personal fave example of how he worries for others’ safety is this seemingly smaller moment, but it’s honestly heartbreaking and reveals hell of a lot about who he is:

He is so terrified that Belos is back, quivering and exasperated, yet he doesn’t want Luz to call anyone else to help them: and in no way does he do this to show off or anything, he wants to protect his loved ones. But this tenacity that exists alongside his gentle spirit is what got him to rebel more and more throughout Season 2, leading him into greater danger and well..unfortunately all of that plot was also building up to what Belos did to him in Thanks to Them.

…yeah. Talk therapy is not what I think this kid needs right now, not till there is restored peace all around him. Because talk therapy requires quite a bit of usage of the brain’s prefrontal cortex - the part responsible for reasoning and logic - and it is activated when we are in conscious control of our thinking. And facts such as “My ‘uncle’ chose to lie to me my whole life” can’t be understood and analyzed in the same way as a math problem can be deciphered :’) How does one make sense of something like that?

Poor Hunter can only accept the reality that Belos chose to do all that, and a key part of this acceptance is to affirm his own strengths and believe he can accept such hard truths. To achieve such acceptance, treating his condition would most likely require subconscious work that is experiential in nature (involving deeper parts of the mind than just the prefrontal cortex) as opposed to just analyzing and taking things apart. Because I don't think simply talking about this:

on top of a childhood of being manipulated, will get this poor kid to where he'd like to be.

My former supervisor calls experiential subconscious work “heart work”, not “head work”...i.e. experiencing one’s feelings and relationships in a safe space. All of Hunter’s military training and duties are most definitely “head work”, all about strategy and withholding trust, which means “heart work” - building trust and finding authenticity in his relationships - has been a new journey for him. His network of relationships and perceptions need a major, positive reframing. And there are so many emotional wounds, oh Titan, so many from Belos.

Hunter is likely to benefit from experiential subconscious work such as the increasingly popular Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) modality for therapy, because EMDR can be an effective treatment if a client experiences discomfort in the form of physical bodily sensations whenever their trauma is triggered, though it is not necessarily for everyone who suffers from trauma. A Boiling Isles version of EMDR might involve Illusion magic...if a therapist from that Coven can draw out mental images of clients to project into the therapy room, that would be a cool simulation and cool parallel of how therapy works in our world.

EMDR was the biggest, most revelatory thing for me in my own recovery but a coursemate of mine found it to be too much and too direct: instead, she benefited from the Emotion Freedom Technique (EFT) approach which was more physical in nature and relied on tapping acupressure points on the body. Idk, maybe I matched better with EMDR because I have an innate curiosity about things, even if it has gotten me in trouble many times in life (this sounds like Hunter as well) :S Whereas EFT was the better fit for my coursemate because she wanted a sense of attachment and connection with herself via the specific sense of touch.

Disclaimer: I am not yet certified in EMDR, god it will be years before I can afford the training fees but I have been on the receiving end of it as a client in many sessions. So I am no trained expert in it at all.

We see Hunter experiencing physical distress related to his trauma, which is why the EMDR technique, that aims to reduce trauma-related distress experienced in the physical body, could be the right match for him. Since he loves the Ruler’s Reach and Cosmic Frontier, he might like how EMDR is like letting your subconscious re-tell your story as a heroic triumphant story, and the treatment feels like rewriting your painful memories while still acknowledging how they actually happened. Because the treatment helped me learn that it is possible to hold both of those in your mind.

To sum up EMDR the best I can, the client replays their difficult memories in their subconscious imagination. It relies on a phenomenon called bilateral stimulation (BLS) which is related to how making left-and-right motions (e.g. going for walks, or swimming) while holding upsetting thoughts in our heads, helps to reduce the intensity of such thoughts.

