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rsventhesecondd · 3 days ago

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no nut november, ᓫ(°⌑°)ǃ

╰ • → Featuring . Hayato Suo as your boyfriend ! ╯

☁️┆ ⤿ collab with @secretlyzlenza ༺ ╰ ღ WBK : requests open ╯🦢

warnings . fluff , nsfw , piv , fingering , pet names , slight use of cuss words , not proof read YET , all characters used aged up. Slightly cliché ? note ⧽some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't our first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes. (๑°⌓°๑)

Hayato Suo ˓ would actually last the whole month if he were to take this challenge seriously. And— if you weren't taunting teasing him in the most absurd ways.

"Oh? and what would I get in return by doing this.. challenge?" Suo says with his signature smile.

" Anything you want! " You said, smiling back.

"Really?" He says, tilting his head slightly to the side. — " Yes! As long as it is within my powers. And, the challenge applies to me too, of course. " you added with confidence .

───────── →

act one, aphrodisiac !

You woke up extra early to be able to prepare breakfast this time, only to be greeted by the sight of Suo missing from your bed side. 'what the fuck?'

You stand up from your beside, groggily walking towards the kitchen— and there stands Suo, cooking breakfast like the loving boyfriend that he is. "Breakfast is ready, dove." he says with a smile, placing a plate with your favorite dish on the table in front of you. " Thank you Hayato! " , you said as your grogginess began to disappear. " But what about you? " You questioned, while he sat down watching you eat as he sips a cup of tea.

"Oh, no thanks. I'm—" he says, waving his hand; before you cut him off. " On a diet. Yeah yeah, I know. " You retorted while playfully rolling your eyes as you Continued to eat.

You steal quick glances at him as he reads a book, trying not to be noticed. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the food, my love?" He asked in a worried tone, which of course you quickly responded to. " What? No-no, it taste really good! " You replied in a panicked state , " It's just, I was wondering if you were feeling something different, like maybe lightheaded? "

"Oh? Not really, why would I?" He questioned.

" Nothing, I was just wondering since colds are popular right now, and I saw an article stating that some teas are.. contaminated " in which he nodded in response."Don't worry, I'm not really the type of person to get sick at all, or get affected by such things. Even if something is in my tea. " he assured.

'what the fuck' was what you were thinking at the moment, and for the rest of the day aswell. You literally put 10 doses of aphrodisiacs in his tea kettle the night before incase he woke up before you. Yet, how the hell is he acting like everything's normal the whole day? Maybe he wasn't really lying about the whole spiritual thing in his other eye after all.. Whatever, you'll get him next time!

───────── →

act two, distraction !

" Hayato, what'd you think? Do you think it suits me? " You said, wearing a two piece for the supposed 'pool party' that was coming up. (It was scheduled next January, during NEW YEAR.)

"Why, I think it looks lovely, my love." He said with a smile before excusing himself for his daily meditation. Again, acting like everything was normal.

You groan in frustration as you sat down your beside, running out of ideas. The day was ending, and you tried everything— You sat on his lap while he was reading a book, claiming it was more 'comfortable' , you acted undeniably more touchy than usual, hell— you even woke up early on PURPOSE. You let out a gruff before scrolling through your phone to ease up yourself a little, seeing Suo lay down beside you, doing the usual, reading a book.

After a while, with you giving up, he slowly crept up to you, leaning in for a kiss— 'I knew it, there was no way he would resist me. He just loves me too much' You thought to yourself confidently as your lips tugged slightly to a smile, closing your eyes to prepare for a kiss. Or, so you thought.

he shut the lamp.

He was reaching for the LAMP.

At this point, you wish you'd never introduced him to the challenge in the first place. On the bright side, he probably didn't notice you puckering up your lips in the air, right? Right...

Looking back, you swore you saw a smirk plastered on his lips.

───────── →

act three, forbidden candy !

You tried everything— at this point you're convinced that he's been drinking some tea that cuts off his libido. ( lust )

Well, at the very least; you could atleast ask for a kiss. You've been so touch deprived, and he showed no signs of losing the challenge. You wouldn't want to lose aswell, but a kiss wouldn't hurt, right?

You waited for Suo to come inside your shared bedroom, and after awhile he did. " Hey, Hayato.. "

"Yes, my love?" He said with a smile. " Kiss me. " You responded, swallowing your embarrassment.

"Oh, but wouldn't that be against the rules?" He then asked, his head tilting slightly to the side. " No, it isn't. And it's not like it's gonna turn into a whole make out session. " You reasoned.

" Hm, okay. Come along then. " He says, patting to the spot closer to him. You went along, as you went closer to him, looking him in the eye as your lips touched.

You melt into the kiss, your tongue missing his. But sadly, you could not allow such thing in terms of the conditions you promised that you would meet.

You pulled away ever so slightly, eyes starting to dim. But what could you do? Nothing but resist your temptations within. "Would you mind kissing me again, my love? Perhaps using our tongues wouldn't be against the rules." He says, voice laced with honey. But who are you to disagree? He was asking so nicely.

You nodded, quickly rushing in. His tongue swiftly moving against yours in a smooth rhythm that could heal any person from within. As he kisses you, he reached out to get something, opened, aswell.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless. He then pops something in his mouth as he suddenly kissed you once again, forcefully letting you eat some type of thing. You swallowed it subconsciously, " What the fuck? " You muttered out as your surroundings started to blur.

" Hayato, what the fuck did you feed me. " You said, breathing getting heavier as your body started heating up.

Cute. Suo thought to himself.

If only you knew that what he fed you was actually just plain rock candy.

───────── →

act four, main course ! final

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

You rutted against Suo's cock, " Hayato.. please? "

"Please what, pretty girl?" He questions, a glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this.

" fuck me. Please? " You begged, tears beginning to well up your eyes. You were so.. frustrated. You tried so hard to make him lose the challenge, when it was you begging him to fuck you in the end.

"Oh my, I can't do that. That would mean I'd lose the challenge if I do." He says, his lips twitching; Trying hard not to creep up to a grin.

" Fuck, I lose. I lose, okay? I'll do the work if that's what you want. " You said, unzipping his pants.

"Very well then, go on, pretty." He says, helping you remove his pants. You remove his remaining garments, looking at his cock. It's so pretty, flushed pink and curved up slightly to the side with a huge vein along with it. You traced your finger around the vein, causing him to shiver. Slowly making your way as you placed his tip inside your mouth, tracing the vein that was surround his cock. Causing him to lay his head back. " You're still sensitive here, hm? " You teased before taking him whole, gagging, almost. His hand made it's way to your hair, caressing it lightly. He was never really a type of person to gag you so roughly. You bobbed your head up and down, earning a soft groan from him.

"How embarrassing, I'm the only one naked. I must admit, I— hah.. Missed your touch, my love." He added, precum leaking from his cock as you gave his slit a few kitty licks.

You undress yourself, aligning yourself with his cock. As much as Suo wants seeing you in control, or atleast try to, before you could push the head of his cock into you, he swiftly changed your positions. " W-What are you doing? I was gonna— " You said, cut off by a finger inside of you, earning a small moan. "Now now, don't be so angry. You can't just get anything you want all so sudden, my love." He said, adding a finger, stretching you out. "Not when you've been such a bad girl." He says, pushing his fingers in and out, curling them the right amount. " Fuck– Hayato.. " You moaned out, turning your head back from the stimulation. "Right, I almost lost thought." Hayato said, quickly replacing his fingers with his cock instead— causing you to let out a choked moan. "I'm offended." he continued. "You really thought I wouldn't notice that you put something in my tea back then?" He says, moving his hips onto a different angle. An angle it would hit all the right spots. "Do answer, love" He says with an innocent smile, as if he wasn't just re-arranging your organs. And even if you did try to answer, you just couldn't. All you could say at that moment was endless moans and whimpers following each thrust he was giving at such pace. "You know, I find it really cute how you were so confident that you would win this.. 'challenge' of yours, " he spoke, breathing getting heavier. "Trying all sorts of absurd ways to get my attention. When in the end, it's you begging me to come and soothe your desires" He added, kissing your tears away. "You're still sensitive here, hm?" He teased, fastening the pace.

"Fuck— Haya, 'm gonna cum!" You whimpered out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay. Cum for me, my precious." He coed, groaning as you reached your climaxed, following his.

"Now now, don't tell me you're out cold, love?" He teased. "Lets go for another round."

note . the reason he didn't let you ride was because he was worried that it'd hurt you too much not to get prepped since you guys haven't done it for nearly a month. (´·ω·)ﾉ(._.`)

ravens note . hi! Actually, don't believe @secretlyzlenza I literally did all the work guys theyre so fake. 😒 Cancel them!!! Joke. All they said was that it was no nut Nov and I got an idea from it and they demanded me to add creds/hj🙄 anyways, thats all!

— sincerely, raven !

#x reader #hayato suo smut #wind breaker #wbk #wbk manga #wbk x reader #angst with a happy ending #wbk smut #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato #no nut november #nnn #no nut November smut

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vvampirelust · 13 hours ago

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PLSPLSPLS I NEED SOME MORE READER X ELLIE X SHANE

of course baby girl xx

warnings: smut, the plot was plotting omg, fingering (e and r receiving), oral (e!receiving), jealous shane?? 🫢 not proof read as always xx

part one here

“CUT“

The lights are blaring as the studio returns to normal. You laugh awkwardly with your co-star as you are finally able to detach from the intimate position you’ve both been in. “I think that’s the one, guys” the director announces after what felt like 50 takes of the borderline wild sex scene you’ve been filming, “Great job, you two. Seriously.”

You sneak a glance over at Ellie whilst slipping on your robe. She’s staring intensely over the directors shoulder, watching the playback. It sets off butterflies in your stomach, the way she’s so infatuated with you. Her face bright red and throat bobbing, as if she’d never seen you in that way before. You’re doing your best to conceal the grin threatening to come to life.

“Hey, Els,” you chirp, passing by, “Walk with me?”

The trailer wasn’t far, thankfully. Taking her hand in yours once you were out of sight. Knowing it would make her nervous. “So you liked the show, huh?” you joke, watching as she drops her chin in a huff. “Shut up.”

Ever since that night, you’d been seeing her more often. Shane too, of course, but that was mostly for sex. Not that you didn’t love that time with Ellie, it just felt like it always meant more to her. That she seen you for more.

Once inside, you begin fixing a drink for each other. Beer, as fancy as it sounded. “You know,” you start, popping off the lid, “Seeing you watching me like that, it uh, kinda turned me on.”

“Oh really?” She takes the bottle, fingers lingering as they brush yours yet again. After a swig, she continues, “Tell me more.” You take a step closer, humming as you faux think, bringing a hand up to brush her bangs back. Leaning in, you whisper in her ear, “I was thinking about you…yano, when i was,” you cut yourself off, taking her ear between her teeth.

“Fuck,” Ellie sighs, rolling her head back. Her palm gently finds your waist, walking you backwards ever so slowly. A sharp gasp leaving you when your back hits the edge of the table. Ellie sets her beer dow, stealing your own next. The subtle clank of the bottle sending a shiver up your spine. “Well, we could turn that into a reality.”

You waist no time in kissing her. Feeling Ellie’s plump, chapped lips slotting between your own. Ellie moans, letting you take the lead. Your hands slide to cup the sides of her face, planting kiss after kiss to her sweet lips. You want her so bad, to make her feel as good as she always does to you.

