#This was SO MUCH FUN to write

[th3secr3th1story]

how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight

gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.

he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.

and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.

you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.

so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.

and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.

sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.

"last night was crazy, huh?"

"..."

"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."

"..."

okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!

plan A--commence!

naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.

all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.

an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!

he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-

oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.

there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.

no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!

galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.

20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.

"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?

he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!

he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"hey."

"..." great.

"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."

for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.

"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."

"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."

you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.

"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?

"absolutely."

plan C: success!

who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!

[ironunderstands]

Double Indemnity, Spellbound and how a retroactive plot twist kicked the communities ass (which also has some VERY interesting implications for Aventio)

I had a very enlightening conversation on TikTok about the nature of these two romance/thrillers, and while unfortunately, I have no idea how to watch them, the plot synopses I’ve seen and analysis other people have made have caused me to come to this conclusion/interpretation of these references:

On the first viewing of the Double Indemnity questline, the reference to the DI movie is meant to be played straight, with Aventurine and Ratio being just as doomed to fail as they are in the movie, and their relationship as equally as toxic and fake.

On second viewing, it’s the complete opposite, and the track (and other movie reference) you receive at the end, Spellbound, proves it.

Let’s start with Double Indemnity.

Also disclaimer I’m gonna be over simplifying the plot/themes of these movies because a) both are singular references, DI is only referenced in the name of the quest itself and Spellbound is only referenced in a track you receive once you complete DI, and references this small probably aren’t meant to be anything more than a fun Easter egg for those who notice it b) this is hoyoverse they aren’t clever enough for that anyways c) the nature of references isn’t going to be having everything be the exact same anyways, so I’m just going to go with the overall interpretation of DI + Spellbound/their impact, picking the stuff which aligns with the actual plot of the DI quest, I don’t care what happens in one frame at 30:01.56 minutes in and neither do the writers

Anyways, how does the Double Indemnity reference on the first viewing seem?

On our first play through of the Double Indemnity quest, we are made to believe that Dr. Ratio and Aventurine do not trust each other, but they are begrudgingly working together for the sake of stealing Penacony for the IPC. Then, Aventurine makes it seem as if he wishes to use the singer Robin’s- also the sister of Sunday, the head of the Oak Family and the one they are negotiating with- death as a means to pressure Sunday into forking over some of the Family’s secrets, which Aventurine will then use against him in future negotiations.

With this setup, the Double Indemnity reference is a solemn warning- Aventurine and Ratio will fail.

You see, in the movie, Phyllis Dietrechson intends to kill her husband in order to earn the money from the Double Indemnity clause (which is a real legal thing btw!), roping in one Walter Neff when he falls for her. However, their relationship isn’t stable and in the end, Walter betrays Phyllis, ratting her out to the investigator Keyes, ultimately meaning they don’t earn the DI clause, also killing Phyllis in the process.

Hopefully you can already see where I’m going with this, but it’s time to draw some fun parallels.

Sunday is Keyes, Ratio is Walter, Aventurine is Phyliss and Robin is Phyliss’s husband.

Although Aventurine a) isn’t married to Robin and b) he didn’t actually kill her, he is the one who witnessed her “death” and in the first viewing of the Double Indemnity quest, we are made to believe he intends to profit off of it, although this time the payout isn’t money: it’s Penacony.

To do this, he enlists the help of Ratio- albeit not seducing him, but still convincing him to help nonetheless- and together they go to meet Sunday for negotiations.

However, Ratio “betrayed” Aventurine, ratting him out to Sunday behind his back and informing him of his plan, which mirrors how Walter confesses to Keyes. This results in Aventurine being sentenced to death, much like how Phyllis dies by Walter’s hand, Aventurine seems like he will die by Ratio’s, calling him a wretch before slinking off.

And there you go, their partnership is as doomed as the one in the movie, failing because their trust + love didn’t hold up till the end, a devious foreshadowing.

At least, that’s how it seems on the first playthrough.

Because Aventurine and Ratio’s plan SUCCEEDS.

And on the second viewing, knowing that the betrayal is fake, you realize they succeed because they do the one thing the people in DI (and I’ll get to Spellbound) DONT do- they actually TRUST each other.

Ratio and Aventurine’s plot is a success. And it’s because they deliberately made it seem like they were doing a Double Indemnity plot. Like they were going to make the same mistakes as the characters in the movie. Sunday falls for the false appearance hook, line and sinker, and that’s his downfall.

They win because they TRUST each other, you can even say because they actually LOVE each other, unlike the characters in the movie, where it’s more list than anything else. Walter and Phyllis don’t make it together to the end but Ratio and Aventurine DO, and they get to continue on with their lives because of it. The reference to Double Indemnity in this quest is genius because it works both before and after you learn the retroactive twist of Penacony. It makes you believe Aventurine + Ratio are doomed to fail, and it makes you realize they were always going to succeed, expertly dawning the false appearances Sunday expects from them, becoming literal actors playing out the roles of two people who will fall short due to their selfishness. Sunday believes he’s seen this film before which is why he BUYS IT, and god it’s just beautiful looking back on it. He thinks he’s Keyes about to uncover a dastardly plot to profit off his sisters death, and in turn he paints Ratio and Aventurine with the identities of those he believes would do such a thing, which they do their best to play into. Ugh it’s amazing.

And now, for Spellbound.

You receive this track after completing Double Indemnity, containing the description above.

Now, this is a reference to Spellbound, another one of Hitchcock’s films.

The main characters in this one are Dr. Anthony Edwards, a man suffering from amnesia, and Dr. Constance Peterson, a psychoanalyst who he was meant to replace, who discovers a dark secret about Edward’s while they fall for one another; he’s an imposter. He believes he killed the real Dr. Edward’s, but she thinks he’s just suffering from a guilt complex. Fake Edward’s goes missing, and the real Edward’s assistant arrived and informs them that he’s missing. She finds Fake Edward again, living under the pseudonym John Brown, and although he tries to leave, she convinces him to stay, telling him that with the help of her mentor, psychoanalysis can help recover his lost memories.

Through an incredibly complicated psychoanalysis of dream, Constance begins to uncover the truth- learning the person who believes himself to be Dr. Edward’s (and is using the pseudonym John Brown) is actually a man named John Ballantyne. Ballantyne accidentally caused the death of his younger brother in the past, resulting in his deep guilt, as well as recalling the location where the real Edwards died- skiing off a cliff to his death. With his memories, they find the body, but it has a bullet wound, so Ballantyne is taken into custody.

However, her boss, Dr. Murchison lets it slip that he actually used to know (and didn’t like) Dr. Edwards, and through another complicated sequence gets him to confess his guilt and ultimately kill himself, which frees Ballantyne, ending the movie with the two going on a honeymoon.

So, what does this mean in the context of the quest line?

Well, let’s say Ballantyne and Constance are representative of Ratio and Aventurine respectively.

“Every psychoanalyst must first have someone else diagnose them.”

If we read Aventurine as the psychoanalyst (Constance) and Ratio as the diagnoser/doctor (Ballantyne), it reveals an interesting interpretation.

That being that they knew the truth from the start/ they had already succeeded.

Or in other words, unlike in Double Indemnity, in Spellbound, they actually succeed.

In the film, Constance is the one doing the diagnosing, the one trying to figure out the truth, and you can see that in Aventurine pretending he’s trying to find out the truth behind Robin’s death. However, in the DI quest, it’s the opposite. Ratio’s as Ballantyne is the one doing the diagnosing for the psychoanalysist, Constance, or rather, Aventurine.

To diagnose someone, you must be very familiar with them, or at the very least the ailment plaguing them, and Ratio he knows Aventurine through and through at the start, and what plagues him (his own sense of meaninglessness) unlike the protagonists in Spellbound who despite falling for one another quickly, don’t begin being intimately familiar with one another.

In this way, they have already succeeded. Aventurine and Ratio already know one another, and while they might not know the reason behind Robin’s death, that was never what they were searching for in the beginning, meaning they effectively can skip through all the drama (aka the ups and downs of Spellbound, finding out the truth behind Robin’s/Edwards’ death), and reach their happy ending- a honeymoon; or in DI’s case, Aventurine attaining his cornerstone, and fulfilling his end of the plan.

Interestingly, Aventurine slots into the role of Ballantyne and Ratio as Constance equally well, with the phone call Constance makes to save Ballantyne being reminiscent of the note Ratio makes to save Aventurine, as well as Aventurine being the replacement, or in the sense, the one to find the truth about Robin.

Personally, I think Aventurine and Ratio are reminiscent of both the main leads in Spellbound, which is why it’s complicated to discern the meaning of the reference. Oh how I wish I knew what the original Chinese description for this was (if you do please tell me 🙏).

Is it just meant to signify them being in love? Is it meant to signify that they will succeed, due to how well they know each other? Is it both, which is what the inclusion of Double Indemnity (the movie) suggests?

Either way, it adds onto the already present idea that the trust between Aventurine and Ratio is what allowed them to succeed in Penacony, and that’s not just something expressed by these movie references.

Think Aventurines Eidolons: Stag Hunt Game and Prisoner’s Dilemma, both of which are game theories about trust. Or how Aventurine says that Ratio knows him best, or how Ratio entrusts Aventurine with close secrets of his, like him being the “Genius” of the council of Mundanites.

“Do you trust me?” “That depends on you.”

These are 2 lines in their 2.0 conversation that really stick out to me. Ratio will always offer his trust so long as Aventurine can prove himself worthy of it, and as we have seen, Aventurine always delivers, proving himself long before Penacony in the Final Victor lightcone, albeit in his weird homoerotic way.

Therefore Ratio will always trust him.

And because of that, they win.

Now whether you take the deep trust between them to be romantic or platonic, or infer the literal honeymoon at the end of Spellbound to mean something for Aventio, either way the feeling absolutely there, and it’s crucial for an understanding of their relationship.

Also damn, the retroactive plot twist fucking slaps.

