#they HAD a dynamic like they showed them talking

[millersfinest]

untethered⁴ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 11.3k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four (you’re here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18 CONTENT, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, vulgar language, some angst (not on ellie’s watch tho), fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink 2.0), r and ellie conspiring, more horndog ellie, porn w plot ig, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, ellie has a landing strip ;), emotional cheating (from ellie), maria doesn’t play w r, repressed emotions, SMUT (r and ellie fuck nasty), dryhumping (underrated af), fingering, tribbing/scissoring, oral (e! receiving), titty sucking, little bit of dirty talk (not much because i’m shit at it), sub!top!ellie (?), dom!bottom!reader (?), they flip flop you guys idk.

note: i swear i can’t write smut for the LIFE OF ME… but practice makes perfect, right? my brain stopped working halfway through writing the smut portion of this so… if you don’t think ellie is giving sub!top than… you might be onto something. anywayyy, i have sm fun writing the reader and ellie’s dynamic!!! hope you guys enjoy this lengthy freaky chapter <3 and to my new followers, i see you, i hear you, and i stalk your accounts. bisou babiessss x

After your father gently chewed you out for taking so long—must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed—him and Maria took Joel to see his surprise; little Sarah. They were gonna take care of the animal work this morning, while you showed Ellie how to manage the grocery shipments. The collection of the items produced on the farm: eggs, milk and fresh vegetables. All that good stuff.

“Please, be thorough because this is how we make our money, honey.” Maria said before she followed after the brother’s, out the back door.

You swipe the clipboard off the counter that they left for you, puffing air from your mouth. Ellie followed you out the door as you led her to a trailer that kept all the products that were packaged the night before. When you lived back home, you often did the morning chores, while they did the nightly chores—although, they helped you where they could in the mornings, because you had school.

They package the eggs, milk and vegetables, but it was your job to count everything—make sure nothing was broken or eaten by bugs or tainted by anything. It was a detail-oriented job. Then, you put everything in crates and prepare them to be taken to the local shops in town. Normally, your parents dealt with that part, but not this time.

The crisp air had smacked life into you once you stepped outside. And, it was a bit of journey from the house to the trailer. The first few minutes alone, walking toward your destination, was in silence. Partially, an awkward silence. Ellie dragged her feet behind you, feigning a level of coolness that didn’t exist for her. “So, what exactly are we doing?” She questioned, peeking over your shoulder.

You peered at her, raising an eyebrow. “We’re doing a count, and a quality check of the groceries we sell to the shops at the square…” You begin, handing her the clipboard. “So, basically, a bunch of boring shit. But, at least we get to ride downtown and deliver the stuff. It’s like a fun little field trip.” Shrugging your shoulders, you arrive at the temperature controlled trailer after several minutes of walking.

“Oh…”

“This is what you signed up for, Ellie… How does it feel?” You pulled the key from your hip, unlocking the door. Naturally, you hold the door open for her, letting her walk in before you, eyeing her slender frame hidden under her sweatshirt and jacket.

She sucked in a breath, wrapping her arms around herself. Freckled cheeks turning red from the cold temperature. “Shit,” Ellie looked to you, with her eyebrows bunched together.

“Gotta keep the groceries fresh. It’s even worse in the winter. Which is where we’re headed so… Good luck, I guess.” You place your hand on her shoulder, squeezing, gently. The other hand snatching the clipboard from her hand. Keeping your eyes trained on hers, teasingly.

Surprisingly, you composed yourself enough after what you pulled this morning. Touching yourself to the thought of your past lover—it was a filthy thing to do. But, it’s not like she knew anything; at least, you hoped she didn’t. If she did, she would’ve said something by now because she was a nuisance.

Ellie jutted her bushy eyebrows upwards, humming to herself.

“All right, so,” You began, rolling your tongue in your mouth as you read down the checklist. “We should have two hundred and fifty tomato’s, one hundred and seventy-five carrots, one hundred and ten Granny Smith apples and one hundred an’ forty honey-crisp apples—“

“Wait, I’m sorry… Are we hand counting all of these?” Ellie questioned, dumbfounded.

You chortled, placing a hand on your hip. “Uh, yeah, Ellie. This isn’t a factory.”

She scoffed, looking around at all the products around her. Cursing under her breath, pushing a piece hair behind her ear. “Continue…” Ellie sighed, squatting in front of one of the crates of tomato’s. Tossing one up in her hand, examining it. “These are some pretty sexy tomato’s.” She muttered, glancing up at you.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, dragging your finger across the checklist. “Let’s just start countin’. After each, check the list to see if the numbers match up.”

You started counting the eggs and gallons of unprocessed milk, while Ellie counted the vegetables. Later joining her with the vegetables because she was, surely, taking her time. The apples is where she found herself confused—or feigning confusion. You weren’t entirely sure, but the way she blinked at you made you consider the idea.

Perhaps, it was poor thinking on your part; locked in the cold trailer, it was inevitable for the two of you to cling to each other… For warmth. The strictness of your parents had rubbed off on you, but around her you always loosened up. Ellie was like your other half—the yin to your yang. But it always began with a luring of sorts; on her part. That's what loved about her.

Her big, earthy eyes bored into yours—penetrating you, mercilessly.

“Did you forget how to count?” You snicker, glancing between her and the fruit.

“My minds a little busy at the moment…” She sing-songed, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. There was so much insinuation in her words—you knew immediately what she was referring to. Or you were projecting like all hell.

Truth was, in those moments from her knocking on your door, to walking out in the cold to the trailer; Ellie wondered why the fuck you haven’t said anything. About the kiss, that is. The borderline makeout session that happened in that bar bathroom. What if that woman never banged on the door? What would’ve happened next? She had so many questions and curiosities that she was intending to voice.

She wasn’t mad… Just overtly interested in your thoughts beyond nobody can know about this.

You weren’t projecting at all.

Carefully, you observed her, taking in a big, deep breath. “With…?” You inquired, blinking at her, fingering the round fruits in the crate.

Ellie turned her head, slowly. “Am I allowed to speak of it while the sun’s still out?” She lightly, teased. The corners of her plump lips rising.

“Don’t be a dick.” You chuckle, narrowing your eyes. “Nobody’s around… So— speak freely, please.” Your shoulders shrugging, faking a careless demeanor.

“If you promise not to hit me…”

“Seriously?” Your features pinched, leaning back on your hands in your crisscrossed position.

She chewed on her lip. “Too soon?”

Answering her with silence was enough for her to change the subject back to what was originally intended to be talked about: the kiss.

Quickly, she recovered. “I can’t stop thinking about you— the kiss. There! I said it.” Ellie admitted, eyes searching between yours for some sort of consolation. But, she was met with none other than silence. More silence. Sprinkled with a little bit of shock—it was written all over your precious face.

Your eyebrows were stuck in a raised position, lips parted as if you heard a stranger say a foul joke over the phone. “Uhm, it’s now your turn to say: Oh, my God, Ellie! I can’t stop thinking about you, too! Let’s run away together!” She furrowed her thick eyebrows, followed by a boyish chuckle. God, that made your heart swell, then shatter.

“Fuck, Ellie… Els…” Lips gaped like a fish trying to formulate your words. That was not how she was wanting to hear you repeat fuck, Ellie—wasn’t the plan at all. Her heart completely dropped to her ass. “I don’t… Break up relationships. I’m not that kind of person. I don’t wanna be seen as that kind of person.” You explained, looking directly into her shaking eyes. Pressing your lips together, gulping, you placed your hand on her knee. “Stop thinking about me… Stop thinking about that kiss— it’s never happening again. It was a mistake.” You gently told her, with a gaze that said the complete opposite.

A mistake. That struck her like an iron ton—or like one of those comical piano’s falling from the sky. Abrupt. Unexpected.

Her lips quivered and her shoulders shrunk at your direct words. “It didn’t feel like a mistake.” Ellie muttered, clenching her jaw. “Nor did it fucking sound like one…” She followed, throwing the apple in her hand into the crate, jumping to her feet.

“Okay, can you not bruise the apple—“

“Fuck the apple…” She spoke under her breath, shutting eyes in frustration. Ellie fought the pain in her chest, inhaling and exhaling, evenly.

You looked down, pitifully. “I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be.” Ellie interrupted, shaking her head with pursed lips. “Because I don’t believe a single word that you just said.” She added, shrugging her tense shoulders.

Making a bewildered face, you stand to you feet, pushing back one of the crates you were counting from. “Well, you don’t have to believe me. Just listen to me.” You face your palms toward her, leaning forward, slightly. “I’m trying to help you, Ellie.”

She sized you up. “You think your help is what I want from you?”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, because that’s all you’re getting from me.” You told, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am not a homewrecker.”

“There isn’t a home to wreck!”

“To you, Ellie! To you there isn’t a home to wreck!” You finally raise your tired voice, ending your rushed our words with your hand over your eyes. “She worries about you, she gets two bottles of champagne because I ask for it— I’m wrecking her home, and I can’t do that. Not with a clean conscience."

A beat of silence moves through the both of you, like an elegant ribbon dancing around your stiff bodies. Trying to pull the two of you together. Ellie was standing with so much distance between you, holding herself for comfort. Cold air whistled behind your ears as you waited for some kind of response. You watched her earthy eyes search around, lip moving as she gnawed the inside of her cheek in thought. “Ellie—“ You took a step forward, reaching a hand out to comfort her.

“Did you think about that… Touching yourself to the thought of me this morning?” Ellie let the words come from her slow and full of poison, taking her time to look you in the eye. Her feet began to move, meeting you in the middle. Face to face. Chest to chest.

Words got caught in your throat as embarrassment clouded your vision and mind. “W-- What?” You stammered, frozen in your place. She was the last person you wanted to hear that; it was an accident. It just happened. Similar to that kiss you shared together. It was in her character to bring it up--you fucking knew that much, but you didn't anticipate her bringing it up so harshly.

“How would Cat feel if she found out you were fucking yourself to the idea of her girlfriend—“

“It wasn’t like that.” You tried, averting your eyes. Eyebrows pushing together, swallowing the anger building in your throat.

“Wasn’t it?” A sickening smirk spread on her lips. Chest grazing yours as she stood tall. “I heard you… Whining for me— what we did couldn’t have meant nothing.” Her voice grew gentle, hand reaching toward a warm place on your neck. Still, internally writhing with embarrassment, you let her. Leaning into her cold hand, bracing yours at the divot of her elbow.

A sigh fell from your lips, meeting her intense irises. “I never said it meant nothing.” You mumbled, breath hitching. “It just shouldn’t happen, again. We have to think of the people—“

“Can you just think about yourself for once?” Her hand slipped closer to the nape of your neck, pulling you close like you did to her. Ellie peered down at your parted lips, nearly pressing her forehead to yours. She still noticed that hesitance in your demeanor—you were talking yourself off the damn ledge. Fighting the temptation that was Ellie Williams caressing your skin. Feeling you. Tethering to you for connection.

Perhaps, there was another way she could get you to stop restraining. In order for her to give in, she needed you to decide on your own accord. Your heavy breathing wasn’t enough for her. Nor was the stressed massaging of her forearm by your desperate fingers.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone—“

“Say the word, and I’ll do as you say. Say the word... And the kiss didn’t happen…” She whispered near your lips, breathing in the air you released—which couldn’t have been healthy. Even in the face of situational rejection, she breathed you in like fresh air.