The general process involves:

Helping the client prepare an imagined safe place to go to (Hunter might choose his fave location from Cosmic Frontier, since clients can choose fictional places if they like) and if needed, a safe person (he might choose Camila) to come rescue them in their mind, in case revisiting the bad memories becomes too distressing. The therapist gets the client to experience the safe place and person, then describe to the therapist what they see, hear, touch etc with as much detail as possible. There will be several practice rounds in those safe spaces, before the client is supposed to do the same imagination thing with their scary traumatic memories in later sessions: once they are experienced with visiting their safe places.

Desensitizing the pain and distress of traumatic memories, working through only one memory at a time, where the therapist gets the client to hold the painful memory in mind while also performing left-and-right physical movements e.g. client moves their eyes left and right, following the therapist's hand motions. The therapist regularly checks in with how the client feels and also measures 1. the intensity of the client’s distress (using the Subjective Units of Disturbance or SUD scale, on a scale of 1 to 10 where 10 is the highest distress level imaginable to the client) and 2. The strength of the client’s positive belief about themselves (using the VOC or Validity of Cognition scale, on a scale of 1 to 7, with 7 being complete trust in the positive belief). The aim is to reduce the SUD score to 0 or 1, and increase the VoC score to 7, per memory that the client decides to process with the therapist. This would definitely take at least 3 sessions per memory, based on my experience.

The desensitizing step takes multiple sessions (estimated to be 8-12 sessions for simpler traumas, and many more sessions for complex traumas) helps to make room for new positive beliefs about oneself e.g. “I am worthy of love” to take up more space in the client’s mind, while the emotional space taken up by negative beliefs like “I am unlovable” gets smaller and smaller.

In my experience as an EMDR client, you are just supposed to let your subconscious flow and alter each memory during the desensitizing, because it isn’t about how realistic the memory was, it’s about what meanings you’d like to put into the storyline of the memory e.g. going from “I deserved that abuse” to “You know what, I’m gonna try protect myself”. This means Hunter could incorporate his fave fictional scenes and elements into his own story. I found that my brain went from accurately replaying my traumatic memories, to adding in new things or replacing original parts of each memory. And best of all, I wasn’t actively choosing all these changes - I just let my subconscious run on its own, since it is outside my conscious control anyway. E.g. in a memory where my own abusive mother was yelling at me during a car ride, I saw a tall red tree (red is my fave colour and I feel strength whenever I see it) rapidly growing out of the road directly in front of us. It could cause my mother to lose control of the steering and brake hard, and I could quickly unlock the front passenger door to exit the car and run to my own safety. The most real thing about this was that I now got a taste of how it would feel to use strong boundaries with my mother in real life, and the coolest thing was seeing how my own brain went off on its own to write an encouraging story, which is what mattered and allowed my positive beliefs about myself to start taking root. It all started in my imagination, guided by the therapist.

The best way of putting it is..I realized that when the original traumatic events happened in my life, the bad events happened which then installed negative beliefs about myself (and the world) into my brain's programming, breaking my trust in almost everything except my escape spaces like gaming and art. With EMDR, after feeling the safety of trusting my therapist and my safe place, I had to let my brain create the positive version of the above: letting improved versions of those traumatic events be written by my subconscious: which helped to usher in the positive opposites of those negative beliefs.

It would be too lengthy to go into more detail here about how EMDR could help our boi, so I will instead cover that in my future case formulation post that is separate from this series. But EMDR is not the only way to reach a point of having positive beliefs about oneself. Some people may be able to reach that stage without therapy, using resources like a strong support network and doing meaningful work and activities, which is completely valid and fine as well.

EMDR was the tool that helped the book author reach her first ever breakthrough in her mental health journey. It helped her realize that stuff from so long ago, which she thought she had gotten over, needed to be revisited in order for her to start feeling love for her inner child and younger self. Feeling love for yourself and understanding self-love is very hard work, and it’s not the same as shrugging “Yeah, I guess it’s good to love yourself” and knowing it in theory as an observer.