[jossamology]

⸻ until dawn halloween headcanons!

in honor of halloween here's a halloween-themed headcanon set for each until dawn character.

samantha giddings.

sam chooses a diy nature-inspired costume like a woodland fairy, using biodegradable glitter and repurposed fabrics. think leaves, twigs, and soft, earthy greens.

she insists on going to a local pumpkin patch to pick out the perfect pumpkin and spends hours carving designs.

while the others plan for parties, she hosts a low-key gathering with candles, cozy blankets, and homemade pumpkin spice lattes.

loves classic horror but gets super into psychological thrillers. hereditary is her top pick, and she’s the one pointing out foreshadowing before everyone else catches it. josh washington.

josh goes all-out building a haunted maze in his backyard, complete with hidden speakers, fake cobwebs, and scare actors he hires just to freak his friends out.

dresses as something horrifying, like a blood-streaked serial killer. full commitment to fake blood and smudged makeup.

has a camera ready to capture each friend’s reaction when they’re scared out of their minds. keeps a scare montage video just for fun.

he's surprisingly good at carving pumpkins, but his designs are intricate horror scenes, almost like horror movie posters in pumpkin form.

ends halloween by watching obscure, disturbing horror movies that leave everyone else uncomfortable. mike munroe.

shows up dressed as a suave vampire or some other classic monster, aiming to look cool and a little dangerous.

takes his friends to a haunted corn maze and enjoys it way more than he lets on, constantly teasing the jump-scare actors and testing his bravery.

organizes a frat party bonfire in the woods with s’mores and ghost stories. he’s the one lighting sparklers and throwing on extra wood to make the flames bigger, he drinks to much and forgets he's the host of the party.

pulls classic halloween pranks, from fake spider webs to jumping out of dark corners. the type to keep a scary mask in his bag just to mess with people.

after a few drinks, he’s belting out rocky horror picture show songs around the bonfire with zero shame.

jessica riley.

jessica’s costume is elaborate, trendy, and slightly dark, like a glamorous vampire or a witch in haute couture. she’s all about looking spooky-chic, she went shopping early for the best costume.

stays in to watch mean girls with a couple of her girl friends referencing every qoute.

spends half of halloween snapping aesthetic photos of her outfit, snacks, and décor, making everything look flawless.

gets her halloween nails done a week before and flaunts them on her social media platforms.

matt taylor.

he’s the guy bringing pumpkin spice lattes and fall-flavored treats for everyone, unapologetically embracing the season.

suggests doing a couples costume with emily, probably as a famous horror duo. secretly excited about how they’ll look in photos together.

convinces emily(and maybe the whole group) to go on a haunted hayride, keeping a brave face while sneaking glances to see if she’s scared.

volunteers to help with halloween décor, placing spider webs and fake spiders around. he’s got a collection of led bats and ghost lights.

emily davis.

dresses as a chic witch, complete with a designer hat, intricate lace gloves, and knee-high boots. halloween is just another reason to look flawless.

sets up a dark, enchanted photo booth with crystal balls, black roses, and velvet. her instagram feed is a whole halloween masterpiece.

makes sure to get billions of stunning couples photos with matt, each one more perfect than the last. their matching costumes and chemistry are on point, making everyone else a bit envious (and they know it).

emily hosts a halloween themed sleep over with velvet pillows, and black satin sheets for an ultra-cozy but gothic sleepover vibe. the girls chat and laugh till they fall asleep, each secretly keeping one eye open.

chris hartley.

dresses as a ghostbuster or some iconic horror nerd costume, complete with all the gadgets. he’s fully committed to the nostalgia factor.

brings his gear and talks about doing a "ghost hunt." sets up his phone to record “paranormal” activity around the bonfire.

insists on watching horror classics with everyone, pausing every now and then to geek out about the movie effects or the backstory.

after everyone else goes to bed, chris and ashley stay up playing with the ouija board, half-joking but also half-believing they might make contact. they end up spooking themselves and get so scared swearing to never use it again.

ashley brown.

dresses as a character from classic gothic literature, like mina harker from dracula, complete with vintage lace and dark, dramatic makeup.

she knits little ghost ornaments and diys her own creepy decor, like mason jars filled with “witch’s brew” and spiderweb doilies.

loves telling ghost stories, candle in hand, with just the right amount of dramatic pauses and eerie expressions.

ashley, catching her breath and laughing nervously, gives chris a playful whack on the arm for scaring her so bad. “not cool, chris!” she says, but she’s grinning as he pulls off the mask, clearly proud of his successful prank.

insists on having a stash of halloween candy just for herself. she’s all about chocolate, especially reese’s and kit kats, and jokingly guards her stash from the others, even hiding a few extras in her bag.

hannah and beth washington.

hannah and beth take turns posing in different eerie setups around the cabin, snapping dramatic photos of each other in candlelight, near fog machines, and with props like antique lanterns. they especially love capturing a few shots that look like something out of an old haunted portrait.

both love the idea of exploring the mountain at night, so they plan a late-night “ghost hunt” under the full moon. they bring flashlights and spooky stories to tell along the way, daring each other to walk just a little bit farther into the woods.

beth and hannah sneak into the room with a giant rubber spider and place it right on josh’s chest. when he stirs and opens his eyes to find it staring back at him, he lets out a yell that has the girls stifling laughter from behind the door.

they have a slight obsession with candy corn and will spend halloween night indulging in it, trading their favorite types of candy and making candy corn-themed treats, like popcorn balls or cupcakes.

[butchyeons]

hey, just wanted to say i love your works!!

would you be able to write about bratty sub!nayeon getting punished by dom!jihyo for misbehaving (you can pick what she gets punished for :3)

hopefully that’s not too much trouble!!

not too much trouble at all! phew the moment i got this ask i jumped for joy. i had such a clear idea of the fic immediately it’s a bit wild. this was really fun to write, and i really hope you enjoy the direction i went with it. that being said, let’s get into it.

love’s cruelty

a bit of domestic dom/sub nahyo!! ft some communication fuck ups

tags/warnings: there’s a plot i swear, light angst, light dom/sub, mommy kink, nayeon gets called bunny, verbal humiliation, light bondage, spanking, using a belt as a pain method, fingering, punishments, begging, safe words, aftercare, fluff, lots of communication, nayeon is a brat and jihyo is so fucking mean LMAO

i really do want to give a warning that it does get a bit scary for nayeon at one point! a safe word does get used, and they stop it immediately. if that is a bit much for you, feel free to sit this one out. let’s get into it

cishet men and minors dni.

———

Nayeon knew what she was doing was stupid.

It had been weeks since her and Jihyo had gotten to do anything at all. Jihyo had been busy at work, staying late in order to make sure the final yearly sales report was done on time, which led to her almost always crashing as soon as she got home. They had no time together aside from when they finally got into bed. Hell, they didn’t even get to get ready together- Jihyo was always out earlier, the only remnants of her presence in their apartment being the breakfast she always left for Nayeon. She was good at her job- ambitious, always tackled things head on, provided solutions to problems before they even happened. She deserved a lot more than that stupid company would ever give her, really. But as much as Nayeon would always support her, she was needy. She missed her wife so badly. In more ways than one.

So when she found herself alone on a Saturday morning, sipping on the miso soup that Jihyo had made for her before leaving, she knew she needed to do something. Both of them should’ve been off, should’ve spent the day watching stupid dramas made for straight people while cuddled up together on the couch. They should’ve been kissing, should’ve been letting their hands wander, should’ve been…

Ugh.

Nayeon stood at the sink, frowning. As she cleaned her bowl, along with Jihyo’s dishes from earlier, she couldn’t help but think about what she wished they were doing. She could see Jihyo’s face perfectly in her mind; could picture that expression, her eyes hooded as she bit her bottom lip, the one she made when she knew Nayeon was done for. She missed Jihyo’s hands, missed the way her forearms flexed as her fingers were drilling into her, missed the way her palm would press against her clit right as she hit her peak-

Fuck.

Nayeon suddenly registered just how hot the water was on her hands, dropping her bowl into the sink with a yelp. She quickly turned off the faucet, staring at the two, small blue soup bowls. Jihyo had picked them out when they moved in, insisted they had to match everything with the sky blue toaster that Nayeon’s mother had gifted them as a housewarming present. Her heart ached just slightly at the sight.

Jihyo. Jihyo, Jihyo, Jihyo.

She shook her head, pushing the feeling away. The project was almost over, and soon enough she’d be back home, and things would be normal. It was fine, she told herself. It had to be.

When she moved to grab a towel to dry the bowls, she was suddenly very aware of the wetness between her thighs. Great. Another thing to add to her list of shit to deal with that day.

She was pent up. And she wanted Jihyo to do something about it. Good thing she knew exactly how to get what she wanted. If Jihyo wasn’t going to give her attention, wasn’t going to make time for her, she’d force it out of her. Even if it meant she had to break some rules to get it done.

So that’s how she found herself half naked in their bed, wearing nothing but one of Jihyo’s oversized sleep shirts. In one hand was her phone, the other one down between her bare thighs, two fingers pressed deeply inside her. She wasn’t supposed to be touching without permission- that was Jihyo’s number one rule, one that Nayeon hadn’t broken in years. The last time she did, Jihyo fucked her until she nearly passed out. It was some of the best sex they’d ever had. Nayeon needed it now more than ever.

It was so, so stupid.

And so, she stared at their messages, the pictures she’d taken already loaded into the text box. The last text Jihyo had sent her was that morning, the usual “I’ll see you later, have a good day, love you” message that Nayeon was now unhappily accustomed to. She knew exactly how Jihyo would react, exactly what would happen the moment she hit send. It made her heart race, her core practically pulse with excitement.

No turning back now.

She took a deep breath, and hit send. A few moments passed, Nayeon watching with bated breath as the “delivered” icon didn’t change. Her heart skipped a beat the moment it did.

JH 🧡

Im Nayeon. What are you doing?

Gotcha.

NY 🩵

Having some fun. I’m bored all by myself.

Nayeon watched as the text bubble popped up and disappeared a few times. She frowned, finally removing her fingers from herself, bringing them up to her lips to clean them before unceremoniously wiping them off on the bed beside her. Jihyo texted back the moment she was done.

JH 🧡

You know better.

There we go.

NY 🩵

Do I?

JH 🧡

You do.

JH 🧡

You know I’m at work. You could’ve waited until I got home.

Nayeon rolled her eyes. Fuck that.

NY 🩵

Well maybe if you weren’t spending all your time at work, you’d have time to be doing this to me yourself.

NY 🩵

I’ve already finished twice, no thanks to you. It’s a shame you’re not here to help.

Jihyo started typing and then stopped again. Nayeon had to hammer it home.

NY 🩵

Or should I get someone else to do it for you? Since you can’t seem to do it.

NY 🩵

Should I ask Jeongyeon? I’m sure her and Mina wouldn’t mind having me for the day.

It was mean, really. She knew that would hurt- it was one of Jihyo’s biggest insecurities; she thought she wasn’t good enough, would push herself to do better even if it got her hurt. But Nayeon needed her mad. She needed her to come home and ruin her, to fuck some sense into her. She had to make it as bad as she possibly could.

NY 🩵

Or maybe even Sana? Or Momo? What about Tzuyu and Chaeyoung? Hey, even Dahyun. I’m sure they’d all love to help me out in your place.

NY 🩵

They’d probably do a better job, anyways.

Jihyo read every single message, but there wasn’t a reply. Not even the bubble indicating her typing. A minute passed, and then another. Nayeon’s heart sank. Was that too far? Jihyo liked that kind of stuff sometimes. But she’s been so busy, her job was a pain in the ass- she’s probably sensitive, tired. Shit. Nayeon definitely fucked up. Shit, shit, shit.

Before she had time to go to type out an apology, to take everything back and beg for her forgiveness, the selfie of her and Jihyo that she had saved as her contact photo popped up on the screen. Jihyo was calling her. Nayeon just stared at it for a second, almost too scared to answer. A text notification appeared.

JH 🧡

If you don’t answer the phone right now, so help me christ you won’t walk right for a week.

Okay, great. This is exactly what she wanted. Jihyo was fine, hopefully. Just mad, which was a good thing. She could work with this.

She took a deep breath, finally pressing the accept button, putting Jihyo on speaker. She heard a door slam, the sound of Jihyo’s car cranking up, an exasperated sound on the other side of the line. Play it cool.

“Hi baby!” She said, a bit too cheerfully.

“Nayeon- save it. What’s gotten into you?” Jihyo spat out. “What makes you think any of that was acceptable?”

Easy.

“Aw, not even a hello? What’s the matter, baby? Work that bad?”

Jihyo scoffed, the sound crackling over her speakers.

“So first you go touching yourself without permission. Then you say all that bullshit- now you want to act dumb? Really, Nayeon.”

