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strawbrrycuteblog · 8 months ago

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Hiiiiii,Just a quick ask.

Hybridjungwon!

kitten jungwon feels so needy during his heat cycle,and if you piss him off by the slightest he won't hesitate to get off teasing you for hours as he comes almost everywhere on your body even in you not letting you get off until the last 5 minutes before he falls asleep happily dripping naked with his own juices.

xx,I love your work and I don't see many writers who like hybrid enha so I'm grateful that you like it ,I'm not alone.xx ily <3

Feeling faint.

Pairings: hybrid!jungwon x human!reader

Warnings: mature story, jungwon calls reader slut, kinda filth?, cum play a little, messy, cussing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) , reader annoying wonie, hard Dom jungwon ☺️ reader has pussy btw

A/n: This. Is. My. Favorite. Ask. So. Far.

jungwon had been sitting on the couch for an hour now, trying to distract himself from fucking the living shit out of you, watching many episodes of some show he didn’t every remember the name of all while you were next to him, pinching him softly but enough to piss him off, “y/n I’m not fucking joking, quit it.”

you only laughed at this, “well if I do then what am I gonna do? I’ll be bored.” you continued to pinch him then poke his cheeks, “you’re such a baby.”

His eyes narrowed as you toyed with him, his powerful hand reaching down to grab your wrist tightly before pulling it towards him, forcing you onto your lap. “Here,” you heard him say through gritted teeth, “is where you belong when you want to annoy me.” He began rubbing your hips roughly against his growing bulge, causing both of you to moan. As his excitement grew and you felt him pulsing against you, he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “I'll make sure you regret ever annoying me again. Would you like that?”

you let a moan slip but quickly thought of a bratty remark, “as if you could even make me come.”

Chuckling darkly, Jungwon eventually removed your clothing, leaving you practically naked, save for the lacy red thong you wore. He stared at you hungrily before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his impressive masculine form. "Watch your mouth, slut," he growled, bending over to pull off your underwear, throwing them aside roughly. With one final smirk, he sank down onto the couch, positioning you above him, his cock already throbbing against your entrance. "Try saying that to me now."

you tried to move so his cock head would go inside of your dripping heat, but he barely let you move. “wonie please..I’m sorry..”

"Apologies mean nothing right now, bloodslut," Jungwon murmured, his grip tightening around your waist as he pulled you closer, finally allowing his length to slide into you in one swift motion. You gasped at the sudden invasion, welcoming his girth inside you. "This is what happens when you annoy the wrong person," he reminded you, thrusting into you hard and fast, taking exactly what he wanted while dominating you.

The ecstasy and pain mixed within you only made you crave more, pushing back against him as much as you could, your nails digging into his chest. "Fuck!" you cried out, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m not a bloodslut.” you remarked to defend yourself, the intrusion witching your warmth had you whole body twitching, sucking him in but he wasn’t gonna let you cum.

Jungwon's smirk remained as he slammed into you relentlessly, each thrust driving him deeper inside you. "Whatever you want to call yourself, you're mine when I claim you," he said, grasping your hips tighter to keep you in place. His other hand traveled up to tweak your sensitive nipples, knowing just how much that would irritate your body in the best way possible. Every harsh thrust of his pelvis against yours brought you closer to the edge, but he refused to let you fall over it yet. Your combined bodies sweat-soaked and tangled together created a beautiful sight as they moved in tandem, filling the room with wet, slapping sounds. "Goddamn, you're so fucking sexy when you scream my name."

“jungwon im gonna cum!” you screamed out, clenching around his member, every small vein rubbing inside of you just right.

Feeling your inner muscles tighten around him was the trigger Jungwon needed, sending him spiraling over the edge of release. With a strained groan, pounding into your womb and stretching you beautifully wide. Hearing and sensing you were about to cum, he pulled out, following him by cumming on your tummy, he didn’t even expect him to finish so fast but he knew he wasn’t done. Far from it.

you started to move before he pushed you down on the couch, “you didn’t think that was it did you?” he spoke hardly, “I’m gonna ruin you, maybe even make you cry.” he spoke again before he stucked his fingers back inside of you, scissoring them and rubbing your gummy walls until he curled his fingers and touched your g-spot, “jungwon im still sensitive!”

Despite your protests, jungwon couldn't help but revel in torturing your sensitive core. He moved his fingers in a circular pattern, driving you wild with heightened need once again. "Shut up, whore," he growled possessively before swiping his thumb across your clit, causing you to collapse further into the couch. Your body writhed beneath his skilled touch, every nerve ending shimmering with pleasure. He continued to torment you, having full control over your body as your moans filled the air. Finally, he couldn't resist any longer, plunging his fingers in deep and pumping them insistentely, making you see stars as you climaxed hard around them. Only then did he remove his fingers, leaving you spent and quivering on the couch, panting heavily. "And that was just round one," he whispered menacingly, running his hands lightly up and down your shaking legs.

“I can’t do more..” coming out of your mouth whilst looking at him, crawling from him before he grabbed your hips and pressed his body against you, “so we’re just disobeying me now?” His ears flickered “don’t think I won’t torture you all night.

And he did, for the next two hours he hand you upstairs, your hips jerking and pulling in different angles, you’re sure the sheets were soaked, you’d squirted so many times already.

“Jungwon I can’t give more..” you repeated like earlier, he only jerked off in front of your face, glazing it with the salty cum, lightly tapping it against your lips, “open.”

And you did, taking his length into your warm, welcoming mouth. Groans came from his lips, his hips pushing against your face, making your head press into the mattress.

You hallowed your cheeks, the invasion of his head in your sore throat brought tears to your eyes, gagging around him but not stopping, wanting to please him until the very end.

Jungwons body was sweaty and half covered in your juices, the other half being his own. His cum was splattered along your body, from you ankles to your knees, thighs, stomach. Anywhere he could jerk off on.

“Such a warm mouth baby..”

You couldn’t stop your self from grinding against nothing, wanting to cum so so bad knowing you probably wouldn’t get it.

You moved your hand and took a hold of hid balls, squeezing them which made him mewl, you didn’t understand how he wasn’t shooting blanks at this point, did his heat mean an endless supply of semen or something?

Cause that’s for sure what this fucking felt like.

His hips stuttered and his tail wrapped around your head, pushing you face until your nose met his hair which were trimmed but still there. “Ah! Y/n! Yes yes yes!!”

He pulled out, you stuck your tongue out, showing him you’d swallowed it and he smirked, “after all this..” he panted. “You deserve a reward don’t you think?”

You sat up, if you had a tail it would be wagging so much right now. But you didn’t know if you could handle another round, you’d probably be the one having blanks.

Jungwon took his sensitive dick in his hand again, pumping it a few times to get it hard as he hissed, it didn’t take much when he was in heat, he got hard even just smelling your pillow. He took the tip, aligning it with the warm hole he already wanted to ruin.

He plunged deep into you, gasps eliciting from both parties as he looked at you, your eyes were nearly closing, he realized you were about to faint on him, the pleasure being too much as you were both exceedingly over stimulated, “hey, open those pretty eyes for me baby.”

He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, hitting against your g-spot, his cock going over it again and again, you opened your eyes.

“That’s it, look at me yeah?”

You nodded, trying to not faint, high pitched whines drawing out of your throat, you squeaked as he sped up, you pulled him close and he tried to keep his dominant look up, but losing it while he saw how helpless you looked, he always loved how desperate you got to having an orgasm. He pulled almost all the way out before slapping back in and making you cum, your mouth agape, back arched, stopped breathing for a second as you seemed to be in a sub space.

He only collapsed on top of you, both covered in sweat and juices, his cum seeping out of whatever side it could escape from, he pulled the blanket over y’all as you’d finally passed out. Both weak and almost shaky. Eventually over the next few minutes you both fell asleep.

#enhypen #enha smut #enhypen drabbles #mwah <3 #jungwon enha #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon #jungwon #filthy thoughts #mature theme #mature story #strawbrrycuteblog #mwah mwah #ty for the ask <3

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awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce · 11 months ago

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Peace At Last

A purely self-indulgent Ten x Reader fic because I just love Ten so much okay! (gif made by me)

Let me know what you think!

Read on ao3

Tagging some people I’ve recently followed who I think might like it: @denaliwrites @tatennant @doctor-donnaa @quite-right-too @theetherealbloom @my-lonely-angel @casasupernovas @kbishop @tennant @raining-stars-somewhere-else @davidtennan-t

Ten x Reader, she/her/hers pronouns, one use of Y/N

(Sorry if this causes pain especially since it’s the last episode with Fourteen and David Tennant as The Doctor today. Wishing everyone so much love and hope you can cope with the pain we will all be experiencing in 5 hours!)

They bumped into each other.

Literally.

He wasn’t looking where he was going, just trying to focus on not collapsing in the street before he could make it back to the TARDIS, and she was coming out of a shop.

This was almost the end.

He could feel it.

He felt it when he saw Rose but he couldn’t let go.

Not yet.

He had one more stop.

He wanted to be near where she lived.

He just wanted to be near her.

One last time.

He didn’t want to wipe her memory but he had to.

It wasn’t like it was with Donna but he knew that one day she would die because of him and he didn’t want that.

He couldn’t bear the thought.

It had to be done so she could live and she never would have left of her own accord. She would never leave him willingly so what other choice did he have?

Especially after trying to change time and becoming The Time Lord Victorious. Look how that turned out.

Adelaide Brooke still died only it was his fault instead of it being an accident.

“Oh shit! Sorry! I should have been looking where I was going!” A voice said.

“No, it’s m-” He knew that voice. His luck really was great(!)

He must’ve paused for a beat too long because she spoke again. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

That was her all over. Always worrying and caring about others (him especially).

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just feeling a bit under-the-weather. Winter and all, you know?” His voice didn’t sound like him. It was nervous, slightly high-pitched, and shook a little. He hoped that she didn’t know that there was something wrong.

“I know. You might want to invest in some actual winter clothes though to keep you warm. Converse and winter are not the best combination,” she laughed, looking him up and down at his unusual (to her now anyway) attire.

He could’ve cried and hugged her at hearing the jibe she’s told him multiple times while travelling with him. Instead, he forced himself to laugh and smile at her.

“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe one day,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. A habit that he had developed when he was nervous.

She would have noticed and usually tried to comfort him. But not now. The thought made his hearts ache.

“Sorry but do I know you?” She asked, staring at him with a slight frown. His hearts leapt into his throat. “You just seem so familiar. What’s your name?”

He quickly composed himself before replying with a classic phrase. “No, sorry, I don’t think you do. I guess I just have one of those faces. Name’s David. David Smith.”

She had told him to stop with the John Smith alias as “no-one believes that’s your name. I may as well call myself Jane Doe.” So he had changed it as soon as he wiped her mind. Just in case he ever saw her again and the name John Smith made her remember.

“David…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to place the name, still slightly frowning until the crease between her eyebrows eased. “I guess you do just face on of those faces. Sorry about that,” she finished, smiling sheepishly.

He mentally released a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.

“No worries,” he replied, smiling to try to ease her embarrassment that he knew she was feeling.

She may not remember him but he still knew her like the back of every hand he’s ever had.

They stood there for a few moments, longer than two seemingly strangers should, just smiling at each other before she looked away, a light blush colouring her already flushed cheeks from the cold.

His hearts ached again and pain filled his entire being.

He would never get to see her blush from embarrassment due to looking at him for too long again.

“I should probably go before the snow gets worse,” she said.

He looked around and noticed that the snow had started to get heavier since they had been talking.

“Of course. Get home safe.” His voice cracked. Home should be in the TARDIS with him.

“You too. Before you go,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as he was turning the leave.

He could feel the pain of having to leave her almost bring him to his knees due to feeling her touch again. It had felt so long since he had felt that and he never wanted her to stop.

He would never feel her comforting touch or her hand in his again and he was starting to break

She was rummaging through her bag and took out a blue scarf. TARDIS blue.