That section of the book is sort of like how Hunter becomes more and more able to draw strength and other positive qualities e.g. courage, trust, etc, from himself, on his own. The rest of the Hexsquad and Camila came in to help and save Hunter first, which gently reinforced a healthy narrative over time that he is in fact deserving of love, getting him to believe along the lines of “You know what, I don’t want to try being useful to Belos anymore, because what he did to me and what he does as the Emperor is wrong”. This understand was further reinforced when he was the one to extend help to Gus towards the end of Labyrinth Runners.

Perhaps the biggest takeaway from this post is how Hunter’s friends helped to positively reshape the way he saw himself, when they modeled how healthy relationships should be for him. Many posts have already made in the fandom about how this was the case in every episode that Hunter was featured in (from Hunting Palismen onwards), so I’ll only show the recent examples from Thanks to Them below:

I like how during all of his screentime, it wasn’t obvious to us whether he had good beliefs about himself, right up until we see him at his happiest, in his cosplay outfit and secondly when he expresses his desires out loud to Belos while being possessed.

Learning healthy behaviours from positive influences outside of himself (sometimes, in therapy speak we call this “introducing a foreign element” outside of the client’s own familiar world, to introduce real change), because he had no reference points to draw upon from his own knowledge, is what got him to begin understanding and believing he deserves better. Such recovery work can’t happen within a vacuum, since no man is an island. Some form of connection is needed as a catalyst.

And ajhdhkjkljdfd I am so so proud of him that he could already practice these modeled behaviours himself at least a couple of times, supported by Flapjack's love, after being equipped with the love he needed:

Now, without Flapjack, I am on the edge of my seat wondering how he sees himself, and while he will never be the same again..I wonder how he will find his way back to liking who he is. I hope to see a more in-depth, layered and raw version of these where he has to face himself...and Flapjack is not going to be there this time..:

Especially since his “I like who I am right now” has been so greatly challenged by Flapjack dying by his own hands.

The author's breakthrough after meeting her younger self in her imagination, during her own EMDR sessions, was that she now understood in her heart, not just knowing in her rational head, that her parents did not provide her with healthy love. With that, it became clear what it was that she needed.

This is crazy important. Gradually, Hunter made his way from merely knowing (suspecting that the 'love' provided for him by Belos was not right) to fully understanding (feeling what love is supposed to be, through his friends and Camila). This concept references what I said very early on in this post about “heart work” vs “head work”. Head knowledge is the knowing part that looks for facts and can be reached quickly, but heart knowledge - trusting, believing, seeing the meaningful significance of something - can be tough to find without the aid of a support network, therapists and any form of meaningful inspiration.

The following life-changing truths that the author found in the challenging parts of her EMDR therapy sessions, are truths that were also revealed to Hunter in his character arc through difficult experiences:

I'm sure there will be amazing upcoming dialogue where his support network and found family help to further reaffirm the positive beliefs that he has began to trust about himself.

And that’s that for Part 2!

I wonder if any of the above was helpful, and feel free to comment and discuss in the notes.

Importantly, to put up a word of caution here: please do not try any EMDR on yourself under any circumstances, of course xD

Which stuff did you guys find the most interesting from this part? If anything above is pretty complex for you, feel free to DM me or comment to ask further questions~~

Part 3 will be posted next weekend.

#toh analysis #toh hunter #the owl house #toh flapjack #toh belos #emperor belos #hunter's abuse #hunter's trauma #hunter's cptsd #loz writes a meta

252 notes · View notes

fangbangerghoul · 4 months

Text

Snippet Sunday!

It is currently 12:07 AM EST and I am going ahead and post this bad boy, so I don't have to worry about it later!

This week has been full of lots of changes and honestly it has helped motivate me to write chapter 9 of Fleeting Pleasures a lot! I cannot believe I am on the second to last chapter of this long fic. It's blowing my mind.

Under the cut will be a portion of Sam Coe's POV after the events of Chapter 8 (which I highly suggest you read to understand the context!)