Nayeon hummed.

“Is it bullshit if it’s true? I can’t even remember the last time you’ve touched me, y’know?”

“I’ve been busy.” Jihyo hissed.

“That’s a shame.” Nayeon replied, nonchalantly. She rolled herself over onto her stomach, setting the phone on the pillow beside her. “And I’m feeling quite neglected. You wouldn’t have even known I did that if I hadn’t told you. Would you have even noticed?”

There was a brief pause, the sound of Jihyo’s car humming lowly in the background. She clearly had no argument, no way to fight back. She sighed, frustrated.

“When I get home, you’re getting taught a lesson you won’t forget, and I mean it.”

Her voice was deep, demanding. Nayeon hadn’t heard her this angry in years. It made her ache.

“Is that a promise or a threat, mommy?”

“A promise, bunny.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Little sluts like you need to be reminded how to act, isn’t that right?”

Nayeon smirked.

“Hm. Guess so.”

Perfect.

The call didn’t last much longer. Jihyo gave her instructions, laid out her expectations. Nayeon half agreed to most of them, continuing to tease, pushing the younger girl’s buttons despite knowing full well she’d do exactly what she was told. They played back and forth like that for a few minutes, right up until Jihyo had to go.

God, Nayeon didn’t want her to go.

“Jihyo. Jihyo.” She whined. “I miss you.”

The younger girl just sighed, clearly exhausted. A moment passed before she said anything.

“I know. I miss you, too.” Her voice was low yet soft, incredibly sweet. “You have no idea how bad I miss you, Nay. I promise, just another week, and then it’s back to normal.”

Jihyo always had a magical way of knowing exactly what Nayeon was thinking, feeling. They’d been together for so long, it was just natural. It made Nayeon feel slightly better.

“But I really have to get back to what I was doing. I’m sorry.”

Only slightly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here when you get home. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I expect you to be waiting.”

Nayeon figured she’d give Jihyo this one thing.

So, like the perfect little angel she usually was, she waited. Well, after getting herself off one more time, cleaning, and then showering. Jihyo texted her to let her know she’d be home around 4 in the afternoon, which gave Nayeon plenty of time to get all of their usual Saturday chores done. Around 3, she looked through her lingerie, settling on the one she knew was Jihyo’s favorite- the black lace set that she had gotten for one of their anniversaries before they got married. She only brought them out for special occasions, and now felt like a good time. Nayeon was ready, waiting in their bed just like she had been told the moment she heard the front door being opened.

She listened as Jihyo walked in, set down her keys, took off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the front door. She could hear the younger girl walking through the apartment, first to the kitchen, then to the living room. Her movements were slow, dragged out- she was doing it on purpose, and Nayeon knew that. There was more shuffling, the clear sound of her fidgeting with her belt buckle, right as she got to the bedroom door. She waited for a moment before finally pushing it open.

God, the sight of her in her work clothes never got old. In one hand was her belt, the other hand working on pulling her tie off. The top three buttons of her shirt were already undone, her shirt halfway untucked from her pants, her hair mussed from where she’d clearly been running her hands through it. She looked incredibly fucked out for someone who hadn’t had any sex for weeks, her eyes hooded as she walked into the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Hot.

“Hi, baby.” Nayeon said, cocking her head to the side with a smirk, eyeing the clearly exhausted girl now standing before her. “How was work?”

Jihyo didn’t say anything. She finally managed to pull her tie off, the action sending a jolt of need straight down to Nayeon’s core, before walking over to the side of the bed. She dropped the belt on the floor, her expression darkening the moment she locked eyes with the older girl.

“On your knees.”

Nayeon’s smirk grew.

“Bad day?”

Jihyo just blinked, unspeaking. A moment passed, the air in the room thickening. Nayeon didn’t even realize what was happening until Jihyo threw her tie down on the bed beside her, immediately reaching to grab her by the hair. Her grip was firm, the movement rough. It sent pain running down her spine. Nayeon couldn’t help but let out a small cry as she was pulled up onto her knees. Beside her, Jihyo shifted, one knee on the bed as she leaned over so her lips were right next to her ear.

“Is this okay, Nay?” She whispered. “If I go too far, you know the safe word.”

Jihyo was too sweet, really. But that’s not what Nayeon wanted.

“Mhm. Yep. Perfectly fine. I’ve got it.”

“Okay, okay.” She hurriedly whispered before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

Cheesy. Nayeon couldn’t help but sigh incredulously.

“I love you, too, Ji. Now please, keep going.”

Jihyo nodded, taking a breath. In a split second, she was back in it.

“Arms behind your back.”

Her voice was demanding, a bit too loud right next to her ear. But Nayeon didn’t fight back, then. It really was hard to resist Jihyo when she was like that, so she did as she was told, sitting up straight and pressing her forearms together behind her back. Jihyo made quick work of using her tie to bound her wrists together, making sure to press the safety end into Nayeon’s hand, a silent reminder that she could free herself if she needed to.

“How many times did you get off?” Jihyo asked as she pulled away. “Be honest with me, bunny. Or else I won’t make this any easier for you.”

Nayeon tilted her head to the side, looking up at Jihyo and smirking.

“Only three. But I easily could’ve made it four, or five.”

Jihyo sighed, walking away from the bed. She crossed over to their closet, rummaging around, paying Nayeon no mind as she shifted several boxes on the top shelf around.

“Sucks you weren’t here, mommy.” Nayeon added, watching as she finally pulled out the box they kept all their toys in. “I hope you enjoyed the pictures I sent you. It felt so good, even though you weren’t here to watch.”

Jihyo finally looked over her shoulder, her eyebrow raised.

“Is that so?”

Nayeon nodded.

“Mhm. And all I needed were my fingers.”

Jihyo looked back down, grabbing something that Nayeon couldn’t see. She walked back over to the bed, holding whatever it was behind her back.

“It’s a shame, really.” Nayeon said as she finally rejoined her. “Didn’t even have you, but I still felt good.”

She looked up, grinning. Jihyo kept a straight face, standing firmly. That wouldn’t do. Nayeon needed to keep going.

“I think I do it better on my own, anyways.”

Jihyo didn’t react. It wasn’t enough. But Nayeon knew exactly what to say next.

“I don’t even need you.”

At that, Jihyo’s breath hitched, and for half a second, her expression faltered, the hurt on her face clear. She struck a nerve with that one. The pit in Nayeon’s stomach came back.

Too far.

“Ji, I-”

“Shut up.”

Nayeon froze up. She’d heard Jihyo angry before, sure. But Nayeon had only ever heard that tone a handful of times in all the years she’d known her. Jihyo wasn’t just angry, she was pissed.

It was so, so hot.

Jihyo sighed, finally moving to show Nayeon what she was holding. In her hand was their wand vibrator. The moment Nayeon nodded, giving her the silent confirmation that this was okay, Jihyo turned it on to its lowest setting. She reached behind her, grabbing a pillow, moving it so that it was in front of Nayeon, the corners of it just barely meeting the insides of her thighs. She put the toy down so it was positioned facing her core, before grabbing Nayeon by the hair again.

“H-Hey, what are you-”

Jihyo cut her off by tugging her forward, dragging her just enough so that her core was pressed against the head of the toy. Immediately, Nayeon moaned out at the sensation, her body crumbling over on itself, earning a scoff from Jihyo.

“So easy.”

Nayeon let out another small whimper, pressing herself down further against the vibrator. The sensation was light, made even lighter by the fact that she was still in her panties. It was enough to give her some sensation while driving her downright insane. It was mean, really. And Jihyo fully knew that.

“Really, such a pathetic display, bunny.”

Nayeon looked up, watching as her wife crossed the room. The movement caused her to press down just slightly more, her breath hitching, a weak whimper catching somewhere in her throat. Jihyo just huffed, clearly amused.

“Since you want to get off so fucking badly-” She said, pulling over the chair from Nayeon’s makeup table, placing it directly in front of the bed. “You can get off.”

Jihyo stood in front of it, staring at Nayeon as she slowly began to unbutton the rest of her shirt.

“But I’m not touching you at all. All you’ll be getting is the wand, since you seem to think you can do it better without me. And don’t even think about asking me to turn it up.”

“W-Wait, Ji-”

“That’s not how you address me.”

Nayeon whimpered, her knees already sore from the position she was in, causing her to press down harder onto the toy.

“Mommy. This isn’t- this isn’t fair.”

“Fair?” Jihyo said, finally pulling her shirt off and tossing it aside. “You think you deserve to be treated fairly? After all you said and did?”

Nayeon mashed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut as her head fell. Both of them knew the answer, but Jihyo kept going.

“I don’t think so. You’re such a brat, so ungrateful. Such a little slut. Can’t just take what’s given to you, too stupid to follow the very few rules I’ve given you.”

This wasn’t normal for them, really. Nayeon got punishments, sure. She liked it, liked the name calling, liked the pain. But this was different. Jihyo sounded genuinely mad. Her words stung, but not in the good way, not in the way that left her breathless and itching for more. It felt like she got shoved into the deep end of a cold pool when she barely knew how to swim. They hurt, they scared her. This wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all.

But fuck, it felt so good to finally have Jihyo to herself. To know that she was the center of her attention, to know that she wanted her like this. To know Jihyo wanted her at all. It was easy to ignore the chill that ran up her spine when she knew Jihyo would be there to keep her warm.

“Since you’ve already cum three times, let’s double it. I expect six more.”

At least, usually Jihyo would be there.

Nayeon whined, her head whipping up. The sudden movement caused the vibrator to move away, the loss of sensation even worse than having it pressed directly against her. Her whole body twitched, her hips bucking as she desperately tried to get it back.

“M-Mommy, I can’t- it’s not- it’s not enough. I’ll- I’ll be here for hours trying!”

“Then so be it.” Jihyo deadpanned. She finally slipped her pants off, leaving herself in just her bra and underwear. “I’ve got all night. I wasn’t even planning on going in tomorrow, y’know? If you had just waited patiently like the good girl I know you are, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Fuck. Nayeon was fucked. There was no way out of this. Jihyo was stubborn, always had to be right, to be in control. Nayeon was the same way, really. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be here right now.

Jihyo was right- if she had just been fucking patient, been good, she’d probably have Jihyo’s hands on her, her mouth against hers while Jihyo was taking such good care of her. Not this. The absence of her partner, of the woman she loved the most above everything else, was going to drive her mad. It already had, clearly. She felt so, so stupid.

So it made it even worse to know that Jihyo was right fucking there. She just wasn’t giving Nayeon that grace. Nayeon lost her chance at that the moment she said she didn’t need her.

How wrong she was.

“I had other ideas before your little stunt earlier, bunny.” Jihyo said, finally sitting down in the chair. She propped one of her feet up on the seat, her knee pressing against her chest. “Wanted to come home and give you exactly what you’d been missing. I could tell you were pent up, and I felt so bad about it. And I missed you, too.”

Nayeon looked up, her teeth sinking down into her bottom lip as she tried to contain a pitiful whimper. She pressed her hips down, seeking out something, anything against her core. Despite everything, she could feel how soaked she was against the fabric of her panties, could feel how her clit pulsed with need, the knot in her abdomen pulled tight but not enough to break. It was torture. It felt so good. She had no idea how she felt about it.

“So you’re going to put on a show for me.” Jihyo said, locking eyes with her. “Beg all you want, but I’m not moving until you’ve finished.”