“Here,” she said softly as she leaned up on her tip toes and wrapped it around his neck. “I don’t know why but I just bought this. It’s not really my thing and I don’t have anyone else to give it to but there was something in my mind that urged me to buy it. Maybe this was fate,” she chuckled. “There! Looks great!” She grinned, smoothing out the scarf and his breath caught as her fingers grazed the back of his head.

“Thank you, he responded quietly, tears filling his eyes “Truly. Thank you.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of them.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, just as quietly as him, and blushed once more.

He let go of her hands and took a step back. He swore that he saw disappointment on her face at that.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long as she had thrown her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, taking a deep breath of him in.

He wasn’t sure if his hearts had stopped completely or if they were beating so fast that he couldn’t feel them beating properly anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, taking in the familiar and comforting scent.

The hug ended as quickly as it had started but before he could feel too disappointed, she had placed her hands on his shoulders, almost wrapping her arms around his neck like the scarf was, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

She stepped back and smiled brightly at him

“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she said as she walked away.

He was frozen.

Did she just-?

Could she-?

No.

She couldn’t remember him.

Could she?

His brain was working faster than normal.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he called after her before he knew was he was doing.

She briefly turned back and waved, that beautiful smile still on her lips, lighting up her whole face.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, turning the corner as quickly as he could to find the TARDIS before him.

He could feel the old girl humming happily in his head and he smiled at her in return.

The image of his love didn’t leave his mind.

Not even as he noticed Ood Sigma.

Not even as he started to feel the pain of death returning.

Even when the Ood started singing to him and he felt himself burning, he could still see her.

Her smile bright and warm, helping him find peace.

At last.

~ A few streets away ~

“Huh. That was weird,” she said out loud.

Shrugging, she entered a café, still smiling and felt a warmth that travelled deep into her soul.

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solitaryandwandering · 10 days ago

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A Ramble: Love in the Big City Eps 5-6

Well, @lurkingshan welcomed me into this house of pain and I set up camp with full awareness of what awaited me. And yet. And yet. I cried so sadly at the end of episode 6. Genuinely, I don't think I've been this heartbroken watching anything recently. Gyu-ho is so wonderful. He didn't deserve Yeong shutting him out like that. But in the end, they just weren't right for each other. Not with all the heaviness Yeong carries with him, now. And poor Yeong. He was never malicious, never truly wanted to hurt Gyu-ho, but he's in so much pain. He's never been in a relationship like this, which asked for so little (yet so much). And so, here are my scattered, discombobulated thoughts.

On the cinematography front, I continued to geek out over how well each director is communicating Yeong's internal and external worlds. The last section saw Hur Jin Ho start to darken Yeong's world around the edges, still taking full advantage of environment and space. In this section, Hong Ji Young is much more economical. We have tighter shots, more close-ups (especially extreme) and fewer wide shots. Since we are much more in Yeong's head we are forced more into his perspective - what he is seeing takes precedence over placing an audience emotionally in a scene. Her direction is less stylized (which is not to say there aren't creative uses of camera) but that's not to say she lacks a stylistic vision. Rather, where prior sections relied more on movement or camera placement, Hong let lighting do much of the talking.

I mentioned yesterday that this section's color palette seemed more muted in comparison. Episode 6 was brighter but saturation didn't really change all that much, at least not from my perspective. What enhanced this perspective was Yeong's clothing, which was almost austere in comparison to how he dressed in the past. He's in dark colors, usually black, with stern or severe silhouettes. I think he's in lighter colors at work but that's it? Those are still pretty washed-out. I was especially taken with his long black coat, which has to have appeared in the past but I didn't notice it like I did in these episodes. It's like he never left the funeral garb behind. His long coat actually reminded me of Yeong Su's coloring style-wise (and of the brown coat he wears during their break-up). But maybe that's just me. I just can't let go of the ways I think we're visually supposed to see him haunting Yeong, especially after that dream sequence in episode 5. His clothing just seems... older. It reminds me of both of his older partners; maybe he feels like he needs to emulate them? Maybe he feels like he's not mature enough? I could also see Yeong Su showing up in the way Yeong broke up with Gyu-ho, though I think Yeong was catching himself from fully leaning into that. He smiled, he didn't answer Gyu-ho's questions or give any empty reasons, and so on. Yet, he still achieved that same cold detachment. Yeong Su is certainly there in the way Yeong carries himself: ramrod straight. Much of his looseness or vivacity in past episodes is gone. Could not get over how dead his eyes felt in this section.

Anyway, back to cinematography. It felt like to me the lighting was creating a slightly blurred effect, like we were seeing certain things in a haze. Obviously this is in one way a reflection of his depression. Sometimes it felt like it was reminiscent of him wading through a fog, of memories, trauma, dissociation, whatever it may be. In both episodes there is also really cool use of illumination of objects, people, or scenes. In episode 5 there's a scene where he is in his mom’s (oppressively dark) place and a single shaft of light cuts across pictures on the wall. Intentional darkening is used just as often as illumination or brightening. I'm pretty sure every time we get an extreme close-up of Gyu-ho's eyes they are cast in darkness rather than light, which is what you would assume would happen if he were, like, gazing into the eyes of someone he loves. But instead, he's in the dark. In one scene he is hanging up curtains in Yeong's apartment and turns from the light outside (towards Yeong in the dark). When we cut to the close-up we can still see a sliver of light behind him which casts him in darkness. He brings light but Yeong cannot receive it. Lighting (or lack of it) in this section more than in other parts colors/represents what Yeong feels, how he sees others, what he chooses to look at or acknowledge.

In line with that, I really appreciated that this director chose not to overly-romanticize this part. I know the original author wrote the screenplay so that is in part why it didn't feel that way but I do think in a lesser director's hands it could have been very easy to lean into Kdrama romanticism. Without having read the book I was concerned this section would feel like fan-service rather than a continuation of the overall story. I am so relieved not to feel manipulated. Beautifully mundane and sad!!

And can I just say, I love what a complicated and real character Yeong is?? I love him so much even while he infuriates me. Even while he allows his past traumas to influence this relationship with Gyu-ho. And I actually wonder about his motivations in pursuing Gyu-ho? He's obviously very attracted to him and has good chemistry with him in general, so it's not that I think he went into the relationship with false pretenses. But he obviously knows it's not the right time for what he feels like he wants, which is a serious relationship. Initially as he walks away from the subway he turns to go back when girls run by him and one screams that her mother will kill her for missing the last train. Is it a “fuck you” to her that he decides to go after him? A feeling that he wants to live his life, pursue happiness in spite of this oppressive grief he feels? So much to untangle there. He's nothing if not fully human.

The last thing I wanted to get out of my head in this ramble was my thoughts about what themes I detected in this section. So here's what I’m thinking of: distance, shame, and honesty/communication.

All throughout this section I just kept hurting at how detached Yeong seemed from himself and everything around him. Completely distanced from his emotions. He goes into the relationship already with distance since he’s fresh off two horrible traumas, especially that of losing his mom. And he allows every small moment of perceived distance (mostly Gyu-ho not sticking to pre-established patterns Yeong has grown used to in his relationship to sex and intimacy) to widen that gulf. Writing is his passion but with each new rejection he allows himself to drown in it and creates even more distance. He's writing out reflections of their relationship instead of living it. Observing instead of feeling. He begins to enforce the distance he felt in his last relationship - all he wants is attention but is unwilling or unable to give it in this go-around. Even in the ways he opens up to Gyu-ho he maintains his fake-happy, carefree persona. Smiles are weaponized as a distancing tool. And in speaking with Gyu-ho he also can't resist making small digs at him about his job or intelligence. Gyu-ho is not given much opportunity to bridge distance even as they move in together. And what can Gyu-ho do when he is constantly rebuffed? He runs away, looks to fill the void with attention from other men. Returns, only for the cycle to begin again. "Constant goodbyes" as I believe Yeong puts it. As soon as their relationship begins he puts them in the rear view mirror. It's like he moves through much of their relationship as a representation of himself rather than as Yeong, himself. A shadow. When he actually places them in the rear view at the end of episode 6 he says "I guess you'll remember me as a joke you once heard a long time ago... The world's dirtiest joke."

Shame was the biggest thing coming up for me in these two episodes. For obvious reasons, of course. The reveal of his HIV (or "Kylie" which is his way of putting distance between himself and the disease, casting it in anonymity) was as shocking as it was expected. As an aside, this somewhat vindicated my personal interpretation of Kim Nam Gyu's death and subsequent empty funeral as a connection to the deaths of gay men with AIDS (including my uncle). I don't actually think they were necessarily trying to draw a line between the two but it hit me like a crowbar over the head so!

But yeah, Kylie is the obvious connection to that theme of shame. HIV in general carries a HUGE stigma globally, so much so that many countries including China (as we saw) have strict rules for travel of HIV+ folks. As far as I can tell in my brief search online, China ostensibly allows HIV-positive foreigners to come to the country but only for a period no greater than 90 days after which they will (and have) deported people. And that's just their official stance. Yeong discovered his status in maybe the worst way possible, in the military from a homophobic doctor, which colors the way he approaches it from then on. Medically discharged (as a reference, in the U.S. HIV-positive people are allowed to serve if they are asymptomatic and have an undetectable viral load, not sure how it is in Korea) he doesn't even tell his queer friends. This part made me so sad. How the queer community can shut other people out for something like this is deplorable especially considering our history. The T-aras demonstrate themselves to be bigoted in their negative regard of those with or suspected of having HIV, literally telling each other to "cover their glasses" when they see someone in the club who has been rumored to be positive. Yeong can’t wrap his head around being accepted for such a thing or as himself in general. Yeong traps himself in assumptions he makes of others and of himself. In some ways, those expectations are reinforced.

I wondered at why Yeong chose to tell Gyu-ho his status before anyone else. A part of me wonders if he intended this as another weapon of distance, so sure of this as being the thing that would cause Gyu-ho to run. I think he was completely unprepared for his total acceptance (he asks to ask for confirmation of his sincerity later in Bangkok) though it did make him happy. And once he has that acceptance he has no idea what to do with it. He is constantly pushing Gyu-ho away, only knowing how to ask for and accept the intimacy that comes with sex (which is - unprotected - what gave him HIV in the first place). He wants that easy fun he felt as a younger queer but is struggling to heal in this undemanding relationship. All Gyu-ho wants is quality time, emotional connection, a place to call home. Yeong has wanted this, needed this in the past but denied it time and time again he doesn't know what to do when granted the opportunity to have it. Gyu-ho doesn't want Yeong to be anybody except himself, gives him space and has healthy boundaries (practically non-existent in past romantic/platonic/familial relationships). He has nothing to fight against except himself and a world that doesn’t want him. Fighting against faceless rejections from publishers and bigoted HIV attitudes and restrictions are abstract battles, larger than just one person. When facing a bland job which wants a certain imagined version of him he can face off against his boss but she doesn't even show up in a way he can solidly face off against (wearing headphones blasting loud music, for instance). All he can do is fight Gyu-ho who doesn't even give him the battle he wants.

Gyu-ho is the first he tells about Kylie and it kinda feels like he’s punishing him for it sometimes? I’m not sure how much he shares about himself with him other than that. I don’t think Gyu-ho knows that his mom had just died when they started dating or about his past with Yeong-su. Gyu-ho assumes he has his life together and says he can’t understand what it is like to want something of your own. Yeong does nothing to dissuade him of the fact. He knows Gyu-ho can tell he's distancing himself and that makes him even more ashamed in himself and makes him lash out. Against the only person who knows his deepest secret and has wholly accepted him for it. How could he not hate himself for rejecting what he's always wanted?

Mi Ae shows up as another specter of his shame, using him as a prop. It is here that he becomes relegated to the "gay best friend" trope. To Mi Ae, he is perhaps the biggest representation of her "dirtier" or "shameful" past. She uses him to appear cooler to her younger sister-in-law(?) without fully claiming their relationship. The sister-in-law even jokingly flirts with him in the bar. Literally flaunting heteronormativity in his face. It does not feel as if he can fully own himself anymore. And when Gyu-ho moves in, they live together in a place Gyu-ho sees as his but was originally Mi Ae's, a place he was abandoned in, a place he tried to kill himself in. Shame festers and breeds in this space.