I am going to go ahead and tag my writers crew (if I didn't catch you, please let me know so I can add you!):

@bearlytolerant @silurisanguine @eridanidreams @a-cosmic-elf @staticpallour @toxiclizardwrites @therealgchu @5oh5 @booburry @atonalginger @aislingdmdt @thatsgoodsquishy0 @spookyspecterino @lisa-and-shadow @samcoesclub

Chapter 9: bad decisions

Snippet of Sam's POV:

He heard a knock on the bathroom and it pushed him out the sinkhole of his thoughts. Whenever he thought about it he would run himself in circles and ride a rollercoaster of emotions that always finished with a new kind of despair he wasn’t used to.

“I’m coming out.” He grumbled, throwing his toothbrush back into the cup that was on the sink and took one last minute to splash cold water on his face. Something to shock his system back to normal. Sam reached to grab the door, ignoring the glimpse of his dull blue eyes in the mirror and when the wood door opened, Barrette was on the other side. He gave his usual awkward grin and did a small wave.

“Good morning, Sam! Have you been sleeping better since Noel gave you that herbal tea to try?” He asked so casually about a subject Sam had never remembered mentioning to him. Normally he would have shrugged it off but this time it irked him in particular. The members of Constellation were more prone to talk to him in soft voices or speak about his business more openly when he wasn’t around. It made his skin crawl.

“No.” Sam said plainly, staring Barret down for a moment before relaxing his shoulders. He was trying to get comfortable around those he considered family again. However the transition from consistently raiding and interrogating Crimson Fleet members to having normal mundane conversation was an adjustment. “Good morning though.”

Sam walked past him, careful not to bump into Barrett as he walked by. He didn’t like it when someone brushed against his left side even after the wound had fully healed. Sam also didn’t like to think about that fact so he just kept on moving. He was ready to eat.

On his way to the eating area he stopped by his room one more time to grab a mahogany robe to wrap around his loose white tee and baggy gray sweatpants. The elastic sometimes didn’t stay around his hips and would occasionally sag so in order to protect everyone around him from seeing the moon so early in the day he liked to wear his robe. His slippers dragged a bit as he walked like he was taking a sunday stroll through a park. Sam was never in a hurry to get anywhere, to do anything really.

“Dad!” He heard the young squeak of his daughter from around the corner and Cora ran up to him and hugged him tight. He winced instinctively but tried to catch himself so she wouldn’t think she hurt him. Her curls were bouncing and wild and the smile on her face was brighter than any star he had seen in a long while. Seeing Cora always gave him a little bit of his life back especially after being separated from her for as long as they were.

“Hey sweet pea.” He rubbed her back gently in the embrace and kept his arm around her as he led them forward. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Dad it’s noon.”

“Oh, what are you doing up so late then?” He smiled at her teasingly.

“Daaaad.” She said in protest as she pushed herself away from him gently. “Were you going to come to the meeting later today?”

“Meeting?” He was puzzled at her question. Sam didn’t know of any meeting, not one that needed to involve him.

“Ms. Morgan was talking to Walter earlier and I heard them say when Andreja and Vlad arrive they were going to have a discussion.” Cora said with a bit of concern in her tone. Sam knew if she had heard that much then she was all too aware that the meeting was about Ghoul.

“Is that so?” He asked with a cool tone trying not to give away any concern he may have felt. He still didn’t have the heart to tell Cora that Ghoul did this to him. Even though the other’s had continued their recent pattern of talking about his well being behind his back he figured how much further would that subject be?

“Yeah! Dad, what are you eating for late breakfast?”

“Cheese pizza, if you are asking.” He said with a sly smirk.