Ellie’s panting when you pull away, attempting to chase after you. “Uh-uh.” Keeping your eyes on her face, Ellie keeps close watch as your fingers trail down to the knot keeping your robe in place. You almost coo at the way Ellie gulps. She’s so cute, you think. “Want me to take it off, baby?”

“Please,” she blurts almost immediately.

And with a smirk, you do. You let the fluffy white robe drop from your shoulders, fabric sliding over your skin almost sensually.

Black lace adorns your body, lingerie from your scene not so long ago. Tight bra holding your breasts perfectly, pushing them up in a way that has Ellie near drooling. Matching garter wrapping around your waist, securing your pretty lace stockings. Ellie doesn’t know where to look, pretty eyes trailing up and down your body. There’s a change in the way she breathes, as if the air was becoming thinner.

“You’re so beautiful,” she swoons, hands finding your waist, needing to feel you against her skin. You smile, always feeling so adored in her presence. All you want is to show her the same. Your own hands finding purchase on her slender shoulders. “You’re so beautiful, Els,” your voice is sickly sweet, “Let me show you.”

It’s why you now have Ellie beneath you on the couch. Straddling her now bare thighs as you swing your hair over to one shoulder. Knowing exactly what you’re doing to her. “Baby, you’re killing me,” Ellie near whines, head dropping back. You laugh teasingly, whispering “I know,” as your lips brush against the sensitive and exposed skin of her neck. Taking the opportunity to litter her with kisses and nips of your teeth, feeling the way she squirms in response.

You don’t have the strength to stop there, leaving a trail of wet kisses in your wake as your lips move lower and lower. Pushing the strap of her bra aside, Ellie’s fingers bury in your hair, soft sounds puffing past her lips. You push lower, exposing her perky tits, nipples already hard and begging. You can’t help but moan at the sight, letting your tongue swirl around her hardened peak. Ellie arches into you.

And that’s when you both heard the door, “Well well well.”

The voice is familiar, you don’t even need to look to know who had shown up unannounced. Ellie however releases a sigh of relief, confirming your suspicions, “It’s Shane.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Shane announces, there’s a hint of a scoff in her voice. This time you do look over your shoulder, her arms are crossed as she leans against the wall of your trailer. You can’t read her expression, yet her eyes are trained on you perched atop Ellie, head tilting ever so slightly. “Gonna fuck her or what, babe? Go on.” It sets off a spark in your tummy, that she wants to watch.

Feeling a new wave of confidence, both women appearing to enjoy you putting on a show, you drop down to the floor at Ellie’s feet. Kneeling between her parted legs, your hands softly trailing along her thighs. They tremble beneath your touch as you near the place she wants you the most.

You moan once her boxers are hanging from a single ankle. Ellie’s wet, wanting cunt a sight for sore eyes. You can hear her ragged breath ringing in your ears, she clenches and your eyes follow the dribble of slick which pours from her. You can’t wait any longer.

Ellie groans out loudly, finally feeling your warm tongue delving through her folds. Her hands fist at her sides, the unbearable need soothing at last. You can’t get enough of her taste, humming into her pussy as you lap at her sweet slick, nudging your face closer than possible, no care in the world for the mess you both make. You paw at her thighs with force, silently communicating how much you love having your mouth on her.

“Fuck,” Shane mutters, Ellie whimpering in response. You sneak a glance up at her face, mouth agape and cheeks flushed, those pretty eyes of hers on the woman standing behind you. It causes your cunt to clench, the erotic nature of the situation at hand turning you on more than ever.

With a suck to her puffy clit, those eyes are back on you, a mewl tumbling past her lips. Ellie calls your name, thighs tightening around your head, keeping you in place. Not that you’d rather be anywhere else. Your tongue toys with her clit, circling in a way that has Ellie arching off the couch as she moans, sounds catching in her throat when you hit a spot that has her feeling euphoric.

A sudden heat at your back has you flinching slightly, Shane’s cool hand sliding to your waist to shush you. “I think she likes that,” she chuckles, giving your side a squeeze.

“Mhm!” Ellie whines, beginning to grind against your face, fucking herself on your tongue. You can’t enough of her. Her scent, her taste, her warmth, the feeling of her soft pussy pushing on your tongue. Everything about her. You’re moaning as if it was your own cunt being ate.

“Gonna make her cum, baby?” Shane rasps, palm now slowly running up your back, “Yeah, you are.” She slides her hand into your hair, gripping the back of your head as she forces your face further into Ellie’s cunt. Whose pitiful moan in response is music to your ears, morphing with the heavy breaths falling from Shane. Each puff hot on your back. She leans down, planting light kisses to your bare skin, urging you on.

Ellie shakes when she cums, barely able to make a sound as the feeling takes over. You watch her face contort into complete pleasure, an image that will be imprinted in your mind forever. The defined crease between her eyebrows almost adorable despite what you were doing to her. She’s gushing on your tongue and still you make no move to stop, letting her ride out her high until it’s too much.

And then Shane’s hand in around your throat, tugging you back against her chest. Your head falls back on her shoulder, blinking up at her as you catch your breath. “Good girl,” She praises, so simply getting you under her spell. She knows this and smirks. Her free hand rises to your face, thumb smearing the mix of Ellie’s slick and your spit over your lips.

“No invite for me, hm?” Shane was jealous. That was obvious to you now, it was side you would never have expected from her. As you go to respond, the hold on your neck tightens, she doesn’t want you to answer that. You sneak a glance at Ellie, still droopy from her recent orgasm. “Hey.” Shane steals your attention once again, “S’okay.” You’re unsure if she means it.

“You look so pretty in this getup,” Shane hums, hand leaving your face to trail down your body. Taking the time to trace the lingerie decorating your figure, stopping only when the tip of her finger dips ever so slightly beneath the waistline of your panties. Shane dips down, kissing the side of your neck passionately, sucking on your skin, she was gonna leave a mark. Part of you knew she was doing it on purpose, an attempt to stake claim. “Keep going,” She whispers, gently pushing you back between Ellie’s legs.

Shane’s hand fully dips into your underwear as you lay your head down on Ellie’s thigh, her fingers skimming through your soaked folds and wasting no time sinking her fingers into you.

Your teeth sink into Ellie’s flesh to muffle the moan dragged from your throat, she whimpers loudly from the pleasurable pain. You’re winding your hips down, meeting every thrust from Shane. Her fingers are so deep inside you, gliding against your walls, the sound of your wetness filling the room. You can feel her smiling smugly against your shoulder before she plants a kiss, free hand giving a light slap to your ass, reminding you to stop neglecting poor Ellie.

You skim your own fingers up along Ellie’s thigh, dragging close to her cunt. Your eyes flick to meet hers, she’s staring right back at you, eyes glossy and hooded. Keeping them there as you slide your fingertips up and down the length of her cunt, watching as she gasps and flinches from how sensitive she is.

You start with one, staring at one another in such overwhelming pleasure, you’re sure if you were shown a side by side of your faces, your expressions would be identical. Lips parted as soft sighs fall, eyes seemingly so innocent as you both beg for the pleasure to continue.

Shane’s fingers curl inside you and you whine, bucking into her hand. Ellie strokes your hair, nodding to you, she knows. You slip in a second finger, fastening your pace, Ellie’s head falls back against the couch as she basks in your touch.

Turning your head, you seek for Shane, whimpering out her name. She fucks you faster, harder, leaning forward to press her forehead against your own. “Please,” You mewl, unknowing of what you’re even begging for. Shane captures your lips, letting you release every sound into her mouth, her tongue sweeps in, having missed the way you taste.

The connection urges you to fuck Ellie with more passion, matching Shane’s rhythm. You can feel her clenching around your fingers, hear the way her moans rise. You know exactly how she’s feeling, Shane bringing you closer and closer to the high that’s been building ever since you first put your mouth on Ellie’s cunt.

You whimper into Shane’s mouth, feeling her hum in response, she knows. And squishes another third finger into your cunt, you gasp and she grins against your mouth, whispering, “Cum for me.”

You want Ellie to slip over that line with you, and with another few pumps of yours and Shane’s fingers, you’re both letting go. Hard. Your shared whines echo, almost in tandem. Shane’s kissing along your jaw, your neck, soothing you as you release, soaking her fingers, clenching so tight she keeps them snug within you. The pads of her fingers pressing rhythmically against that spot, hurtling you into overstimulation.

Ellie’s fingers tighten in your hair, legs shutting around your hand, hips raising off the couch. You don’t stop until she’s grabbing at your wrist, murmuring “Too much, too much” through high pitched gasps.

Shane slips her hand out of your panties, leaving you cold on the floor as she gets up and plops herself down on the couch beside Ellie. She brings up her fingers to Ellie’s mouth, pushing them inside so the freckled brunette could get a taste of you. Her eyes flutter as she moans around Shane’s digits, the sight downright erotic in your eyes. Shane’s mouth is wide in a grin, watching Ellie suck your juices off her fingers.

She pulls them out slowly, and the pair both look down at you. Ellie, fucked out and panting for air. Shane’s eyes hooded with lust. This was gonna be a long night…

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 days ago

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How to Use Absurdist Humor

I will often excuse away the “worst” of Marinette’s behavior with a very dismissive, “It’s an obvious joke, so there’s no point taking this as a serious character beat. Let’s not waste our time here.”

While I stand by that statement, I can see why some people struggle with this approach. Miraculous has made the unfortunate choice to tie the humor to parts of the narrative that have actual meaning to the audience. This undercuts the power of the humor, making it hard for some people to separate the humor from the actual character beats, so let’s step back and look at a show that did this right to show what I mean.

That’s right, folks, it’s time for more gushing about Kim Possible!

For today’s case study, we'll start with episode 17 of season one: The Twin Factor. In this episode, Kim is stuck babysitting her little brothers while on a mission to stop her arch nemesis. You may be thinking that Kim's "flaw" in this episode is the fact that she brings two 10-year-olds on a dangerous mission.

You would be wrong.

This is the lead-in to Kim bringing the twins along:

Kim: Er, speaking of forgetting, I totally spaced on the baby-sitting. Mrs. Dr. Possible: Kimmy, you made a commitment. Kim: Two commitments, actually. I'm suppose to go on a mission today. Mr. Dr. Possible: You'll just have to take the boys. Kim: Mom, can you please tell Dad that's a bad idea? Mrs. Dr. Possible: Oh, Kimmy. I'm sure Jim and Tim would love to visit a secret lab with you.

This is how you do absurdist humor. Is this technically horrible parenting? Yes, but there is no way that anyone is taking this seriously. It’s just so over the top that anyone trying to criticize the Possible’s behavior comes across as completely missing the point.

The other important factor is that Kim’s parents are played as genuinely loving and supportive parents, just in a really absurd way. This is a very natural bit of loving family dialogue about a totally ridiculous version of a normal family conflict. None of these three characters show off flaws that we expect to see address here save for their complete lack of concern about Kim’s life-risking adventures.

If Kim’s parents were shown to be genuinely neglectful or if Kim’s adventures were played more seriously, then this humor wouldn’t work anywhere near as well as it does. It would still be an obvious joke, but it would stumble the landing if you knew that the episode would go on to see Jim and Tim die. (They don’t, btw. The absurdist humor carries on, I’m just giving an extreme example of a plot beat that would kill – or at least weaken – this humor.)

Another example of Kim Possible doing absurdist humor right comes from the next episode in season one: Animal Attraction. In this episode, Kim is up against Senior Senior Senior, an eccentric billionaire who pursues villainy as a hobby, leading to exchanges like this one between him and his son:

Jr.: Did we not leave Kim Possible on a conveyor belt to her doom? Sr.: Yes. A proper villain always leaves his foe when he's about to expire. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Well, it would be bad form just to lull about, waiting for it. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Tradition!