Honesty and communication is what bridges the gap, what heals shame. Yet, that is what Yeong cannot bring himself to do. He’s unmotivated to make a change in his approach to Gyu-ho and uses reticence as even more of an obstacle to genuine connection. He’s ashamed of himself and thinks of himself as dirty, undesirable. Yeong doesn’t even tell Gyu-ho about the HIV restrictions that keep him from applying to the job in China. Easy way out of their relationship, maybe, but it’s more about clinging to shame (is his shame is his remaining connection to his mom?). And in the end, he can’t even give him an honest break-up. His opinion of himself is so low he can’t help but prove it right. I think he sees Gyu-ho shrink into himself and comes to the conclusion he takes up too much space. ("I wonder why you sleep in silence. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe it's yours. Or maybe it was inevitable.")

In prior episodes Yeong's loves came in pairs: Mi Ae/Nam Gyu, Yeong Su/his mother. I wonder if Gyu-ho is the only love represented here. In prior sections love was more or less freely felt or offered even if toxic or lacking honesty. Unable to crack through Yeong's loneliness. Maybe the pair here is the absence of self-love. Or the absence of Yeong's ability to place his love in something external. In this section Gyu-ho shows him the love he was missing and wanted in prior sections but he is no longer open to it. He cannot show that love to himself. And maybe that's represented in the city, in Seoul. Big, teeming with potential, but also a lonely chasm where souls go to be lost.

Yikes, that was long. Largely nonsensical, I'm sure. I am terrified for how this show will end. This episode more than any other made me want to read the book RIGHT NOW (and make my brother read it). That's the sign of a good adaptation!

#love in the big city #megan watches #it's me #spoilers

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toodleoorblx · 16 days ago

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Heliotropes

Rio Vidal x Agatha Harkness Word count: 2,464

Summary: Agatha allows Nicky to go to a nearby flower patch. Only if she comes with. Who waits for them there kick starts something that Agatha never thought could be possible again. (Chapter 1 - /5) Warnings: Angst with hope A/N: Fixing up Marvels Agatha All Along episode bc Marvel sometimes sucks :(

Chapter 1: A bouquet of flowers

Agatha sits with her back pressed firmly against the damp, knotted bark of an ancient oak. The earth beneath her is soft from the morning rain, fragrant with the heady smell of wet grass and leaves that feel cold and alive against her skin. She pulls in a deep breath, savoring the air thick with rain’s echo, while her fingers tenderly stroke her son’s long, brown hair. Nicholas’s head rests on her lap, his small face upturned to the canopy of branches above, though he’s not looking at anything in particular—he’s deep in thought, his young mind a quiet mystery to her.

His small hands clutch a dandelion he plucked during one of his rambles, its yellow petals bright even in the soft light of the fading day. Agatha’s lips tighten as she watches him. Unless they’re hunting witches together, unless she can track his every step, she hates when he’s out of sight.

“Nicky,” she says softly, her voice almost swallowed by the stillness of the forest. She’s caught, as always, by the sight of him—those wide brown eyes, full of something that feels so much older than five years, the faint lines of a smile lingering on his lips, the long hair that falls over his brow. His fingers worry at the dandelion as he turns toward her, drawn by her voice.

“Yes, Mama?” he answers, his tone so innocent it tugs at her heart. Yesterday had been his birthday. Five years. Another year gifted to her, another reprieve from the silent, eternal fears that steal her sleep. She wakes some nights in a sweat, clutching at empty air, her throat hoarse from cries she can never remember. Each year she pleads silently for just one more, and each year, mercifully, he remains her own. Nicholas smiles up at her, his eyes soft, and Agatha finds herself smiling back, her fears dissolving under his gaze.

She tucks a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, her thumb brushing his cheek. “You seem especially bored today,” she murmurs.

He shrugs, shifting slightly in her lap. “I want to go to the flower patch, Mama.” His face lights up with a grin, the bright, innocent gleam in his eyes so fierce it makes her chest ache. “The colors will be even brighter after the rain. Can I, please? I promise I’ll stay there. And I won’t even complain if you must kill more witches soon,” he adds, his voice hopeful, even cheeky, as he tries to make his promise sound grand enough to earn her permission. His brown eyes gleam, wide and pleading.

Agatha sighs, torn as always between her fierce protectiveness and her inability to deny him anything when he looks at her like that. “Okay, Nicky. But I’m coming with you.”

The delight on his face is instant, a flash of pure, unfiltered joy that squeezes her heart. “Thank you, Mama!” He throws his arms around her, squeezing her in a hug that leaves her breathless, and plants a quick, sticky kiss on her cheek before scrambling up to his feet, his small figure already bouncing with excitement.

“Stay close,” she warns as she stands, brushing the damp soil from her skirts.

“Slow down, Nicky,” she calls as he begins to dart toward the trail leading to the flower patch. But he’s already laughing, sprinting ahead of her, the sound of his carefree laughter mingling with the rustle of wet leaves as he races to the field they passed only yesterday.

Nicholas stumbles into the field, and it’s as if he’s stepped into a living painting. The flowers sway gently in the lingering cool of the afternoon, each petal a wash of color made all the richer by the earlier rain. Roses unfurl in proud reds and pinks, tulips stand tall in bursts of yellow and purple, and delicate hyacinths scatter their pastel hues. His small fingers reach out, brushing over the softness of a lily. There’s a moment, like the whole world has hushed just for him, where Nicholas feels entirely entranced. He thinks of his mother, of her stern but loving face, and a warm resolve settles in him: he’ll make her a gift.

He kneels before the lilies, carefully plucking the stems with tiny, meticulous fingers, trying not to bruise the petals.

“Nicky?”

The voice, soft but unfamiliar, slices through the stillness, and Nicholas startles, dropping the lilies as he whips around. Standing before him is a woman, a stranger, yet not entirely unfamiliar. She’s tan like him, with skin that seems to soak up the golden hues of the sun, and her large brown eyes mirror his own—warm, curious, carrying an expression of knowing that unsettles him in some way he can’t place. Her dark hair tumbles freely over her shoulders, and a green cloak shrouds her, though her hood is pulled down, leaving her face visible. She smiles warmly, and for a moment, Nicholas finds himself smiling back, charmed by the dimples that appear on her cheeks.

It’s strange, though. Her smile feels so familiar, as though he’s seen it in a dream, or perhaps in a face he only vaguely remembers.

“Who are you?” he asks, tilting his head with the same curiosity mirrored in her gaze.

She doesn’t answer right away, instead watching him with a look that’s almost…wistful. Like she’s savoring the moment in silence, drinking in his presence as though she’s waited a long time to stand before him.

“Someone,” she says finally, her voice low and soft, almost a murmur. “Someone I wish you already knew.”

He frowns, little brows pulling together in confusion. “How do you know my name?” he asks, his fingers tightening around the stems of the flowers he’s gathered.

She kneels down beside him, and he notices the scent she carries—a mix of herbs and damp earth that reminds him of late nights in his mother’s arms, the gentle murmur of lullabies. “How could I not?” she replies, a strange smile playing at her lips. “You’re very special.”

Nicholas bites his lip, wary but fascinated. “Are you…are you a friend of my mama’s?”

For a brief moment, her smile falters, and her gaze drops to the lush green ground as though she’s searching for something buried in the earth. “You could say that,” she murmurs, her voice nearly a whisper. “I used to be very, very close to her. Once upon a time.”

Nicholas tilts his head, studying her face, but her expression remains unfathomable. “You’re not anymore?” he asks, his voice soft, carrying an innocence that seems to tug at something deep within her.

She lifts her eyes to meet his, and in that gaze, there’s a quiet intensity, an ache softened by love. “No,” she says simply. “But I still care for her. I still love her.”

He considers her words, his young mind wrapping around them slowly. “Mama doesn’t have many friends,” he says after a moment, his voice filled with the surety of a child who knows his mother’s world far better than he understands his own. “So…I’m glad she had you.”

Her laugh is soft, almost a sigh. She reaches out, briefly brushing her fingers against his, and her touch is light as a petal. “Thank you, Nicky,” she whispers, her voice thick with a warmth and sadness he doesn’t fully understand.

Agatha reaches the edge of the flower patch, her fingers stained with the juice of wild berries she’d found along the way, but when her eyes land on the scene before her, the berries slip from her fingers, forgotten. There, kneeling among the sea of vibrant blossoms, is Nicholas, his arms overflowing with flowers, grinning up at… her. She can’t see the woman’s face, but the shape of her is unmistakable. There’s an aura around her—dark and vast, like a void just waiting to swallow light. Agatha’s blood runs cold, and she’s frozen in place, a wave of pure dread making her limbs feel weak, her breath sharp and shallow.

“Rio,” Agatha whispers, her voice fractured. It’s like speaking a name that’s only ever lived in her nightmares, one she’s tried to bury a hundred times.

Both Rio and Nicholas turn at the sound of her voice. Nicholas beams up at her with a bright, innocent smile, his arms wrapped around the flowers he’s picked. Rio, on the other hand, looks up slowly, her face calm, yet her gaze heavy and unreadable.

“Mama! You didn’t tell me your old friend would be here,” Nicholas says with the simple enthusiasm of a child, oblivious to the heavy silence that hangs between the two women. He holds up the flowers proudly, his cheeks flushed.

Agatha cant speak. Their resemblance. Nicky is the spitting image of Rio. She hadn't seen it before, but now that they kneel side by side… It makes her want to scream and smile. Of course, she had seen similarities, personality wise, and power wise. Nicky is witty and kind, he has a passion for nature and wildlife that just cannot originate from her alone, and a few weeks ago, he resurrected a dying baby bird. All on his own. At four years old.

That day hadn't left her mind as of late. Who knows what he will be able to do by that time… Oh.

Death is inevitable, not even love can stop it.

Her chest tightens, and she feels the wet warmth of tears sliding down her cheeks. She knows, with sickening certainty, why Rio has come.

“No,” she chokes, her voice trembling as she drops to her knees. “No, no, no, please, Rio—” The words come out broken, desperate, each syllable frayed and raw. “Please… not my baby.”

Rio rises, her eyes holding Agatha’s with a sadness that’s both deep and unfathomable. Nicholas watches her from where he’s seated, his own expression shadowed by confusion. He watches his mother cry, his gaze darting between her and Rio, trying to make sense of it all.

“Our baby,” Rio says, her voice firm but soft, her gaze unwavering as she steps closer to Agatha. “He’s mine too, Agatha. Whether you choose to see it that way or not.”

Agatha can only shake her head, her heart a frantic, pounding ache against her ribcage. “Please,” she whispers, her voice hollow, breaking in her throat. “Please, Rio, give me more time… I-I’ll do anything. Just please, don’t take him.” Her head bows, forehead falling against Rio’s shoulder, her hand clutching at the fabric of her cloak as though holding on could somehow keep her whole.

Rio sighs, and after a moment’s hesitation, her hand comes to rest on Agatha’s head, her fingers sliding gently through her hair. Agatha’s breath shudders, her eyes closed, surrendering to the familiar touch that holds so much power over her.

“I want you to want me,” Rio murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. Agatha feels the wetness of a tear slipping onto her forehead as Rio’s head bows over her, though the sky is clear above them, and no rain falls from it. “But I know I can’t ask that of you. And I’m not here to take him from you.”

Agatha’s breath stutters, sharp and quick, as she lifts her head from Rio’s shoulder. Her brow knits in confusion, still thick with disbelief, and her voice trembles when she speaks. “You’re…not?” Her eyes search Rio’s face, every flicker of movement, every small line of sorrow etched into her expression. But Rio only shakes her head, a slow, quiet gesture that’s as gentle as it is heartbreaking.

“Then…why are you here?” Agatha’s voice is barely more than a whisper, each word laced with fear and hope mingling together so tightly she feels as though she might unravel.