Nayeon whined, lurching forward, pressing down as hard as she could.

“P-Please, mommy I-” She could feel tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t do this- I- I need you.”

Jihyo tutted, her head cocked to the side. She made a show of moving her hand down between her thighs, brushing it against the front of her underwear before using her other hand to pull them to the side. Nayeon practically salivated at the sight of her- her clit was stiff and she was clearly wet, her folds practically glistening in the afternoon light that drifted in from the bedroom windows. She slowly drug her middle finger from her entrance up to her clit, circling it a few times, taunting her poor bunny.

“But that’s not what you said earlier, is it, baby?” She said with a smirk, her voice breathy from where she was teasing herself. “I thought you didn’t need me to get off? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

Nayeon let out another frustrated whine, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to fight, wanted to maintain the ego she gave herself earlier when she was texting her. But she just couldn’t. She really fucking couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry. I- I was wrong.” She said, her jaw clenching as she sat back up. The shift pushed the vibrator away just slightly, the lack of sensation causing her to nearly collapse again. “I was s-so wrong, Jihyo, please.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes. She pulled her hand away from her core, and, much to Nayeon’s surprise, stood up. She walked over beside the bed, holding the finger she was using to touch herself up to Nayeon’s mouth.

“Clean it.”

Nayeon barely let her finish the command before complying, taking the digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. It brought her some level of comfort to just taste her, to have her in some way. The earthiness and musk of her essence were so familiar, so warm, addicting. But before she could actually savor it, Jihyo was taking her hand back, the ease she felt going along with it.

She moved away again, bending down beside the bed to grab something. Nayeon didn’t look, too busy trying to press herself back down against the wand. Beside her, Jihyo moved again, her free hand finding the back of Nayeon’s head, gripping her hair tightly. She pulled her back up, finally showing her what she was holding.

Her belt.

“If you need my help so bad, I’ll help.” Jihyo said, her voice cold, annoyed. “But it’ll be with this.”

Nayeon would’ve normally been embarrassed by the sound she made, something between a whimper and a groan, entirely pathetic. Jihyo let her hair go, moving to turn the vibrator up by a few settings. She quickly pressed her hand against Nayeon’s shoulder, easing her onto her stomach, making sure the wand was pressed right against where she needed it the most, the pillow helping to keep her ass up in the air. Nayeon wiggled around a bit, tugging at the tie that was still holding her wrists together, but eventually gave up, surrendering herself fully to that fuzzy feeling that was growing in both her brain and her stomach. It was easier to ignore the alarms in her head when she did that.

“My, my, bunny.” Jihyo cooed, her hand roaming down Nayeon’s exposed side. “You look pretty like this. It’s a shame I can’t be nicer to you.”

I need the niceness, Nayeon thought. More than anything else, I need you to be nice to me.

She didn’t say anything back. She just let it happen. She needed to cum, anyways. Six wouldn’t be hard, right? She liked pain. She liked overstimulation. She liked Jihyo’s cruelty, liked her games. All of it was done with so much love, usually. Right now, though, it didn’t feel the same. But she deserved this. She was bad, she deserved to be punished.

Right?

When Jihyo’s hand finally gripped her ass, her mind went completely blank. She pressed Nayeon down harder against the toy, which was now doing a much better job at getting her off. It was great, it was just what she needed. Her body trembled, her hips instinctively bucking, the sensation almost all too much when-

“One.” Nayeon whimpered out, the knot in her stomach finally snapping as her first orgasm washed over her.

Jihyo didn’t let her up. She kept her hand firm against her, kept her pressed down against it. It was fine while it happened, but the moment she crossed the peak, it became all too much. She felt like an electrical current was running through her veins, burning through her body up to her skin. It was somewhat nice, but still.

“Ji- mommy, it’s- it’s too-”

Jihyo moved her hand away. Nayeon tried to chase the feeling of her against her, tried to move her hips back, to sit up on her knees without using her hands. She regretted it.

The harsh leather of the belt met the soft flesh of her ass in an instant, the pain sending her reeling back down onto the vibrator. She let out a cry, her fists clenching together, her knuckles white as she held onto herself for dear life.

“You take what’s given to you, bunny.”

Jihyo sounded entirely unlike herself. Suddenly the fear was outweighing the pleasure.

“Five more, Nay. You can handle that, surely. Can’t you?”

Could she?

Nayeon looked over her shoulder, finally locking eyes with Jihyo. The tears were making it hard to make her out, her vision blurry from the wetness, her mind cloudy from the pain. The vibrator was still whirring against her, which both eased and wound her right back up. It felt good.

But Jihyo wasn’t with her.

Jihyo wasn’t on her.

Jihyo wasn’t fixing her.

Jihyo. Jihyo, Jihyo, Jihyo. All she ever wanted was Jihyo. And right now, this certainly didn’t feel like the Jihyo she knew.

“Answer me.”

All it took was another slap of the belt against her for Nayeon to break. She cried out, her second orgasm crashing into her as she desperately gasped for air. Her whole body lurched forward, tears finally pouring down her face as she babbled out something that Jihyo didn’t quite catch.

“What was that? Too stupid to speak?” She taunted, running her hand along the red marks that now adorned Nayeon’s backside. “Is it too much already, bunny?”

Yes.

“Four more.”

No.

“God, you’re so pathetic.”

Stop.

Nayeon couldn’t do it anymore. Everything was too much, everything hurt in the worst way possible. This wasn’t what she wanted- she never wanted this. She wanted Jihyo. Her sweet, gentle, loving girl. The girl she married, the girl who guided her through the worst parts of her life and stayed by her side through it all. The girl who taught her it was okay to love who she loved, who taught her the true meaning of softness. The girl who worked her ass off to make sure she was cared for, to make sure their lives would never go without stability. She missed her terribly. She needed her now.

With a shaky breath, Nayeon looked over her shoulder again. Her face scrunched up in pain the moment she looked at Jihyo, but she managed to gather every single nerve in her body when she finally spoke.

“Doughnut.”

Within seconds, Jihyo was pulling her up. Nayeon released the safety end of the tie that was binding her wrists together, freeing herself from her restraints as Jihyo pulled the pillow and vibrator away. She sat back on her knees, everything finally hitting her as she just sobbed. Jihyo quickly cut the toy off, practically throwing it down to the end of the bed before joining her, climbing in beside her.

“Nay- Nayeon, hey.” Her voice was calm, even. Soothing, more than anything. “Look at me. What do you need? Can you speak?”

Nayeon looked up, finally locking eyes with Jihyo. She looked so guilty, scared. Nayeon was too gone to really say anything, tears still streaming down her cheeks. The only thing she could do was hold out her arms. And yet, Jihyo understood. She always understood.

She helped Nayeon lay back on the bed, crawling up beside her and pulling her in close, Nayeon’s face resting against her chest. She pressed a few kisses to the top of her head, holding her tightly as she whispered out apology after apology, reassurance after reassurance. After a few minutes, Nayeon had calmed herself down. She pushed herself up, pulling away so she could look at her wife.

“I’m sorry, Ji.” Nayeon said, sniffling. “I got- I got so scared. You sounded so mad. I couldn’t…”

Jihyo shook her head.

“Nay, baby, it’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m so sorry I got so angry, I just…” She sighed. “God, that’s not like me at all.”

Nayeon leaned forward and kissed her forehead before moving back to rest against her. Jihyo’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her pressed as close as she could be.

“I know it’s not you, Ji.” Nayeon sighed out. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. That wasn’t fair of me. You’ve been so busy, and I was a brat for doing what I did.”

Jihyo made a sound of protest, shaking her head. She didn’t say anything, though. She was letting Nayeon have her time.

“I didn’t mean any of what I said. It’s just-” Nayeon spoke the best she could, her voice cracking as the tears from before came back. “I missed you, I wanted your attention. I’m sorry I went about it like that- I didn’t know what else to do.”

Nayeon finally looked up at Jihyo. She was giving her that look. The one she gave her when she was worried, the one that Nayeon knew was pure adoration.

“Hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay.” Jihyo whispered, her hand immediately finding Nayeon’s cheek, thumbing away her tears. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give it to you. I missed you, too. More than you’d ever know. I love you so, so much.”

She paused, frowning.

“I poured all my energy into work and that wasn’t fair to you. You deserve it, too. More than that stupid company does, that’s for sure.” She took a second, inhaling and exhaling through her teeth. “What you don’t deserve is my anger. I’m so mad about work, so mad about how they’re treating me. Home is the one place where I have you. And I brought that anger home. And then you said that stuff… And then I just… Took it out on you…”

Her voice trailed off, her brows furrowed as she looked away.

“I went too far, Nay. I hurt you in a way that was scary for you, and I’m so sorry.”

Nayeon sat up fully then, wiping her own tears off with her arm before she took Jihyo’s face in her hands.

“Jihyo, you’ve been nothing but good to me the entire time I’ve known you.” She said, making Jihyo look at her. “What happened wasn’t normal for either of us, we clearly both went too far. We’re both mad about the situation we’re in, and took it out on each other. But it’s okay now. I forgive you completely, I still trust you, nothing will ever change that.”

Jihyo looked at her for a moment, really looked at her, before her eyes started to well with tears. She pouted as a few began to fall, her bottom lip poking out as she whined.

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, Nay.”

Nayeon rolled her eyes, laughing as she wiped the younger girl’s tears away before leaning down and kissing her softly, deeply. For the first time in weeks, she felt like Jihyo was with her fully.

That’s what she’d wanted all along.

“You know you don’t have to be the one to do everything all the time, baby.” Nayeon whispered between kisses. “I can handle it when you can’t. And right now, you deserve a break.”

Jihyo hummed out a reply, pressing herself up to kiss Nayeon better. She parted her lips just enough for Nayeon to press her tongue into her mouth, practically whimpering at the feeling. The kiss went from gentle to deep to a little too intense a bit fast, both of them finally pulling away for air the moment their teeth clattered together. Nayeon sat back on her knees, laughing at how red Jihyo’s face was, how she was blushing as if they hadn’t ever kissed before. Jihyo waved her arms around in protest, shouting a string of embarrassed “unnie, cut it out”s as she playfully swatted at Nayeon.

This was what Nayeon had been missing, more than anything else. Having Jihyo by her side, taking care of one another in the most mundane ways possible. She took Jihyo’s hands in her own, holding them down as she pressed her wife into the mattress, kissing her again. And again, and again.

That was enough for now. They didn’t really need to talk about it any further, it was clear how both of them felt. The incident was over, they would move on. That’s how it always went with them- they’d butt heads, talk about it, move on, keep the lessons they learned in mind. Jihyo never made the same mistake twice, and Nayeon never let herself get caught up on the past. That’s why they worked so well, why they could get as rough as they did with one another. If Jihyo was the one inflicting the pain, she was the one to help Nayeon heal. If Nayeon was going to take it, she’d always make how she really felt known. Communication, fully. And they hadn’t been doing as good of a job at that lately.

“Nayeon, baby.” Jihyo pleaded between kisses. She didn’t put up a real fight. “Let me run you a bath and make dinner.”

It was alright now, though.

Nayeon hummed, kissing her again.

“I showered earlier, but I guess it’s only fair.” She said, her lips still halfway pressed against Jihyo’s. “But I said you deserve a break, y’know?”

Jihyo whined as Nayeon pulled away.