This episode has a lot of moments like this. Moments where Jr asks why they don't do the obvious, more easy/effective thing and his father blows him off because that's not how villains do things! It's totally illogical logic and it's great. I love it! Perfect example of absurdist villains and a great way to keep the show from getting too serious. The writers never wanted you to feel like Kim was in over her head.

If you look at these two examples and compare them to Miraculous, you'll notice a big difference. While Miraculous does occasionally pull off good absurdist humor, a lot of the absurdist humor is more questionable because it's tied to the show's central conflicts.

As an example, let's talk about Marinette's inability to confess to Adrien and all the nonsense tied to that. Her many failures and attempts to know him better are clearly jokes, but they have this serious edge because the show has not set up the love square as nothing more than a source of humor. This is our end game couple. The audience expects to see their romance developed. The longer the show goes on without doing that and the more absurd Marinette's attempts get, the less the comedy works.

Another good example is Lila's lies. There is a solid argument to be made that the writers are trying to be funny with Lila's extremely obvious lies, but it doesn't work because the lies are a source of serious conflict. Lila is working with the villain! She gets Marinette expelled! We want to see her outed! Every obvious lie she tells just grates on our nerves because this is not the time for jokes!

To be fair, you can use absurdist humor in more serious shows. Another of my personal favorites is The Good Place, which relies heavily on absurdist humor, but has a very serious and heartfelt overall plot. The humor works there because the show knew when to use the humor and when to be serious and also because The Good Place is not a formula show. It's a serialized show. One big story told in 20-minute chunks. This meant that the humor had more room to breath and could be more closely tied to serious conflicts. When every story has to stand alone and be finished in 20-minutes, that blending rarely ever works. You're trying to do too much.

Kim Possible's writers knew this, too. The two tie-in movies (Kim Possible: A Sitch in Time and So the Drama) are still comedies, but they both have far more serious tones because they had the time to do that. While the episodes run about 20 minutes, both movies run a little over and hour which meant they could be more serious than in a standard episode.

So why did I write all that up? Because I was watching Kim Possible and thinking about how much better the humor generally was and I suddenly realized how easy it would be to be confused by Miraculous' humor if you didn't have this kind of background. I've seen enough absurdist humor to identify it with ease and even I struggle with Miraculous at times. Like I'm still not sure if Lila's lies are supposed to be a joke or not.

If you're new to absurdist humor or struggle to interpret less overt humor? Then I can see how you'd take Miraculous way more seriously than the writers intended because a lot of the absurdist humor simply isn't absurd enough. That doesn't change the fact that it's humor and I'm still going to treat it as such, but I can see why it goes right over some people's heads and leads to complaints like, "Marinette has his schedule for the next three years!!!" That was a joke, but I get why you're missing it.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #kim possible #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #writing advice #This was mostly an excuse for me to appreciate how well written KP's humor was #But I figured we'd take a writing lesson angle with it since I get comments about this stuff from time and time #And I don't know what to say because I don't know how to respond if you are treating bad jokes as serious character flaws #Adrien and Marinette have real flaws too it's just that people are so overly focused on the bad jokes that I just *sigh*

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emjayewrites · 13 hours ago

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in between the lines • jules kounde (1/4)

SYNOPSIS: At Zuri’s engagement party, Senait meets her best friend’s fiancé, Aurélien, and his friend, Jules. A spontaneous hookup with Jules sparks undeniable chemistry, but when Senait ghosts him afterward, she finds herself wrestling with her insecurities as the casual fling begins shifting into something deeper.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Senait Kiros (@/subanbrn)

WARNINGS: football b.s., cursing, smut, drama, mentions of cheating/past relationships, dominant!jules. MINORS DNI (18+)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @essaysbyciara @saturnville @trentswrld @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu @tchouathon @greyishbach @shelovesfootie @certifiedlesbianbaddie @trinitoldyouso @greedyjudge2 @elyseesarchive

A/N: This is the last 'book' of the "football baes universe". Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. Gif by @doinggreat

Senait arrived at the engagement party with a mix of excitement and nerves. It had been a month since she'd last seen Zuri, and the thought of catching up brought a genuine smile to her face. As she stepped into La Quinta de Jarama, the boho-chic venue adorned with traditional Bamileke décor, warm tones of earthy reds, yellows, and browns enveloped her, showcasing Zuri's style perfectly.

If Pinterest threw up an engagement party, this would be it, Senait thought.

Before she could fully take in the scene, Zuri spotted her and rushed over, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"Senait!" Zuri's voice was filled with joy, making Senait feel lighter.

"Girl, look at you," Senait teased, pulling back to assess Zuri's radiant outfit. "Fiancé life looks good on you."

Zuri laughed, her happiness infectious. "You're one to talk. Madrid clearly agrees with you."

"It really does," Senait said, smirking as she ran a hand through her curls. "But seriously, it's been too long. I almost forgot what your face looked like."

Zuri rolled her eyes playfully. "Trust me, it's been a whirlwind."

"And now, you're engaged to some guy," Senait teased, glancing around the room. "Where is he?"

"Come on, I'll introduce you," Zuri said, leading the way.

It didn't take long to spot him. Aurélien stood out, not just because of his height and broad shoulders, but because of the calm authority he carried. His traditional Bamileke attire made him look like royalty, the intricate patterns complementing his deep brown skin. There was an ease to the way he held himself, as if he was used to commanding attention without asking for it. His smile when he saw Zuri approach was genuine, and it softened his otherwise sharp features.

"Guys, this is my best friend, Senait," Zuri said, beaming. "Senait, this is Aurélien and his friend Jules."

Senait's gaze shifted to Jules, taking in his athletic build and easy posture. There was an unmistakable grace to his movements, even when standing still. His warm brown eyes held a hint of amusement, and when he spoke, his French accent added a layer of intrigue to his words.

"Enchanté," Jules said, his voice a low, pleasant rumble. There was an undeniable charisma about him, a quiet confidence that caught Senait's attention.

Senait, quickly regaining her composure, turned to Aurélien. "So you're the one who's stolen my Zuri away," she said, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"Guilty as charged," Aurélien replied, a flicker of self-consciousness crossing his face under her scrutiny.

Before the conversation could continue, the sound of drums filled the air. A group of traditional Bamileke dancers emerged, their colorful costumes a blur of motion as they moved to the rhythmic beat.

Zuri and Aurélien walked through the crowd behind the dancers, their eyes sparkling with excitement. An elder approached them, wrapping their wrists together with some decorative rope—a symbolic gesture that sent a ripple of joy through the onlookers.

Senait stood back, watching the scene unfold, when she felt Jules beside her. His presence was solid, grounding. "So, what do you think of the party?" he said, his accented voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

She offered him a sidelong glance, intrigued despite herself. "It's vibrant," she replied, her gaze still fixed on Zuri and Aurélien. "Definitely fits Zuri's style."

"And what about you?" Jules asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "Is this your style?"

"Please," Senait shot back, her sass evident. "But I'll give credit where it's due. This party is pretty nice."

As the ceremony concluded, the music shifted to a blend of traditional Bamileke rhythms and contemporary beats. Couples began to fill the dance floor, Zuri and Aurélien at the center, laughing as they danced.

Jules turned to Senait, his posture relaxed but purposeful. "Dance with me," he said. It wasn't a question, but neither was it a demand. It was a statement, confident and unhurried.

Senait hesitated, caught off guard by his directness. For a moment, she considered declining, but something—perhaps the magic of the night, or the quiet intensity radiating from Jules—made her reconsider.

"Alright," she said, surprising herself. "But don't expect me to be impressed by any fancy footwork."

A ghost of a smile played on Jules' lips as he guided her to the dance floor, his hand a gentle presence on her lower back. As they began to move to the music, Senait found herself appreciating his natural grace and the way he led without being overbearing.

"You know," she said, unable to resist, "I usually require at least dinner before I dance with a guy I've just met."

Jules chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Then consider this an appetizer," he replied, his accent wrapping around the words in a way that Senait found unexpectedly charming.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, curious now. "An appetizer?" she repeated, her brow lifting slightly in mock skepticism. “I usually have a say in what’s on the menu."

Jules smirked, his fingers brushing a little lower on her back, just enough to make her aware of it. “I’ll take suggestions, then.”

His voice was smooth, unhurried. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he let the moment stretch without feeling the need to fill it with more words, that made Senait feel… at ease. In control, but not entirely. It was an interesting push and pull, and she found herself leaning into it more than she thought she would.

As the song continued, she let her eyes wander over him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the hint of stubble on his chin, and the quiet intensity in his eyes. There was something about him—something that was drawing her in without her fully realizing it. He wasn’t overbearing, wasn’t rushing, but the attraction was there, simmering just under the surface.

He caught her looking and smirked, just enough to let her know he noticed, but not enough to make it awkward. “I get the feeling you don’t do this often.”

“I don’t,” she admitted, tilting her head as if considering him. “But you’re making it hard to resist.”

He leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Good. I’m not here to rush you. Just enjoying the moment.”

There it was again—his calm, unhurried confidence, the way he made it feel like this was just a natural flow. She could sense his attraction to her in the small, unspoken cues: the way his fingers subtly tightened around her waist, the way he mirrored her movements without overshadowing them. He was giving her room to play, and the more she danced with him, the more she liked the way he let her set the pace.

And, if she was being honest, the longer they stayed pressed together like this, the more her thoughts began to shift. She hadn’t come to the party thinking about anyone—least of all hooking up with someone. But Jules was… intriguing. Sexy, in a quiet way. His energy was just different, and that difference was starting to get to her.

Her mind flickered briefly to the idea of what it would be like later, when the music stopped and the space between them closed. She wasn’t against it—the casual hookup, the fun of it. She just hadn’t planned on it tonight. Yet, with the way his body moved so seamlessly with hers, it was hard not to imagine how good it could feel to let herself indulge in him.

Jules seemed to pick up on the shift in her thoughts, but, true to form, he didn’t push. He kept the same steady, self-assured energy, his eyes never leaving hers. His presence was like a quiet challenge, letting her know he was here if she wanted, but he wouldn’t be the one to say it first.

Senait bit her lip, feeling the weight of the moment settle in between them. She didn’t need to say anything.

As the music shifted to an upbeat Afrobeats track, the atmosphere transformed. The infectious rhythm filled the air, drawing people in, and Senait felt herself responding to the beat instinctively. She turned to Jules, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.

Without thinking, she pressed her body against him, swaying her hips in time with the music in a slow whine. Jules’s eyes widened slightly, a spark igniting in his gaze as he adjusted to her new boldness. His hands found her waist again, but this time, he let her lead, mirroring her movements, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for this.

“You’ve got some moves,” he said, his voice low, laced with amusement as he followed her rhythm.

“Maybe you just bring it out of me,” she teased, glancing back over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes.

“I’m not complaining,” he replied, his smirk growing. There was something about the way he watched her—intently, with a hint of challenge—as if daring her to take it even further.

The heat between them intensified as she moved, her body brushing against him, a grind that sent shivers through her. She could feel the tension in his grip, the way he held her close but left just enough space for her to take charge. It was intoxicating, the freedom to explore without pressure.

Senait turned slightly, catching his gaze again, and the world around them seemed to fade away. “So, what’s next?” she asked, her voice playful, as if they were in on a secret.

Jules leaned in, his lips nearly brushing her ear, his breath warm and inviting. “That depends on you. I’m just here for the ride.”