A tear slips down Rio’s cheek, tracing a path over the skin that’s flushed with emotion she’s tried so hard to hold back. Her dark eyes, so like Nicholas’s, are wide and vulnerable, filled with the kind of pain only love can bring. “Because he’s my child too,” she says, her voice barely holding steady, thin and brittle. “I wanted to see if he looked like me, if he liked the same things as I do…if he was happy.” Her voice cracks, and she takes a shaky breath, her fingers curling around her cloak as she fights to hold her composure. “I wanted to be someone to him, even if…even if that’s not a mother.” She pauses, and the weight of her words hangs between them like the heaviest burden. “I’m not here to take him, Agatha. I’m here to see him. His time isn’t up.”

Agatha stands frozen, her heart pounding so hard she’s certain Rio must hear it. Her mouth falls open, lips quivering as her mind races, torn between disbelief and relief. Tears spill down her cheeks, her body unable to contain the flood of emotions, and she lets out a tiny, broken laugh, shaking her head in amazement. “He…he resurrected a baby bird, you know,” she says weakly, her shoulders slumping as she shrugs, grasping for anything to steady herself. “Just a few weeks ago.”

Rio’s lips curve into a soft, tender smile, the kind of smile that only someone who knows a love so deep it defies logic can give. “I know.” She looks away, almost bashful, though her pride is evident in her eyes. “I didn’t think he’d get any necromancy from me,” she murmurs, a hint of wonder and admiration in her voice.

Agatha’s smile wavers, her lips pressing together in a tremulous line as she struggles to keep her emotions in check. Her gaze softens, her blue eyes glistening with tears, her heart pounding with an overwhelming sense of connection to the woman she’d once loved, the mother of her son. “I…I didn’t think it was possible,” she says, her voice thick, shaking.

A rustle from nearby breaks their moment, and Nicholas stands up, tilting his head with the same curiosity he shares with his mother. His small face is filled with hope and innocent confusion as he watches them, his brown eyes flicking between them, searching for answers. “Are you and my mama friends again?” he asks, his voice light with the straightforwardness only a child could bring to such a moment.

Agatha freezes, her voice caught in her throat, unable to answer as a rush of emotions threatens to swallow her whole. Her eyes glisten as she looks at Nicholas, his small form so much a mirror of the two of them that her heart clenches painfully. But Rio’s expression softens as she looks at him, and she presses her lips together, struggling with her own emotions before finally answering.

“I hope so,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek, though a small smile tugs at her lips.

#marvel #mcu #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha all along #spotify #nicholas scratch #agathario

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rubixgsworld · 3 months ago

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I have a mixed relationship with the Season 4 of TUA.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!!!!!!

Like first of all Five and Lila….WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!!!! You’re telling me that they got together while Lila had a whole family with Diego!!!! The whole relationship was just gross to begin and I like sure they were stuck together for 7 years but like even in isolation together, they could have just been friends just good normal friends. When people mentioned that he was gonna get an emotional connection with someone it could have been great with Lila if it was just as friends that would have been great. They always had the frenemies dynamic and I liked it so much. But NO. They ruined the whole thing with them getting together. And like what about Diego, this man was just trying to be a good father and husband and he had to suffer from his wife cheating on him with HIS BROTHER!!!

And second of all, I hated how they left some questions unanswered because where does Jennifer even come from??!? How was Ben the one who was so connect with her (and yeah I saw they had a connection through that glow of hand) but it still doesn’t give enough answers to how they are connected. What about Reginald being an alien, like was that ever addressed again??!? I will say I was a bit disappointed that Sloane never came out again, I was hoping she was gonna get back with Luther and they have their own happy ending. BUT NOPE NONE OF THAT HAPPENED. Also WHERE WAS THE DANCE SCENE!!! We have one every season and like this one had none. A huge red flag to show that the season was gonna suck. Plus another thing is that after everything they have gone through, they just die at the end. (I cried) But like sure I wanted them to finally have a break from all the sadness and death but I didn’t ask them to die. They all deserved a happy ending with no cheating and death.

Overall some scenes were okay and the episodes were good when they were all together as a family. But I don’t know if they were rushed or something but like I feel could have been so much better and more time paced. Like towards the end of the show it was getting way too rushed and I did skip a whole episode almost (episode 5 🤮) but I such high hopes for the last season but I was just disappointed.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #tua season 4 #tua s4 spoilers #tua s4 #tua

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friday-answers · 1 month ago

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HI first of all the last excerpt???? EXCUSE ME THIS WHOLE PLOT IS SO FUNNNN I absolutely love Solus already!!!! Can’t wait to know more about the agency and the sinkholes… Lots of love and thank you again for sharing this beautiful piece of your mind with us 🫶🫶

Secondly I’m here to discuss s3! Spoilers incoming:

What are your thoughts on Imogen and Sahar? I am actually really happy with the whole thing (even if my soft romantic heart is still kind of hoping they end up together haha, I am full of contradictions okay?)

And Tori and Micheal? I literally cried every time they appeared on screen I love them SO much, I was just a little disappointed Tori did´t get to say she’s asexual like she does in the comic… hoping it will be there if there’s a fourth season

And Isaac? My baby was going through it this season, that whole journey was so beautiful and refreshing imo

ALSO Darcy this season!!!! Aaahh I love them so much, as a lesbian who’s only recently started to question my own gender seeing them discover themself like that was so so lovely

I also really loved how Charlie’s relationship to his parents was showed, I thought it was done really well! And Nick starting to realise he needs to figure out who he is without his boyfriend 🥺

Anyway I’ve yapped enough haha, feel free to answer this with as short or long of an answer as you want, and just give general comments on what you thought of the season, I just enjoyed getting to scream about this hehehehe 🥰🤓

omg first of all thank you for the hype 🤭... i'm also very excited about it too... while i have a plan for the most part, i pretty much have no clue about how i'm going to get to each point either so... y'know makes it fun and mysterious for me too!

i love yapping about season 3 i'm HYPED

imogen and sahar, obviously not a surprise. lesbian imogen also i fear we knew from season 1 but having that comphet representation is HUGE!!! i'm really excited about that.

i keep joking that imogen and sahar are finally the situationship representation in heartstopper but it is just not a joke anymore. 'better off as friends' my ass SAHAR U WROTE A SONG ABOUT HER

i fell to my knees every time michael holden appeared on screen. his appearance at the nye party GAGGED. ON THE FLOOR. they were so insane for that it was GORGEOUS.

i was genuinely so confused when tori didn't correct charlie on calling them a straight couple. i think i shouted at the screen for them to stay on the wheel because they weren't done LMAO... BUT BUT it totally means a more fleshed out sprolden sexuality arc which i am HYPED about. their relationship is so important to me im so excited for that representation to be more blatant.

everything with isaac happened so fast i got WHIPLASH him coming out to everyone at the zoo i was sobbing that representation is so important to me and just so so nice to see..... argrhfhf. though i almost just blanked out the whole tao isaac thing omg WHAT HAPPENED TO JAMES THEN??? INSANE. that was insane. glad they got past that one quickly god

no because mullet darcy HELLO kizzy looked amazing... non-binary lesbian representation ALSO huge like. GOD THIS SEASON WAS HUGE

no because episode 4 was DEVASTATING. but it was one of my fave episode of television i've ever watched. nick at the halloween party like. oh my god i feel like i still haven't digested it all yet.... charlie's talk with his parents too since they cut away in the comic me and my friend were SCREAMING through tears to cut away like my GOD. but joe did it beautifully and u could tell he really cared :,]

i also yapped incredibly hard. i could really do this for hours, honestly... i'm just so so excited fr. the way the cast was like this season is HOT its STEAMY its SEXY even though. like i've been a comic reader since about 2019. guys i fucken know we gotta get through volume 4 first SIT DOWWWNNN

so funny honestly imagine going into s3 with just THAT info then being hit with the emotional devastation which was eps 1-5. 6-8 were lit though

ok shutting up now. thank u for letting me yap you are the realest mf ever

thank u for all the love once again!!!!!

#heartstopper spoilers #heartstopper s3 #heartstopper #osemanverse #alice oseman #radio silence #aled last #universe city #frances janvier #february friday #carys last #original fiction #ask me anything #friday answers asks #universe friday #heartstopper season 3

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phantom-of-the-501st · 7 months ago

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Thoughts on TBB 3x15

Here we go... one last time

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Honestly thought I was going to be late to the episode but I actually work up at 8:01 am today so I am just a couple mins behind everyone else.

Am I prepared? Absolutely not.

Well that's an ominous noise. Always a good way to start 😰

The Kiner soundtrack is popping off as usual

I just need Hemlock to die

Indispensable? I'm not sure about that, mate. A lot of people have realised the Empire don't need them and I'm fairly certain you are on the list of people who can be ditched

Hahahahahaha the way the droid just starts looming behind her is kinda hilarious

OMEGA'S THEME 😭

Wrecker, bud, be careful...

Look at Omega sneaking around. She's so grown up! 🥲

ZILLOBEAST TIME

"Because that's exactly what I'd do" He's such a proud mum

THE WAY THE TROOPERS COME FLYING OUT OF THE FOG

"Clone Force 99 died with Tech`' well there goes my heart. I think this also explains why we haven't really heard the Batch theme since season 2. That theme was for CF 99 and if that doesn't truly exist anymore...

"It's what I deserve" CROSSHAIR DON'T DO THIS TO ME

"Echo's handiwork or Omega's?" "Omega's." I'M DYING

Omega's theme in this soundtrack is just 🤌

Oh great. We have a whole group of Clone Xs to contend with.

I just need all of the Batch together so that we can get the theme. I know I said earlier that we probably never got it because of a lack of Tech but I still stand by the fact that we deserve to hear it one last time.

These CX soldiers almost feel like a parallel to the Batch. One slightly larger, more hand-to-hand combat oriented soldier, one who fights with blades, a sniper, ONE WHO IS VERY TECH SAVVY 👀

WRECKER AAAAAAHHHH THIS IS NOT GOOD

NOT THE HAND

WTF?!

HELP

THIS IS NOT GOOD 😰

Fuuuuuccckkk Echo's seen them down

"Causing chaos, Havoc 5?" HE'S STILL MAKING QUIPS IN THIS SITUATION I LOVE HIM

"Hey, kid. And... other kids." PLEASE 😭

"We'll meet you there" YOU BETTER DO

Echo and Omega teaming up is everything I ever needed ❤️‍🩹

Hemlock needs to die a slow, painful death

ECHO'S SPEECH FEELS LIKE THE SPEECH HE AND FIVES GAVE DURING THE ATTCK ON KAMINO I FEEL SICK

Rampart looking sus...

This feels like this isn't going as terribly as it could be and that scares me

Aw ☹️ bye, Nala Se. I never really loved you but it's sad to see you go

HAHAHAHAHA FUCK YOU, RAMPART

AAAAAAAHHHH ECHO GOT STABBED

You know what I said 2 seconds ago about it not being terrible? I think I spoke too soon...

YES WRECKER

I'm not liking the position Echo is stuck in rn. That stresses me out 😥

We're not exactly in top form but hey, an attempt is being made

ECHO BE CAREFUL

Soooo... I get the feeling CX-2 isn't Tech...

AW NO SCORCH

FUCK YES!!! Bye Hemlock 👋

THE LOOK ON CROSSHAIR'S FACE WHEN SHE HUGS HIM AAAAAHHHH

Tarkin is not going to be a happy bunny

Oop we got a Project Stardust mention

THE SHOW ENDING WITH THEM ON PABU??? LIKE AN ACTUAL SOMEWHAT HAPPY ENDING???

I'm crying

Actually sobbing

That shot of them all sat by the tree 😭😭😭

A FUCKING EPILOGUE KMN

I can't breath

SHE REMINDS ME OF PHEE AAAAHHH

GONKY!!! 🥹

OLD HUNTER?!

Omega is joining the Rebellion? 🥺

Crosshair, Hunter and Wrecker all got to live to an old age in relative peace I'm in so many tears rn

Okay but if Echo isn't with the others at this point then where is he??? PLEASE TELL ME HE'S STILL AROUND

TECH'S GOGGLES?!

I'm not okay on any level

Okay, so overall, I'm relatively satisfied with the ending. I also cried about as much as I would have done if they all died so my emotions are still all over the place. Do I think every question we had came to a satisfying conclusion? Not quite. But I think we tied up enough loose ends for me to be content.