“Why can’t my break be getting to take care of you?”

Nayeon swore that Park Jihyo was the only person on planet earth who spend her time off from her job where she’s constantly fixing things for others by doing things for others. Or really, doing things for her. Or for Jeongyeon. But that’s the privilege she got as their best friend of over a decade, for putting up with them for as long as she has. Still, though- this was about Jihyo.

“Fine.” Nayeon huffed out. “But I want you to take a bath with me. I need to wash your hair. It’s greasy.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

So finally, after a bit more kissing, and a bit of letting their hands wander, both of them got up. Nayeon stretched her arms out over her head, cracking her back (while ignoring Jihyo’s passing comment about how she was getting “too old to handle her”), before letting Jihyo pull her off to their bathroom. She leaned against the counter as Jihyo started the water, which caused her to finally register just how badly her ass hurt when it made contact with the cold granite.

“Oh my god, Jihyo. You ruined my ass.” Nayeon hissed, standing back up straight, running her hand over the bruised skin. “Why did you use the damn belt? We have a paddle and a crop.”

Jihyo looked up from the tub, her lips mashed together in embarrassment.

“It felt right in the moment.”

Nayeon just laughed, exasperated. She finally walked over next to Jihyo, taking off her bra and underwear, tossing them aside, a bit too casually considering how much she’d paid for them.

“I mean, it was pretty hot.”

Jihyo smiled up at her, brightly. Soon enough they were in the tub together, Nayeon between Jihyo’s legs, her back against the younger girl’s front as they just enjoyed each other’s presence. The water was nice, warm, soothing Nayeon’s damaged skin and relaxing her tight muscles. Jihyo had her chin resting on Nayeon’s shoulder, her arms around her waist, occasionally leaning in to press kisses against her neck. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than sweet, but still, after not getting exactly what she wanted, Nayeon found herself getting wound right back up. And Jihyo figured it out fast, noticing how she started shifting, squeezing her thighs together. Nayeon didn’t stop her when her hands drifted, one going up to cup her breast while the other one went down, her fingers delicately running along her slit before dipping inside.

“Jihyo, please.” Nayeon groaned out, her head falling back against Jihyo’s shoulder.

She didn’t have to say exactly what she needed. Jihyo knew. Just like she always did.

“Shh, baby.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple as her fingers pumped in and out of her. “I’ve got you. You’re the only thing I care about right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

And really, that’s what Nayeon needed to hear, more than anything else.

[seiya-starsniper]

For the angst prompt list: “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Oh I absolutely ADORE this particular prompt, I'm so glad you've picked it. I'd previously done a fill for it [here], but this one's an entirely different premise all on its own, I hope you enjoy it!

angst prompts list

cw: memory loss -----

The man standing across the bar is dangerous.

Rob’s gained an appreciation for dangerous creatures, ever since he woke up in the middle of what was effectively the aftermath of a bloodbath, with no memory of who he was or how he got there. All he knew was that something bad had happened, and somehow, he’d survived it.

He’d fled London shortly after, when he’d discovered that while he didn’t know who he was, it seemed other more powerful and dangerous creatures did. Rob realized fairly quickly that if he had any hope of living a normal life, leaving the continent was probably the best course of action. He’d barely had time to investigate the life he’d had beforehand, only knowing that his captors had tracked him down under the name Robert Goldsmith.

That had been over 20 years ago. Rob hasn’t aged a day since then, and he’s also unfortunately never been able to fully shake attracting the supernatural. There’s something about him, the demons and the fae and the vampires tell him. Something old, something covetous. Rob knew he was older than he looked, he could feel his age in his bones, and one too many close calls with death all but proved he was some sort of immortal.

And now he’s caught the scent of something even older than him. The man (no, he’s not a man, he only wears the skin of a man) is stunningly beautiful, with wild dark hair and eyes bluer than the sky. If Rob didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man was an elf or some other type of fae, but no. He’s older than that. More powerful than that.

An angel, perhaps? He’s certainly beautiful enough to be one. Rob’s only heard rumors of their existence, but he’s also heard looking upon them would burn your eyeballs right out of their sockets. He tries not to appear wary and guarded as the creature locks eyes with him, but he can’t help but let out a small gasp, heart thundering in his chest, as the man-shaped being begins to approach his table. 

“Hob Gadling,” the creature addresses him. “I have been searching for you.”

The declaration hit Rob like a hammer to the face. Something inside him is howling, yes, that is me, I am Hob, and it’s almost as terrifying a feeling as when he first woke up in that bloodied basement, his memories wiped clean from his mind. Somehow this creature knows him, not in the way the others have known of him, but actually knows who he was before his memories were stolen.

“I’m sorry,” Rob (no, not Rob, he is Hob) says, trying hard to keep his voice as light as possible, even as he feels his entire world shift sideways. “Have we met before?”

The creature rears back as if Hob had slapped him across the face. His pained expression grips something in Hob’s heart, something old, something achingly familiar. Hob knows then, in this exact moment, that this creature is something precious to him. A companion. A friend. His heart yearns to reach out this beautiful being, to touch, to hold, anything to reassure him that finally, he is no longer alone in this world.

But then the man’s eyes narrow, pain now replaced by unmistakable fury, and it is Hob who rears back now, a deep seated fear he knows but does not remember rising to the surface. 

“A memory demon has taken your mind,” the man growls, his voice suddenly octaves deeper than it had been when he had first greeted Hob. He stands suddenly, and moves to leave the bar.

Absolute terror grips Hob then, and he shouts, “Wait, don’t leave!” before getting up himself to chase the man.

The stranger (his Stranger?) is fast, but Hob manages to catch him just outside the door. He grips the other man’s arm tightly, hoping and praying that somehow he won’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

“Please don’t leave me again,” Hob begs. Again? Hob thinks to himself. Has the stranger left him before?

The man’s expression softens instantly.

“Had my hubris not gotten the better of me,” the Stranger says, all righteous fury gone from his voice, “I would not have allowed this to happen. My imprisonment has taken far more from me than I ever feared.”

Imprisonment?

“You were captured?” Hob breathes, shocked.

“I was,” the Stranger replies. “I did not miss our appointment in 1989 intentionally.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about,” Hob says, practically in hysterics. “Will you tell me? Everything I’m missing? I…I haven’t been back to London since…”

“I had planned,” the Stranger interrupts him, “to seek the demon who stole your mind.”

“I’ve been without my memories for 20 years now,” Hob replies. “I can go on for a few more days. Just. Stay. Please.”

Something in his tone must appeal to the Stranger, because he sighs and then nods his agreement. 

“Have you a place where we may speak in private?” he asks, and Hob nods. 

“Not too far of a walk from here,” Hob replies, before he realizes he still has a death grip on the Stranger’s arm. He releases it, slowly, still not totally convinced the other won’t disappear if he lets go. When he does not, Hob jerks his head in the direction of his apartment, and then they begin to walk. 

“I guess we could start with names then?” Hob asks. “You, uh, you seemed to know mine. My true name anyways. I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten yours.”

The stranger huffs, and shakes his head, as if recalling a particularly humorous memory. Hob wonders if he’ll hear what it is in their talk tonight.

 “My name,” the man says, voice lowered to almost a purr, “is Dream.”

[orionauriga]

quantum immortality

the umbrella academy | five-centric s4 fix-it | 5k words | gen

“Be realistic,” Booth Five says. “It’s time you face inevitability. The rest of us have.” “No,” Five snarls, appalled at the words and doubly so to hear them in his own voice. “You know who you sound like? The Handler.”

In Max’s Deli, Five comes to a different conclusion.

-----

tldr: five hargreeves fucking loves and would do anything for his family and he would not lay down and die when told there's nothing he can do to save them.

[adventure-waffles]

A Crane in a Crowd of Chickens

🐔 Rated T

🐔 4.5k

🐔 Gongyi Xiao / Shen Qingqiu

🐔 Shen Qingqiu’s unwanted harem

The original version of this post had a broken link, please reblog this one only T^T

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59062780

[djarinova]

all eyes on him — eren jaeger

˗ˏ✎ synopsis: - you spend time watching eren, getting to know him and his friends, until one night you don't spot him at a party, and you come to realise that he's noticed you noticing him

˗ˏcontent - gn reader, college au, alcohol mention, slight peer pressure to drink but not really, reader is at a party, eren loves attention ˗ˏwords - 1k

˗ˏnotes - i truly don't know where this came from..it started as a small thought and i got a tad carried away with the idea + practically wrote this all in one sitting, it's not proofread, enjoy<3

you meet eren through mikasa, and from the moment she introduces you to him you can't help but think "how can someone like mikasa be friends with a guy like eren?" he comes off as outrageously self centred and cocky, and you've heard whispers about him from almost every corner of campus. he's loud, obnoxiously so, and it seems like it's practically impossible for him to attend all his lectures unless prompted by some outside force (namely mikasa or armin, or the occasional threat of expulsion). 

he reminds you—odd though it may seem—of tinkerbell. it's almost like clockwork, the way that at every party he attends he always finds some excuse to have everyone's eyes on him. you don't notice it at first, too caught up in the whirlwind of socialising with new people—shots keep getting past to you, tall guys (one with a buzzcut and another with what appears to be a pinkish mullet, although it's hard to tell in the dim lighting) who claim to be friends with mikasa crowding around you, laughing and joking with you like you've known them for years, a dark haired girl fussing around you, and loudly asking if you'd want to get food after this. but as you assimilate to your surroundings, getting more and more comfortable with this group of people you've found yourself in—you soon learn that the tall guys' names are connie and jean, respectively—you begin to watch eren, in those brief moments before he's called everyone's attention, and it's hard to put your finger on what look he has written on his face, but it makes you feel as though you're watching something that wasn't meant to be seen. like seeing an actor talking with a co-star just off stage, hidden almost fully behind the curtain, and watching their face transform when they set foot on stage. it's as if eren's mask slips down, just long enough for you to get a look at the face underneath, before he's pulling it back on and yelling at the crowd—daring himself to down what's left in his vodka bottle and perform as many front flips in the garden as he can before he throws up.

it's not long before eren notices you watching him. one night at a party—hosted by some guy named reiner—you realise, as jean presses a glass of water into your hand, that eren was nowhere to be found. your eyes scan the tightly packed kitchen, looking for that mop of dark hair, but find nothing. you excuse yourself and manage to squeeze into the living room, although it is considerably less cramped, there is still no sign of eren. your eyebrows furrow, and you're about to turn back to where you came from, when a cool hand grabs your wrist and pulls you towards a door you hadn't even noticed. it leads into a surprisingly spacious bathroom, and as your eyes scan the room you realise with a start that the bathroom door has just been closed—leaving you with an odd ringing in your ears. the silence is almost deafening, and you notice dimly that the door has been locked as well, a small ‘click’ echoing in your ears. you turn towards your wrist, and your eyes land on the hand that rests there. it's still gripping you, and you find that you aren't surprised by the voice that brings you out of your daze.

“I've noticed you watching me, you know.” eren says.

your cheeks heat, and you feel that all too familiar eruption of butterflies in your stomach. worry clouds your mind, the possibility that you've ruined your newly made friendships has you gnawing at your cheeks. you're about to speak, to defend yourself in some way, explain your actions, when erens voice interrupts your thoughts again.