Your hand found a way to cling to her sweatshirt, bunching the material hanging around her waist. Her lips pecked the corner of your lips, moving toward your cheek, then your jaw. You leaned into her touch, whining lowly. She was suffocating in the best way. For a moment, you believed you would actually go through with it. Unable to resist her, until you spoke. “I can’t…” You mutter, with your eyes fluttered shut. But as quickly as you said it, she pulled away from you. Arms, lips—fucking everything.

There was so much hurt in her eyes, but she swallowed it down. “Please, understand.” You pleaded, automatically feeling uncomfortably cold now that her touch was gone.

“Oh, I understand, all right.” Ellie bit, dryly chuckling. She was wilting before your eyes. Just like Dina had mentioned. This is what happens to her when you’re around, and you wanted to everything to make it better. However, your morals were clouding you. The moral being: Not appearing like something you weren’t. Not even, being a homewrecker—it was worse to be seen as one, than actually being one.

Your mind was occupied by the image of her in your dreams and while you were awake—you just fought harder against it. Ellie was the exact opposite of you. She fell into you the minute she knew that she could; it was worthy of your respect in some degree. But she wasn't yours anymore. “I’m gonna go pull Tommy’s truck around…”

She swiftly left the trailer, leaving you in your abrasive thoughts. The door shut behind her and you just blinked at it. Muttering curses under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. Your memories flashing back to what it felt like to be kissed by her. It set your skin on fire—you’ve never been more in tune with someone in your life! It scared you to take a risk as grand as succumbing to someone who was spoken for.

The one thing Ellie told you about Cat was that she didn’t inspire her. And, from her first night on the farm, the artist was back engaging in her work again. Was it conceited to assume it was because of you? Clearly, something was off between the two of them. Enough for her to be looking to you for consolation. You were her muse; there were rights that you did have pertaining to Ellie. Plus, she was yours first...

Look at you, talking yourself up to resuming the treachery that was your blooming relationship with Ellie. That burning feeling you felt seeing her features drop at your rejection was like fire up the ass; a call to action. Ellie stole that level of control from you—the idea that you could succumb or pull away whenever you wanted to.

All of a sudden, you needed her more than breath itself.

Instead of waiting by the door for her like a mannequin, you finished up the counting with quickness. Checking off the list as you finished—all the products being accurately numbered.

Ellie had pulled the freight truck around, and quicker than you thought. It was as large as the smallest UHaul truck, and packing all the crates inside wasn’t much of a hassle. The auburn-haired woman stood inside the back, taking the crates from your hands to load the products inside. Fingers grazing every other crate, but Ellie made sure not to physically pay it any mind. She was playing a game that was only entertaining to herself.

She was a warm-blooded manipulator and a very good one. Ellie believed she was using her powers for good this time, though. For true love, she believes. Her gut told her that you felt just as insatiable for her as she did for you—she fucking knows it! It makes her sick that you can’t be forthright about how you feel without worrying so much. Yeah, she should probably break-up with Cat—and, mentally, she’s been planning to for months—but right now that wasn’t the priority.

She could only set her sights on two things at a time, and that was her art and you--two things that easily coincides with one another. Like mentioned before, she’ll handle the situation between her and Cat at some point. Whenever that will be.

Ellie could feel you chipping away with every chance of connection she took from you. Finger grazes. Intentional eye contact. She would flinch every time you tried to touch her, just like you did in that bathroom. Giving you a taste of your own medicine. It felt good, although, that pouty look on your face didn't let her fully revel in it.

You drove the truck downtown to drop off the goods—trading products for checks and money-orders. The drive being the worst fifteen minutes of your life. Stuck in a stuffy truck with a woman who was pissed at you. You kept glancing over at the freckled artist, hoping she’d meet your eyes just once. But her chin was rested on her fist as she looked out the window, keeping her eyes trained on the passing landmarks.

When all of the products were delivered, you started the engine with a loud huff. Disgruntled, well within your rights. But she didn’t pay you an ounce of attention until you released an exasperated sigh, halfway down the road.

“Fine, fuck, I take it back, Ellie!” You tap your thumbs around the wheel, trying to keep your eyes on the road.

She raises an eyebrow. “You take what back?” She wanted to hear you say it; a slight smirk spreading on her lips. It worked quicker than she thought it would—you must’ve wanted her bad.

You pull the truck to the side of the road, shifting in your seat to lay your eyes on her, safely. “I can’t stop thinking about you, either…” The confession pushed from your throat, leaking with solemnity. “Or the kiss— that fucking kiss.” You shut your eyes, re-living it in your mind before her.

“Well, I already knew that… I just needed to hear you say it.” She rolled her eyes, nonchalantly, leaning forward on her knees.

“Don’t get too excited… I have a proposition.” You hold your head up high, lifting your chin. Grasping for any semblance of control that you could muster. Ellie motioned her hand for you to continue, and you did. It was difficult to say, because that meant that it was real. Your sappy, horny and sickeningly romantic feelings for her were real. “I want you, and clearly, you want me, too. So… Why don’t we just get it over with?”

A grin cracked onto her face, followed by a giggle. Freckled cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. “Get it over with? Yeah, that’s totally something a woman wants to hear—“

“Ellie, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” She raised a scarred eyebrow. The woman leaned back in her seat, sliding down, spreading her legs apart. Ellie was thinking with a subtle smile that couldn’t leave her face. She was excited and beyond. “You wanna fuck me, y/n?” The auburn-haired woman looked over at you, tapping her hand against the passenger seats handles. “Or… Do you want me to fuck you—? I’m down for either, really…”

You scoff at her words, shaking your head. “I wanna make sure that… We’re not acting like this because of the thrill of it all… Old flings, and shit. Get this out of our system.”

“So, this is a one and done type’a thing?”

“Depends. We’ll find out, I guess. I’m willing to find out.” You shrug, flickering your eyes across her stunning face. If only you could start now…Instead of harping, you turn back toward the wheel.

Ellie releases a joyful laugh under her hand; excited beyond measure. There was a thrill to sneaking around, but she didn’t need that to be with you. “Wait… You consider this,” She gestures between the two of you. “An old fling? We were together for two years.”

“Semantics, Ellie.” You chuckled, starting to move the truck back onto the road.

She sucked her teeth. “Semantics my tits— there’s nothing old flingy about us. I’m literally in love with you.” Ellie scoffs, glancing out the window before realizing what she said aloud. Pausing with her fist covering her mouth.

Warmth gathered in your face, gripping the steering wheel to keep a restraint. “Y— You… You don’t have to say it back, but… Yeah, it’s true. I am in love with you…” Her voice trembled as she spoke, eyeing the side of your face. “This isn’t a thrill for me. But if you need to make sure this isn’t a thrill for you… I’m okay with that.”

Your heart bloomed, beating rapidly in your chest. If you could attack her with your lips while manning the wheel, you would. Choosing to be selfish was hard, especially, in a situation as taut as this one. Nobody could ever understand—you had be okay with homewrecking; you needed to figure this out. You wanted to figure this out.

It was easy to know that you were doing this for more than the thrill. But, you just had to make sure this was worth the backlash that would come of this. From your parents, from Cat, from your friends, from Ellie’s friends. It all had to be worth something.

“So… What’s the plan for this thing we’re doing? Is it, like, a date?”

You snickered, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t count hookups as dates. We’re gonna treat this like a one night stand… For now, at least.” You take in a breath before continuing. “My parents should be in their rooms by ten-thirty, Joel by nine— correct me if I’m wrong…”

“You’re right.” Ellie agrees, nodding her head. Peering over at you with glimmering irises.

“I’ll come get you from the back porch at eleven-forty-five— no earlier, no later.”

“This sounds like we’re about make the greatest heist known to man.” She joked, chuckling to herself.

You hummed, glancing at her, briefly. “I mean, I am stealin’ you for a night, aren’t I?”

Her cheeks immediately blushed at your words, but she looked off to the door window to hide. Pupils dilating with excitement, chewing on her bottom lip. Planning to have sex was such a juvenile thing to do—something that you used to do when you were horny teenagers. Orchestrating around your parents, sneaking around, quickies left and right. It was silly, but it had to be done; according to you, at least. And who was Ellie to object? She would do anything to feel you again.

Pulling up to your house, you parked the truck in its usual place. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get around Cat?” You question, loosely. Somehow without that guilt that’s been creeping up your bones, imbedding into your veins.

She ran a hand through her hair, nodding with pursed lips. “Oh, she’ll be easy.” Ellie shrugged, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Your lips pull into a tight, slightly stressed smile. The artist across from you narrowed her earthy eyes, taking your hand from where she sat, leaning forward. Ellie was prepared to say some uplifting words, but she forfeited that idea as soon as her lips prepped to speak. Instead, she stood up, pulling you to the back of the truck. Where the clear windows couldn’t expose the absolute crime that the two of you were—walking moral felonies.

Her hand clenched yours, coming to stop in the dark. Your hand creeped up her forearm, pressing yourself close enough to her to be irresistible. Ellie reached for your jaw, not wasting any time to press her lips against yours. Her lips were soft and longing; as if she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. Your hands braced at her hips, pushing hers against yours—but, she still tried to take the lead. Tongue grazing your bottom lip as an ask to intrude your mouth.

Ellie wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to change your mind. She must've not have known you as well as you thought, because you most definitely weren’t.

The feeling of her fingers creeping around your throat made you pull away. Looking at her in the dimly lit darkness of the back of the truck. Pupils dilated, completely under her spell. And she thought you were the compelling one. “Do you have any resolve?” A smile spread onto your wet, shiny lips.

“Nope!” She grinned, leaning into you for more.

Turning your face, you laughed. “Save some for later, you freak.” Ellie kissed your cheek, then kissed it again; holding your face in her hands like a delicate object. “Ellie!” You giggled, holding onto her wrists. “We can’t camp out in this truck… They’ll start asking questions.”

“Ugh, I know…” Ellie finally pulled back, but she held onto your hand because she had to be tethered to you in some way. “Do you think we’ll have any time together before later?” She was such a romantic to her core.

“Probably, not. I have to help my mom prep some food for tomorrow… I promised.” You massaged her palm with your thumb, kissing her knuckles like it was something you did all the time. It was certainly something you wouldn't mind doing all the time. “Be patient for me, yeah?”

“I can try…” Ellie pouted, rolling her eyes.

“Eleven-forty-five… You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Just a few hours. You can make it.” You finalized before walking back to the front of the truck to exit. But not without winking in her direction, leaving her in the dark. Stuck in a paralyzed trance: You’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Was this some sort of dream?

This was really happening.

The rest of the day was spent getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. You helped Maria prep her biscuit dough, and marinade for the ham. As well as cutting fruit for the pie Ellie and Joel were planning on making tomorrow. It felt domestic preparing things for her and Joel--just like you used to do. Sometime during that period, Tommy and Ellie took off to the butcher shop to grab some steak—because what was a Miller’s Thanksgiving without options?

And, weirdly enough, Cat joined you and your mother in the food prep. Which totally messed up your domestic fantasy of family cooking.

She snacked on the apple’s you chopped, leaning against the corner. “Have you ever tried her apple pie?” Cat asked, taking one of the other slices that you placed on a napkin in front of her. You were trying to be nice here. “Ellie is such a great cook.” She mused, dusting her hands on the fabric of her pajama pants.