And I'm happy they got a somewhat happy ending. Knowing that they get to live a life in relative peace makes me happy, and we know that Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair at least make it another few years. Omega joining the Rebellion also seems apt. As an Echo girly I unfortunately don't feel quite as secure with where we left off. I don't have the same level of closure that I do with the others because we know that around this point in time, he isn't with Rex. But he also isn't with the Batch either. I hope we get to see more of him in future projects because I don't quite feel satisfied with this being the end of his story. He's doing too much for it to stop there.

Also... we were wrong about Tech. The level of delusion we carried throughout this season, my god. 😭 But it means I'm confused by some of their choices. The way they focused on being savvy with technology, the way he moves being similar to Tech, FUCKING DOMICILE??? Like, they have to have known that we would all go that way with our theories so why??? If it wasn't him they why was he written the way he was? I refuse to believe everything we thought was purely out of delusion. Does this mean I have issues with the way Tech's story ended? Yes. But overall I think the show wrapped up fairly well.

I'll try and drop some more thoughts later down the line once I've pulled myself together a bit, but for now I can say that I am content. Completely satisfied? Not really, but definitely content.

#well that's it #the end of the bad batch #I'm going to try and throw some more coherent thoughts out over time #but for now I just need to think on things for a little but #but how are we all feeling?#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo

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barclaysangel · 9 months ago

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The Birth of Jun (transfem Juniper Wheeler AU)

I literally wrote this within about 5 hours, which is crazy. I lost sleep just to finish this to make sure it’ll be posted by morning. I’m still nervous to post it since this is my first time writing for this AU and I just hope y’all like it. If you guys do, then MAYBE I’ll write a second part where Jun gets the name Juniper. Maybe.

Anyway, this is setting in the Final Family/Chucky season 2 rewrite AU where Jun survives and lives with Andy in the middle of the woods, torturing and killing Chuckys together. Because canon does not exist to me, obviously. I’ve written drabbles/oneshots about this AU before and this is just another one but with transfem Juniper.

If you guys really do like this, pls leave comments, it insanely fuels my motivation! I thrive off it and I’ll also appreciate some feedback since this is my first time writing a trans character.

Thank you and enjoy :)

Tags: @the-carlos-cow-eyes @erasedmystic111 @streets-in-paradise

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Internalized transphobia, mentions of suicidal ideation, cursing

There was something wrong with Junior.

That much she had always known, ever since she could remember. She wanted to be a princess, not a prince. A mermaid, not a merman. She wanted to be something that she could never be.

But Junior hid it for so long, and she hid it well. She buried that part of herself so deep down that no one would ever suspect it growing up. She became the perfect “masculine, traditional son” that her father wanted. She destroyed every single part of herself and burnt it all to the ground just to please him.

And even though she killed her own father, she still would have done it all over again.

Gods, she was pathetic. Pathetic and stupid and dirty and broken.

Despite Junior’s efforts to hide her dirty little secret from the world, she still had moments where it would bubble and come up again. The dysphoria with her short hair, flat chest, and other features that just didn’t feel right. It would be bad enough at times where she wanted to curl into a ball and cry all the fucking time.

But she would have no choice but to pull herself together and keep up the act, just like she always did.

However, this moment wasn’t like the other moments with her father. It wasn’t him she had to worry about, but Andy.

Andy wasn’t like her father at all. He was patient, understanding, and kind. Her father would be ashamed if Junior ever cried in front of him and tell him to “Stop being a pussy and pull yourself together, you’re a man!”, but Andy would hold her in his arms and comfort her. He had been there through every mental breakdown, depressive episodes, nightmares, moments of self-destructive tendencies, all of it.

Andy stayed right by her side and never budged despite how much Junior tried to push him away. She pushed and pushed and pushed but he never stayed away through it all.

Junior wasn’t used to that. When she pushed people away and burned bridges to the ground, it stayed that way. Just look at her relationship with Jake. But Andy refused to be pushed away and has made it very clear to her that he wasn’t planning to go anywhere.

Yet that still didn’t reassure her for some reason. It still filled her with so much fear if Andy ever looked too hard and realized just how broken and defective she really was.

So once again, Junior hid it. She hid her secret under lock and key and made sure to keep her masculine act on display.

But then the dysphoric moment hit hard, harder than before, and she wanted to die.

Junior didn’t want to leave her cot. Her appetite was long gone. She just tried to bury herself deep into her blankets and hoped that one of the Chuckys she and Andy had been torturing could escape and stab her to death, finally finishing his job that he failed to do months ago.

Andy had been no stranger to her being depressed. They had been staying at that small cabin for almost 5 months, it was now the beginning of April. Sometimes he would give Junior some space if she truly needed it but most of the time, he would be there to offer her food and water and just an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. He hardly left her alone when she got like this.

She didn’t blame him. Andy was probably worried that she would take one of his guns and end it all.

Not like that idea wasn’t tempting.

But right now, Junior wanted to be alone. She wanted to forget that the weather was getting warmer, which would make her have to ditch the hoodies and reveal the parts of herself that she hated. She just couldn’t bear to go through this, she would much rather hide away for hours or even days. Just as long as she would feel just slightly normal again.

However, she never really was that lucky.

“Junior?” She heard after the three light knocks, shuddering deeply and tearing up from the sound of her own name, like something about it was just wrong. “Can I come in?”

Curse Andy for respecting her privacy and boundaries. Logan would just barge in without a warning. Despite everything she was feeling, she still managed a small “Uh huh…” to placate him since she knew he would just be more worried if she refused.

Andy opened the door slowly and she could smell why. Even without moving from her position under the blankets, she could smell the food that Andy was bringing in. When he stood beside her cot, Junior lowered the blankets enough to see the plate of scrambled eggs and toast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Normally that would make her mouth water but this time, it made her stomach churn.

“I know you may not feel like eating right now, but I can’t let you go the whole day without something in your system. Can you try to eat something please?” Andy spoke gently to her, placing the plate and the mug on the floor beside the cot.

Junior merely shook her head slightly. “I’ll eat later. ‘M not hungry.” She mumbled before putting the pillow from under her head now on top of her face.

Andy sighed quietly but instead of leaving, he sat down on the edge of the cot. “Kid, I can’t let you starve. I’m not asking you to finish off the plate, but just have a few bites with your coffee. Please?”

She didn’t say anything this time, her silence was enough of an answer.

“Junior, c’mon,” She shivered and squeezed her eyes shut when Andy said her name again, “I know you’re not in the mood but you’re gonna just make yourself feel worse. Remember what happened a few weeks ago?”

She wished she couldn’t. Going nearly the entire day without eating only to almost binge afterwards, resulting in her throwing her guts up. But Andy was with her the whole time, rubbing her back and keeping an arm around her so she would stay supported rather than to fall face first into her own vomit from exhaustion along with cleaning her up afterwards once she was finished hurling and crying.

No matter what, Andy stayed with her through everything.

Imagine if he found out you thought you were a girl, Junior thought bitterly to herself, He’d despise you and leave you then without a doubt.

She stiffened briefly when she felt a hand on her ankle from over the blankets before recognizing Andy’s touch, relaxing just slightly. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Junior quickly shook her head from under the pillow. She couldn’t, she absolutely couldn’t. For the first time, she didn’t want to ruin something good. She already felt like she was one wrong move from spilling it all.

She just needed to keep her mouth shut and hold it all in. She could do it, she’s been doing it her entire life. She can keep going.

Andy gave her a gentle and reassuring squeeze to her ankle. “Okay. I just want you to know that I’m here if you do want to talk. I don’t need to talk, I can just listen to as much as you need me to. Alright, Junior?”

Junior winced and wasn’t able to swallow down the whimper this time, which immediately got Andy’s attention.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s wrong?” She couldn’t see his face but she knew that he would be wearing that concerned frown, the one where he genuinely acted worried for her.

Junior shook her head again, keeping her eyes closed because she knew she would break down and cry. Andy needed to leave now before she would completely lose her mind.

The hand on her ankle moved to her back, rubbing small circles there to comfort her. “Junior?”

“Stop…”

Andy paused from his motions. “What?”

“Stop…calling me that!” Junior didn’t know why but it was like something shattered inside of her, like the dam in her finally broke.

She ripped the pillow off of her head and bolted upright, the suddenness making Andy back up slightly. “I have tried so fucking hard to be Junior! To be the perfect son Junior. The cross-country star Junior. The strong and masculine Junior. I have ripped myself to shreds and molded myself to be what everyone else wanted me to be! But for what? It’s not fucking worth it because I’m not! I’m not Junior! I’m not a boy! I’ve tried so fucking hard but I’m not, I just keep trying and trying but nothing fucking works anymore! I’m so sorry but that isn’t me, this fucking isn’t me! I’m too broken and fucked up to be Junior and to be a fucking boy!”

Junior didn’t realize she was screaming until she finally stopped, her voice hoarse. And no one said a word. Andy stared at her with wide eyes and an unreadable expression as reality slowly settled in.

Oh fuck…what did I just do?

She started shaking, her breathing picked up and she hid her face in her hands, sobbing. “I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean it, I was l-lying, I-I-I…” for some reason, now she couldn’t even get the words out after everything from how hard she was hyperventilating.

Congratulations, you fucking idiot. You really did it now. You ruined it. Now Andy will think you’re disgusting. He’ll hate you. He’ll throw you out and finally leave you alone, just like you deserve, you pathetic piece of sh–

Andy’s hands went around Junior’s body, pulling her closer to him carefully until her cheek was pressed to the crook of his neck, one hand now rubbing her back up and down soothingly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, breathe. Take some deep breaths, kiddo. Just follow my breathing, okay? Breathe…”

She was shaking through her sobs, her hands clinging onto Andy’s shirt tightly in her fists. His other hand went up to cradle the back of her head so softly as if she was something gentle and precious to him. Junior could hardly breathe but Andy kept guiding her, speaking to her kindly until she was able to finally pull in deep breaths with his help.

They barely spoke, with Junior crying and Andy whispering reassurances to her. When she started to calm down, she didn’t move, she felt too mortified. It felt like one wrong move, and Andy would finally turn her away.

“Kiddo?” He finally spoke, “Do you remember what I’ve always told you? About what I want for you?”

Junior sniffled, still crying but not nearly as badly while holding onto Andy’s shirt still for dear life. “For…for me t-to be a kid…”

“Yeah, that too. But what else?”

She thought about it longer this time, hesitating. “…that you-you want me to be h-happy…”

Andy moved away just slightly, making her whimper again but instead he adjusted himself to fully face Junior and hold her face in his hands. “Exactly. I care about you, kid. I’ve had since the moment you basically passed out on my doorstep. All I want is for you to be happy. And if being a boy doesn’t make you happy…then stop trying. Stop putting yourself through that pain, okay? Just…just be yourself.”

He was looking at her so seriously yet so gently, as if all that mattered in that moment was her. Unshed tears began building up again in her eyes and Andy continued speaking. “I mean it. I will never judge you for who you are. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere just because you aren’t a boy. I swear on the River Styx.”

That oath meant more to Junior than any other sort of promise. It was an oath from Percy Jackson, and really any kind of Greek mythology. They both knew how serious that oath was. And for that reason, it was what gave her the push that she needed to finally come out.

“Andy…I…I’m a girl…” her voice was tiny but it was still enough for Andy to hear, starting to cry again but he pulled her back into a hug.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you…” He reassured her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “I’m so fucking proud of you, kiddo. I promise I am. I know this wasn’t easy for you, I can’t even begin to imagine how long you’ve felt like this but never said anything. So thank you for telling me. I’m proud of you.”

Junior cried a little harder at that, still not entirely used to having someone tell her that they were proud of her. But this time, the tears were more of relief and she just completely leaned against him.

Never in her life did she ever think she’d actually come out and tell someone this secret. She just thought she had to fight the feeling down further and further until it disappeared or it just ended up killing her.

But no. She lost it and everything spilled out. But…it didn’t end up badly like she thought it would.

Andy accepted her. He accepted her without another thought. Strong and tough and badass Andy accepted her and told her that he was proud of her for coming out.