#starfield #sam coe #starfield fanfiction #coemancer #sam coe fanfiction #starfield fanfic #fang writes #snippet sunday #cora coe

18 notes · View notes

ducktracy · 9 months

Note

I'm sure you've addressed this before:

How come Bugs Bunny is occasionally staring me down with death eyes in the intro of a Looney Tunes cartoon? Why is he so mad?

this ask—like everything else in my inbox—has been ruminating for awhile, and part of that is because i didn’t have an answer! i truly did not know other than “uhhhhh Art Davis animates one version of it :)”. but. i am thrilled to say that i DO have some speculation! and it is complete speculation and interpretation, nothing more, but it’s something! SO

the first short to have that title variant is Tex Avery’s The Heckling Hare. it’s pretty important to note Avery’s involvement here—his Bugs was very wily and combative. it could depend on the needs of the cartoon—he’s pretty cool and calm in A Wild Hare, and at least comparatively so (save for some moments) in The Heckling Hare. Tortoise Beats Hare has him ranting and raving as soon as the cartoon starts, driven by rage and conceit throughout the whole thing; it’s been a few years since i’ve seen All This and Rabbit Stew, and i’ve only seen it once, but my recollection is that Bugs was pretty reactionary in that one too.

i think noting its attachment to The Heckling Hare in particular is also important because the cartoon’s titles follow that same principle—a confrontational Bugs looms over the typography, obscuring the audience’s view and thereby heckling even them, too. likewise, his arms are bent and on his hips, shadow cast at a diagonal angle, which immediately reads as confrontational and aggressive. i don’t think the Bugs on the shield logo was made explicitly for this cartoon and nothing else, but knowing that this short opens with a particularly aggressive tone, it does add some context as to why he behaves the way he does.

MY POINT BEING that Avery’s Bugs is much more aggressive than the Bugs we know today. thus, that was reflected in the opening titles—whereas most titles with cartoon characters in them were pleasant and amiable (Woody Woodpecker pecks holes and laughs! Popeye blows his pipe! Porky—later to be accompanied by Daffy—continually greets the audience with his happy, shining mug!), Bugs greets you with contempt and disdain. you’re intruding on his privacy; he makes a point to remind you that his time could be much better spent chewing carrots and luxuriating rather than entertaining your attention, but he’ll do it anyway.

obviously, Bugs got less abrasive as his personality was explored more in-depth. so, there comes a little bit of a dissonance when stretching into the mid ‘40s or so. that Art Davis variation (basically, the one where Bugs looks like Bugs) is fashioned after a synonymous intro that was more representative of the Bugs of its time. by 1945 or whenever the intro started appearing, he was much more mellow and less confrontational/disdainful, so having him seem so angry does kind of feel out of nowhere. but it isn’t! it just rides on the coattails of a previous variant that was more applicable for its time

#(if it’s not obvious i started drafting up my analysis of The Heckling Hare HAHA)#thanks for your patience and asking this! it’s fun to mull on #asks #mitchumsstinkums

43 notes · View notes

briebysabs · 2 years

Text

I want to talk about vnc chapter 12/episode 7

Why? Because I need to finally rant so just bare with me *inhales* WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS I DON’T THINK WE LOSE OUR MINDS ENOUGH

I almost want to go panel by panel bc I still can’t believe this chapter exists. When I’m seriously interpreting/analyzing something in a series I try to look from an objective POV. Basically I push aside my shipper heart to see what the author is trying to do canonically. But every time I go back to this specific chapter, the only thing I get out of it is that Noé is going to fall in love with Vanitas. And for the first time, I feel like this is a possibility that could actually happen and that’s crazy. So okay let me go slowly bc what?!!!

First of all, the chapter frames Noé, Vanitas, and Jeanne in certain perspectives quite oddly. The anime does too so that’s why some believe Noé likes Jeanne instead. Which kinda doesn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Now there can definitely be some vampiric connection between the two.