You chuckled, rinsing off the bulk of the apple slices in the deep sink. “A long time ago… It’s pretty good.”

Maria chuckled, mixing spices and seasoning into her honey ham marinade. “Bug’s a harsh critic, too. So if she says it’s good, then it’s good.”

“She does the whole sugar crumble thing. It really sets it off.” You add, dropping the sliced apples into plastic tupperware to put in the fridge.

Cat hummed, pushing a piece of her slick black hair behind her ear. “Good to know. I guess I have something to look forward to— as well as your cooking Mrs. Miller.” She complimented, sharing a friendly smile. With your head still facing the fridge, you couldn’t have rolled your eyes harder. She was so sweet it made you sick. Champagne bottles mocking you as you emotionally rejected the girl in your kitchen.

“Is there anything I could help out with?”

“No, I don’t think—“

“Of course, hon. Would you mind taking that cornbread out of the oven?” Maria interrupted you, casting you a glare that only you could notice. Jutting your eyebrows up, you scoff under your breath. She hands her mittens from a drawer to aid in the removal of the glass pan.

Sighing, you watch her remove the cornbread—the one you were going to use for stuffing. “I’m gonna go take a smoke break…” You mutter, already pushing through the front screen door.

Soon after you pulled out your pack of yellow American Spirits, placing a stick between your teeth, your mother had followed you out. With her veiny hands on her hips, staring at you like you committed some sort of crime. Upon seeing her face, you lit the end of your cigarette, jutting your eyebrows up.

“What is going on with you?” She asserted, glancing at the cigarette between your lips with disgust. Maria never liked that you smoked; she knew how bad they were for you, but you didn’t have much of a reason to care. You didn’t care when you were young, and you surely didn’t now. For a brief moment, when you and Ellie were together, you smoked less. But, after that, you picked up like you never stopped.

You puffed the smoke away from her, holding the cigarette between your index and middle finger. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Uh, you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about? You think I didn’t hear all that heavy breathin’ in there?” Maria raised an eyebrow.

“Maria,”

“Don’t Maria me.” She inhaled, pointing an authoritative finger at you. “I can’t control who you like, but that girl in there is a guest in our home— and she will be treated with respect.” The blonde woman told as you leaned your head to the side like a rebellious teen. “All that sighin’ is for the birds.”

You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Heard. Yes, ma’am.”

Her bright eyes softened, watching you take puffs from the stick between your fingers. “I know it’s hard to see. I understand that. But we’re not always gonna like everything— I’m sure you know that, though.”

“Yeah,” You breathe, peering at your mother.

“Why don’t you invite that Abby girl to dinner tomorrow? Ellie told us she took you home the other night.” She offered, nudging you, playfully. Record fucking scratch.

Why on earth would Ellie mention Abby to her parents? Where would she even find the time to do that? A deep sigh fell from your lips, but you covered it with a smile. “You know, what? That’s a great idea, mom. I’ll text her. See if she has any plans…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This generation and their texting— give her a call, honey. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Maria squeezed your shoulder before dipping back into the house. You leaned your elbows on the bannister, hinging at your hips. Ellie telling your parents about Abby wasn’t going to put a damper on the plans tonight—however, she was going to pay for that. Stubbing out your cigarette, you snatched your cell from your hip. Decorative chain dangling from the headphone port.

Your thumb flicked open the screen, and you began to search through your contacts looking for Abs. Perhaps, you should call her—to really make the sentiment stick. After all, she was the one asking when she was going to see you again.

You clicked the call button on your keyboard, placing it on your ear. The line trilled and trilled, until a muffled sound signaled that she had picked up. “Abigail Anderson,” She greeted, as if she didn’t know it was you. But you could hear the smile in her voice.

“How formal, Abs.” She chuckled on the other end. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“You mean on Thanksgiving? Yeah, I wouldn’t be in this middle-of-nowhere town if I didn’t.” She paused, shuffling on the other end of the line. Like she was shifting in her bed or something. “Why? You wanna do somethin’?” Her voice leaked with innuendo, and it actually made your stomach churn; like you were doing something wrong.

Sighing, you turned your back against the bannister. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow… My family and I aren’t gonna eat all this food ourselves— we could use a helping hand.”

“Meeting the parents? I don’t know…”

You chortled. “It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“I said I’ll help Owen’s family with food prep… But, I should have some time to stop by.”

Yes!

“Okay, just keep me updated if anything changes.”

“I’d never leave you hangin’.”

“Right… Buh bye.” You shut the phone before she has the chance to respond. Releasing a sigh of relief. Oh, and just in time for Tommy and Ellie to pull into the gravel driveway.

You peered over your shoulder, coolly. With your bare arms wrapped around your body for warm. You watch as Tommy and Ellie hop out the truck with paper bags in his hands and two packs of beer in Ellie’s—they don’t need that much beer. But, it was a nice sight to see them laughing together. “Where’s Joel?” You question, deepening your eyebrows.

“He’s picking up a new guitar for tomorrow!” Your father responded, approaching the porch. Ellie following close behind him, looking through her lashes at you as she stepped up the wooden steps.

“Hey, Ellie.” You greeted, pressing your lips into a smile. A no strings attached smile.

“Hey, y/n.” She dragged the hey a bit longer than she should have, passing you. Tommy pulling open the screen door, holding it with his foot. But, you didn’t let her pass. Stepping in front of her with a playful smirk on your lips.

Eyeing the packs of canned and glass-bottled beer in her hands. “I hope there’s some wine or coolers in that truck a’ yours…”

She nervously chuckled, causing the blond man to raise an eyebrow. Cheeks raising and blushing. “I only have two hands. There’s two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc in there. Door’s unlocked.”

You smiled, unintentionally ogling her as she stepped passed Tommy to go inside. By the time your eyes ascended, you caught his skeptical blue ones. “I’ll go get the wine…” You mutter, trotting off the porch.

And that’s what you did. Trotted off to get the wine from Ellie’s truck. She was right, there were two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for you, and a rack of wine coolers. They spoiled you. Shutting the door with your hip, you walked back inside the house to place the items on the counter.

You didn’t notice the sight of Ellie clinging onto Cat—or it could’ve been the other way around—until you gave the room a once over. Tommy was giving Maria a chaste kiss on the forehead, chuckling against her skin. And, Ellie had her arms wrapped around Cat’s neck, pushing her into her chest. Her tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, laughing into her. That should've been you holding her like that.

It burned like all hell. And, frankly, it pissed you off on the lowest degree.

Catching a glimpse of Cat’s dark, almond eyes, you flinched. They weren’t sweet anymore, they reflected a level of competitiveness you have yet to see from her. It was completely and utterly random. Has she caught on? Did Ellie say something? Worry bunched in your eyebrows, but you averted your eyes.

Suddenly, you felt the need to write. Work on that chapter you started the other day.

“Hey, I’ll be upstairs… Gotta get some words outta my head.” You tapped your father’s arm as you passed him to head upstairs to your bedroom. “Call me if you need anything.” The words rush out of your mouth, before jog up the slippery wooden stairs.

When you shut yourself in your room, you fell onto your unmade bed, screaming into your pillow. Clutching the feather-filled sack with so much vigor, it could've popped in your grasp. That one glance had made the actions you were planning to do make a lot more sense, and you didn't feel as bad. You didn’t care if you were perceiving it wrong. There was always an inkling that Cat wasn’t as perfect and sweet as she let on. Why would she ever add her girlfriend’s ex on MySpace, anyway? Was she crazy? Most definitely.

You pulled out your computer to do as you said, opening your developing documents. Instead of focusing on the possessive eyes of Ellie’s girlfriend, you focused on your work—because, above all else, that was most important.

Eventually, Ellie went back to the guesthouse. Leaving Cat behind, since she was having so much fun around Maria and Tommy. It felt weird leaving her behind in a house that wasn’t familiar to her—mainly because the house was yours. Ellie knew you didn’t like her, but she wanted to finish the portrait she was working on. And she could only do that when her girlfriend was either occupied with work, sleep or pure mindlessness.

She tied a oil paint-stained apron around her neck and waist, before sitting down before her easel. She flipped over the breathable sheet she hung over it to protect the identity of the model. Then, she began painting—filling in the deep colors of the shed, then adding highlights to your painted frame. You were the first silhouette she added color to on the piece.

Time didn’t wait for either you—slipping by like it didn’t even exist. It was around eleven when you began searching for something cute to wear for Ellie. For Ellie—that was such weird thing to think about. There was old lacy nightgown that you used to wear, but the hems showed that you wore it to the ground. After a lot of shifting through drawers, you decided on a lacy pair of cheeky underwear and no bra—you could never go wrong with that. And, of course, a pair of boxer shorts and a large gray t-shirt. It was no sexy set from Victoria Secret, but it would do.

Ellie had always been a simple girl, just as much as you. She preferred nakedness over anything, anyway.

For the next twenty minutes, you pulled your legs up by your reading nook, scanning the pages of a hardcover book. It was a classic—something you were obligated to read in high school. You always loved books like that. Victorian. Regency. It was all so romantic.

The next time you glanced at the alarm clock on your beside table, it was eleven-forty-one. Meaning it was time to make your way down the stairs, checking for any lingering presences on your way.

Just like you thought, Joel and your parents were in their bedrooms. The kitchen was completely down for the night. The only light that was on was above the clean, silver gas stove. Shuffling toward the back porch, you cut the light on to check if Ellie was out there—and she was. With her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants, hoodie over her head to keep her ears warm. They were matching tones of a light gray.

Opening the wooden door, you pushed open the screen door, eyeing her slender frame hidden under all that cotton. “Is this your incognito costume or…?” A smile pulling onto your lips. She narrowed her eyes at you, walking in with a slight sway in her shoulders. Ellie was illuminating with the confidence of someone who was about to get laid. The skip in her step didn't go unnoticed.

“Everyone’s asleep?” She questioned, swinging her arms at her side, waiting for you to shut the doors behind you.

Shutting off the porch light, you turn back to her, nodding. “Yeah. Just like I anticipated.” You watched her pull off the hoodie, mussing up her damp auburn hair. Olive eyes looking for you in the dark, expectantly. You take her hand with both of yours, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Come on,” You whispered, sweetly. Voice honeyed with anticipation and excitement. Fucking hell! Neither of you could believe that you were doing this.

“Be careful. The old wood creaks.”

“I know…”

Ellie followed behind your steps exactly, as you were trying to evade all the extra cracking from the staircase. It wasn’t a perfect journey from the first floor to the second, as some creaks couldn’t be evaded. But, nonetheless, you pulled her to your bedroom. Her hand growing clammy in yours, but you didn’t care.

As you shut the door behind you, Ellie began to look around your room. Noticing how it hadn’t changed much since the last time she was in there. The posters may have been different, but they were still there, barely peeling from the dull pink walls. And, hell, the catwoman figurines on your dresser were still in place. Collecting dust just like the sum of her own collectables at Joel’s place.

When she noticed you staring at her, the heart in her chest began to wildly beat in her ears. Her cheeks flushing a bright red, eyeing your frame.

You harbored a level of nervousness, but you were ready. Thinking in a happy medium of logic and emotion, you wanted to feel her. It was borderline nostalgic to the first time you were with her so intimately.