This felt almost like a dream, something too good to be true for Junior.

“So…I suppose you don’t want to be called by that name anymore, right?” Andy asked and she nodded in response, gripping onto his shirt again. “Okay. Is there…another name I can call you? It doesn’t need to be your permanent name, it could be like a…placeholder. Just something temporary until you can figure out a name that makes you feel like you.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking long and hard before settling on something simple. “Maybe just…Jun. For now. Jun. Without an E at the end.”

Andy nodded and lightly leaned his cheek to her head. “Jun without an E at the end, got it.”

Jun could practically hear the smile on Andy’s face and lazily hit his side with the back of her hand. “You’re a dork…”

“Yeah, yeah I am. But so are you, so…” Andy poked Jun’s side, making her giggle before she yawned, her dysphoric episode and breakdown now tuckering her out.

“You tired, kiddo?” He asked and she yawned again while nodding, not moving from her position.

“Can I just…stay here? For a bit? Please?” Jun asked quietly and almost immediately, his hand went up to her hair and stroked her hair softly, causing her to close her eyes.

“Sure you can. And I’ll stay right here with you too. But as soon as you wake up and get hydrated, you need to eat, okay?” Andy told her, accepting his fate to have Jun fall asleep on his shoulder.

She nodded, yawning once more as a sense of pure peace and bliss filled her. She knew she was safe now. Nothing would happen to her.

“Thank you Andy…” Jun murmured under her breath.

Just before she could drift off, she felt Andy kiss her forehead, one hand playing with her hair and the other being secured around her body. “Anytime. Goodnight, Jun.”

#Luna talks #admin #chucky #chucky 2021 #child’s play #junior wheeler #andy barclay #jun wheeler #juniper wheeler #transfem junior wheeler #transfem jun wheeler #transfem juniper wheeler #final family #Chucky season 2 rewrite fic #Chucky oneshot #Chucky AU #transfem

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probssomethingorother · 1 year ago

Text

🚨 NEW CHAPTER! 🚨

I said I was going to turn this out and I did! Whoop whoop. Unfortunately, I have done barely any review on it so good luck folks. Will go back and make fixes soon. Feel free to call out anything glaring/jarring. @eedsknees gave me the idea to include (SPOILER) some nightmare content, so they are lowkey responsible for jump starting the writing process on this one.

Back & Forth: a the last of us fic

post-episode 8 Silver Lake hurt/comfort

Ellie & Joel, both riding the struggle bus, canon compliant

Rating: Mature for dark themes, nothing more than the show

It was Joel who stumbled first. He had felt the strength seeping out of him with every step so viscerally it was like his body was a container with a slow leak. His gate would falter and his hand would slip further down her shoulder, power waning. He would cough in his throat and blink forcefully trying to reignite the spark of energy that had carried him to Ellie just hours ago, but it was all a losing battle. And eventually, he lost it. It was Ellie who moved first after that.

chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4 | chp 5 | chp 6 | chp 7 | chp 8 / chp 8 |

chp 9 !!! YAY !!

read on Ao3 with the link above or below the cut, and remember comment where you can! <3

Chapter 9: (warning not proof read, will do that in the AM)

A lifetime ago, he was warned that raising a teenager - a teen girl at that - was going to be one of the hardest things he was going to live through. Joel had just started into the moody teenage years with Sarah before he lost her, they had their small arguments here and there, but really hadn’t quite hit that point where she was talking back, slamming doors, walking away, or giving him the silent treatment. Still, he had done all the mental preparation for the day his teenage girl would suddenly start putting him to the test, but he never thought in a million years that the teenage girl doing it was not going to be his Sarah. No, it was Ellie.

Ellie, who had gone from pouting in silence on the couch to fitfully falling back asleep. From his spot a few feet away, Joel had first thought she was muttering under her breath, talking through something and trying to vent her frustrations, but then he noticed the way her body rose and sank rhythmically. Still turned away from him, he couldn’t see her face to confirm, but after countless nights of looking over her while he took watch, he knew her breathing patterns like a parent knowing their child’s distinct cries.

She was asleep, and deeply; unfortunately, it just wasn’t peacefully.

For a long few minutes, Joel waited in the wingback chair, knee bouncing as he debated how long to let the restlessness go on before intervening. Hunched over with his arms on his knees, he wrung out his hands as he watched each one of her breaths and acutely listened in for what was slipping from her mouth, even turning his head so his good ear pointed more in her direction.

Over the months together he had seen her have a few occasionally, but he had never woken her, and eventually, she did always settle. But now, this just felt different. She had been struggling in her waking hours, it seemed cruel to also let her suffer in her sleep.

“I’m not…don’t,” she softly muttered. The words were more distinct than much of the rest that had been coming from her, and the sense of desperation behind them was painfully evident.

Sighing, Joel stood up with a groan and silently moved closer to her. The blankets were still tightly wrapped around her, constricting her movements to small twitches of her body, clearly unable to manage anything more against the weighty fabric. Her hair splayed across the cushion and fell down her back, which just made Joel realize it now was fully out of its normal ponytail, elastic lost somewhere - maybe forever. In the soft light of the fire, her hair looked almost golden. However, it also meant its tangles and mats were highlighted, strands clumped and bunched in weird spots.

“No….stop…no,” Ellie cried out again, still a soft and breathy slew of words, her body twitching again before settling.

For a moment, it actually looked like she might be calming for good, heavy breaths petering out for a second; so Joel hesitated before making any further moves, hand lingering just above her shoulder. From above, he could now see more of her face. It was contorted with a tightness, brows pushed together and jaw clenched. It looked like she was trying to turn it more into the cushion, hide it away from something, but she could only push in so much into the fabric without smothering herself - even her unconscious body seemed to know that.

Wherever she was, or whatever she was seeing, in her head, couldn’t be anything good.

Suddenly, Ellie’s breathing hitched, a whimper escaping her lips, her eyes fluttering beneath her lids as she relived whatever terror she was experiencing. “Please…,” she whispered.

The sounds tore at Joel's heart.

Enough was enough.

Taking a deep breath, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to shake her awake, “Hey…hey, Ellie. Wake up,” he murmured, voice thick with concern.

But his soft murmurs only seemed to increase her unease. Her breathing grew more rapid, each exhale punctuated by a soft whimper of distress.

"Ellie.." Joel tried again, placing more pressure on her shoulder to tip her onto her back. Her body complied, and she was now supine, but that also only seemed to make things worse for her. The whimpers started to get caught in her throat, her face screwing up like she was about to cry.

"Kiddo, time to wake up," Joel said, a little more sternly as he brought a gentle hand to the top of her head in a small gesture of comfort. It was an old instinct, something he used to do for Sarah when she was too afraid to sleep- gently caressing the top of her head, brushing back her beautiful curls to lull her down. (He later learned she should be in a bonnet when she slept, hair tucked away, but oh well).

He brushed back some of Ellie’s hair too, trying not to get distracted by how utterly dirty it was, bits sticking together by something, making it feel almost crunchy.

“Ple….don’t….that’s…you’re hurting mmm….”

She sounded like she was talking to someone now, and just being in proximity to it made Joel riddled with guilt as if he was the one it was directed at. With another soft sigh, Joel’s hand trailed down her head, past her shoulder, and onto her arm, giving it a squeeze. The move was a bad choice.

Ellie's body immediately jerked away from him, eyes shooting open in terror, as her arm flung out in a wild, blind attempt to get the touch off her.

Her hand connected solidly with the most vulnerable part of Joel- her loose fist hitting his barely stitched-together stab wound, dead center.

Ellie’s hand was tiny, but even so, it fucking hurt so bad. Time seemed to freeze, the sheer intensity of the pain anchoring Joel in agonizing stillness before the sensation hit him in full, like a tidal wave. He saw stars, the bright flecks dancing in front of his eyes as every nerve in his body screamed in agony. It felt like a thousand needles were being driven into his side, radiating outwards in a hot, searing wave of pinpricks that washed through his body from head to toe.

He stumbled back with an unstable step, knocking into the edge of the coffee table before trying to catch himself, only for his legs to do the opposite and give out beneath him. He crumpled to the floor with a deep pained groan, voice ragged and raw, landing with a thump.

For a very long moment, the world seemed distant, muffled, as if he was underwater as he sat still on the floor, hands not even able to clutch at the spot, just ghosting above it. For that same very long moment, Ellie’s eyes stayed fixed wide, now with a different form of terror as she came to terms with what she had just done. Both rattled by the sudden change of events, everything became eerily still between them as the room turned scarily quiet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, played on repeat in Ellie’s head, until finally she was was scrambling to sit up, blankets tangling around her, restricting her movements. With a frustrated groan, she yanked and kicked them away, tossing them angrily aside as she popped off the couch, desperate to check on Joel.

She almost tripped and fell down too, feet getting caught up in the pile of discarded fabric on the floor. The stumble became a somewhat coordinated descent, and she dropped to her knees at his side.

”Oh God, Fuck, fuck, Joel?,” Ellie stammered, her voice laden with guilt. She knelt anxiously beside him, hands hovering, unsure of where to touch, or how to help. His eyes were squinted, brow furrowed, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. He looked as he did when she first put him on that dingy mattress in the basement, just constipated with pain. It made her want to vomit knowing she was now the one to cause it this time.

Still filled with lingering anxiety from her nightmares, Ellie’s body was cracking under all the emotion, tears pricking at her waterline. She fluttered her eyes quickly, trying to get it to stop, but the longer she stared down at Joel the more she felt the tears threaten to spill over.

“Joel? Dude..what- tell me what I can do,” she stumbled out desperately.

Joel could barely register her voice much less what she was saying. A ringing in his ears was now taking over making everything just seem a bit staticky. His eyes wandered around the ceiling for a second before screwing shut, trying to stave off an incoming wave of dizziness.

He couldn’t understand why it hurt so bad, why a hit less than a punch had literally knocked him on his ass.

God fuck if she was able to do this, how was he going to defend them against anything if something did happen?

He groaned then, but from the thought of his inability not the pain. The pain was on a level that far surpassed groans.

“Okay..okay just,” Ellie began, taking his shaky hovering hands and moving them away, “let me look. I’m sorry.. sorry.. sorry,” she finished, biting at her lip as she slowly tried to raise his shirt to see the damage she had caused.

But Joel wasn’t going to let her feel bad for this. Certainly wasn’t going to allow her to make it her responsibility to fix him again. Absolutely not.

Despite the waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him, Joel managed to open his eyes. Through the haze, he saw Ellie's panicked face, her deep brown eyes wide with fear.

She had barely gotten his shirt up, it sticking to him with dried blood. "S'okay," he rasped, bringing a hand up to push down the fabric and stop her before she could get much further. "Don’t," slipped out, although he had been going for “don’t worry.”

Ellie stopped moving, but didn’t release the grip on his shirt, worried now that anything she would do would just make it worse. “I- okay - just what - how? What do you need?”

Realizing his poor attempt at speaking before had only made her more anxious, Joel didn’t rush into replying this time. He took a long breath in and out, controlled through his mouth. It made his stomach produce a deep pain when his diaphragm filled and released the air, chest cavity rising and deflating. He pushed his head further back into the cold ground, trying to focus on a different sort of feeling than something beside his side.

“Just gimme…a second.” He pushed out, words complete and mostly steady this time.

Ellie bit her lip, regret evident in her eyes. Releasing his shirt, and with a deep exhale she sat back on her heels, giving Joel space but still close enough to assist him if he needed.

She couldn’t believe she had fucking hurt him. He was still fucking fragile and she really could have done some damage - she knew it. It wasn’t like she had given him world-class first aid in the first place.

“Did I get your stitches?” She asked with apprehension. They were probably so fucked.

“Ellie.” Her name reverberated through the sparsely furnished room, the sound trailing out shakily from a Joel. He might as well have just said, “shut up,” because somehow that’s what it sounded like to Ellie’s ears.

Silence started and dragged on then for several moments as they both waited for Joel’s pain began to recede, neither moving much at all. Every so often there was a small sniffle as Ellie tried to bite back tears.