With that, she tilted her head back, feeling emboldened. The air around them pulsed with energy, and for a fleeting moment, the possibilities stretched out before her. She could indulge in the thrill of this connection, let herself be swept away in the music and the heat between them.

“Then let’s see how far this ride goes,” she replied, her words a silent promise as she led him off the dance floor.

Senait took his hand, threading them both through the crowd as a pulse of adrenaline buzzed through her veins. The party around them felt like a blur—glamorous guests, laughter, the warm hum of celebration—but she only had eyes for Jules. They slipped into a quiet hallway near the restrooms, and before she could talk herself out of it, she tugged him into the nearest one, the door clicking shut behind them.

Her back hit the door, and she exhaled, half laughing at her own recklessness, half consumed by the anticipation simmering between them. “This is crazy,” she whispered, her voice hushed but thrilled. “Hooking up at my best friend’s engagement party with a stranger.”

Jules’s hands found her waist, and his lips curved into that lazy, self-assured smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, it is,” he murmured, leaning in, his breath warm against her skin. “But you’re still here.”

Before she could come up with a witty response, he kissed her, and the world seemed to tilt. His mouth was warm, hungry, and she melted into him, every inch of her body attuned to the way he pressed against her. She reached up, fingers tangling in his locs as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer.

God, it had been so long since she felt like this—desired, wanted. Her ex had a way of making her feel small, crushing her confidence piece by piece with infidelity and careless words. But here, now, with Jules… she felt different. Powerful. Desired. It was a high she didn’t want to come down from.

Jules’s hands roamed over her hips, slipping under the hem of her dress. His touch was firm but reverent, making her shiver as he pushed the fabric higher. When his fingers brushed over her panties, he groaned into her mouth when he felt the dampness there. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice thick with want. “You’re so wet.”

Her heart stuttered, and she arched into him, wanting more, needing more. His fingers teased her, making her gasp as he explored the heat between her legs. She could feel herself losing control, her head spinning from his touch, but he pulled back slightly, just enough to leave her breathless.

His forehead rested against hers, and he exhaled a shaky laugh. “We should probably save this for later,” he said, though the regret in his voice told her just how badly he wanted to keep going. “Before I forget we’re still at a party.”

Senait’s lips curled into a smirk, but her cheeks were flushed, and her body was still buzzing with electricity. “You’re right,” she breathed, trying to catch her breath. “But you owe me.”

His thumb brushed across her lower lip, his gaze heated. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

They straightened themselves out, laughter spilling between them as they tried to look less disheveled before heading back out. The noise of the party hit them again, and Senait immediately grabbed a drink from a passing caterer’s tray, downing two shots of tequila in quick succession to steady herself. A flicker of doubt threatened to creep in, but she swallowed it down, reminding herself she deserved this—a night of fun, of feeling wanted.

She glanced over at Jules, who had joined Aurélien and Zuri as they opened engagement gifts. Zuri was radiant, glowing with happiness, and Senait felt a twinge of guilt for sneaking away during such a special moment. But then she reminded herself: Zuri would understand. Maybe even laugh about it later.

Jules caught her gaze, his eyes warm and inviting, and she felt her pulse quicken again. Gathering her courage, she walked over, reaching for his hand. But just as she was about to pull him onto the dance floor, an announcement rang out, signaling the start of the farewell ceremony.

Jules leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “Ready to get out of here?” he murmured, the question sending a thrill straight through her.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

With one last look at her friend, she followed Jules out, the promise of whatever came next leaving her feeling more alive than she had in ages.

Senait and Jules slipped into the back of the Uber, and the car pulled away from the venue, the city lights blurring as anticipation curled between them. The silence crackled, thick with the energy of what they had started back at the party, but they didn’t need words. Jules kept her hand in his, his thumb brushing circles over her knuckles, and every stroke sent little sparks along her skin.

By the time they arrived at his hotel, the tension had built to an unbearable crescendo. He led her through the lobby, the cool air of the space doing nothing to soothe the heat pulsing through her. His suite door barely clicked shut before he spun her around, pressing her back against the wall.

“Where were we?” Jules murmured, his voice husky, eyes dark and wanting.

Before she could answer, his lips claimed hers, and she melted. His fingers slid beneath the fabric of her dress, tugging it up and over her head in one smooth motion. He stepped back, drinking her in, and she felt the weight of his gaze, how mesmerized he was by her body. It seemed crazy—insane—that someone like him could look at her that way, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable.

“Damn,” he whispered, reverence thick in his voice. His hands found her breasts, caressing the soft curves before sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her flush against him to help her ease out of her thong.

A shiver ran through her, and she reached for his shirt, eager to even the playing field, but he caught her wrists, playfully swatting her hands away. “Nah,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You don’t get to do all that shit here. I’m the boss tonight.”

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal surging through her, and she felt herself getting wetter, if that was even possible. He guided her to the bed, laying her down gently, and she surrendered to the way he looked at her—like he was savoring every inch.

He took his time, kissing a path down her neck, over her collarbone, and lower, until he was between her thighs. Her breath caught as his tongue found her clit, teasing and circling with expert precision. Her back arched, a moan slipping from her lips as he sucked, licked, and explored, driving her wild with pleasure. Every touch was a new kind of bliss, his name tumbling from her mouth as she lost herself in the rhythm he set.

When she was on the edge, trembling with need, Jules pulled back, leaving her gasping, and quickly undressed. He reached for his suitcase, rummaging for a condom. Tearing the packet open, he rolled it on, his gaze never leaving hers. Senait smiled appreciatively at his thick length and the muscled planes of his athletic body.

He went back to the bed and hovered over her, his voice dropping into that low, sexy timbre. “Ready?” he asked, and she nodded, her body aching for him.

With one swift, smooth motion, he entered her, filling her completely. She clung to him, overwhelmed by the sensation, and he began to move, rocking into her with a perfect, relentless rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Tu te sens si bien. So perfect.”

Her nails scraped down his back, and he groaned, the sound sending shivers across her skin. “Keep talking,” she managed to say, her own voice breathless.

“Je veux que tu ressentes tout ça,” he continued, his accent wrapping around her like a caress. “Every bit of it.”

He kept his pace steady, his hips rolling into hers as he guided her through every wave of pleasure, whispering words that made her body sing. Senait lost herself in the moment, in him.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust sending Senait closer to the edge. She clung to him, savoring every second, the intensity building until it finally shattered. She cried out his name as her orgasm took over, and he followed shortly after, his deep groan vibrating through her.

The room fell quiet except for the sound of their heavy breathing. Jules gently pulled away and disposed of the condom before sliding back into bed beside her.

“Damn,” Senait muttered, a lazy grin spreading across her face. “That was… something else.” The best dick I had in awhile….

Jules chuckled. “Yeah, it was.” His fingers lazily traced patterns along her arm, and for a few minutes, they lay in a comfortable, post-bliss silence. Then, he broke it, his voice curious. “So, tell me about yourself. What’s your story, Senait?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, amused. “My story? That’s a loaded question for after sex.”

He laughed, and the sound was so genuine it made her smile. “Fair point. Maybe just the basics, then? Where you’re from, what you do.”

She shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow. “Alright. I’m from New York, but my parents are from Eritrea."

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Habesha girl, huh?"

Senait couldn’t help but laugh, a warm sound that filled the room. "Yeah," she nodded, her curls bouncing slightly. "You know about Eritrea?"

"A bit,” he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Enough to know Habesha girls are known to be trouble."

She laughed again, rolling her eyes. "Oh, is that what you heard?"

"Mm-hmm," he teased, catching one of her hands and bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “But I think I like a bit of trouble."

She felt her heart do a small flip, a flutter that caught her off guard. But she masked it with a smirk. "Well, you don’t seem so innocent yourself, Jules."

He chuckled, his gaze holding hers, and for a second, the playful exchange melted into something deeper. It made her chest tighten, but she didn’t hate the feeling.

"What about you?" she asked, shifting to face him more.

"I was born in France but my dad is from Benin,” he replied, his tone softening. “And my mom made sure I knew my roots."

She smiled, the kind of smile that reached her eyes. "That’s beautiful."

They fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, swapping stories about family traditions, favorite childhood meals, and dreams of places they still wanted to see. He shared little quirks about himself—like how he had a weird obsession with trying out different hot sauces—and she couldn’t help but giggle.

"Hot sauce? Really?" she teased, her laughter melting the last bit of tension between them.

"Hey," he said with mock seriousness. "Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it."

After another round, they eventually decided to call it a night and sleep claimed them both before either one could object.

_____________________________________________

Senait squinted at her phone screen, the bright light offensive to her barely-awake eyes. 10:47 AM. Shit.

She carefully extracted herself from Jules' warm embrace, pausing as he stirred slightly before settling back into deep sleep. Sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, catching the defined planes of his back. Senait allowed herself a moment of appreciation – both for the view and for the memories of the night before.

All that from some hip movements and good conversation, she thought, amused at herself as she searched for her clothes.

She found her dress first, then her thong, silently congratulating herself on her decision to wear the simple black one instead of anything complicated. Her heels could stay where they'd landed last night – she wasn't about to risk clicking across his floor at this hour. The clutch, thankfully, was right by the door.

One last glance at Jules' sleeping form, and she slipped out, ordering an Uber as she made her way down in the elevator. The morning air hit her skin, fresh and crisp, a stark contrast to the heat of last night's memories.

Back at her hotel, Senait stepped into a scalding shower, watching as water sluiced away the evidence of the night before. Jules' cologne had lingered on her skin, and part of her was reluctant to wash it away. Now you're really being ridiculous, she chided herself.

Another Uber, another ride across Madrid. As she approached Aurélien's impressive front gates – definitely a footballer's house – she pressed the intercom button.

"YOU BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING!" Zuri's voice crackled through the speaker, followed by the immediate buzz of the gate opening.

Senait walked up the path, taking in the manicured gardens and modern architecture. Before she could even reach the door, Zuri burst out, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You disappeared!" Zuri exclaimed, pulling her inside. "One minute you're dancing with Jules, looking like something out of a music video, and the next – poof!"

Senait couldn't help but laugh at her friend's enthusiasm. "Sorry about that. Your engagement party was lovely, by the way."

"Oh, don't even try to change the subject," Zuri said, steering them toward the kitchen. "Coffee first, then details. All of them."

As Zuri busied herself with the coffee maker, Senait settled onto one of the sleek barstools, grinning at her friend's obvious curiosity. The morning sun streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating a kitchen that looked like it belonged in a magazine.

"So," Zuri said, sliding a steaming mug across the counter. "Jules, huh?"

"Jules," Senait confirmed, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. "Let's just say... those football skills translate well to other activities."

Zuri's eyes widened with delight. "I knew it! The way you two were moving together... I had to do a double-take!"

"Says the woman who was basically giving Aurélien a lap dance by the end of the night."

"Hey, he's my fiancé, I'm allowed!" Zuri protested, laughing. "But seriously, I've never seen you like that with anyone. Jules must be something special."

Senait took a long sip of her coffee, considering. "He's... interesting," she admitted. "But don't go planning another engagement party just yet."

As Zuri leaned forward, eager for more details, Senait settled in for what promised to be a thorough interrogation. At least the coffee was good.

"You can't just ghost people like that, Sen," Zuri was saying, her voice taking on that familiar lecturing tone. "Especially not good guys like Jules."

Senait shrugged, taking another long sip of her coffee. "I'm focused on myself right now. Not looking to complicate things."