“This feels so formal.” Ellie walks up to you, placing her hands at your hips. Feeling the ridges of the waistline of your boxers over your long t-shirt. “Worse than a one night stand…” She chuckles, inspecting your features with anxiety. The moment she’s been wholly desiring was within her fingers, but her nervosa was getting the best of her.

You pressed your lips into a smile, placing one hand over hers on your hip, and the other on her cheek. She nuzzled into your touch, searching for comfort. It wasn’t hard to find, either. Since your thumb caressed her freckled skin—palm exuding nothing but warmth. “It doesn’t have to…” You began, voice purring. “This can be whatever you want it to be.”

Finding the softness of her throat to be alluring, you waste no time pressing your lips against her jaw. “Whatever you want it to be, Els.” You repeat against her skin, trailing down to her neck. Slowly plotting your lips against her throat, pushing soft breaths from her. Fingers squeezing at your hips, pressing them against hers. It was natural for you to take the lead with her—she was so bashful at times.

She’d spend the day tempting you with big eyes and deep kisses, only to turn to absolute putty in your hands when you took it to the next level.

Her body trembled under your touch, but the more she leaned into you the more relaxed she became. Your hand began to imbed itself into her hair, tips of your fingers grazing her scalp. A shaky sigh, borderline moan, came from her parted lips, legs wobbling to keep her standing on her feet. Did Cat ever make her feel this way? You were barely touching her and she was already making so much noise.

Tugging at her sweatshirt, you eyed her. “Take this off.” You breathily commented, sliding your hands under it. Quickly, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a tight tank top, shaggy bangs spreading over her face. You push the strands from her eyes, glancing at her lips. Ellie dropped the sweatshirt at her feet, locked in a trance.

Your eyes glaze over in awe at her flushed features and expanded pupils. Drifting your middle finger over the beauty mark under left eye, drinking her in. “You’re so beautiful, Ellie.” Your voice wasn’t any higher than whisper, analyzing her twitching features. Her hand reached for your wrist, pulling it to plant her lips up your forearm.

“Says… You…” She speaks between each kiss, looking at you through her thick eye lashes.

A giggle sounds from you, watching her worship your skin, leading all the way back to your lips. Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, you get as close to her as you can. Her tongue timidly entered your mouth, causing you to release a moan of approval and affirmation.

She walks you toward your bed. The end of the mattress catching the back of your knees, causing you to fall. Keeping your eyes locked with hers, you scoot back into the middle of the bed. Ellie dropping her knees onto the mattress, crawling up to meet you. She pushed your shoulders down, collapsing atop of you to meet your lips again. Slotting her thigh between your legs, pulling up your shirt.

Her cool hand grazing over your ribs, just under your breast that hadn’t yet been exposed. Hips rolling against your thigh, sweats bunching in her crotch. “Fuck,” She groaning in your mouth, clenching the material of your shirt in her hands. Her sexual frustration beginning to take over. “I need you so bad, baby.” She whines, lips trailing to your jaw, nipping at you skin with her teeth.

One hand latched onto her hip, the other bracing on the mattress as you flipped her over. Positioning yourself on top of her, straddling her boney hips. Her wide earthy eyes peering up at you, full of desire. Boldly, you crossed your arms to pull the loose top from your body, throwing it across the room. “You have me...”

Slender fingers gripped your hips as you began to grind yourself on her. Breasts moving with every roll of your waist. Ellie reached a hand up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple with her thumb and the side of her finger. Abruptly, she sat up to plot her lips across your warm collarbones. Leading to where she could wrap her lips around the same sensitive nipple she was playing with.

A low gasp fell from your lips, falling into her, gripping the roots of her hair. “Ellie…” You sigh, rolling your eyes back—finding yourself overcome by her touch. You were trying to tease her, rubbing yourself against her like an animal in heat. But, you were just as greedy as her.

“Keep going…” She muttered against your skin, gripping the front of your boxer shorts and underwear. “Please. You look so fuckin' hot like this."

Her words shot right to your pussy, urging you to grind yourself against her harder. “Fuck… Ellie.” You cursed with your face in her hair, smelling the sweetness you craved. Her lips spread into a smile, hearing the words she's been waiting to hear. She nips your nipple with her teeth, before laying back down onto her back.

Bracing your hands on her stomach, you increase in speed, whimpering from the lack of skin to skin contact. The both of you restrained yourself when it came to noise—this was still forbidden. Something nobody other than yourselves could bare to witness and experience. But the squeak of your old bed frame knocking against the wall gave it away to peeving ears.

The brushing of you against her clothed clit, made her pant for you. Holding onto your hips, making you go as fast as you possibly could—gripping the fat of your ass through your shorts. Watching you shut your eyes in concentration, using her; trying to reach a high that she wanted to be the reason for.

She flipped you over, causing you to let out some combination of a gasp and giggle. Sprawling your arms beside your head, laying over your pillows and stuffed animals. Her earthy eyes glanced at them, picking one up. “You sure you want ‘im here for this?” Her long fingers squeezed the stuffed teddy bear.

You narrowed your eyes, wrapping your legs around her hips. “Nothin’ he hasn’t already seen.” Taking the bear from her hands, you toss him over the bed, pulling her down with insatiable desire. “C’mere,” You purr, bringing her down to your lips. Sloppily, you merge your lips together. One of your hands pulling up the white tank top that clung to her toned abdomen.

She obliged to your movements, briefly separating from your lips to remove her top. Freeing her small perky breasts. Connecting her lips back to yours, she groaned at the contact of your skin. Finding herself more intoxicated by you the more to she felt you, touched you, tasted you.

Trailing her lips down your jaw, to your soft throat—nibbling and sucking—then, to your heated chest; her hand was her guide. Slipping down your body before her lips did, tugging at the shorts and underwear that clung to you. They had to go! Her determined irises looked up at you while she licked her tongue around your areola before sucking your erect nipple into her mouth. Ellie was really making a show of it.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” Her voice was silken, moving to your other breast to give her some attention. “Prove to you… How real this is?” Instead of continuing to tug on your shorts, she slipped her hand inside. Her soft touch making you jump at the feeling of the pads of her fingers, spreading your folds.

Locking your eyes with hers, furrowing your brows, you nodded, feverishly. “Uh huh,” You breathed, rolling your hips against her touch. It was like you could feel the effects of her spreading through your muscles—as they tightened and loosened. Wilted flower, she was no more, playing with your dripping core. Marveling at how wet you were; it was surreal.

Ellie pulled back, sitting up on her knees. Her fingers hooked into your bottoms, yanking both your shorts and underwear down. You pouted, clamping your legs shut. She completely missed out on seeing the only cute lace number that you had. “I wanted you to see those.” You whined, peering up at her with a pair of eyes that just screamed: fuck me!

She kissed both of your knees before spreading them open, chewing on her lips at the sight of your glistening cunt. “I’ll see ‘em later.” You were so appetizing to look at—naked as the day you were born, clenching and trembling for her. She couldn't care less about the lacy number that was separating you from her. Ellie faltered for a moment, unsure where to start. That confidence that shot through her like a syringe of adrenaline was already fading.

When it came to sex, she always knew what to do—it was simple. At least with Cat it was. But, this was you she was working with. Her first love who was managing to give her a second chance after fucking everything up—she couldn’t mess this up. “Tell me what you want from me, baby.” She told, voice, slightly shaking. “Please.”

You furrowed you eyebrows, finding her nervousness endearing. Taking her hand, while keeping her eyes embraced by yours, you place her hand over your throbbing pussy. “I want you here…” You release a breath that comes from your diaphragm. Adding fuel to fire, you began rolling against her palm. “I wanna feel you…” Taking your other hand, you pull her down to speak in her ear. “Inside of me.” You moaned, airily, getting lost in the touch that you orchestrating. Pushing your head back into the fluffy pillows lining your headboard.

Her arms weakened, falling atop of you. She situated herself, straddling one of your legs to keep them open. Scissoring your clit with her middle and ring finger, warming you up before she inserted a finger into your weeping slit. Exhaling, shakily, at the feeling of your tight walls gripping her middle finger—you basically sucked her in.

Plotting your lips along her jaw, you couldn’t suppress expressions of pleasure that trickled from your mouth. Moaning against her pale, freckled skin as she curled her fingers inside you at a sickeningly slow pace. “Fast— ah… Faster, Els.”

She locked her eyes with yours, ingesting that blissed look on your features. “I wanna take my time with you…” Ellie kissed your lips, savoringly. “Wanna remember every sound, every look on that pretty face…” She kissed you, again. Deeper and full of unbridled passion. You could’ve came right there, looping your arm around her neck, trying to find something to hold onto.

Her touch lit your body on fire, and still, tried to restrain the sounds you made because of it. Sweat beaded in the crevices of you body, but she licked it up like sweet saccharine fruit juice. Truly, you believed she’d be at your mercy, writhing underneath you—first, at that! But, the minute you guided her, letting her know that you really wanted her; she completely gave in. Making you the one to writhe and call out for her.

Her firm ministrations felt like hours, adding another finger, brushing that spongey place inside of you enough to cause endless shaking and trembling. Borderline convulsing. There was such love in her eyes, watching you yelp and whine for her. Not even her sloppy, filthy kisses could completely hide the sounds you were making.

Clenching her hair in your hands, you felt your walls clenching around her fingers. “Fuck, Ellie… Just like that.” You whisper, proceeding it with guttural moan against her skin. The sound of your wetness filling your ears, pushing you closer to that edge. “Jus— ah f-fuck.” You cursed, rolling your hips against her.

Focusing her olive eyes on your face, she rolled your clit with her thumb. Making you grip the pillow behind your head with one hand, while your other gripped her hair hard enough to cause her a bit of pain. She whined at your touch, unable to look away from you. Freezing the frame of your mouth parted, making an ‘O’ shape, as she made love to you.

When that knot snapped in the pit of your stomach, she jumped to swallow your loud moans. Still, fucking her fingers into you to ride out your high. Your free leg snapping shut, clamping her fingers between the strength of your thighs. She pulled her fingers from your cunt, leaning back from your lips to eye the slick surrounding her fingers. Licking from the base of them, she sucked them into her mouth.

You watched her in awe, rubbing your legs together, still throbbing for her. Ellie was an absolute pervert when it came do you—could you get anymore turned on? She had no resolve, just like she said. You smash your lips against hers, growling at the taste of yourself. Your fingers begin to yank at her sweats, with the remaining amount of strength you have. “Why are these still on?”

“Because you didn’t take ‘em off.” She panted against your skin, falling back onto her back.

You chortled, pulling the pants from her hips. Musing at the striped boyshorts that clung to her, ogling the wet spot that seeped through the cloth. Your fingers lightly rubbed over the spot, grazing her erect clit on purpose accident. Her hips bucked up at you, a soft sigh leaving her parted lips. “These are cute.” You say before pulling them down her legs, flicking them off the side of the bed. “That’s me acknowledging your effort. See how easy that was?"

“I did acknowledge your effort…” Ellie whined, feeling your soft lips against her chest leading to her breasts. When you sucked her nipple into you mouth, pinching the other, she gasped. You hummed against her, slotting your leg between hers. She couldn’t help but grind herself against your thigh, groping your ass in the process.

Switching to the other lonesome breast, popping the right from your lips, you spoke. “No worries, baby, I forgive you.”