Joel's voice, rough and filled with exhaustion, broke the monotony.

“Already feeling better,” he offered, after the third sniffle. Ellie had been trying to hide being on the brink of crying, but there wasn’t much space between them for things to be going unheard.

With a roll of her eyes and a huff, she wiped at them with the back of her hands.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying…I’m not a fricken crybaby,” she mumbled, clearly frustrated with herself. Joel hummed in agreement as he began to reposition himself, more focused on not causing himself any more pain than producing a reply to her.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Cause you don’t look okay…” Ellie pushed anxiously, trying to get the focus back on him.

“I’m fine. Just caught me off guard is all.”

They both knew that was a bit of an oversimplification and by the look on Ellie’s face, she wasn’t too happy with his attempt to brush this under the carpet.

"It wasn't your fault," Joel murmured, pushing himself to a sitting position with a wince. Every movement he made seemed to be a battle, a very annoying struggle against the pain that radiated from his side. "You were just reacting... to something else…. probably my fault anyhow.”

Joel's eyes inadvertently flicked down to Ellie's bare thighs, the blue-black hues of bruises evident even in the dim light, as she knelt next to him. He had noticed them earlier, but the immediate crisis then had pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Now, they came flooding back, mind zoning out as his gaze lingered on the red flags that marred her body.

She had been reacting to something else.

“I said don’t touch me motherfucker!”

Broken pants.

“Don’t do it, please don’t do it.”

Scratches on her waistline.

“you’re hurting-”

Begging, even in her sleep.

“Please don’t.”

"Quit staring," Ellie muttered with a hint of bitterness. Drawn from spiraling thoughts, Joel’s eye flicked back up to hers, filled with a genuine concern, and a bit of remorse.

"I wasn’t—“

“You were," she cut him off, her voice filled turning to something else, a mix of exhaustion and defiance as she pulled down her sweatshirt the best she could to cover her thighs. It barely did a thing.

”Let me see your side," she said, moving toward his shirt once more. He held out a hand, stopping her.

He wasn’t going to let her keep avoiding this.

“Tit for tat - you wanna check on me, I wanna check on you,” Joel rasped, his voice carrying an edge of firmness, making it clear that this was really non-negotiable even if presenting it as such.

Ellie’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine,” she said sternly.

“You ain’t,” he countered, eyes again flicking down to her legs, purposefully this time, brows raised before he came back to meet her eyes. They were as terse as he’d ever seen.

They darted away from his view as she muttered, "It's nothing,” her voice low, but Joel caught the slight tremor in it.

“It ain’t 'nothing'," he pressed firmly.

With an irritated exhale, Ellie rose as her eyes rolled. She stared down at him for a long moment before shooting her hand out for him to grab.

Joel looked at it, and then at her, and then back to it. He hadn’t really anticipated getting up this soon, but he wasn’t going to deny the hand she was extending, metaphorical or physical. He hoped that despite the anger her face showed, the gesture was as much about reconciliation as it was assistance.

Of course, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

With more force than he thought she capable, Ellie helped him move to stand, pulling him vertically and giving him a tight grip to sink into it. She didn’t say a word about the heavy groan that ripped through his body during it all or the way his strong grasp made the cut on the side of her hand burn. She turned away her head from his as he made his way up, not wanting to meet his gaze, and not wanting him to see the way she was making her own body ache with the effort of supporting him. Head drooping toward the floor, she stayed by his side for a moment as he panted through the residual pain, bent at the waist just slightly his free hand on his hip. When he seemed steady enough, Ellie slipped her hand from his, giving it a little shake to rid the irritation in her fingers from his clenched hold.

Marching back to the couch, she aggressively snatched the blankets off the ground and plopped herself onto the worn cushions with a glare and a huff, deliberately positioning the university quilts over her legs to hide it all away.

“Fuck you,” she spat stoically as her body hunched down, arms crossing over her chest.

It had flipped so easily inside her, the switch back to anger and frustration, that it was almost catching her own self off guard. Her stomach felt like it was hanging low, her muscles were all tense, her throat was aching to scream, and her body desperately just felt like picking up the closest thing and heaving it across the room.

She bit the impulse back, stifled down the brewing aggression and frustration - but just barely.

The last time she let herself get swept up in the same feelings a man’s head became sludge on the carpet. Ellie knew she wouldn’t do that to Joel - ever - but she also didn’t want to go anywhere near the emotions that she knew could fuel that sort of thing.

But, that was much harder said than done. And right now, her mind and heart were at odds, unsure of which was actually in control, but either way, one was telling her to make Joel hurt. To make him sad and angry. To make him feel the way she was suddenly starting to again.

“You took off my pants.”

The regret was immediate as she spat the words out with venom, but there was also a sweet satisfaction that came afterward, when the words hung heavy in the air, when the look on his face told her she had it - that soft spot inside of him, that protector persona - easily crushed.

“Ellie..”

She shouldn’t be doing this, not to him, none of this was his fault, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself stop.

“You wouldn’t’ve even known… I never said you could do that, ” she muttered, eyes narrowing.

The color drained from Joel’s face, and for a moment he looked as if he was about to topple over again. He sucked in a long breath, a deep feeling of culpability settling in his heart. It was almost more painful than Ellie’s hand connecting with his wound just moments before - actually, he might prefer round two of that now, then this, or whatever this was shaping up to be.

He knew what he did, knew it had been necessary, but it made him feel dirty all the same. She didn’t have to do much to bring out the guilt when he already felt ashamed.

Slowly, Joel turned and eased himself into the wingback, taking up refuge in the same spot he had watched her battle through the nightmare earlier - a nightmare he was suddenly worried was somehow about him.

Head low, forearms resting on his thighs, palms, and hands anxiously rubbing together, he ground his teeth back and forth, her screams echoing in his ears once again.

A blip of his large hands encircling her tiny bruised wrists as he moved them away, came to mind, coming back to haunt him like he knew it would when had done it. He hummed at the thought, wondering for a second if perhaps he had done something wrong.

Rushed through it, overstepped, and caused more harm than good.

But then thought of how she was fading in and out, how she shaking - so badly - how her skin was like ice - might as well have been a dead body, cold like a corpse.

Joel nodded his head up and down, convincing himself of what he already knew.

There were lots to feel guilty over, but this couldn’t be one of them.

Anxiously, he raised his head and met hers, trying to read her face and not her words. Ellie’s expression was one filled with contempt, but her eyes held a completely different story - a kid broken and scared.

She was hurting, and if the look in her eyes wasn’t enough, the bruises on her face and the blood splatter still staining her complexion were more than enough of a pointed reminder that Joel needed to tread lightly even if she was marching full steam ahead, raging at the world - at him.

She was doing this on purpose, pushing him, but he wouldn’t push her - couldn’t.

He thought back to before, when he came rushing back into the living room fearing she had slipped away in the few moments he had taken to get the blankets. He remembered the small smile on her face when he made his way into her sights, and how she cracked open his heart with her candid confession:

“I’m always gonna come back.”

“I like when you do.”

Centering himself on that memory, and not her screams, Joel ran a hand down the length of his face before brushing it back and forth against the scruff of his beard. He let out a long sigh, a little worried he was about to say the wrong thing.

"I had to..." he began, his voice coming out more as a gravelly murmur than anything else. He stopped, swallowed hard, and tried again. "You were freezin’..." he said remorsefully, but pointedly, a statement of fact and an apology, side by side.

Ellie nodded with a blank expression, purposefully trying to keep her face deadpan. She didn’t remember all that much, but she wasn’t stupid - logically, she knew that’s what happened.

That hadn’t been the point of bringing it up.

“You couldn’t do it yourself, so I had’ta.”

“I told you to stop,” she countered.

Truthfully, she still didn’t remember much of the whole ordeal, but bits were coming back slowly. There were some moments, vague, but there, she could use against him if she wanted - paint a certain image, true or not. All she could see was her arms and hands pushing against his, small fists banging against his forearms, yelling at him.

Her gaze found the fire for a moment, landing on the red and orange licks of flames, just past his shoulder.

Hands pushing against his, small fists banging against his forearms, red carpet, flames.

“…I was yelling and you kept going…” she said, almost absently, head somewhere else for a twinkle of a second.

She gulped down a growing lump in her throat as her eyes quickly flicked back to Joel, and with a few blinks cleared the images of him away.

Joel opened his mouth to reply but shut it quickly, giving her a nod instead. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either.

In the very back of Ellie’s head, a small voice was screaming at her to not be an idiot. To stop whatever this was, now, before she took it too far. That he wasn’t him. That this is leftover aggression stuck inside, threatening to ruin something good.

But she couldn’t.

Her jaw clenched tighter as her eyes went hard and steely. Her head was really starting to throb again, and the hot feeling that had been in her gut was now starting to travel up her body, making her throat tight as it also ushered in a bit of nausea.

She was seething so much that she was making herself sick from the intensity of it all. And for what?

She wiggled in her seat, hands going to grip the sides of the couch, knuckles going white, as she lowered her head to stare at the floor, wondering why he wasn’t getting mad like she thought he would.

“I know, you were..” Joel confirmed, hoping that not denying, or trying to belittle it would somehow make this better for her.

He was able to see her demeanor going colder and colder with every moment she sat on the couch, coming to slow a boil like a pot on a stove. Part of him did want to defend himself and go toe to toe with her - it was only natural - but a bigger part of him just wanted to gather her up in another hug and just never let go. Make her emotions quell, stop the roiling.

"I know what your doin'..." he said, shaking his head, "I know you don't mean what you're sayin’."

"I - ah ..," Ellie stuttered, not expecting to be called out. ”Asshole," she said, trying to recover, albeit not strongly, before tumbling along, words spilling from her mouth. “You’re an asshole, and you - if you gave a shit about me then, you wouldn’t have -“

“- Hey now…“ Joel interjected quickly, a grovel in his voice clearly revealing that his calm exterior was cracking away, her words now hitting him with a certain potency. Ellie’s voice trailed off at the sound of his, focus going to watching the change in his body language, his shoulders tensing, eyes moving away, hand rubbing at his thigh.

Of course, he gave a shit about her. After everything?

She really wasn’t making this easy, and now the underlying guilt that still coursed in his veins - that was practically a part of him now - even though he knew it was misplaced - was turning to frustration, and frustration into precarious anger.

And Ellie knew it too, and now she couldn’t hold back. She wanted to pry that spark of anger from behind his eyes and ignite it. Light it on fire like that fucking restaurant.

“Would you have done that to Sa-“

“Enough.” Joel spat, jaw tight, eyes hard.

Sarah.

It was a low blow, even for Ellie.

His heart was thumping in his chest, whooshing in his ears. He knew where the sentence was going the minute, it was coming out of her, and he couldn’t let it stand. He had sidestepped what she had been insulting the entire time - the dark impropriety of it all - because it was just so far from the truth that it wasn’t even worth playing into. But now, bring up something like that, almost accusing him, with his daughter…no. It crossed a line.

With a deep inhale, Joel pushed himself off the chair the pain of it all buried monetarily under his own indignation, only a small wince escaping. The old wood creaked under him, the sound echoing the tension in the room. With a slow-paced stride, his leather boots thudded against the floor, the rhythmic sound resonating through the still air, each deliberate step echoing ominously. His fists were balled tightly as he sad and his face stern.

Ellie watched as he got closer, content that she had finally pushed him over the edge.

She hated herself, but not just for this.

Coming to a still directly in front of her, he lowly began, “You don’t-,” he dragged in a long breath, “you don’t bring her anywhere in this….that ain’t right, and you know it.”

His intention wasn’t to be intimidating - just firm, but standing above her as he was, was a little bit menacing. Ellie gave him a slow nod, eyes looking forward, not up towards him. Her quickening pulse was echoing in her ears, mouth getting a little watery with apprehension.

Joel looked anywhere but down towards her, not wanting to show her any more anger than he already had let slip out. His fingers ran against his palms, still tightly screwed together, as his eyes wandered around the area behind the couch, scanning the kitchen, hoping to use it mundanity as a means to steady himself.