"That's such a cop-out and you know it—"

The sound of the front door opening cut off Zuri's impending sermon. Aurélien's voice echoed through the house, followed by footsteps and – Senait's stomach did an unexpected flip – a familiar French-accented laugh.

Of course, Senait thought, maintaining her composure even as her pulse quickened. Of course he'd be with Aurélien.

Jules appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Aurélien, looking unfairly good in track pants and a fitted t-shirt. His hair was damp from a shower, and in his hands were her abandoned Louboutins.

"I found this, Cinderella," Jules teased, his eyes dancing with amusement as he held up the heels.

Senait rolled her eyes, but she couldn't quite suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "How original," she drawled, sliding off the barstool to retrieve her shoes. "I'm sure you've been waiting all morning to use that line."

"Actually, I had a few others prepared," Jules replied, not releasing the shoes immediately when she reached for them. Their fingers brushed, and Senait tried to ignore the tiny spark of electricity that shot through her at the contact. "But I thought I'd save those for when you're not running away."

From the corner of her eye, Senait could see Zuri and Aurélien exchanging looks. Aurélien had moved to lean against the counter, his arm around Zuri's waist, both of them watching the exchange like it was their favorite TV show.

"Bold of you to assume I'm running," Senait said, finally securing her heels. "Maybe I just had better things to do."

Jules stepped closer, just enough to make her have to tilt her head back slightly to maintain eye contact. "Better than breakfast?" he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "I know a place that makes excellent crêpes."

"Does that line usually work?"

"You tell me."

Senait was acutely aware of their audience, could practically feel Zuri vibrating with anticipation across the kitchen. But something in Jules' steady gaze made it hard to look away, hard to maintain her usual wall of detachment.

"I don't normally do breakfast," she said finally, but her voice lacked its usual firmness.

"Lunch then," Jules countered smoothly. "Or dinner. I'm not picky about meal times."

A snort of laughter from Zuri's direction broke the moment. Senait glanced over to see her friend hastily trying to compose her face into something neutral, while Aurélien didn't even bother hiding his grin.

"Don't mind us," Aurélien said, raising his hands when Senait shot him a look. "We're just here for the show."

"Glad we could entertain," Senait deadpanned, but she could feel warmth creeping up her neck. This wasn't how her morning-after escapes usually went.

Jules hadn't moved away, his presence a warm, solid thing behind her. "So?" he prompted. "What's it going to be? Because I can keep going. I have all day, and Aurélien just restocked his coffee."

"You're persistent," Senait observed, turning back to face him.

"You're worth persisting for."

Zuri made a sound that could only be described as a squeal, quickly muffled against Aurélien's shoulder. Senait ignored her, focusing instead on the earnest look in Jules' eyes, the slight vulnerability beneath his confident exterior.

This could be dangerous, she thought. But for the first time in a long time, the danger felt more thrilling than threatening.

"Fine," she said finally. "Dinner. But I'm choosing the place."

The smile that spread across Jules' face made something warm unfurl in her chest. "Deal."

"Oh my God, this is better than Netflix," Zuri whispered loudly to Aurélien, who chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Senait picked up her coffee cup again, hiding her own smile behind it. Maybe mornings after weren't so bad after all.

Monday morning found Jules stretched out on his hotel bed in Clairefontaine, absently scrolling through his phone while his teammates' voices echoed from the hallway. His thumb hovered over Senait's contact for what felt like the hundredth time.

The weekend's memories kept playing through his mind: the way she moved against him at the engagement party, her quick wit, that laugh that seemed to catch him by surprise. And then... nothing. Radio silence. Again.

Aurélien had been sent back to his hotel in Paris with a foot sprain, leaving Jules alone with his thoughts. Maybe he should cut his losses. Women usually made it clear they were interested in him – perks of being a professional footballer – but Senait? She was different. Challenging. Made him work for it.

And maybe that's exactly why you can't stop thinking about her, he mused, remembering their verbal sparring, the way she'd match him comment for comment, never backing down.

Jules smiled despite himself. He'd always preferred the chase, and Senait definitely wasn't making it easy. His mind wandered to possibilities – maybe he could get her to Paris, or even Barcelona. The thought of showing her around, seeing that sharp wit directed at his favorite places...

Fuck it, he thought, hitting the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

One ring. Two. Three. He was about to hang up when—

"Hello?" Senait's voice came through, sounding both surprised and slightly amused.

"So she does answer her phone," Jules teased, settling back against his pillows. "How's New York treating you?"

A soft sigh. "It's there. I'm tired. Really not feeling work tomorrow."

"Public relations, right?" He couldn't keep the smugness out of his voice.

"I see Zuri's been running her mouth," Senait scoffed.

"Ease up on my sister-in-law. She's just being a good friend, looking out for you."

"She's trying to play matchmaker."

"And what if she is?" Jules challenged, his voice dropping lower.

"Listen," Senait started, and he could practically see her straightening up, preparing for battle. "You seem like a good guy, Jules. But I'm not looking for a relationship right now. And even if I was, the distance? Come on. You're in France, I'm in New York, then you're in Barcelona—"

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Jules interrupted, smirking. "We can be friends. Friends who occasionally fuck."

Senait's laugh burst through the phone, genuine and surprised. "You're impossible."

"I've been called worse," he said, then added more seriously, "But I hear your warnings. I just don't give a shit."

"Jules—"

"How soon can you see me?"

A pause. "It'll be a while."

"Don't you work remote sometimes?" he pressed, remembering another tidbit from Zuri.

Senait's sigh was heavy with resignation. "Fridays and Mondays."

"Perfect. I'm going to wire you some money. Book a flight."

"No—"

"That wasn't a question, chérie. That was a demand."

Before she could protest further, Jules ended the call, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He immediately opened his banking app, then sent her a quick text with the transfer details.

His phone buzzed almost immediately:

You're fucking crazy.

Jules' smile widened as he typed back:

Crazy about that ass. Book the flight. 😜

Putting his phone down, he laced his fingers behind his head, feeling more energized than he had all day. Senait could protest all she wanted, but he'd seen the way she looked at him, felt how she responded to his touch. She might be running, but Jules was more than ready for a chase.

And he had a feeling the prize would be worth every step.

________________________________________

Senait slouched deeper into the couch, balancing her laptop on her knees as she clicked through another IT training module. The Parisian afternoon light filtered through the curtains, a constant reminder that she'd actually done it – actually let Jules fly her out to Paris.

This wasn't part of the plan, she thought, absently picking at the remains of her breakfast croissant. The past week had been a constant back-and-forth in her mind, her finger hovering over the "book flight" button more times than she cared to admit.

This was supposed to be her time. Finding herself, exploring her interests, having fun without complications. But then again...

You can have fun with a fine-ass footballer who wants to fly you out and dick you down, her inner voice reasoned. That's technically self-care.

She hadn't told Zuri about any of this. Her best friend had enough on her plate with Aurélien's sprained foot and her father being... well, being Ernest. Senait had never liked that man, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

At least the red-eye flight timing had worked in her favor. These self-guided trainings meant she could take it easy, and by 2 PM, she'd finally finished the last module. After polishing off her leftover breakfast, exhaustion hit her like a wave. She stretched out on the couch, telling herself she'd just rest her eyes for a moment.

What happened to be hours later, the sound of a keycard in the door jolted her awake. Before she could fully orient herself, Jules was already entering, still in his national team tracksuit with a duffel bag over his shoulder.

"You could've at least knocked," Senait said, voice raspy with sleep as she sat up.

Jules clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he dropped the bag near the bed. "Is that how you greet me?" His accent was thicker tonight, his voice carrying that commanding tone that made something flutter in her stomach.

Finally focusing properly, Senait took him in – he looked tired, a bit frustrated, but somehow still unfairly attractive. "Rough match?"

"Lost to Italy. 3-1," he said, dropping his bag by the door. "Not our best showing."

"I saw some highlights," she lied, having accidentally slept through the entire thing.

Jules shot her a knowing look. "The drool on your chin says otherwise."

Senait quickly wiped at her face, making him laugh. "Have you eaten?" he asked, already reaching for the room service menu.

"Not hungry."

"You're going to eat now. I don't want you fainting later."

Before Senait could protest, he was on the suite’s phone, ordering in rapid French. She caught bits and pieces, enough to know he was ordering way too much food.

"Come here," he said after hanging up, patting the space next to him on the other side of the couch.

Senait shook her head. "I'm fine where I am."

"Senait." His voice dropped lower, taking on that tone that seemed to bypass her brain and go straight to her clit. "Come here."

Damn him, she thought, even as she found herself moving toward him. Jules wasted no time pulling her against his chest, arranging her exactly how he wanted her.

"I don't do cuddling," she protested weakly.

"You do now," he replied simply, his hand stroking slowly up and down her arm. "Relax."

Gradually, despite herself, Senait felt her body melting into his warmth. They talked about nothing and everything – his frustration with the match, her work, the best cafes in Paris. She found herself enjoying his company more than she wanted to admit.

He's annoying, she thought, even as she nestled closer. So bossy and sure of himself. But remembering their night together after the engagement party, how he'd taken control with such easy confidence, how he seemed to know exactly what she needed... maybe bossy wasn't such a bad thing.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Jules murmured, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

"Just thinking about how annoying you are," Senait replied honestly, making him laugh.

"And yet here you are, in Paris, in my arms."

"Don't get too cocky."

"Too late for that, chérie." His voice held that dominant edge that made her pulse quicken. "I already know exactly what I want, and I usually get it."

Senait turned her head to look at him. Yeah, Jules definitely knew what he wanted. And God help her, she was starting to think she might want it too.

"You weren't like this at the engagement party," she observed, studying his profile. "All dominant and bossy."

Jules' laugh was low and rich. "Had to reel you in first, didn't I? Don't worry, chérie, you'll get used to it."

"Bold of you to assume I'll stick around long enough to—"

A knock at the door cut her off. Jules untangled himself from her, the loss of his warmth immediate and, annoyingly, noticeable. He answered the door with that easy confidence of his, greeting the waiter in French and gesturing him inside.

The waiter wheeled in a cart, lifting silver covers to reveal what was possibly the most luxurious version of comfort food Senait had ever seen – perfectly constructed burgers, golden fries, steaming French onion soup, and what looked like a sinfully rich chocolate dessert.

After tipping the waiter and closing the door, Jules arranged her plate in front of her with a flourish. "Want ketchup?"

"No, I'm good."

Jules pressed a hand to his chest in mock horror. "You're just going to rawdog the fries? No sauce at all?"

"Did you really just say 'rawdog'?" Senait laughed, picking up a fry. "And yes, I am. Die mad about it."

"Uncultured," he teased, settling back beside her with his own plate.

They fell into easy conversation as they ate, Jules telling her about the match ("That ref was clearly wearing an Italy jersey under his uniform") and Senait filling him in on the office drama she was missing ("My coworker definitely scheduled these trainings just so she could take over my project").

Then, casual as anything, Jules said, "When we're done eating, I want you naked on the bed."

Senait choked on her Coke, barely avoiding spraying it across the room. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me." He took another bite of his burger, the picture of nonchalance.

Senait blinked slowly, opened her mouth, closed it again. She stared at him, but Jules just continued eating, acting like he hadn't just short-circuited her brain with eight words.

The audacity of this man, she thought, even as heat pooled in her belly. She forced herself to focus on her food, very aware of the growing tension in the room.

They finished their food in charged silence, Senait taking her sweet time with the last few fries, Jules watching her with growing impatience. When she finally set down her napkin, Jules fixed her with a look, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Senait..."

"Yes?" She blinked at him innocently, as if she hadn't spent the last ten minutes deliberately ignoring his earlier command.