“i like it.” 

your eyes snap up to his. temporarily forgetting your anxieties, your hands fly upwards, coming to rest at the back of eren’s head. your fingers thread through his hair and without warning his lips are on yours. your eyes widen, erens hands are now gripping your waist, his tongue runs across your lower lip, and you feel him bite it gently. but before you have a chance for your brain to catch up with his actions, eren pushes himself away from you, as if your touch burns him.  

you tilt your head questioningly, your hands dropping limply to your sides. he's now stood as far from you as he can, his knees hitting the edge of the bath as he staggers backwards. there's something about his stance that makes you want to reach out, and although you can't see his eyes, you're almost sure that the glimmer of want you glimpsed a few seconds ago is still there.

“ere—” you start. the sound of your voice seems to stir eren from his thoughts, and just as fast as he vanished from your arms, he suddenly reappears in front of you.

his mouth opens and closes multiple times, the words seem to disappear from his tongue each time he goes to speak. you wonder what storm is brewing inside his head, and you want nothing more than to let him spill it onto you, as though you are the land that was made to handle such a heavy downpour.

when he says nothing, you move to thread your hands behind his head once again. he lets you, and slowly he brings his forehead down to yours. you stand still, unsure of what to do—unsure more so of the confusing sequence of actions that led you to this moment. 

the two of you stand this way—foreheads together, your arms around eren's neck and his hands gripping your waist tightly—for what seems like hours. a sharp knock on the door breaks you apart, eren tears himself from your grasp, and you can do nothing but watch silently as he unlocks the door and disappears from your view without so much as a word. your cheeks flush as someone drunkenly stumbles into the bathroom—the source of the knock, you assume—a knowing look in their eyes as you flee from the bathroom, your mind swirling with questions and your heart fluttering wildly.

[abellyfulloffriends]

Storm Shelter

It's here! I apologize for the huge delay, this story went through two rewrites because I just wasn't happy with the tone! Regardless I am so happy to finally share it with you all!

***

I remember you told me thunderstorms made you uncomfortable, while it wasn’t the worst thing for you to handle, you definitely couldn’t sleep with one around. You had also told me you couldn’t think about anything else until you knew you were safe. Every storm since then, you came to me or called me so that you could find that feeling.

Tonight, you didn’t.

It was abnormally cold for early spring, the open bedside window letting in a cold draft causing the curtains to flap in the wind. It didn’t feel right not having you here while the storm raged outside. Normally, when a storm rolled through, you would sit in my lap, or cuddle yourself to my chest. I would read to you softly to have you focus on something else.

Originally, I would have waited a little longer for you, but the storm became violent. The lashing rain sounded like rocks against the roof, and water began soaking the windowsill. Figuring closing the window would help, I stand from my chair.

I stare out the window to the street below. The storm is getting worse; the rain has completely overtaken the window, almost looking underwater. The rainwater flows through the wind, lashing at the side of the building. My shoulders are tense as the storm continues to rage.

A sudden flash of light nearly blinds me, combined with the deafening shriek of a lightning bolt searing a large crack in the sky. I grab my chest, startled. I hear you scream from the other side of the wall. Immediately after everything goes dark as the power fails. I gather myself quickly and hastily force the window shut. I turn and call out your name, attempting to hide the fact the storm is getting to me as well. Over the rumbling of thunder, I faintly hear you shout something. It’s coming from down the hall.

Under the nightstand, I retrieve my emergency lantern.

I need to find you.

***

Your scream seemed to have come from the far end of the place. I check the laundry room first, gently knocking on the door. I don’t get a response, but I decide to keep checking. You thankfully aren’t in any of the machines. You don’t seem to be in the side closet either.

Turning my search to the bathroom, I pull the shower curtains aside and look through the top cabinets. Being so small, you tend to hide in dark corners to shield yourself. After searching one side of the room, more thunder crashes outside, bright lights glowing through the foggy glass. I hear you whimper close by. I announce myself softly.

I notice the cabinet door under the sink is ajar. I tap it with my fingers and peer inside. There I finally find you, your knees up against your chest, and your hands covering your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you sob softly. Kneeling, I set the lantern next to me. The light gets your attention.

You hesitantly look up and lock eyes with me, then look away. Attempting to reassure you, I smile lightly, “Hey, it’s me, I’m here now.”

You mumble an apology, hugging your knees tighter. I hold out my hand, palm up. You pause before placing one of your hands into my fingers. You let out a shaky breath and begin to speak a little clearer. You apologize again, expressing regret. You had thought you could have handled it alone this time. You said having to admit to a bad call was tough on you.

I didn’t agree at all.

“It wasn’t a bad decision, and you don’t have to feel ashamed for it.” I move my hand further into the cabinet, “May I?” You begin unfolding yourself and grabbing onto me. I wipe your tears with my thumb.

“Do you want to go back to my room and I can read to you?” You nestle your face into my hand and nod.

***

I set you and the lantern on my nightstand, I pick up a bottle of water from the closet and sit down on the edge of the bed. At this point the storm has started to move out of the area, the thunder growing more distant and less frequent. I take a swing of the water, you seem to look in my direction and look away when I finish swallowing.

I set down the water and motion to the stack of books, figuring you’d want me to read to you. You shake your head. “No?" You shuffle your feet, hands clasped in front of you. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You gesture to my midsection. I look down and back up, slightly confused, “What are you suggesting?” You look off to the side, rubbing your arms. “Do you want to cuddle?” You look at me directly and begin to say something, but turn away again.

Then I get the memo.

“So,” I flash a toothy grin and slowly pat my stomach. “You want me to eat you?” You lock eyes with me, and smile shyly.

Every now and then you'd let me do this, something I had first suggested years ago, and ever since you knew it was safe, you always took the opportunity. “I hope you’re ready, but first-” I lean in close, whispering to you, "I just want a small taste." I drag my tongue over your face.

Your heart starts to flutter. Excited, you hold out your arms above your head. I reach down and cup you in my hands, your small body fitting snugly in my hands. I gently lift you from the nightstand, bringing you up to eye level, blowing a little air over you as I sigh. You wiggle in my grasp, barely containing yourself. I lick my lips and part them, rolling out and dropping my tongue, warm breath cascading over you. My open mouth is a clear view right down to the back of my throat.

Gingerly, you place one hand on my tongue, then the other. Your hands feel cold on the warm muscle. You exclaim how soft it is, then start rubbing your hands over my taste buds. I lift your body as you pull yourself in, extending my tongue under your torso, and releasing my grip around you, grasping you with only a single hand. I hold your lower half with my fingers as I tilt my head back. You slide in a little more.

I try not to be too greedy with you, but you don’t seem to want to wait as you attempt to squirm deeper. I lift you to my palate and let go of your legs, maneuvering my tongue under your feet. I tilt my head back and drop my tongue, letting you slide down, the thick saliva squelching as you slip. I open my throat and swallow with a resounding wet glrk, downing you like a shot. I take my hand and place it over my neck, feeling the small bulge travel past my sternum. I take a sigh as I level my head. Your trip down doesn't take long, my gullet works like a water slide, and you soon reach a stopping point. Your weight shifts as you reach your destination, squeezing through and dropping into my stomach.

You take a moment to gather yourself, running your hands through the folds of the fleshy walls, my belly growling in response. A smile creeps across your face. You attempt to find purchase to steady yourself but it’s too slick. You end up conceding and letting my belly cradle you, sinking further as the sounds of my heartbeat quicken. I slowly lay myself down, careful not to jostle you in there. Pulling the covers over me, I reach over and turn off the lantern. The storm is barely audible off in the distance. I begin massaging my stomach.

My stomach descends on you as I press down, gurgles reverberating around you. Your eyes feel heavy after tonight’s excitement, and the rhythmic breathing and heartbeat, accompanied by the occasional noise from my belly, have made you feel sleepy. You yawn lightly, stretching yourself out across the tight chamber. My belly relaxes and forms snuggly around you. You start to doze as you lay inside my stomach.

You know you’re safe, tucked away where nothing can hurt you, and you forget about the storm, everything around you feels like my presence, the feeling of isolation you felt curled up under the bathroom sink is gone, I’m the only thing on your mind now.

I place both hands protectively over you. Feeling your movements slow as you fall asleep, I close my eyes and focus on feeling fullness and weight in my stomach. I sigh deeply and relax.

“Sweet dreams.”

[ooachilliaoo]

First Kiss

“So, I fooled you, did I?” he asked, the low timbre of his voice sending pleasant shivers through her entire body. “Good to know.”

She knew what was going to happen a moment before it did.

She’d been waiting for it for weeks. In fact, for the last few days, as their flirting had seemingly ratcheted up several notches, she was quite certain that she’d never wanted anything more in her life than for her fellow Grey Warden to kiss her.

Maybe that was why she remained utterly paralysed as he closed the distance between them.

Last week, she might have literally thrown herself into his arms, but then last week she’d only wanted him to kiss her. Now it was her deepest, most secret desire. Now it meant something. Something big.

Maker, she couldn’t even breathe.

His lips were soft as they met hers. Tentative, as it if maybe it meant as much to him as it did to her. Now, she found that she couldn’t help but breathe it all in. His scent, his taste, the feel of his lips on hers…

It was too much. Too much sensation. She couldn’t process it, and yet, when he began to pull away, she couldn’t help but kiss him back, recapturing his lips to prolong the feeling for a long as possible.

He responded in kind. Suddenly, what had been tentative, and sweet, and unsure, became harsh, and deep, and passionate.

Pushing her against the nearest tree, he kissed her as if he’d devour her, as if something had broken loose inside him, as it had inside her, and now neither of them could do anything but drown in each other.  A state of affairs that she didn’t take any issue with at all. She was just glad that he’d asked to speak to her alone, and that they’d walked a fair way away from camp to have this particular ‘conversation’.

She was fairly sure there wasn’t a spare inch of space between them, yet she buried her fingers in his hair anyway, intent on pulling him closer. She felt as if she were liquid fire in his arms. Not knowing what she needed, just that it was more. More of this feeling, more of his kiss, more of him.

All of him.

Read the Rest on AO3

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month 2024 - Sandwich

thank you @youngroyals-events! my first contribution to wille's month. xx

Wille groans loudly and shakes his head. “No, no, I said no tomato. No tomato. She doesn’t like tomatoes… Yes, cucumber is fine… No, your website clearly lists at least three other types without tomatoes… Well, make them without tomatoes, then!” 

Simon watches amusedly as his husband paces back and forth across the living room, a few times nearly walking straight into the coffee table, too distracted by the argument he’s having over the phone. 

“Felice, this event is so important,” he rambles as he walks, likely beginning to wear a track in the carpet. “I thought you were a professional! What’s so hard about making sandwiches without tomatoes?” 

Feeling the need to save their poor friend from Wille’s wrath, Simon stands carefully and moves into Wille’s path. He only jumps slightly as Simon wraps his free arm around Wille’s waist to stop him. Muffled through the speaker, he can hear Felice’s calming tone. Thankfully, she’s endured a few of Wille’s rampages over this and knew not to take it personally. Today, the topic is finger sandwiches; though both she and Simon know that’s not really what it’s about. 

“Darling, it’s okay,” he whispers into the soft fabric of Wille’s shirt, then presses a soft kiss to his neck. 

Wille sighs and relaxes into Simon’s arms a bit, turning so they’re facing each other. Their eyes meet and a small, tired smile spreads on Wille’s lips. He mumbles an apology into the phone and hangs up.