Impatiently, she humped your leg, panting under you as you suckled on her. Slowly, moving down her toned abdomen—licking and nibbling on her freckled skin. As if she were some sweet dessert on a silver platter all for you; taking your time. Popping your lips from her, you pressed her hips into the mattress. Ceasing her needy thrusts. “It’s my turn now, Els. Gotta be patient f’me. Can you do that?” You look up at her through your lashes, grinding against her glistening cunt.

Similar to how one would dangle a treat before a puppy—to get them to do what you want.

Her scarred eyebrow furrowed, nodding her head, feverishly. “Uh huh... Yeah,” Ellie’s breath hitched in her throat, watching you trail your lips closer to where she really wanted you.

She spread her legs for you, as you kissed around her mauve pussy. Gripping her firm thighs, prolonging that feeling of anticipation. Ellie threw her head back into the pillows, groaning in frustration. But she knew she couldn’t rush you—you never liked to be rushed.

Leaning your head on the inside of her thigh, you ran a finger through her wet folds, snickering to yourself. Did Cat ever make you this wet? You thought, sliding her slick over her clit.

“Never…” Ellie responded, leaning on her elbows looking down at you between her legs. You paused, not realizing that you said your thoughts aloud. Her swollen lips pulled into a shit-eating smirk; she was egging you on. It was villainous, nefarious even, to bring up her girlfriend during this moment. That may have not been your intention, but Ellie couldn’t have cared less.

All she cared about was how your fingers played with her, dredging moans from the lowest parts of her stomach. Making her have to cover her mouth with her tattooed forearm--Cat never made her do that. Not often, anyway.

You slung one of her legs over your shoulder, pushing the other against the mattress—diving into her cunt with your tongue. She was just as sweet as your remembered, like tree sap, and you sucked her up as such. Switching between thrusting your tongue into her hole, and suckling her clit; popping it from your mouth like it was candy.

She writhed because of your touch, lifting her hips off the bed as if she wanted to get away from you—but both of you knew that wasn’t true. You just pressed harder into her, making out with her pussy. Time was nothing but a construct to you between her legs; you had all the time in the world to make her feel good. Fingers grazing the strip of auburn hair leading to where your lips met—a landing strip.

You couldn’t have been happier, pleasing her so!

Sweet, pitchy moans came from her, the ones that slipped from around the forearm she bit—trying to be mindful. But, when you slipped two fingers into her, keeping your lips wrapped around her throbbing bud, a high-pitched shriek released. You moaned into her pussy, fluttering your eyes shut at the sounds she was making. It was music to your ears.

Feeling her eyes on you, half-lidded and dark than usual, you look up. “S— So fucking g— good… Uh!” She stammered, breathing heavily as she neared her climax. Collecting spit in your mouth, you dribbled it from your mouth. A glob of saliva mixed with her cum falling onto her blushing bud. Ellie moaned your name in a way that sent chills down your spine. Curling your hips into the mattress.

Her inner walls tighten around your curling fingers, letting you know that she was close. But that’s when you pulled away, massaging her tense thigh. Ellie sobbed, banging her fist against the bed. “You’re being such an asshole, baby. Nothing's every straight forward with you." She complained, rolling her hips against nothing as you switched positions.

Baby, baby, baby… You loved when she called you that. Even when you were the one calling the shots.

“Am I really…?” You breath, crawling up her body. Intertwining your legs, your pulsating buds meeting at the center of you.

“Ngh…” She whined at the contact, looking between the middle of your glistening bodies. “You're fuck-- fucking insane... Uh...” Ellie pleaded, words breaking up as you began rutting against her. Her wide eyes looking up at you as a grin stretched onto your lips; riding her into next fucking week.

Gripping onto her thigh, juices mixing at the center of you. You lifted her leg over your shoulder, surprising yourself with how flexible she was. Sloppily, you dragged your lips against her calf, unable to hold the sounds of pleasure coming from your throat.

“F— Fuck, yeah… Yeah!” Her orgasm hit her like a ton, causing her to shake under your quick rutting. Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of her climax, sucking in a taut breath—not realizing that you weren’t stopping.

She began to squirm under you, gripping your thigh, trying to push you off. Whining and sobbing, but when you leaned down, hooking her leg under your arm—pressing your chest against hers, delicately kissing her flushed freckled skin; Ellie held onto you. One hand supporting your rutting hips, the other gripping your hair; moaning and breathing into your ear as a personal boost.

Although, she was overstimulated, she begged you to kiss her. “Please, kiss me— I wanna kiss you, baby…” Ellie babbled, wanting that intimacy of skin to skin—she wanted nothing but your lips as you came undone; just like the first time.

The rhythm of your hips began to falter, hinting at your release. Inhaling, sharply, you whined against her lips. Finally slowing your hips down to a sensual roll. You released her leg, settling comfortably between her thighs—lazily making out with her. Her hands cradled your back, holding you with a sort of gentleness only she could harbor.

She began to pepper kissing at the corner of your lips, toward your cheek. It was innocent and full of… Love.

This wasn’t for the thrill of anything but reuniting with a first love again.

Your eyes were shut, melting into her sweet touch. “Ellie,” You chanted, furrowing your brows. Uh oh. “Ellie,” You repeated, trying to get her attention.

“Mhm.” She answered, finding your eyes with her round ones. Looking up at you like you were the only woman in the world. Despite all of what you just did, there was so much innocence in her deep, evergreen eyes.

Your features grew hot under her gaze, eyes welling up with hearty tears. Lips quivering, working a sob up in your throat. Crawling off of her, you stuff your face into your pillows—trying to cover up the embarrassment that was crying after sex.

The only thrill that was apparent was your love for her. She made your heart jump and skip a beat—nobody else could do that. You thought that hooking up would’ve made things easier, but it was the total opposite; things just got so much harder because now there’s so much more to hide.

“Woah,” Ellie turned on her side, reaching for you as you hid from her. Her hands massages your shoulders and caressed your skin to soothe you. “Sex with me is so bad that I made you cry?” She rasped, chuckling under her breath, joking.

You peer over your shoulder, sniffling. “What? No. No, Ellie, you were perfect— more than perfect.” Gaining some courage, you turned on your side to face her. And, Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you, or her hands.

Lightly, she collided the palm of her hand with the side of your ass, squeezing your warm flesh. “Then, what’s the problem? You know I don’t like seeing you cry…” She spoke, wiping away the tears that were staining your cheeks.

Seeing how gentle she was with you only made you want to cry more—sob into her actually. “It’s just… When you leave my room tonight… You’re going back to her— to Cat.” You mutter, holding onto her wrist that connected to your face. “I’m being selfish, Els— just like you wanted. I don’t want you to go back to her.”

She scooted closer to you, looping her arms around your neck. “I thought you were going to reject me, again.” Ellie chortled, placing a chaste kiss on your nose. You rolled your eyes, leaning into her arm. “You know, for your appearance and shit—“

“Ellie, shut up. I’m trying to be serious.”

That lovely boyish laugh came from her as she tucked her head into your neck. Clinging to you like a bear holding onto a stiff tree. Ellie had always been a bit of a cuddle bug. “I’m being serious, too. But… Go on, babe.”

You dragged your fingers along her back, causing her to shift a little bit. She was awfully ticklish. “I thought we were done for good after your seventeenth— I thought I stopped loving you because of it… I guess that isn’t true, like, at all.” You scoffed at yourself, nuzzling more into your touch. Squeezing your eyes shut as if she were going to slip from you. However, Ellie wasn’t planning on going anywhere—whether you were on top of her, beside her; hell, across the fucking room! She wasn’t going anywhere.

Tears began to well into your eyes again as you clutched her. “I’m so sorry for hitting you, Ellie. I’m so sorry.” You weeped into her shoulder, allowing her warmth to nurse you. “I shouldn’t have done it… I wish I could take it back." You couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if that never happened. Would the two of you still be together?

“It’s okay… I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Listen, hey,” She pulled back to meet your trembling eyes, still finding ways to wipe your tears. “I know you like the back of my fucking hand. You would’ve never done that if I didn’t say what I said— I should be the one saying I’m sorry. And, I am very sorry.” She spoke from the heart, as your hearts held each other—chest to chest you were; skin to skin. It was all so intimate.

A smile spread on your swollen lips, pushing pieces of her hair behind her ear. “If it makes you feel any better… Joel adopting me is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” She leaned in toward your lips, peering at them, entranced. “The other was meeting you.” Her lips met yours, kissing them languidly. You opened up for her, allowing her to explore your mouth with the utmost of trust. Running your hands along her scalp, tugging.

She was such a charmer. The truest of charmers—full of nothing but endearment.

“Are you gonna break up with Cat—?” You pulled back, only a few inches from her face. “That’s not a question, actually… I need you to break up with her.” The truth was, after this spontaneous little hook up, you’ve come to the conclusion of a fundamental truth: Ellie was yours, and you didn’t want to share. First dibs, right?

“I mean, now wouldn’t be the best time. But, I do plan on breaking up with her— how else could I spend more time with you?” She attempted to smooth her words over.

You stiffen, scooting back a bit more to see her. “Okay, so… Can I get a timeline, Ellie?”

The artist sighed, averting her eyes. “I don’t know a timeline, right now— after Thanksgiving? I don’t know.” A wrinkle formed between her thick eyebrows, responding to your charged words. Her tone leaked with defense and it pinched a nerve within you.

“You don’t know?” You questioned, weakly. Quickly, you parted completely from her, swinging your legs over your bed. This wasn’t going to be a mistress situation—you refused for it to be that.

She called your name, sitting up on her elbow and forearm. “Baby, don’t be like that—“

“I’m not being like anything, baby.” You mock her, standing up to walk over to the shirt you threw to the side. Ellie couldn’t help but ogle your naked frame, sitting up the bed. She even watched you slide on those lace panties she barely noticed before.

“Hey! I was gonna keep those!”

“You snooze, you lose—“ You pick up her clothes, tossing them in her direction. “Get dressed, Ellie.”

Your demeanor had completely changed; it hardened because of her uncertainty. Ellie had been planning to break up with Cat for a long time, but now the pressure was on. Believe it or not, she didn’t want to drop a bomb on her partner during the holiday’s—and they still lived together. Certain arrangements had to be made before she could just break it off. She wanted to be with you, only you, but there was still a lot to think about.

You stand with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow. “Get dressed, please. We have a long day tomorrow-- actually, today.” You gestured you hand: Hurry up, after correcting yourself, glancing at the alamr clock. It was one-something in the morning. Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. She slid on her sweatpants, purposely leaving her boxer shorts behind—slyly tucking them under your pillow. Maintaining eye contact, she pulled her tank top on, attempting to do that thing she always did—lure.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me, y/n…” She pouted, meandering toward you. Placing her hands on your hips, pulling you flush against her. “You can’t possibly want me to break up with her on Thanksgiving.”

“I didn’t say to break up with her today, but an estimated time would suffice.” You assert. “I’m not some side chick, or— or some mistress, whore, or whatever.”

She nodded, pursing her lips, squeezing your hips as an affirmation of want. “You’re right. You’re not any of those things. But Cat and I live together and a good portion of my stuff is under her care— I can’t just break up with her all willy nilly."

“Wow, so now you’re being super thoughtful.” You roll your eyes, scoffing.

Ellie chortled. “I guess you could say… I got some things out of my system.” She leaned toward you, glancing at your lips. But you didn’t press forward, at all. You just stared at her with a raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk on your lips.