His eyes darkened. "You're testing me."

"I'm just enjoying my dinner," she said primly, examining her nails. The defiance was instinctive – she'd never been good at taking orders, even ones that made her pulse race.

Jules leaned forward, his voice dropping to that tone that seemed to vibrate through her. "I'm not in the mood for games tonight. The match has me frustrated enough." His accent thickened as he continued, "I told you where I want you. Don't make me say it again."

Senait remained in her seat, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't about to give up control that easily, even if part of her was dying to comply.

"Un." His voice was dangerously soft.

She crossed her legs.

"Deux."

Her heartbeat quickened, but she held her ground.

"Tr—"

"Fine," Senait huffed, standing up. As she walked toward the bed, she heard him mutter under his breath in French, something about fucking the defiance right out of her.

Senait sauntered over to the bed, her hips swaying defiantly. She took her time undressing, piece by piece, her eyes never leaving Jules. Each discarded article was an unspoken taunt, a silent reminder that she wasn’t one to simply submit. Finally, she lay back on the sheets, her skin warm under the soft glow of the room’s ambient lighting.

Jules, still perched on the couch, watched her with barely restrained impatience, the muscle in his jaw ticking. He rose slowly, crossing the distance between them, and pulled off his sneakers with methodical precision, followed by his tracksuit and then his underwear. Even though she’d seen his body before, it never failed to stir something deep in her.

He approached the bed, climbing onto it with a confident grace, settling between her legs. His large hands pushed her thighs apart, spreading her wide so he could take in every inch of her exposed pussy. His gaze was heavy, almost reverent, and he reached out to touch her, fingers trailing along her wet folds.

A low chuckle escaped him. "You’re always so fucking wet for me."

Senait’s breath hitched as he spit onto her pussy, the added slickness making her shiver in anticipation. And then his mouth was on her, lips and tongue working her in ways that sent sparks of pleasure racing up her spine. He sucked at her clit, teasing and tugging with his teeth before soothing with long, lazy licks. His fingers slid inside her, curling in just the right way that had her arching off the bed, a strangled moan slipping from her lips.

He added another finger, stretching her, filling her in a way that made her head spin. Each flick of his tongue, each thrust of his hand, was deliberate and skilled. Senait felt herself unraveling under his touch, fully understanding how addictive this man could be. He was so good at this, at drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling and gasping, her nails digging into the sheets.

Jules eventually kissed his way up her body, pausing to circle her nipple with his tongue, sucking lightly before continuing upward. When he finally reached her mouth, he kissed her sloppily, taking complete control. His lips claimed hers with a hunger that left her breathless, and she knew her mouth would be swollen later. His hands gripped her waist, holding her steady as he devoured her, leaving no space between their bodies.

Pulling back just slightly, Jules slid off the bed to grab a condom from his tracksuit. Senait’s heart raced as she watched him, every movement of his toned body another tease. He rolled the condom on with practiced ease, standing at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes locked on hers.

With one firm tug, he pulled her toward him by her ankle. Her body slid across the sheets effortlessly, and he leaned down to kiss her again, his mouth hot and demanding. Then he lined himself up, pressing into her in one fluid motion, filling her completely.

Senait moaned, the feeling of him inside her overwhelming. He set a punishing pace, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one making her cry out. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, her breathless moans, and his low groans of pleasure.

"Look at you," Jules said, his voice husky, full of heat. "Taking me so well. Like you were made for this."

His dirty talk had her shuddering, her body tightening around him. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he kept driving into her, never breaking his rhythm. The power in his movements, the way he controlled her so effortlessly, had her surrendering completely, her mind foggy with pleasure.

Her small frame was no challenge to his much larger one, and all she could do was hold on, gasping and moaning as he held her tight. Her nails scraped down his back, and he hissed, the sound only spurring him on.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice a mix of English and the occasional French phrase, his words rough and dirty. "So tight, so perfect."

Senait’s world narrowed to the feeling of him, the heat and pressure and the way he filled her up. Every thrust pushed her closer to the edge, her mind a haze of desire. She was lost to him, and she never wanted to be found.

Jules’s grip tightened on Senait’s ass as he thrust into her with a controlled intensity, his body pressed so firmly against hers that she could feel every ridge of his muscles. The friction between them was overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the brink. Her moans grew louder, her hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor herself.

"Jules," she gasped, her voice breaking as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot that made her toes curl.

He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "Yeah? You gonna come for me, bébé." The way he spoke, his deep voice dripping with authority, sent a shiver down her spine. His words were a command, not a question, and she could only nod, too breathless to respond.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck, his accent thick and his breath warm. "Let me feel you."

The combination of his thrusts, the heat of his skin, and the praise sent her spiraling. Senait’s body arched, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. Her cries echoed through the room, and Jules groaned, feeling her clench around him. He slowed his pace, drawing out her pleasure, his own body straining as he held himself back.

When she finally came down from her high, her limbs felt boneless, her body buzzing with satisfaction. Jules kissed her deeply, his hands roaming over her curves, grounding them both. But he wasn’t done yet. His thrusts picked up speed again, his grip on her ass firm as he chased his own release.

"Fuck," he bit out, his voice tight with pleasure. With a final thrust, he came, his body shuddering as he carefully pressed her down onto the bed. They stayed tangled together, their breaths coming in ragged pants, skin slick with sweat.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their heavy breathing and the quiet rustle of the sheets. Jules pulled out gently, disposing of the condom and then collapsing beside her. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close.

Senait’s head rested on his chest, her fingers lazily tracing patterns over his skin. The silence between them was warm, filled with the afterglow of what had just happened.

"You’re something else, you know that?" he said, his voice low and still laced with a hint of his earlier desire. "So hardheaded."

She laughed softly, the sound vibrating against him. "So I’ve been told."

The Barcelona sun streamed through Jules' windows, painting his living room in warm afternoon light. His phone buzzed with a text from Senait, breaking her latest bout of radio silence:

How's it going?

A smile tugged at his lips. Three days of nothing, and now she pops up like she hadn't disappeared again. Typical Senait.

Jules settled deeper into his couch, memories of Paris flooding back. That weekend had been... intense. After she'd finally given in to his commands that first night, it was like a dam had broken. They'd barely left the hotel room, ordering room service between rounds of what he could only describe as the best sex of his life. He'd had her every way but loose – against the wall, on the balcony (thankfully hidden from view), in the massive shower, bent over the—

His phone buzzed again: Earth to Jules

He smirked, typing back: Just thinking about Paris 😈 💦

S: Stop that

J: Why? I particularly enjoyed that thing you did with your—

S: JULES!!!!

He could practically hear her exasperated tone, picture the way she'd roll her eyes even as a smile played at her lips. That was the thing about Senait – she tried so hard to maintain her walls, but he'd seen behind them. Seen the way she melted under his touch, the way she'd curl into him after, despite her "no cuddling" rule.

The pattern had established itself pretty quickly after Paris. She'd ghost him for a few days, then pop up with a text or call like nothing had happened. At first, it had frustrated him – he wasn't used to women playing hard to get, especially not after sleeping with him. But Senait wasn't playing anything. This was just who she was: fiercely independent, resistant to attachment, and absolutely terrified of letting anyone too close.

Their late-night FaceTime calls had become his favorite, though. She'd be in her NYC apartment, usually in some oversized t-shirt, hair piled messily on top of her head. No makeup, no pretense. Just Senait, raw and real.

"I don't even know if PR is what I want to do," she'd confessed during one such call, about a week after Paris. "It's my first job out of university, and everyone acts like I should be grateful just to have my foot in the door, but..."

"But?" he'd prompted, watching her fidget with her sleeve.

"But sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions. Like I'm doing what's expected instead of what I want."

"And what do you want?"

She'd gone quiet then, chewing her bottom lip. "That's the problem. I don't know."

Jules had listened as she talked about her frustrations – the office politics, the endless meetings about meetings, the feeling of being stuck in a role she'd fallen into rather than chosen. He'd offered advice when asked, but mostly he just let her vent.

These were the moments that got to him the most. Not the sex (though that was incredible), not the witty banter (though he lived for it), but these quiet moments of vulnerability. When Senait would let her guard down just enough to show him the uncertainties beneath her confident exterior.

His phone lit up with another text:

Work is kicking my ass this week

Come to Barcelona, he typed back without hesitation. Take a break 👀

There was a long pause before her response:

S: Jules...

J: I'm serious. You can work remote, no?

S: It's not that simple

J: I'll make it simple. Let me take care of everything

Another pause. He could almost see her internal debate playing out.

S: I can't just drop everything and run to Barcelona

J: Why not?

When she didn't respond immediately, he called her. She answered on the fourth ring.

"Because normal people don't just jet off to different countries on a whim," she said by way of greeting.

"Since when are you normal?" He stretched out on his couch, grinning at her scoff. "Besides, you did it for Paris."

"That was different."

"How?"

"It just was."

Jules hummed, unconvinced. "Sounds like excuses to me. You're scared."

"I am not—"

"You are," he interrupted smoothly. "You're scared because Paris was good. Really good. And now you're worried about what it means that you want to do it again."

The silence that followed told him he'd hit the mark.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," he continued, his voice softening. "Come to Barcelona. Work from here for a week. Let me show you the city. No pressure, no expectations."

"Just a friend showing me around?" Her tone was skeptical.

"A friend who happens to enjoy fucking you senseless, yes."

Her surprised laugh warmed something in his chest. "You're impossible."

"Is that a yes?"

Senait sighed, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "Let me check my calendar."

"Check it now."

"So bossy."

"You love it."

"I tolerate it," she corrected, but he could hear her typing. After a moment: "I might be able to swing next week. My team has another training thing, and I could do it remote..."

"Perfect. I'll send you flight details."

"I haven't said yes yet!"

"But you will." He let his voice drop lower, the way he knew affected her. "Because you can't stop thinking about Paris either."

Her sharp intake of breath confirmed it. "You're very sure of yourself."

"With good reason." He glanced at the time – he had training soon. "Think about it. But not too long. Barcelona's lovely this time of year."

After they hung up, Jules found himself scrolling through his photos, stopping on one he'd snapped in Paris without Senait noticing. She was standing on the hotel balcony, early morning light casting a glow around her, coffee cup in hand as she looked out over the city. Her guard had been down, no poses or pretenses.

That's how he liked her best – real, unfiltered, not running from whatever this thing between them was becoming.

His phone buzzed one more time:

Send me the flight details. But I'm not promising anything.