“She’ll probably won’t even eat the sandwiches, much less remember the party." 

From Simon’s arms, a small coo arises and both men look down at their daughter. She stares up at them with wide, happy eyes and makes another loud gurgle sound, then laughs up at them.

“See, even she agrees,” Simon teases, brushing at the fine hair on her head. 

Wille sighs again and drops his head to rest against Simon’s, wrapping his arms around both of them, so their darling baby is sandwiched between them, in a little bubble of love. 

“I just want it to be perfect,” Wille whispers, gazing down into her wide eyes. “She deserves the perfect birthday.” 

Simon nods and nuzzles his head into the crook of Wille’s neck, humming at his warmth. Though still a few weeks out, something about planning their daughter’s first birthday party had made Wille more stressed than usual. Simon thought he might know why, had been privy to a bad birthday or two. So, he curls closer to his husband and makes a note to send Felice a big bouquet later.

“It will be perfect, baby,” he says. “You’re doing a great job. We’re all happy and healthy and together. That’s what matters. Sandwiches or no sandwiches.”

[mifustudy]

Ramona Renaissance: The Multi-Media Timeline of Ramona Flowers 

  The Scott Pilgrim vs. the World franchise has charmed audiences with its unique blend of action, comedy, and romance, offering an imaginative perspective on early adulthood. This story follows protagonist Scott Pilgrim and his mysterious love interest, Ramona Flowers, in a nerd-culture-reference-filled narrative; quiet the mouthful, I know. From Bryan Lee O'Malley's original graphic novel series, Edgar Wright’s film, and BenDavid Grabinski’s anime series, Ramona's characterization undergoes nuanced adjustments that show her development as a character through the varying plot points in each retelling. Her portrayal across the adaptations is a centerpiece for analysis and discussion surrounding this franchise. Fully understanding each depiction of Ramona requires examining how her relationships, personality, and internal struggles affect and shape the medium she is involved in. I aim to highlight each adaptation's intricacies and how they affect the overall story plus Ramona Flowers’ character. 

  Following a complex character like Ramona Flowers across more than a decade's worth of content between three types of media is a demanding task. With the constantly evolving climate of what is acceptable in entertainment in the past couple of years to creative differences, the story of Scott Pilgrim has shifted as many times as Ramona has alone. These overall plot shifts are the catalysts of said changes within her character. To satiate the overwhelmed, let’s break down the basics of this puzzling persona. 

  The most crucial part of Ramona’s character in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is the catalyst of the general plot in each adaptation: her past romantic endeavors. These previous partners fall under the title of the “Seven Evil Exes,” all of them posing as a threat to Scott and Ramona’s budding relationship throughout the story. Being well-known for her hectic love life both in and out of the fan base, Ramona Flowers brings more than that to the table. Creator Bryan Lee O’Malley lays out the process of developing Ramona’s character in the afterword of Volume 1 of the graphic novel series: Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life: 

 “I briefly worked with Brian Wood on one of his cool, sophisticated, ass-kicking New York girl comics. Part of the genesis of Ramona was wanting to grab a character like that and take her out of her element to boring old Toronto—I think that’s why she was a rollerblading delivery girl” (172).  

  In this brief passage, O’Malley makes a point to reflect on the inspiration pulled from American comic writer and illustrator Brian Wood. Being a Canadian artist, the joke of using American character tropes becomes a recurring theme in the series, along with Ramona’s habitual hair dying. Within the stories of each adaptation, this woman’s introduction to Scott Pilgrim’s life was through dreams. Throughout the first couple volumes of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, readers are thrown into an ebb of video game references, indie rock, and relationship troubles as Scott navigates his twenties, paired witty dialogue against the backdrop of Toronto, Canada. As Ramona enters the scene, it is evident that she becomes a central figure in the series with every page turn; her presence influences much of the story's intrigue and conflicts. Originally introduced as an ordinary object of a male protagonist’s affection, Ramona persistently exudes an undeniable sense of unique appeal with her character quirks. 

  A quirk particular to the book series that is worth mentioning is something called The Glow. First occurring in the last few pages of Volume 1, this odd trait appears due to Scott name-dropping a significant ex-partner of Ramona’s, Gideon Graves (Precious Little Life, 164). The Glow is a type of “psychic warfare” created by Gideon to imprison people in their heads to “weaponize(d)" their emotions (Fandom.com), strengthening negative emotions and having them overpower any positive ones. This power was made to tear down relationships Ramona attempts to form while also being infectious through physical touch, proving to be quite the plot device. The usage of this bizarre ability is seen most notably in Volume 4, Scott Pilgrim Gets It Together, as Scott and Ramona confront the insecurities in their connection due to a book-exclusive character leading to harmful judgments (127-129). The infectious quality of The Glow is shown with Scott himself experiencing the effects of the glow, giving the audience a chance to see how it feels firsthand (166-171). 

  With the absence of The Glow in the film and anime adaptations, each story undercuts vital aspects of Scott and Ramona’s relationship, stripping viewers of an in-depth portrayal of their bond through a strange phenomenon. The movie has its own version of this plot device, being close in concept to the novel. This Glow stand-in is a microchip planted into Ramona’s neck by Gideon, though it feels more like a throwaway line rather than a definite story choice; the only noticeable challenge between Ramona and Scott through this microchip is their argument over the Seven Evil Exes and Ramona’s overall dating history (Scott Pilgrim, 1:18:06). The underutilization of a device like The Glow in the film adaptation is a hindrance to the plot. Following the discussion of the replacement and absence of a plotline through The Glow in this medium, it would be best to explore the rest of what hinders Ramona’s growth story-wise further.  

  The depiction of Ramona in the Scott Pilgrim vs. the World film takes significant steps back in characterization compared to the graphic novel series. Merging multiple books into 112 minutes is daunting, many things had to be done to write a plot that fit what was needed to create a faithful enough adaptation. The most notable change is Ramona Flowers’ character as she enters movie trope territory. Being introduced in each iteration through a dream, many reviewers and audience members pinned her as a “manic pixie dream girl.” This trope, originated by film critic Nathan Rabin, alludes to quirky and desirable female characters who are used to push a narrative forward; these characters often lack depth and act as romantic interests for male protagonists (Dixon). The story alterations made for this cinematic adaptation display the departure from the nuanced character Ramona was in the books. These alterations have led to the major mischaracterization of her among a much wider audience.  

  Throughout the 2010 cinematic release, Ramona Flowers’ role in the story has been debated as time goes on. With the importance of her Evil Exes being the main push of the plot, it has been noted that these fights for her affection have put Ramona in an “influential position” (Dixon). This unusual predicament is one of the reasons she is considered a “manic pixie dream girl” in the first place. Within the sea of Scott Pilgrim reviewers, few of them stray away from this idea, but Emma Shapera decided to get vocal. Shapera’s article on the pop culture news site Collider focuses on why Ramona “Deserves Another Look,” explicitly pointing toward her movie appearance. With prior knowledge of her characterization from the source material—the graphic novel series—it is evident that Ramona Flowers’ past relationships shaped her into who she is when the audience meets her. Shapera states the way these connections affected Ramona’s persona gradually made her self-aware of the men she’s been with trying to take control. Not wanting to go through with that again, she was adamant that her new love interest, Scott, would not get to do the same (“Why Ramona Flowers”). 

  After discussing the distinctions between the film and novels concerning Ramona, it is finally time to set the scene for the franchise’s most recent addition: the anime series. Ramona’s depiction in the anime series Scott Pilgrim Takes Off notably diverges from the nuanced characterization in the movie and books. Starting by following the same formula, the show eased the audience into a false sense of security. By the end of Episode One, everything is flipped upside down; Scott Pilgrim goes missing during his fight with an Evil Ex! This swiftly transitions into Ramona taking on the protagonist role. With the camera on her, the narrative focuses on her avoidant attachment style and relationships with surrounding characters. This element of Ramona's character was severely undeveloped in the film, so having the anime focus on something the mainstream adaptation failed to expand on does a great deal of work recontextualizing Ramona’s character (Fox). 

  There is no better way to start breaking down Ramona’s developed connections with others than with her romantic interest, Scott Pilgrim. The attraction between these two characters is unquestionable the moment they meet in Takes Off, which is unheard of compared to the film and novels; their relationship grew gradually while the anime took an immediate turn. From a gimmicky top ten list, Josuha Fox describes Ramona as “being as in love with Scott as he was with her,” and this sentiment is clear throughout each episode (“Biggest Differences,” 7). As the show progresses with the absence of Scott as the protagonist, Ramona’s mission is to discover what had happened to him. As she moves through the plot to find her boyfriend of one day’s whereabouts, Ramona is tasked with confronting her past—also known as her Evil Exes. Going to her exes for answers, as she believes they are the culprits of Scott’s disappearance. Her eagerness to find Scott transcends her fear, forcing her not to run away like she always had before. As Fox had put it, “it’s impossible to see their relationship as anything other than true love” (“Biggest Differences,” 7). 

  Each episode focuses on a different Evil Ex and how Ramona reconciles with them. To avoid explaining and getting into the intricacies of every single one, I picked my favorite episode that shows how much Ramona’s character grows in this adaptation: Episode Three. Episode Three, “Ramona Rents a Video” introduces the audience to Ramona’s fourth Evil Ex, Roxie Richter, and how their relationship blossomed then died. With Roxie having little screen time across the franchise, her storyline this episode is a breath of fresh air similar Ramona’s character rework. In the episode, the two women battle in a video store, somehow sending them in and out of reality through different movies as Ramona tries to piece together where Scott had gone and why Roxie ended up being so cruel. After flashing through the real and film world while simultaneously looking back on their relationship, Ramona finally apologizes for how she had treated Roxie (“Ramona Rents a Video,” 16:30-18:14). “I was too afraid to face you,” Ramona explained before Roxie responds, heartbroken: “You were afraid? Good for you! All I wanted was for you to see me” (17:41-17:58)! The connection between the two slowly reforming is heartwarming while also displaying a crucial upgrade in Ramona’s character; this interaction would not have happened in the film. 

  The multifaceted portrayal of Ramona Flowers in the Scott Pilgrim vs. the World franchise perfectly reflects the developmental changes each adaptation has undergone. Starting with a graphic novel series, to a critically acclaimed film, and finally landing a Netflix original anime, Ramona’s personality has been through multiple reimagined storylines. As the focal point of most analysis and discussion in the fanbase over the years, it is most important to recognize her growth as a character. Examining the creative interpretations and narrative differences across mediums provides a deeper understanding of Ramona’s depth and relevance in each rendition. 

sources below: https://pastebin.com/nLum4ta0

[emo-trash101]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a skipp x male reader where, yk how he plays like his little ukulele (guitar?) Maybe just reader and skipp having a cute moment of him playing reader something sappy and cute and reader falling even more head over heals for him, PLZ FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IS YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE OR ANYTHING❤

I WOULD LOVE TO WRITE THIS, also just for everyone's knowledge, Zeddyzi confirmed that Skipp plays a mandolin (I'm not sure if that's really changed) but I'm going to be sticking with that. I also made it a one shot, so just let me know if you want headcannons instead!

When Words Fail, Music Speaks

Skipp x m! Reader

Pronouns: Second person, male implied

Word count: 679

Tw: Too much cuteness, betting???