“Ha ha. You’re so funny— I’m dying of laughter.” You intone, pulling her hands from your hips. “I’ll walk you down. You have a girlfriend to get back to.”

She rolled her eyes, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers. Opening your door, you led her out of your bedroom, taking the same path down the stairs you made going up. Hoping that the creaking would cease for a moment. “This was supposed to help us, not hurt us…” Ellie whispered, slightly saddened, holding onto your hand.

You sighed, looking over your shoulder. “It didn’t hurt us. I’m just irritated, okay?” When you appeared in front of the back door, you turned on the light. Unable to leave her completely, you walked out onto the porch with her—hand still in yours.

“Don’t be mad at me.” Ellie tugged you close, placing her hands on your shoulders. Sliding up the softness of your neck and jaw. You responded with a shrug, reaching up to hold her wrists. Thumb caressing the soft thin skin, feeling the lumps of her pulsing veins.

The freckled artist leaned forward to plot her lips on yours again, but you spoke before she could do so. “Abby’s comin’ to dinner tonight…”

She paused, dropping her hands from you, immediately. “What the fuck?”

You ran your tongue over your lips. “Consider that me getting you back for; one, bringing her up to my parents, and two, not giving me a timeframe for your stupid breakup with Cat— you’re on thin ice, Ellie Williams. Thin. Ice.”

The auburn-haired woman scoffed, peering off into the dark. “What? You think I care about her? I don’t even know who she is.” She was too stubborn to admit the amount of irritation that boiled inside of her at the sight of that blonde bit--

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were looking at her at the Tipsy Bison…” You told, crossing your arms. “The quicker you get rid of Cat, the quicker I get rid of Abby— simple.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “You’re so childish.”

“I prefer to call it… Whimsy.” You sneer, sizing her up. “Goodnight, Picasso.” You turn to walk back into your house, but her hand reaches for your wrist.

“I love you… Okay?” It was spoken with an airiness that made your knees weak. Ellie was trying to words on her tongue, feigning confidence. Even though, she was still so unsure about how you felt. The slight, twitching furrow in her brow tugged at your swelling heart.

Your other hand grazed hers, comfortingly. “I love you.” The words came from you with certainty, caressing the exposed skin of her hand. “See you later, I guess. Since it’s morning.”

“Yeah, see you later.” She kissed your hand before hopping off the porch.

You watched her jog back toward the guesthouse for a few minutes before entering the house. Shutting the doors behind you, your body filled with giddiness the moment that you were alone, not realizing there was another presence in the dark kitchen.

On cue, he cut the lights on, standing with his strong arms crossed over his chest. Your breath hitched in your throat, freezing in your bare-footed steps. “I don’t wanna assume nothin'… So, I suggest you start explainin’ what in the hell’s bell’s is goin’ on here.”

Fuck.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple (some of these weren't showing up but i hope i got everyone who asked)

[itsnesss]

hii, i already love your works sm and i was wondering if i could request a jun-ho fic where him and fem!reader search his brother and they can’t keep their hands off of each other? ;) and one day after reader teases jun-ho too much he just fucks her into the bathroom? i’m so sorry if that sounded weird 😭

love ya <333

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | smut, explicit content, tension-filled interactions, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight power dynamics

word count | 2.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The search for his brother has become more than a mission. It has stopped being just a matter of finding him. Every minute by his side, every stolen glance, every shared sigh... makes you forget everything else. The obsession with finding him has given way to a palpable tension between you and Jun-ho. At every corner, every place where they stop, their hands meet by accident, their bodies brush against each other as if it were inevitable. As if there were something beyond the search, something you can't control.

On one of those long and frustrating nights. They had followed a lead about Jun-ho's brother that had taken them to a small town, but the contact never showed up. They ended up in a rundown motel, sharing a room because the budget couldn't stretch any further.

You had tried to sleep, but between the noise of the old fan and the feeling of Jun-ho just a couple of meters away, it was impossible. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, reviewing some papers under the dim light of the bedside lamp, frowning as always.

"You should rest," you said from your bed, your voice heavy with sleep and annoyance. Keep staring at it won't make your brother magically appear.

Jun-ho looked up, clearly irritated, but also a bit tired.

"I can't".

You got up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, crossing your arms.

"You're such a stubborn one, you know?" you joked, although there was some truth in your words. "You always want to carry everything on your own".

"And you always have something to say, don't you?" he replied, his tone sharp but without real anger.

The conversation continued for a while, small jibes that gradually eased the day's tension. But as they talked, the atmosphere changed. There was something different in the way he looked at you that night, something beyond fatigue or worry.

When you stood up to approach his side, intending to snatch the papers from his hands to force him to rest, his fingers brushed against yours. It was a brief, accidental contact, but the heat it generated made both of them freeze, looking at each other in silence.

"What?" you asked, your voice softer, almost a whisper.

He didn't respond. Instead, he set the papers aside and leaned towards you. The moment was so unexpected that you didn't have time to think. His lips met yours, soft at first, as if he were tasting something he had longed for too long. But the kiss soon became more intense, more needy.

His hands moved up your arms, then to your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't resist. On the contrary, your fingers tangled in his hair as the heat in your chest intensified. You were kneeling in front of him, and you felt his heavy breath against your lips when they barely separated for a moment.

"This isn't right," he murmured, though he made no effort to move away.

"Then stop doing it," you replied, challenging him, and kissed him again, losing yourself in the way his body molded to yours.

That night didn't go beyond that. Although his hands roamed your back, your legs, and his lips left a burning trail on your neck, both stopped before crossing a line they knew would complicate everything. But after that, nothing was ever the same again. The casual touches felt more charged, the glances lingered too long, and the desire between you kept growing.

Jun-ho has never been so straightforward, but you know he is as caught up in this tightrope as you are. The nights spent reviewing clues become an excuse to be close, too close, as the hours fade away and the only thing left between you is unresolved desire.

Today is no different. You are in his apartment, a room cluttered with the mountains of papers they have accumulated during the search, and a constant feeling of discomfort that neither of you can ignore. The brush of his hands as he hands you a cup of coffee, the gentle touch of his fingers as he passes you a photo... everything feels magnified.

"What?" Jun-ho asks, raising an eyebrow when you stare for a second longer than necessary. As if you were evaluating every detail of him, every little gesture that only intensifies what you already know.

"Nothing". You shrug, but the mocking smile that forms on your lips says the exact opposite. There's something about him that makes you feel... powerful. As if you could play with him, put him to the test.

"Don't look at me like that."His voice is deeper than it should be, and his gaze darkens, as if he were waiting for one more provocation. And you know it. You know you did it on purpose.

You've seen him hesitate before, his self-control always on the edge, but this time, you can't help it. You know that what is happening between you is more than just a simple attraction. It's a whirlwind of emotions, of confusion, and above all, of something neither of you can ignore.

You don't stop, and neither does he. The tension remains constant, growing as time passes. The brush of his body near yours while you search for more clues sends shivers down your spine, but you can't pull away. You can't stop looking for an excuse to be near him.

Jun-ho walks back and forth, reviewing papers and murmuring something about clues and possible locations. You see him so serious, so engrossed in his detective role, that you can't resist making a comment to annoy him.

"Are you always this intense?" you ask, resting your chin on your hand.

He stops and glances at you sideways, bewildered.

"What do you mean?"

You smile, innocent but with a touch of mischief.

You know, all that frowning, the rigid posture, the constant "I'm solving an important case" face. I wonder if you ever relax... or if you look the same when you're, you know, at other times.

The insinuation in your voice is impossible to ignore. His eyes narrow, and you see his jaw tighten.

"In other times?" he repeats, clearly caught between confusion and challenge.

You shrug, feigning innocence.

"You know, more... private moments. Are you just as intense or do you follow a whole procedure?"

His reaction is immediate. He leaves the papers on the table and walks towards you with determined steps. Before you can get up, he leans over you, his hands resting on either side of your body.

"Do you want to find out?"

You are left speechless, but he doesn't give you time to respond. In a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and takes you to the bathroom.

The feeling of having him so close, his body pressed against yours, gives you goosebumps. The desire you had contained for so long bursts forth in a wave of need.

"Is this private?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours as he unbuttons his shirt.

"Yes," you affirm, your breath quickening.

"Well". He smiles, his eyes shining with a predatory glint. "So yes, I am just as intense at other times... even more so".

And with those words, his mouth meets yours in a passionate kiss. His hands glide over your body, exploring every part of you, while yours cling to his shoulders with need. The bathroom fills with our sounds, with gasps and sighs as we lose ourselves in this long-repressed need.

"Take off your shirt," he whispers in your ear, his warm breath on your skin, and you obey without thinking. It slides off your shoulders and falls to the ground, and before you can speak, your fingers sink into his hair and you pull him towards you again.

"Is this what you wanted?" he gasps on your lips, his fingers climbing up your ribs and rubbing your skin in circular motions.

You stop. The question makes something change in you. It's as if a veil has been lifted, and everything suddenly became clear.

"I want more," you reply, sincere, not caring that he notices what you feel. I want to feel you. I want to make you moan. I want you to be unable to pull away from me.

And his eyes shine. Her gaze turns dark, predatory, and her lips curve into a smile.

"Wow… that's interesting". He nods, his fingers caressing your lips. "Fortunately, I can fulfill your wishes".

And before you can respond, his fingers slide over your pants. The sound of the zipper opening is loud in the silence of the bathroom, and you barely have time to process it before his hands grab your thighs and sit you on the edge of the sink.

"Strip," he orders, his eyes shifting to your pants, and you don't hesitate to obey.

You remove them immediately, and your underwear slips off with them, revealing your naked body. His eyes roam over every part of you, as if it were the first time he sees you, and his breath quickens suddenly.

"You look beautiful" he gasps, his voice deeper now, filled with need. "So beautiful..."

And again, his lips meet yours in a wild, hungry kiss. His hand moves up your thigh and grabs your leg, pressing it against his waist.

"Do you like it?" he whispers, his hand rubbing you. "Do you like what I'm doing to you?"

You nod, and his smile curves again. His fingers touch you in a way that makes your feet go cold and you tense up.

"That's interesting" he pants. "I think I'm going to need a bit more information".

And with his words, a finger begins to penetrate you. The movement is slow, as if he is unsure, but soon, his fingers begin to move in circular motions, penetrating you again and again, and you curl up, wrapping your legs around his fingers.

"Is this better?" she asks, her voice tense with desire.

"Mmm" you respond with a gasp, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

"Mmm what?"

"Yes…" you manage to say, your breath now more rapid. The pleasure is intense, it makes every part of you tense in an exquisite way. "Continue".

And he does it, his finger moving faster and deeper each time. His lips slide down to your nipples and he begins to suck on them, drawing them in with slow movements. The pleasure makes you arch towards him, trying for more, but his hand suddenly stops.

"Is that what you want?" he whispers. Do you want me to touch you?

"Yes, please" you gasp, pleading. "Don't stop..."

And his hand starts to move again. This time it is two fingers that penetrate you, slowly, but increasingly intensely. You arch towards him, with a cry of pleasure.

"And this?" Jun-ho whispers. Do you want more?

"Yes" you manage to respond, every part of you vibrating with pleasure. "Please".

"Please?" he repeats. I like that.