Jules grinned. She could play hard to get all she wanted, but they both knew she'd end up in Barcelona. And this time, he planned to keep her around a bit longer.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

#emjayewrites #jules lore #jules kounde #jules kounde x black reader #jules kounde x black oc #in between the lines #Jules x Senait #footballer x black reader #footballer x reader #fcbarcelona fanfic

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i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end · 2 days ago

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Sooooo, I cannot believe this was one year ago! What surprises me less is that I am still here gushing over Jeremy Brett. I am also still sad I can't actually write him a letter, but although it made me feel silly to write a fan letter to a dead man last year, it was also lovely to see that there are people in this community who appreciated it and felt similar. So, if I know writing this cannot connect me in any way to Jeremy himself, it makes me happy to know it connects me to you. :)

Dear Mr Brett, most likely you do not remember that I have written to you one year ago, but if you do, maybe it pleases you to know that I have since watched much more of your work (not only Sherlock Holmes). If that has changed anything, I now admire your work and - dare I say it - you even more. But most of all I want to tell you: I deepened one and found another true friendhip since I last wrote because your portrayal of Sherlock Holmes is so rich and nuanced. It turns out you can talk about it daily to someone for more than a year, and this is a wonderful basis for a more personal relationship! (Well, let me be honest: Much of that bonding took place over proving that you are more handsome than Gene Kelly. We succeeded, of course. Why do you even ask?) I marvel about this a lot: You and I could never even have met, and now you helped me making friends (talking until 3 am, and maybe even going to Italy!). Time is a strange thing. If you move us 30 years after we could have met, why not thank you 30 years later, too? And I am moved. My own situation made it necessary to reflect a lot about love and friendship in the past year. I know you did not like Sherlock Holmes for a long time, but your portrayal helped me a lot to figure some things out for myself. Ironically, it is Holmes who helps me feel less lonely and less scared ... stories of a great friendship indeed. It gives me strength. I also appreciate roses a lot more since I think about "your" Holmes nearly constantly, and I have never before noticed how many of them actually are around (even in November!). It is a simple exercise, but now, every time I see one, I am reminded there is beauty, and hope. Most likely, you would not want to take credit for any of this. But I do not think it is as easy as this, since I know several people who feel similar. You keep inspiring us - to find some hope, and courage, and companionship. If this makes only a little difference for a few of us, I think this amounts to a huge difference over all. For your 91st birthday, I have nothing else to offer than my sincerest gratitude and admiration, and my best wishes, Artemis Ps: Yes, this letter was properly sentimental and a bit silly, but I trust you appreciate a little whimsy. Pps: Everyone agrees that it is a crime your singing was dubbed in My Fair Lady! Ppps: Please know I would sell my soul to see you on stage (and I am afraid this is also the only way I might ever be able to do so). Pppps: I am sure you receive tons of fan mail (as you should!), so you probably did not get around to sending me a signed photograph last year. I do not expect that you have more time this year; however, I would be a fool not to try again! I would be thrilled and so so thankful (and seriously doubt my sanity) if you would send me one this year.

I think a lot about that one anecdote about Jeremy - the one where he wrote himself fan mail. I obviously didn't know him, but for me, this story encompasses many of the character traits I think he possessed: a delightful eccentricity, humour, a perfectionism that was both a blessing and a curse, a little vanity perhaps, and an underlying sadness.

I think and talk/write a lot about him and Granada Holmes, and while I am sometimes glad I don't belong to those people who have to worry that their idol goes online and sees all the unhinged things written about them, it also makes me sad that none of us has the chance to write him any actual fan mail. I get the impression that he was the kind of person who would be very flattered to receive fan mail for his 90th birthday! So I decided to do just that! It's very embarrassing and sappy and probably mad - but here we go!

Dear Mr. Brett, since you would turn 90 today, I think you would love to learn just how much your portrayal of Sherlock Holmes still means to so many people (including me) today - decades after you worked so hard to gift us the best possible version of Holmes! I greatly admire and love the depth you gave to the character, and no less your own strength, kindness, and determination. I was born too late to ever have the chance to tell you, but you and your work make me a little happier every day and I am so very grateful for that. You truly played the best Holmes there ever was, and maybe the best one there ever will be. I wish there was a thing I could write to give you back some of the joy you give me daily. Happy birthday! Sincerely yours, a Tumblr user who now feels extremely embarrassed but nevertheless meant every word she wrote Ps: Please do send me a signed photograph, I can guarantee you I will faint if I find it in my mailbox. Pps: I agree that you are prettier than Rathbone, Wilmer, and Stephens!

#actually I would have a few more things to say but I'd never admit them to him haha #happy birthday #jeremy brett #this is completely illogical but I miss you #unnecessarily handsome #asexual falling hard for actors from an 80s show

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 day ago

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Hi!

Firstly, thank you so much for all you do, it’s much appreciated 🥹 secondly, I’m not sure if this is something you’ve answered already so apologies in advance if it is, tumblr’s search function is not exemplary 😅

I was hoping you’d have some alternatives for “my throat tightens” or “I swallow hard” to use in difficult, emotional moments? I feel like I’m using them way too much and I’m drawing a blank. When I try to search for it I’m just getting results for dysphagia 😂

Thank you! 🖤

Cues for Difficult/Emotional moments

There are only so many ways to describe a tightening throat, and no matter how you word it ("my throat tightens," "I swallow hard," or "a lump formed in my throat"), it's still repetitive. You're over relying on the internal cues in one part of the body (the throat) rather than the many, many others that give us emotional cues.

For example...

Lungs: - "my breath hitched" - "I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks" - "my breaths became shallow" - "I let out a long, shaky exhale" - "I drew a deep breath through my nose" - "My chest felt tight"

Chest/Heart - "my heart pounded" - "my heart sunk" - "my heartbeat turned to a panicked flutter" - "my heart thudded in my chest" - "I was too aware of my beating heart" - "My chest swelled with fury" Stomach/Core - "My stomach churned" - "A queasy feeling settled in my gut" - "A fresh wave of panic made my stomach tighten" - "My insides churned like a turbulent sea" - "My insides felt hollow, filled only with sadness"

I could go on, but I think you get the point. Take a moment to take stock of where you feel emotion in moments like the one you want to describe. It's not just something you feel in your throat. :)

If you have a little cash to spend or can put it on a gift list, I highly recommend picking up a copy (in print or e-book) of The Emotion Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi. Even as a seasoned writer, I still find this resource to be incredibly helpful when I'm stuck on what internal or external cue would be perfect for what I'm trying to convey.

If nothing else, you can also Google "internal cues to indicate anger" or "external cues to show sadness" and see if any good suggestions come up.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

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hestzhyen · 2 days ago

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Chapter 56 Karasu Posting

Hooooooly moly dear void. I will de-feral this as much as possible before posting, but full disclosure: I am not hiding my Hakuri bias at all this time. Thank you once again for tolerating my bullshit.

Now that I have access to the JP version, I can try to TL the editor's notes that are left out of the EN version! They're not super important or anything, but it's still an unnecessary corner to cut IMO. Other languages like Spanish keep them in...

(Please consider this and all other TLs practice for myself and not an actual competent interpretation, kind void.)

First page: 代償と覚悟- [taishou to kakugo-, "Cost and resolve..."]; I think a better, less literal translation would be along the lines of "The cost of one's resolve...", but again, not in any way competent at this. Last page: 妖刀振るう者の実力戦況が動く-!! [youtou furuu mono no jitsuryoku senkyou ga ugoku-!!, "The tide of battle shifts as the Bearer shows his true abilities through his enchanted blade...!!"]; 戦況 (senkyou) literally means "progress of a battle" or "war situation" but I think it's equivalent enough to the phrase "tide of battle" to translate it as such. It sounds a lot less stiff that way anyway... and yeah, 妖刀 (youtou, bewitched/magical/demon sword) is what the enchanted blades are called in Japanese, just like 振るう者 (furuu mono, wielder) are the Bearers. This one's honestly a toughie for me since it's hard to keep all the connotations without the sentence getting clunky or too far off from the original. Welp, that's why I'm just a total amateur still!

Also, putting this here in case it's left untranslated in the EN version: In regards to Samura's command when he draws Tobimune, karasu (鴉) means "crow" or "raven"- hence all the feathers. What an awesome reuse of the theme from Roku no Meiyaku!

Someone save this one-shot from MTL hell pretty please

Crows can represent good omens in Japan- they're associated with gratitude, guidance, and good luck in addition to the usual things like cleverness and trickery. Pretty fitting for Samura, I'd say! Especially with the backstory we got about him and the Makizumi this chapter.

On Respect for Life

I love Hokazono-sensei's chibi style. Look at Samura scolding his guards like Shiba scolded Hakuri and Chihiro!

This manga seriously never misses on the found family wholesomeness. I know we're getting this backstory to make the potential upcoming deaths hurt so much more- the only question I'm asking right now is how many of them will live through whatever the Hishaku's trump card is. I just love seeing characters care deeply for each other beyond the sake of duty, y'know? No mater how they meet, they connect and come to value each other's lives as much as or more than their own. That's peak shounen!

Samura's so passionate about saving the lives that others are willing to give up for his sake that he can't bear to leave them behind even when it's for the best. It takes Uruha's intervention to get him the hell out of there but he immediately wants to charge back in. He wants to save no matter how much it conflicts with his personal beliefs or how much it will cost him personally- no matter how much it will cost the whole nation if he dies (sounds like someone else we know).

What about Uruha, though? He's not quite like his (former) master- he's been tempered differently and I can't wait to find out why. He seems to be very accepting of letting other people die for his sake again.

Uruha has the same abundant respect for life and the desire to protect that Samura does but it manifests completely differently. He still recklessly jumps in to save the day, but he's far more prudent about strategy despite being younger. To Uruha, valuing the lives of the guards means acknowledging the importance they place on his own. He respects their devotion by staying alive to ensure their sacrifices aren't in vain. It's about honoring the choice they made, even if it hurts him to do so. (And possibly another thing, but that'll be near the end since it's kind of a reach on my part.)

Master and disciple of the same style with completely different outlooks on how to emphasize the importance of life. Which one will be given credence by the story here, though? Depends on a technically unrelated third party.

Hakuri, the Makizumi, and Samura

Hmmmmmmmmm who does this sound like.

If there were any doubts about what this part of the arc is for, let them be forever cast aside: this is for Hakuri's growth. The Makizumi, Uruha, and even Samura are here to focus on key aspects of Hakuri's character, namely his two biggest flaws: "freakishly devoted" and "not valuing himself enough or in the right way".

The obsessive devotion of the Sazanami clan was cast in a negative light- seeing themselves as tools, tradition over humanity, Soya's entire character. Now we have the Makizumi, a clan who also see themselves as tools to live for a master's sake. They're being shown in a positive way though: they're lovingly devoted to Samura's well-being, and the sacrifice they plan to make is noble instead of terribly pointless. But it's not because of their mindset- that's way too close to the Sazanami's for comfort. It's because they were humanized by being with Samura.

He rejected their protection and utility despite the air-tight logic of their argument. He absolutely refuses to let them die for his sake even though they essentially exist to do so. He's not a guy who trivializes life even if he's given full license to do so because it goes against his sincerely held beliefs. Instead, Samura sees them as people to care for and protect in return- that's how he values life (who else does that sound like?).

Now look at Hakuri.

Like the Makizumi, he lives to be useful. Working with Chihiro means making the world a better place so there will never be another Ice Lady. His life has no value other than how useful he is and what Chihiro sets it to (hence all the allusions to Hakuri being Chihiro's dog in the Japanese version).

Like Samura, he absolutely will not let others die for his sake. Even disregarding his own inherent value as a person, it doesn't matter to him that he's a key part of the plan for national stability. Whatever happens to him is of no consequence if it means others are safe. He will not let another life slip through his hands again.

So yes, this part of the arc at Senkutsuji is (almost) all for Hakuri. Uruha was an obvious parallel to him from the start, and now Samura's a mirror of his ardent savior complex while the Makizumi reflect the mindset that fuels it.

Sazanami Hakuri: #1 enabler of recklessly suicidal behavior.

What happens next depends on where Hakuri's character growth is intended to go. If he's supposed to be more like Samura, his actions will save the day and everything will be fine even if he himself is out of commission for a while. But if he's supposed to be more like Uruha, then this victory will be fleeting. I think the latter is the more compelling development, personally. There's nothing new or exciting about a character exceeding their limits to achieve an upset victory here. Hakuri's done it three times now, in fact. But I'll have more to say on this later. For now...