Late nights weren't exactly a you thing, but with all the stress if possibly not having enough money to feed everyone along with your own personal quarrels of having a huge crush on one of your closest friends, you don't particularly have a choice. However, that doesn't mean you necessarily mind. Looking at the stars and moon late at night when there's nothing else to bother you is very serene.

On the other hand, no matter how many times you try to think about literally anything else, your mind always wanders back to Skipp. With his kind eyes and caring heart, it's honestly hard to dislike him, but you got the short end of the stick. You don't just like him, you like him, which is almost a completely different problem.

"Hey (name)..." You hear from behind you, and you almost go flying like a feral cat. You turn around to see who just approached you and it's no one other than Skipp. "Oh! Hey Skipp!" You say, trying to mask your nervousness with excitement (it's obviously not working).

Before you really even know it, Skipp is sitting by you conversing with you like every time he speaks he doesn't make your heart race. "So, what's been going on with you?" He asks, looking at you with that almost sickeningly sweet face you've learned to love. "W-what do you mean?" You ask, almost completely about to panic and just run away towards the moon so you would never have to answer his question.

"I'm just a bit worried about you, you've honestly been acting a bit strange" He says almost defeatedly. Suddenly you feel a pang in your heart. Did I really make him worry about me that much? you think to yourself fear and anxiety plaguing your emotions. "But you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He adds on, which makes you realize how long you've essentially been sitting in silence for. "Oh no! It's just that I'm worried we haven't been making enough money...y'know?" You almost whisper shout, almost lying. It's not exactly that it isn't part of the truth, but it's not exactly it either.

"Thats okay! I worry about that too." He says, smiling at you so kindly. That smile that makes you feel like you could either vomit or die, or both. You look back at him, your face probably having a stupid lovesick look plastered on it. For once you are genuinely grateful that the moon has horrible illumination. "Is that why you're awake this late?" He asks, and before you even know it, you're nodding in agreement, silently hoping he'll offer to give you a hug or some other sweet form of affection to "help you sleep".

After you nod, he just looks at you, almost like he's studying your face like one would study an art piece. "Well...I can play you something on my mandolin if you'd like." He says, pulling him mandolin seemingly out of nowhere, but honestly, you could care less about the laws of physics currently, you just wish he would keep looking at you like that every single day.

"Yeah, I'd like that." You say smiling softly. He quickly lifts it up to himself and starts plucking the strings slowly. As he plays the mandolin the whole world feels as though it stops. The stars seem to shine brighter, the moon feels fuller, and you and him feel so much more awkwardly closer.

Before really anyone could stop it, your head is resting on his shoulder, and you're fast asleep. He glances down at you, a smile slowly making its way onto his face. He could worry tomorrow about making money or talking to you about your obvious feelings for eachother, but right now you're passed out on his shoulder.

Sure, tomorrow morning Vinnie and Stone will wake up first, and Vinnie will owe Stone extra food for having guessed that y'all would eventually fall asleep together, but that's for tomorrow. Tonight, you are a night person who happens to love listening to the mandolin.

This was so delightful to write, and I listened to so many songs played on the mandolin just to figure out how to write it 😭 Anyways for those who care, this is the song I honestly pictured Skipp playing

Have a lovely day y'all!

[crosshairlovebot]

turning pages (crosshair!reading headcanon)

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n)

warnings: n/a. it’s just fluff bc i love soft crosshair.

i just couldn’t get the image of crosshair reading out of my head. so this is very self-indulgent. i got VERY carried away with the drabble, it ended up being like 2k words but i’m only posting the second half. i’ll post the extended version if that’s something people would be interested in! let me know!

when his brothers are overwhelming or irritating him, he likes to go off alone, find a secret corner, and read. 

it started when he was a cadet, being forced to read by his instructors as a way to cool off when he got too frustrated during training exercises.

but he ended up enjoying it, finding solace in the solitude of reading.

tech liked to read too, but whilst tech prefers nonfiction, crosshair reads fiction -- mostly mysteries or thrillers. 

he downloads them onto his datapad so he can read them on particularly long missions and travels through hyperspace on the marauder. 

he had to ask tech for help in setting up the books on his datapad, and when tech questioned him further, he evaded answering.

reading is something that he likes to do alone. 

it’s a solitary activity for him that he’s not particularly keen on sharing with anyone.

when he reads on the marauder, he’ll chew on a toothpick and read chapters to pass the time, or calm down after a disagreement with hunter. 

he doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s reading.

when crosshair is undisturbed, he can really get engrossed in the book. it allows him to forget everything that’s going on for a moment, and re-centre himself.

he prefers silence, but since it’s often hard to find with his brothers around, he’ll settle for the ambience of the ship and his brother’s low chatter -- as long as they’re not too loud.

he’ll get annoyed if wrecker is being too loud because he can’t concentrate on the words.

he’ll grumble and lock himself away in the fresher just to get a moment alone with his book, the walls softening his brother’s booming voice more than the openness of his bunk.

he’ll often be forced out when wrecker inevitably knocks on the door an hour later complaining that he needs to use the privy. 

crosshair will hole up in there as long as he can, just to punish wrecker for being noisy earlier.

does wrecker ever learn?

no.

but if you disturb crosshair, well...

“Hey.”

Crosshair flinched and looked up to see you, brow creasing further as he attempted to shield his datapad with his arm. “What do you want?” he seethed, he felt his face heating up, annoyed and a little embarrassed that he was interrupted and caught reading.

But you were undeterred by his tone, and instead nodded at the poorly hidden datapad. “Is the book good?”

Crosshair scowled at you, moving the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. No one had ever asked, so he wasn’t sure why you were. “Why do you care?”

His defensiveness rolled off you and you only shrugged. “I’m looking for recommendations. I need something to do in my downtime.”

His frown deepened as he studied your expression. You had been with them for almost half a cycle, and over that time, he’d grown used to your inquisitive nature. At first, he didn’t know what to make of it, but over time he realised that that’s just who you were, and your questions and conversations were because you enjoyed their company. And over the past months, he’d grown fond of you; sharing amused looks when Tech and Wrecker bickered and exchanging remarks over the comms on missions. He considered you not just a colleague, but a friend.

But reading was something personal to him. It was his and his alone. He had to share everything with his brothers, and there was hardly a moment or space that was truly his own. Except when he was reading. Then, he was unreachable. His brothers knew this, and he knew that you knew it too. So why were you asking?

Why were you trying to reach him?

He tore himself away from your gaze and looked down, pulling out his datapad again and opening up the screen. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

“Thanks, Crosshair,” he heard the smile in your voice before your footsteps move away. He raises his eyes to watch you leave, stopping as Hunter pulls you over to his spot at the computer to ask you about a report.

Curious.

Several days later, after the squad was deferred from their initial return to Kamino and instead rerouted with another mission, meaning that they’d been stuck on the Marauder for several days in hyperspace. Though everyone was feeling pretty cagey having been in such close quarters for longer than they planned, it had given Crosshair the opportunity to finish the book without many interruptions.

He’d been wanting to talk to you; tell you about it, but he didn’t know how to. It was such a small thing, yet it was big to him.

On his way to the ‘fresher, he watched you push back the curtain Echo had installed on your bunk to give you a bit of extra privacy amongst five men, and jump down from your top rack. You smiled at him when you landed and as Crosshair approached, he took the opportunity to rip the bandage off and tell you.

“It was good,” he said stiffly as he brushed past you.

You stopped and turned to him. “The book?”

His hand was already on the ‘fresher’s door panel, ready to escape your warm gaze, but he stopped. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and hummed. “You’ll like it.”

Then he stepped inside the fresher and locked the door. He took in a breath and ran a hand over his face, wishing the heat in his cheeks would disappear. Crosshair looked in the mirror and rubbed at the centre of his chest, wondering what the feeling was that nestled there and why he didn’t hate it.

When the squad finally made it to Kamino almost a week later, Crosshair sat in their barracks, in his self-secluded corner bunk, and was cleaning his rifle after a training evaluation. He’d scored perfectly, of course, and his subdued happiness was felt by everyone in the squad, including you.

You arrived at the barracks to let the boys know that the final day’s meal service was ending in half an hour, as they’d all forgotten as usual. Everyone except Crosshair – who had already eaten on the way back from his evaluation – ran out to grab something before it closed. You stood at the door with an amused expression on your face, which he returned before continuing to clean his weapon.

He heard your footsteps fully enter the barracks and come closer. That feeling blooms in his chest again, but he elects to ignore it. “What is it?”

“I finished the book.”

He looked up to see you leaning on one of the crates that acted as a makeshift half-wall. You had a smile on your face that looked like it wanted to stretch further, but you were holding it back. Like you didn’t want to scare him with your excitement. He felt that knot in his sternum pull.

He pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “And?”

“You were right. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

His stomach flipped over itself, and he forced himself to hide how glad he is that you enjoyed his recommendation, realising now that he was scared that you wouldn’t.

Perhaps a small part of him correlated the book with himself – if you didn’t like the book then you didn’t like him, or you wouldn’t want to know him. But you did, so maybe you liked him, or could like more parts of him than the ones he’d already revealed to you. The most personal parts of himself.

“I’m not often wrong,” he smirked.

The grin you’d been holding back erupted and your whole face and posture lifted. Crosshair felt his whole body go warm.

“Do you have any other recommendations?”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, surprised and taken aback that you want to read more of what he likes. He watches your expression, searching for any insincerity. But your smile is earnest and eager and that knot in his chest tugs again, harder this time, and that warm feeling returns and unfurls.  

He places the toothpick back in his mouth and reaches under his pillow for his datapad. For the first time, he didn’t mind sharing his solitary act of reading. But only with you.

this is the first time i’ve written something bad batch related, so i hope it was okay and you enjoyed! let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more soft crosshair <3

tags: @mrs-grumpysniper​

[general-gt]

Behold, a fic brought to you by an enby who has not slept enough!

[bacarasbabe]

Hiiiiiiii, so happy! Can I ask about Savage + 2 ☆ { putting } a hand over their mouth to be quiet, from the smut prompts? Only if it’s something you’d find interesting!

Ohmygod talk about another amazing request 😩 I had so many ideas for this one too. So you get two fics 💕 Idk what it is but I've really been in the mood for more Savage recently. Thank you for the request and I hope you like what I wrote!

5 Sentence Fic Requests

The gasp you cry is punched from your gut, escaping before you’re able to gain control of your body once more.

It echoes down the hall, painting the smooth walls in the sounds of your staccatoed breaths while simultaneously giving away the topic of your private conversation, to anyone who overhears, with the man who’s currently pressed flush to your core.

Savage stills momentarily, pinning you to the same traitorous wall with his hips and kisses your swollen lips, a request to be quiet, before he thrusts resume.

Again, you’re unable to hold back the cry that erupts from your chest, so Savage resorts to replacing his mouth with the palm of his hand, gently yet firmly covering the lower half of your face.

“Come on my cock, little one, then I’ll take you back to my chambers where you can be as loud as you want.”

From your knees, the height difference between the two of you is greatly pronounced.

Savage towers over you, caging you underneath and between his legs as you work his leaking cock with your kiss-swollen lips and spit slicked hands.

He looks desperate, golden eyes half lidded, knees bent as if he was about to collapse to the floor.

You suck the bead of precum from the head of his cock and Savage keens loudly.

He cuts his cry off, smothering his mouth with his own hand in an attempt to control himself.