But in terms of romantic interest, it doesn’t add up. Hell we’re 40 + chapters ahead of this one and I can count on my fingers how many lines they’ve said to each other. So if Noé liked Jeanne, it definitely would’ve come back into play by now. After Vani and Jeanne run off, Noé goes after them immediately. And given we’ve seen how fast he is, it’s most likely he heard and also saw their encounter. Meaning Noé knows 1) the uncertainty of Jeanne being a curse-bearer or not 2) her deal with sucking only Vanitas’ blood.

Now mind you, this was 44 chapters ago and Noé still has not told anyone this. Going back to him being good at keeping secrets but that’s it’s own topic. Then he gets this sad look on his face. Now what he ends up telling Domi is the truth. And I want to be more clear on this. I do not think at this point in the story Noé loves Vanitas. It’s more so how this chapter ends is what leaves me stunned but we’ll get there. Plus the fact that Domi, till now, thinks Noé likes Jeanne IS VERY PROOF THAT’S NOT THE CASE.

So when you do the process of elimination, Vanitas is the only logical answer!!! And this freaking line. This is a strong statement for someone whose only upset about a missed opportunity to taste some blood.

His heart was in pain. WHAT THE FUCK

But that’s the thing. Noé doesn’t lie. But he omits A LOT. It also can be that he just doesn’t fully understand so his mind jumps to the obvious conclusion. But if he does think there’s more to it, Noé didn’t tell Domi. Now we get the real meat of it all. Oh my lord so Noé poses the question: Why don’t Vanitas dance with Jeanne? And Vanitas gives the excuse that he’ll accidentally step on her. We later find out he can dance just fine, so perhaps a part of him is already giving distance. Not willing to be close to Jeanne beyond teasing.

Now...MOCHIJUN DID NOT HAVE TO DRAW IT LIKE THIS. She could’ve had Noé smiling and pull Vanitas in to dance without any close-ups. She could’ve made it a silly moment but no, we are meant to take this scene seriously

I’ve noticed Noé has a number of scenes that there’s a small panel to the side where his eyes are covered. And I think a lot of the time it was a moment involving Vani. It gives off the impression that Noé is feeling something the author doesn’t want to make obvious.

And then we get the fucking line. Let’s say I’m reading this all wrong. The fact that mochijun has her two male protagonists dancing together as one asks ‘what is love?’ Is proof that she is at the very least, not unwilling to go there. LIKE DO WE KNOW HOW WILD THIS REALLY IS? I truly believe the fandom accepted this moment way too casually.

Noé asking almost contemplative what Vanitas sees in Jeanne. Remember he knows Vanitas wants Jeanne to suck only his blood. He is confused why Vanitas suddenly gravitates to Jeanne. Vanitas lists his reasons, one that includes that she’ll never love him back. Noé is rightfully confused by this but Vanitas states that she doesn’t have to love him back. If mochijun wants to go the romantic route for Noe’s ‘love’ IT WILL BE EXACTLY THIS. Because if she goes the romantic direction. First and foremost, I will have the highest respect for this woman bc I know she must’ve entered a battlefield for that to happen. But more so, if my interpretation of all this is right. Noé may never tell Vanitas. Think about it.

Noé believes Vanitas loves Jeanne. So out of kindness for Vani’s happiness, he wouldn’t say anything. That’s just the type of person Noé is. But also, the amount of effort, time, and vulnerability it took for Noé to get as close as he is with Vani. You think he’s going to risk jeopardizing ALL of that? And that’s the tragedy and beauty of it all. Vanitas doesn’t have to know that Noé loves him. No one has to know. But if again, this possibility is canon, we the audience know it’s going to be a inevitable regret down the line.

Finally the chapter concludes with future Noé narrating how this feeling will be a mystery for quite some time. I’d like to point out how Vanitas didn’t dance with Jeanne in fear of stepping on her toes but Noé does exactly that to him. Honestly my second favorite chapter. It felt like seeds were being planted for them to sprout into fruition later on. So many little details felt purposeful and it was the moment I really believed in vnc’s writing.

315 notes · View notes