Shameless Hakuri Praising

I am absolutely insane over the colour page. It's the first one for a solo character that isn't Chihiro and it's just to show off Hakuri looking absolutely incredible!

Normally don't post the full thing but LOOK AT HIM. HE'S SO COOL!

//NOTE: May as well mark it in the off-chance it isn't removed: the kanji in the blue box is just the title of the series (神楽鉢, Kagurabachi).

I should have been more confident and not let someone talk me out of the "I'm the only one" connection to Kyora's willpower last week. I won't go back to edit it- that mistake will stay forever. But holy shit. I am in love with this colour page and all it represents. I've been waiting for ages for us to get reminders that Hakuri is still a Sazanami! He only destroyed his family about 24 hours ago, so their ideals are still very much present in him and core to who he is.

It's even down to the suit he's wearing! It's the same as his younger appearance in the Ch. 20 flashback panel, just with Kyoura's ugly tie from the Ch. 31 colour page:

Apologies yet again for my shitty MSPaint skills.

This is everything I wanted! Repudiating his family's ideals, taking them down, and leaving them behind to make the world a better place didn't undo everything that he was trained to do for his deeply-held beliefs. Hakuri still carries the legacy of his family with him in how he devotes his entire being to a cause. He's still his father's son.

There's his name, too! 伯理 [Hakuri] means "logical chief". It implies that the person is due respect as the family's role model, among other interesting things. So dressing him up in a suit and giving him his dad's tie makes me go just a skosh feral. He's the true Sazanami ideal that Kyoura could never be- living up to his name despite everything that happened between him and his family. Call it reaching if you want! I won't deny that it's a tenuous implication at best. But I love this kind of shit so I'm going to hold it close and gnaw on it in delulu land.

One last possible interpretation (and my personal favourite)- if the JP text is removed as usual from the EN version, the caption on it is: 胸に秘めたその信念- [mune ni hi meta sono shinen-; "The conviction(s) hidden in his heart..."] (curse Japanese for being vague about singular vs. plural so often) .

Hm. What could such an exuberant character like Hakuri be hiding? This guy is completely open about what he's thinking and feeling at all times- there's no mystery about what's going on with him.

Unless, of course, it has to do with his whole raison d'être.

Ice Lady is a complete unknown to Chihiro, Shiba, and everyone else. He only mentioned her as "someone who set [him] on the right path" in a flash back panel in chapter 34. He keeps what he did to her close to his heart, hidden away from the world. I hope this part of his backstory comes into play this arc or in the future. Her suicide completely changed his mentality but it got mixed into his slavish devotion mindset. He just shifted the focus of that resolve from the Rakuzaichi to saving lives.

But there's something else too. Something much more fundamental affects how Hakuri sees the world and himself that he doesn't talk about, much less acknowledge.

Most people would not frame this kind of physical harm as "love" in any way, shape, or form.

I made a separate post to go way too-depth about this facet of his character but here's the gist: Hakuri's deeply held belief in his own lack of worth is a key factor in his suicidal recklessness when it comes to acting on his other convictions.

He's used to thinking of himself as completely disposable just from the indoctrination he received as a Sazanami, but shovel a heaping helping of abusive, manipulative "love" on top of that? Hoo boy. Hakuri's got some harmful beliefs about his self-worth that he's not ready to face yet, much yet talk about. There's a reason why he's still got those Visual Metaphor Tools still hidden in his warehouse.

Hakuri's true reasons for acting the way he does are hidden alongside the beliefs about himself that he's yet to address, the combination of which are sending him into a self-destructive spiral. Deprogramming arc when?! I've always got my clown suit ready but come on...! Mentioning it so prominently means it's important, right? I'll get to see him talk about his past and trauma with Chihiro (or someone else he comes to trust) to start healing for real, right? RIGHT?!

Nice delusional rant, bro. But what about the chapter itself? Well, there's this deliberate artistic choice:

Chs. 42 & 56

Like father, like son.

Note the cracked mask and double lines that give a sort of distorted pulsing impression for them both. It's a cool as hell way to show them working against enormous mental strain, and they're the only characters to have this effect in the series so far. We're truly meant to see Kyora in Hakuri this chapter.

Of course he passes out right after. But never, ever doubt a Sazanami's capability to defend to the death.

[incoherent screeching]

God I love Hakuri so much. He responds to Samura's will resonating with his own and gives him exactly what he needs to save everyone like he's the Lady of the Lake: Kagurabachi edition.

Hakuri's resolve is the stuff of legends, no doubt about that. Chihiro was right to feel like he couldn't measure up to this guy's sheer tenacity; he's got a will of adamant, just like Kyora.

It's also leading him down the same path of self-destruction. So this moment is clutch as hell and I am cheering for him, yes... but I'm also wondering how the narrative will punish him.

Again, he's not dying despite that being noted as a possible outcome. So the question becomes: how dire was Healer Lady's "you'll lose your sorcery" warning in truth? I'm still 50/50 on him losing access at all, much less permanently. Might lean closer to losing access now than before, but it's not changed much.

Instead, I'm waiting to see how much I should keep glazing the writing.

Death Tangent (Hakuri Edition)

I lost a lot of faith in shounen series in general after I realized that "stop, you'll die!" is just a flat-out lie 99% of the time. Yeah, I know, death doesn't have to be the end result just because a character yelled about it. But the consequences of risking death should make me believe that it really was a possible outcome. It's almost insulting for a writer to try and convince me that the stakes really are that high before having everything be fine after a short bed rest.

Hm, that sounds familiar...

The stakes (chapter 42).

The consequences (chapter 45).

Shiba already committed this sin in chapter 42 and I let it slide because it was the only time so far it'd been invoked. And yeah, Chihiro probably would have went poof without recourse if he couldn't get out of the storehouse in time. But he's the main character so of course he wasn't going to die. Hakuri was the only one truly in danger there.

Char's existence also negates the worst outcomes. It's pretty safe to assume that she can heal any physical wounds our heroes incur- she can even regrow missing limbs with enough time after all! So the default stakes of "stop, you'll die!" are zilch unless the character is killed on the spot or succumbs before they can get to her (which is also undermined by Shiba's teleportation abilities).

...Or if they injure themselves in a way that Char can't help with. Which is why Chihiro's fine, but Hakuri's still struggling.

So, I might be giving the author too much credit with what I'm going to say here. I fully and freely admit it- it wouldn't be the first time I've done this. Yet I feel like the "deadly outcome" scenario here in chapter 56 isn't purely to create tension through cheap tactics. Neither, in fact, was Shiba's line in chapter 42 despite me writing it off as such. Instead, they're mentioned to highlight how self-destructive Hakuri is and set him up for changing that. Reasons being:

Healer lady mentioned death as a worst-case scenario alongside the more plausible consequence of losing his sorcery.

2. This is a direct continuation of the consequences from Shiba's exclamation in Ch. 42 instead of another one-off moment for dramatic tension.

Hakuri is mostly OK after Char's help and a good night's sleep. But he can't use his sorcery without passing out and looks like he's got a bit of a headache too. And what's this? He'll be fine in a few days but he keeps straining himself over and over? He's KOed by the pain with a nosebleed when he keeps pushing? Would you look at that- consequences. And he keeps making them worse!

Hakuri is trying to do that shounen protagonist thing of bashing his head against the wall until it crumbles from his sheer persistence. He got off almost scot-free the first time but he won't wait the few days it'll take to recover. He won't even let himself be taken elsewhere to shorten the time to 30 minutes. That's why we see him in the same state as Kyora when he was fighting off Magatsumi's influence in his death throes- Hakuri's actually risking his life using his abilities now. He's going to genuinely invite death over and over until he's forced not to somehow.

So what'll it be for him? Losing all his sorcery forever- or maybe only temporarily? Shoved offscreen in a coma? Another good night's sleep and actual rest for a week or two to be right as rain? Still running on fumes until the end of the arc? I'll be (unfairly) using the outcome of this situation to decide whether or not to take my sky-high evaluation of the series' writing down a notch. I have no problem putting on a rainbow wig and squeaky shoes if this all turns out to be me making delusional excuses. God knows I've done that plenty as a long-time KH fan and SoRiku shipper. I just want to know what to expect in return for trusting the author with my emotional investment. I can forgive a lot of things, but not having proper consequences for invoking death as an outcome really sticks in my craw.

Miscellaneous Thoughts

Samura and Uruha's argument also ties into the larger themes that I'm hoping get explored when it's time to focus on the Kamunabi as an org: the greatest good vs. the greater good for all. There are strong cases to be made on both sides of the divide and it's possible that some of them will be explored through Chihiro and Hiyuki when we get to them.

In Samura and Uruha's case, Samura is going against the government's well-justified interest in keeping him alive at all costs to act on his personal beliefs. It's noble and heroic- no one can deny that saving lives is an immensely good deed. But it's also a selfish act that exposes the nation to risk. Uruha is the voice of the other side of that philosophical argument saying that it's justifiable to sacrifice a few for the benefit of the many. He loathes that people are dying for him just as much as Samura does. But like Hakuri noted, he understands his own value in the grand scheme of things and acts according to what's best for the majority. In this case, he prioritizes his own life so that the Hishaku can't use a magical nuke in the event of his death.

This could just be reaching on my part, but I feel like it's a prelude to the eventual values conflict between Chihiro and Hiyuki. Chihiro acts in his own interests to do the greatest good he can while Hiyuki (so far) aligns with the Kamunabi's views that power of that level should be controlled for the good of the nation. Her view of Chihiro as a person shifted after the Rakuzaichi- she's willing to help him make his case to her superiors. But we haven't seen a hint of change in this mindset yet:

Ch. 20

Not to mention Kazane and Ikuto still (barely) hanging around after the Sojo debacle.

Chihiro's position hasn't budged at all either. He's got his dad's words about not letting the Kamunabi have access to the blades front and center in his mind, right next to the Hishaku wanting the Kamunabi to have exactly that. They're gonna clash over this for sure. I'm just waiting for the time to come.

On character writing...

I know it's just basic storytelling and Hokazono-sensei's not the first or only author to do it so well, but I truly admire how intricately he writes characters to compliment and bounce off of each other. There are never polar opposites who are simple contrasts. Hakuri and Chihiro, Uruha and Samura- each foil pair is a pleasing blend of shared and opposing ideology and expressions that highlight each other's defining traits, bringing out both the best and worst in each other.

Also, I love all the passionate men in this series. It's so awesome to have a cast whose ages skew heavily into the 30's and 40's still be so damn fiery and hot-headed. Even more temperate ones like Kyora are so full of conviction that they put the younger generation to shame in some respects! They aren't there to just dispense sage wisdom and remind the youngsters to keep the bigger picture in mind. They're flawed people burdened with trauma living life and guiding the younger cast with the best they have. There are some major fuck-ups along the way too- like everything Kyora did to his sons, and Samura accidentally influencing Chihiro to think he's a monster. They have issues that are unconsciously passed along to keep amplifying the manga's core theme of "legacy"- how it's made and echoes through generations. I LOVE STRONG THEMATIC STORYTELLING AT EVERY LEVEL.

Guess I had a lot to yap about this time after a few lighter weeks in a row. Sorry about that, void. Thank you as always if you made it this far. Do a small act of kindness for yourself today, okay?

#kagurabachi #sazanami hakuri #long post #If Chihiro humanizes Hakuri from tool to person while Hakuri does the same for him as monster to person I will ascend into fudanshi heaven #Someone muzzle me before I embarrass myself by getting proven wrong on all of this in the next few chapters (too late)#I am very normal about Hakuri Sazanami

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