Exhaling through his nose, Joel took a long step back, and then another away, turning his back toward Ellie.

God, bringing his Sarah up like that, now. What was she thinkin’?

Drawing his head up to the ceiling, he called back to that feeling in his gut when he woke up alone in the basement. That feeling in his chest, when he thought he was about to find her body a the end of a trail of blood. That feeling in his heart, when she fell into his arm, scared as all hell.

He shook his head. Ellie was his too.

An oppressive silence stretched between them, the weight of unsaid words becoming almost palpable as Joel swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, debating what to say, how to carry on. It was clear she was just lashing out, generally, but he couldn't let it all slide. Not that easily.

"Trauma ain't a hall pass" - Tommy told him that once.

Sucking in a final long breath, hands going to his hips, Joel turned to face Ellie.

“I know I wasn’t there. But I got to eyes. And I know somethin’ happened to you. And if this is - was? - you tryin’ to make sense about that then, fine. Spit whatever you want at me, okay? Hit me, yell at me, I don’t care…I’ll take it.. I deserve that…cause that’s on me for leaving you alone.” His voice was eerily steady, low, and coarse like how Ellie knew it when he was barking orders at her, way back at the beginning of their journey together. The tenderness that he had exhibited since coming back together seemed to be gone, even though his words painted a different picture. For better of worse, this was the Joel she knew.

“But listen to me. I’m serious Ellie - Listen here.” Joel waited for Ellie to look up and meet his eyes. When she did so, he continued. “Sarah stays far out of it.”

Ellie didn’t make a move, a little stunned by the way he seemed to have his emotions under control, especially after she had expected so much more.

He was going to end it at that, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him he might as well dot all his ‘I’s and cross his ’T’s too.

“And to be clear, I didn’t do anythin’, would never, do anythin’ to you- like what you were getting at.. makes me sick just thinking about it,” his tone was serious, yet his words danced around the hard topic like he wasn’t confident using the real words for it. His mouth turned down as the thought of it stayed in his brain, festering for a moment before fading out.

The look in his eyes had Ellie swallowing back some guilt, tears even beginning to prick at her waterline again.

Joel's hand came to his neck, rubbing away the much-accumulated tension, while looking around the room to search for something else to focus on. His eyes landed on her again - how could they not - and he paused. Blood, bruises, brewing with anger. He could fix some of that.

His eyes went to the pot of water still resting on the coffee table after all this time and then over toward the hallway.

He cleared his throat. “Now, I’m gonna go see if there ain’t something around here to clean you up with.”

It’s said with genuine care, but it's not hard to read that perhaps it’s also a distraction - a misdirection- to take away from the fraught way the conversation had come to a close.

Joel scooted past the couch with a slight limp, heading toward the hallway and out the room, leaving Ellie sitting alone.

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tsukkiibaby · 1 year ago

Text

blackberries ♡ - kita x reader

a/n: ok so here’s what happened with this one. i was mid-writing a medieval guard!iwaizumi au and barely got two sentences in before i got bored bc it seemed too similar to something else i was writing so i went on a walk to clear my head, got 5 mins in and BOOM thought of this idea. started writing then realized it fully sounds like a bridgerton/queen charlotte episode (fully ripping some info/ideas from those shows bc i cannot be bothered to find out if my info is accurate for the time period and i just finished queen charlotte and cried for like 30 mins) so enjoy :)

feat: shinsuke kita ♡ (idk what to call this...suitor!au?)

genre: fluff, historical, bridgerton-esque, kita is an all around gentleman

you’re beginning to think that your options have dwindled.

with a faint smile directed at the stoic man that towered over you, you bid lord ushijima from the kingdom of shiratorizowa goodbye, allowing your staff to escort him out of the sitting room and towards his awaiting carriages. from her spot on the other end of the plush couch, your mother chuckles dryly and stands, rubbing your shoulder gently before walking towards the door.

“you’ll find someone, dear.”

those same words have echoed in your head countless times in the past few weeks. spoken after you met with lord sawamura from karasuno – a handsome man, no doubt, yet you couldn’t quite engage in a casual conversation with him without feeling like you were being scrutinized. repeated again after meeting lord oikawa from seijoh, who monopolized the entire conversation, barely allowing you a chance to speak. and how could you forget the encounter with the baron miya’s twin sons, who spent the entire time bickering, abruptly leaving after only ten minutes? the constant repetition of those words now leaves you with an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever your maid informs you of a potential suitor’s arrival.

you’ll find someone.

would you truly?

lord ushijima was pleasant enough, you suppose. however, your conversation with him unfolded much like the others, devoid of any genuine interest as the man gazed at you, discussing the strengths of himself and his kingdom as though he had rehearsed it numerous times, recited the same words to countless young women during the courtship process. void of passion and desire, much like the previous suitors had been. not only him, however, as none of them ever inquired about you, nor your family, nor if you had any interests. too eager to tell you what they thought every woman desired to hear, promising a life that you could only describe as lonely.

you despised it.

you were aware that this process could potentially leave you in a loveless marriage. witnessing your siblings and friends find that person that reciprocated their affection gradually eroded the little faith you had been clinging to - that someone could offer you a marriage full of love and passion.

you’ll find someone.

you ignore the repeated calls of your name outside your bedroom door the following morning by your mother after your maid was unable to get you out of your room, the two of them urging you to hurry up so that you can eat and get dressed to meet with another potential suitor. in reality, you’d rather gouge out your eyeballs.

“i do not wish to receive any visitors today,” you declare as you finally emerge from your room, shooting your mother a pointed glare as you pass her and head straight for the dining room. the two women follow you in silence, albeit a few paces behind, and though you cannot see them, you just know they’re exchanging a pointed glance at your reluctant demeanor.

“we only want the best for you.” you can almost hear the words coming out of your mother’s mouth. it makes you want to throw up.

but, to your surprise, they never come. your mother does not pester you as she silently joins you at the table, nor does she rush you to eat and start getting ready, even as you take slow, dramatic bites. she finishes her breakfast and stands from the table, offering you an encouraging grin, a stark contrast to the blank expression you wear on your face. slowly, she moves around to the other side of the table where you sit and stops behind you, gently sweeping your hair away from your face, allowing it to cascade down your shoulders. a tender kiss is planted on the crown of your head, and you inhale a silent breath.

“your person is coming, dear.”

you watch out of the corner of your eye as she retreats out of the room, listening to her heels click down the hall until the sound disappears, and you let out the breath you’re holding. the loud silence follows you as you finish your breakfast, eyes trained downwards, and the walk back to your room feels longer than normal. the idea of getting dressed, hair and makeup done up only for whatever suitor was to come to disregard everything you say and want in life had your stomach in knots, and not from your breakfast. you remove your sleeping gown and step into a more casual daytime dress, one that you always liked to wear when wandering the vast estate.

slipping out the back into your estate’s back garden, you pause under the feeling of the sun beating down the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders, your body instantly feeling light and refreshed. you smile to yourself and breathe in deeply, relishing the feeling of the fresh air and sunshine before exhaling. opening your eyes, you begin down the stone path, stepping further into the warmth of the sun. you suppose a nice walk in the warm weather would take your mind off of the almost impossible courting process.

or so you hoped.

you take your time as you stroll down the vast rows of bushes and flowers, bright pinks and lavenders and oranges lining the walkway of the back path. with very little clouds in the sky, you relish in the warmth, letting your mind wander as you walk aimlessly, eyes gazing around the arrays of lush flowers. rounding the corner of the far lawn where your berry bushes were planted, you’re surprised to see a small basket on the edge of the path, half-filled to the brim with blackberries. cocking your head to the side, you take a tentative step towards it, eyes glancing around you to look for the culprit.

“oh, i’m sorry,” a voice calls from behind you, and you feel your feet leave the ground temporarily as you jump in surprise, your hand flying to clutch your chest. you feel a hand ghosting over your lower back, fingertips swiping over the thin material of your long dress to steady you on the chance that you fall backwards. “are ya alright?”

collecting yourself, you straighten your posture and turn to face the source of the mystery voice. your eyes glance upwards, meeting a pair of shining brown eyes, reminiscent of honey under the radiance of the sun, and you have to clear your throat to avoid getting stuck staring at the handsome man with your mouth open like some sort of peculiar creep. he’s much taller than you, his large frame shielding the harsh rays from your line of vision. the top buttons of his jacket are undone, revealing glimpses of his skin beneath the semi-translucent white fabric of his shirt underneath. “yes, my lord,” you reply, taking a step back to dip down into a polite curtsy. “i apologize for disturbing you.”

“not at all, my lady,” he is quick to speak, extending his hand out towards you. you accept it gently, his touch soft and warm as his palm envelopes your own, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. “lord kita. i was here for lunch with the young lady l/n, but i’m told she is not receiving visitors today.” his voice drops to a whisper upon delivering the latter part of his sentence, his lips curving into a cheeky smile.

heat flushes your cheeks under his unwavering gaze, and the playful tilt of his lips at least assures you that he at least has a sense of humor. “i apologize, my lord,” you apologize sheepishly, dipping into another curtsy with your head bowed, cheeks burning as you avoid his watchful eyes, and you hope he attributes the blush to the sun’s warmth.

he chuckles lowly, reaching down to retrieve the basket of blackberries, capturing your attention with his slow, careful movements. “no need for apologies, my lady,” he murmurs. “everyone has their bad days,” he says, eyeing the supple berries that fill the basket. “i have a garden similar to this at my estate back home. when i feel weary or overwhelmed, i tend to wander the lawns. even at night, if i have trouble sleeping, i find solace in coming out to the garden, sitting on one of the benches to observe the stars or just strolling under the moonlight.”

you slowly raise your head, shyly allowing your eyes to meet his. “you do?” you’re not sure any of the other men you’ve met would even admit to having bad days.

he nods, a smile gracing his plush lips. “it makes me feel more at peace with myself,” he says simply, turning to face the row of lush berry bushes adorning the path you both occupy, his long fingers reach out towards the blooming fruit. “when i find myself tired or burdened, tending to the plants and flowers help soothe my soul. it provides me comfort, even in the darkness of the night.”

a fleeting glance over at the striking man leaves you mesmerized. his subtle repositioning under the sun grants you a captivating view of his radiance, and you have to will yourself to look away before becoming entranced by the enchanting lord. he plucks one of the berries from the bush and twirls it in his fingers, then turns back to meet your inquisitive gaze, his eyes radiating admiration. “the dowager baroness l/n mentioned your extensive garden on the tour of the estate this morning, and offered a basket of berries as a token of her gratitude for me coming all this way,” he murmurs. “if it pleases you, my lady, i had intended to reciprocate the gesture by presenting them to you in the form of a pastry?” the latter half of his statement comes out almost like a question with the way his voice drops, as if the suggestion would offend you.

his eyes burn into yours, leaving you immobilized, unable to move. your mouth is dropped open, the words unable to form in your brain, rendering you speechless. you nod eagerly. “yes, of course. please, accept my deepest apologies for troubling you, lord kita.”

“shinsuke is fine,” he corrects you quickly, a permanent smile etched across his face. it’s bright and feels familiar, one that threatens to unravel your composure if he continues to look at you with such fervor.

the smile you offer him in return is wobbly, and you can’t help but shake your head. “my lord, i-”

raising a hand to stop you, he reaches out to grasp your much smaller one. “it’s quite alright,” he assures you, gently wrapping his fingers around your palm. the touch sends sparks through your skin, your whole body reveling in the warmth. “i am only interested in getting to know you better, my lady. how are we to achieve that if you do not know my given name?”

you meet his gaze for only a moment before turning to laugh quietly, a trace of hesitation in the sound that leaves your throat. “i suppose you are correct,” you concede, turning fully to admire the vast gardens. the ones that you help tend to. the ones that find solace in. you direct your attention back to lord kita, a hopeful smile plastered across your face. “perhaps we can start now?”

now it’s his turn to laugh, hearty and full of joy, tenderly pulling you by the hand he’s grasping away from the estate. “perhaps we can.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kita x reader #shinsuke kita x reader #shinsuke kita #kita fluff #kita shinsuke #kita x you

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