His fingers stop again, but before you can protest, his body shifts position, lowering slowly, and his mouth meets your sex. His lips begin to suck you, licking every part of you with slow, exquisite movements. Your body arches towards him again, trying more, and his fingers penetrate you once more.

The sensation is indescribable. The pressure inside you, the heat in your breasts, the sensation of his lips on you... everything comes together in an intense, exquisite pleasure.

"Jun-ho" you sob, your fingers sinking into his hair. "Jun-ho!"

"What?" he whispers, his eyes fixed on you.

"More... more..." you manage to stammer, trying to describe the pleasure.

And his mouth fills you up again. His lips suck you with strong movements, his fingers penetrating you faster and faster. Your body shakes with pleasure, but his mouth doesn't stop. He sucks you with frantic movements, devours you with the hunger of a man who hasn't eaten in days. His fingers caress you, touch you in the most exquisite way, and suddenly, the pleasure is overwhelming.

"Oh, god!" you moan, your fingers tugging at his hair. "Yes... yes..."

And everything fades away. The pleasure bursts into an intense orgasm, making you arch against his fingers. Your body shakes back and forth, trying to rid itself of the pleasure, but his fingers and mouth hold you there, not letting you go.

Finally, the orgasm fades, and your body collapses onto the sink. His fingers withdraw, and his mouth kisses you gently. Then, a moment later, his arms wrap around you and lift you, sitting you back on the sink.

"I think you're the best meal I've ever had," he says, his smile mischievous.

You smile too.

"You're not bad either" you tell him.

"No?" He approaches you with slow steps. "Does that mean you might want more?".

You smile at him again.

"It depends". You approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What do you have to offer me?"

"Oh, I think I have something you might find interesting…" He nods, smiling. "Do you want to see it?"

You nod your head, and immediately, his fingers begin to lower his belt. He lowers his pants and lets them fall to the ground. And there it is, his member, erect, strong, ready to penetrate you.

"Do you want to try this?" gasps Jun-ho, his breath already quickened. Do you want to feel me inside you?

You smile mischievously.

"Hmm…" you respond. "I don't know, what do you offer me if I try it?"

"If you try it, I promise you'll feel something incredible". His fingers begin to caress your thighs again. "I'm going to make you feel things you've never imagined".

"Hmm…" you whisper. "Well, then it seems fine to me. I'm going to give it a try".

And immediately, you get up from the sink and approach Jun-ho. His arms close around you and push you against the bathroom wall. His eyes fixate on you, shining with intense desire as he leans against you, his member brushing against your core.

"Do you want?" he whispers.

"Yes".You nod your head. "I want!"

And her hips move forward. His member penetrates you in a gentle yet intense manner. The contact is exquisite, making you sigh with pleasure and fall into his arms.

"Is that okay?" she gasps between breaths.

"Hmm... yes" you murmur, your fingers encircling his shoulders. "Continue..."

And his hips begin to move again. His member penetrates you harder, deeper, and with each movement, the pleasure within you grows. His fingers grip your legs, lifting them towards his waist for easier access, and you let yourself go, trying to absorb all the pleasure you can.

"Do you like this?" he whispers again, his breath quickening more and more. Do you like how I touch you?

"Yes... yes..." you murmur, your breathing also becoming increasingly rapid.

"Well —he gasps with a sigh." Then I'm going to give you more... much more...

Her hips start to move again. This time his member penetrates you harder than before, faster. The pleasure is indescribable, it makes your body tense and contract towards him.

"Oh!" you moan between sighs. "Like this!"

"Like this?" he gasps again. "Do you want it like this?"

"Yes... Yes..." you respond, your fingers gripping it tighter—. Yes!

And he doesn't say anything more. His hips keep moving that way, with quick and deep movements. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him, and your fingers clutch his shoulders. The pleasure is increasingly intense, increasingly unbearable, but his body does not stop.

Finally, his breathing quickens too much, each of his movements becomes increasingly rough, and his member begins to pulse inside you.

"God!" she screams, her breath ragged.

And everything suddenly explodes. His member hardens and begins to release his semen into a hot river. His body shakes back and forth, trying to absorb every sensation, and the pleasure makes you let go with a scream. The orgasm is strong, intense, making your fingers grip him tighter and the walls surround him.

Finally, everything disappears again. Her hips come to a stop, her breathing returns to normal, and her arms relax. Her eyes, however, continue to shine. He approaches you and kisses you on the cheek.

"Was it how you wanted it?" he whispers between your lips.

You smile mischievously again.

"Hmm… I think it was better". You slip out of his arms and start getting dressed. "The thing is, I can't have this whenever I want".

He smiles again.

"That's easy to fix" he says, while also getting dressed. I can give you as much as you want.

"I hope so". And immediately you walk away from him, leaving the bathroom without waiting to see his reaction.

"Don't worry, you won't have to wait long," you hear his words behind you, and a smile curves your lips.

[neurospiczzzziee]

Blitzø is actually really good at Art

From an Art Educator Perspective

Okay so I saw some posts on Blitzø actually really enjoying art and that being his passion other than horses. I don't know if in the fandom we have had this consensus or if this is a hot take on my part, but Blitzø is actually really good at drawing.

You may ask why I know this and why I am so confident?

My credibility: I literally specialize in it.

I am a professional artist. I am a High School Art Teacher, who got their degree in art education and attended a well acclaimed art school.

(Self-taught artists are extremely valid and you do not need to go to art school to be an "actual artist". I am bringing up my background to show that I have a lot of knowledge of the development of fine motor skills and the ranges of art abilities and how to further improve them.)

As an educator, if Blitzø was a student and I saw Blitzø's drawings/doodles I would automatically recognize that he was actually advanced in abilities. Based on looking at his drawings I can tell if he were to actually take his time and focus on something he could create really beautifully detailed/rendered artwork.

You may ask how I know this??? I'm glad you asked.

THE AMOUNT OF LINE QUALITY THAT IS DEMONSTRATED IN BLITZØ'S DRAWINGS IS INSANE.

✨Art Lesson time✨

Okay so everyone learning to draw goes through the necessary stages of development

I'm just going to give humans as an example because obviously this is a fictional demon we are talking about.

Generally everyone goes through these stages as they grow and work on learning to draw. (Prodigies are extremely rare and I've only seen one once)

Art skills are like a sport. You need to train in order to develop fine motor abilities and control in your hands. The more you draw and do art the more you gain control of your muscles. It takes a lot of time and years of work to improve.

When a person's fine motor skills aren't as developed their lines tend to be shaky and they have less control. The more a person draws the better their line control becomes.

(Think of when you were little and you were first learning how to write)

The way I can tell how advanced Blitzø is, is through his line quality.

Now what is Line Quality?

This is a screenshot from this wonderful article

So in Blitzø's artwork he very much illustrates good Line control, force, thickness, and fluidity.

Okay first of all I want to Mention

THAT BLITZØ IS DRAWING IN PEN. You can tell this because different parts of the Calendar are crossed out with his scribbles. Also anybody with a calendar knows you have to write with a pen.

LOOK AT HOW CLEAN, FLUID AND CONFIDENT THESE LINES ARE DESPITE THAT HE IS DRAWING IN PEN!???

My assumption is that Blitzø is not using a reference for these drawings. You could make the argument that he has photos for M&M, Loona, and Stolas; however, he definitely does not have a photo of Striker.

I want to mention how dynamic of a pose he is drawing people in. He isn't avoiding hands at all. All of the hands are relatively accurate (Strikers especially).

In these drawings you see variation in line weight meaning parts of his lines are thicker to thinner. So Blitzø is purposely pressing harder and lighter to show variation and depth. His lines are very clean. I don't see repetitive Stokes and lines for the shapes. He is really confident with his mark making and you can tell because his lines aren't shaky at all.

By looking at his line quality and how clean it is you can tell he drew it quickly.

Not to mention he actually has a huge range of items he can draw confidently including and not limited to horses, weapons, leashes, cars, demons, and of course genitalia.

Blitzø isn't what you call a one trick pony 🐴 when it comes to what he can draw.

You can see this skill demonstrated in his other doodles.

You can even see this ability demonstrated in his drawings on the whiteboard

Okay anybody who has drawn on a whiteboard knows that they are difficult to draw on.

Whiteboards smear and are very streaky. In this photo you can tell where Blitzø made a mistake or changed information. Notice that none of his drawings have any smears. That means he did these drawings in literally one take.

I also want to mention his drawings in spring breakers. He is speed drawing directions and illustrating a plan perfectly to his employees.

HE IS LITERALLY RAPID FIRE SPEED DRAWING HERE

His drawing of Veroskika which he DREW FROM MEMORY.

Demonstrates the following:

Line control, Line Confidence, Line Fluidity, Variation in Line weight, and still has relatively correct proportions!?

Basically shut up MOXIE?!!! He did a good job!

Why have we not seen more detailed Blitzø artwork?

Okay so I as we know in the show Blitzø puts his doodles everywhere. So if he is good at Art why isn't he showing his artwork he spent a long time on????

The answer: he's insecure

Showing someone your art is a very vulnerable action. This is especially true if you spent a long time on it.

If someone doesn't like or makes fun of your doodle you can brush it off and be like well it's only a sketch and I did it in under 5 min.

It's a lot easier to show someone a silly little horse drawing you did than something you poured your heart and soul into.

We already are aware that Blitzø is insecure and has self-esteem issues. He literally covers his face in the photos of himself throughout his apartment. He is a very guarded individual. Of course he wouldn't show people the art he spent hours on. What if people reject them? They judge him for spending that much time? What if they see how much he actually loves them?

Blitzø feels like the kind of person who would crumple up or destroy his art that he spends long amounts of time on. It's a way of self-sabotaging yourself and further self-loathing.

Now do I think he has these hours long art pieces/drawings????

ABSOLUTELY

My guess is that Blitzø most likely has a hidden sketchbook. Artists tend to draw their loved ones and especially their children and partners.

There is no doubt in my mind that Blitzø hasn't been doing long observational drawings of Stola's especially when he is sleeping.

He has most likely been drawing Loona all the time. Why do you think he takes all the photos? Those are his references. He has probably been drawing detailed artwork of his loved ones this whole time (and of course horses too lol).

In conclusion

Blitzø actually can draw really well because his doodles demonstrate high levels of skill in line quality.

Going forward I would really appreciate if someone actually finds Blitzø's sketchbook or portfolio of his artwork he spent large amounts of time on. It would be really cute. It would be adorable if Loona or Stolas found them.

Blitzø could gain more confidence and put is artwork he really cares about on display 🥺

I also just want Moxie to find out and eat his words. (Guys I swear I don't hate Moxie 😂)

Thank you for joining me here today on my Ted talk on how I think Blitzø is actually a talented artist. I'm just an art teacher who has problems with how much helluva boss lives in rent free in my head.

[dindjarindiaries]

Hunter was trying to be a good older brother to Crosshair and a good father to Omega in The Return, despite a few moments of weakness, through protectiveness, observation, and supportiveness. He ultimately succeeded in his objectives.

The Bad Batch S3E5 "The Return" will always be one of my favorites because it doesn't shy away from the complexity of the family's dynamic after 1) losing Tech, who was often a peacekeeper/mitigator, and 2) regaining Crosshair. While I, and many others, wish the former was explored more, it does an excellent job of showing us even more about these siblings' dynamics than we even knew before.

As always with any analysis, this is a disclaimer that you may view this episode in an entirely different way due to various biases, one of the most notable being based upon your own favorite characters and your own life experience. All I ask is that you read through carefully before chiming in with any counterarguments!

The line of dialogue that most of my argument here hinges upon is from Hunter about midway through the episode, just before his and Crosshair's fight.

"I know you."

Going back to the very beginning of the episode, we see Hunter and Wrecker sitting and waiting for Omega to wake up. Crosshair's clearly not there, and when Omega asks about their brother's whereabouts, Wrecker says he wasn't there when they woke up, before Hunter adds this.

His face is clearly displaying concern, even though his words are reassuring. He's no doubt worried about Crosshair, too, but like he says later on: he knows Crosshair. He knows what to do when Crosshair's upset, and that the sniper wants/needs time alone, hence why he and Wrecker didn't go after him. Hunter is trying to reassure Omega, who isn't as familiar with Crosshair at this point, by insisting that this is how he adjusts to change. It's important to note that there doesn't really seem to be any hostility radiating from Hunter (or Wrecker) towards Crosshair here.

In fact, the duo only gets up and goes to check on Crosshair once Omega's involved. This proves something else that's important to understand for Hunter's character in this episode: he's wrestling with both his concern for Crosshair and his protectiveness over Omega, and that's because of this moment from season 1:

Because of Crosshair telling Hunter in S1E15 that he had his inhibitor chip removed, without the context of when, Hunter has to assume for Omega's safety that this was Crosshair acting of his own accord. This is because, if Hunter's to be a reliable protector of her, he always has to be as cautious as possible with those she's surrounded by—and unfortunately, in this case, that includes Crosshair.

(Remember that, even as the sergeant of Clone Force 99 and the eldest brother/caretaker of their family, Hunter's priorities have shifted since the war ended; Omega now comes before all else. He says this as early as S1E7 to Rex, when they had only had Omega for a short time. This is now at least a year after those events, which means that sentiment's only grown stronger for Hunter, especially after losing Omega to the Empire for six months.)

Because Crosshair is smart and also knows his brothers just like they know him, he comes to this conclusion himself. This is why he's not surprised when they start watching him and Omega from a distance, and why Crosshair insists it's because "They don't trust me."

Then, Echo arrives, and they start making plans to go to Barton IV. This is where we see Hunter's protectiveness of Omega really shining, along with some interesting glimpses of Hunter's concern/curiosity about Crosshair and what he went through.

The fact that Omega and Hunter have the same expression here... that's intentional. Omega is but a mirror of her brothers, and always has been ever since she met them. She and Hunter are literally displaying the same amount of sympathy and concern for Crosshair here.

Now, this look from Hunter that's immediately after Crosshair's done talking is read as anger from a lot of people, which is understandable. To me, though, especially through this lens, it looks more like Hunter is coming to a conclusion. Hunter can tell that Crosshair knows more (and has gone through more) than he's letting on about, but he doesn't care that much about getting the intel that Echo no doubt wants. Hunter just doesn't like the fact that Crosshair won't open up about what happened to him.

It's important to keep in mind that as Hunter and Wrecker were watching Omega and Crosshair before, they undoubtedly saw Crosshair's target practice going poorly. Hunter would certainly make note of that, and thinking of his physical struggles along with hearing this... well, yeah, Hunter's gonna have a serious pondering face, because he wants to know what's wrong with his youngest brother so he can help him. But because he knows his brother, he knows that he has to keep his space for now and be mindful.

Once plans for the trip to Barton IV come up, Hunter proposes that he goes with Crosshair and Echo, again proving that Hunter isn't really trying to avoid Crosshair. In fact, Hunter only expresses any concern when Omega wants to join, and we all know why. He's worried about her and doesn't want to risk it, which he says plainly.

It's clear, though, that Hunter is still worried about Crosshair being so close to Omega, too, especially if they're going to an Imperial hideout. Hunter has trauma from that moment in S1E8, and it's not easy for him to see past that, as much as he does still care and worry for his youngest brother. Again, he has to suspect that anyone is capable of hurting her, aside from the brothers who've been protecting her alongside himself the entire time.

Crosshair even acknowledges this when he and Hunter pass one another while packing up the night before.

(I'd like to note that, in this moment, Hunter's the one who moves to accommodate Crosshair's path. To me, that's more evidence of the fact that Hunter is keeping a safe distance from Crosshair to let him process, but because Omega's there too, he's also keeping a watchful eye on him. He's really torn between the two.)

"Don't hold it against him," Crosshair tells Omega. Why? Because:

Crosshair understands that most, if not all, of Hunter's moments of caution towards Crosshair have everything to do with Omega and her safety, rather than Hunter being angry at Crosshair. Hunter doesn't like that Omega's going on this risky mission, and he really doesn't like that it's happening with Crosshair there, when he hasn't even told Hunter everything that happened. How is he supposed to properly protect her (and Crosshair) without knowing all the details?

(And how sweet is it that Crosshair agrees with Hunter's take on Omega coming with them?)

They get to Barton IV, and there, we get one of Hunter's moments of weakness, when he's really giving in to his protectiveness of Omega and his frustration/worry about having such few details about Crosshair and his falling out with the Empire.

(But first, let's quickly acknowledge Crosshair emerging in his old armor, and the fact that Hunter, Wrecker, and the others kept it. Hunter (and Wrecker I believe) both lost pieces of their armor during their search for Omega, no doubt either losing them in dangerous situations or selling things to get by, but they never once touched Crosshair's kit—even when it would have been really easy to sell his things before selling their own.)

Because the base is empty, Hunter starts to worry that it's a sign of something bad. Remember, just because Hunter is the level-headed sergeant and leader of the group, he's not immune to trauma. Imagine how traumatizing Eriadu and all his failed attempts to find Omega with Wrecker were for him, especially with him literally being a tracker. The last time they were all together like this on a mission was when Tech died.

So, Hunter gives into that protective sense and challenges Crosshair, because now he needs the details. He has a sense that this place is notable to Crosshair, but not how, and if he wants to protect Omega, who is his main priority, he has to find out. He's also getting more and more frustrated that Crosshair won't talk to him about it.

This can be evidenced by one of their exchanges. It's only after Crosshair brings up his cell again that Hunter insists, "I get the feeling there's more to this place than you're saying." And... well, Hunter's right. This is a place of trauma for Crosshair, and Hunter's no doubt picking up on that. After being reminded of Crosshair's imprisonment, Hunter has to ask, he has to press, in his mind, for the wellbeing of Omega, Crosshair, and the rest of his squad.

Again, Hunter doesn't like operating off little information to accomplish all these things. He's a protector at heart, and he always has been. Crosshair not giving him all the details he can remember (likely because of his own trauma) makes Hunter feel even more on edge, and that's why he lashes out a bit more at his brother, questioning him about why he didn't mention the raiders before.

Unfortunately, with Crosshair deflecting to avoid his own hurt, Hunter takes the bait and engages, leading to their exchange of "Just following orders?" "If you're scared, why don't you wait on the ship?" Thankfully, Echo steps in and breaks it up, which gives Hunter time to clear his head again. This is Hunter's first biggest moment of weakness.

Now, we're getting to one of my favorite sequences: Hunter watching Crosshair from a distance inside the depot.

Hunter clocks Crosshair's discomfort right away after Echo says that Crosshair's words about the base serving its purpose "Sounds familiar." Again, it's easy to understand why people might read this as Hunter being angry or cautious, but to me, it looks like Hunter's just trying to get a read on why that particular exchange sent Crosshair away, and what exactly he's looking for.

Wanting to figure out more so that he can help Crosshair and thus help them all in this very moment, Hunter quietly follows Crosshair, and that's what leads to him seeing Crosshair pick up Mayday and the other regs' helmets.

(Hunter lurking in the back right. I'm obsessed with this shot.)

Remember, Hunter is observing this as someone who remembers Crosshair not wanting anything to do with the regs. He antagonized them perhaps the most out of any other in the squad during their arc in The Clone Wars, and he even told Hunter in S1E15 that the Batch was superior to the regs, and to most other soldiers in general. Hunter seeing Crosshair treat these reg helmets with such reverence is such a strong indication to him that something major has shifted for Crosshair, and it had likely happened on this planet.

But Hunter, again, knowing his brother, remains a quiet observer. It would've been easy for him to engage here, but he recognizes that Crosshair needs this moment to himself. Hunter even leaves him to it after. Would someone who really didn't trust Crosshair at all whatsoever turn their back to him like that? What he does is give his brother privacy, and acknowledge that he needs to know what happened... but this isn't the right place or time to be pressing him about it.

Danger is lurking, though, and Hunter's desperation to know the truth so he can be better equipped is growing. It hits a peak when Crosshair, prompted by Batcher's barking, checks the perimeter by himself. Pay close attention to how Hunter reacts to Crosshair's exit.

It isn't really anger in this expression. Wrecker's behind him is certainly one of concern. Hunter instead looks determined, and that's because he's about to pursue Crosshair to start getting answers. He's tired of not knowing, and because the stakes are starting to rise, and the evidence is all around him. Hunter decides that he's given enough space and now has to push Crosshair to talk to him.

Because, as Hunter's about to say in a few seconds, he knows Crosshair. He knows, and from what Echo says later, he's always known how to get Crosshair to talk, and it seems that it often involves some fighting and bloodshed—because Crosshair has a harder time opening up than his other brothers.

But Hunter will be damned if he doesn't try, especially now that Omega's safety could depend on this information.

Now, at last, we're at the pinnacle moment of the episode for these two characters: the fight, and another moment of weakness for Hunter. He reminds Crosshair that he knows him, and he demands this time to know what exactly happened here.

Hunter, because he knows his brother, has to push Crosshair (literally) to get anything out of him. He doesn't want this to be simple bickering like before. So, Hunter goes for a low blow. He knows that Crosshair values loyalty above all else, so he brings up Crosshair's disloyalty to both the Empire and their own squad, knowing it'll hurt him enough to get some real responses out of him.

Then comes the physical shove. This is a clear demand for Crosshair to start giving answers.

But look at how Hunter's expression changes as he waits for Crosshair to talk.

His brow softens, because Crosshair's hesitance to say or do something right away is evidence of the fact that it's something really, really serious that happened. At the end of the day, he's just worried for his brother. He wants to know, needs to know, so he can help him. It almost looks like he's pleading for an answer here.

And Crosshair does answer truthfully, revealing that he killed Lt. Nolan. Hunter is obviously shocked, and he even has a somewhat guilty reaction to Crosshair saying "after they betrayed me", because, I mean, we all know Hunter's been harboring guilt for leaving Crosshair behind.

That's when Crosshair digs his claws in to protect himself, too, also going for low blows against Hunter—starting with Hunter ignoring the warning Crosshair had sent from Tantiss.

(What's really telling to me here is that Hunter doesn't once defend himself when he easily could have. He could have told Crosshair that he was the only one who wanted to listen to Crosshair's warning, but that his and the rest of the squad's desire to try to save Crosshair ultimately won out. But he doesn't. He just takes it.)

Hunter only starts to get really angry when Crosshair gets Omega involved.

Hunter turned Crosshair's loyalty against him, so Crosshair turns Hunter's protectiveness against him. Imagine being a protector like Hunter, who's even more fiercely protective of Omega, and being told that after months of desperate, worried searching, you're the reason why the person you care the most about went through their worst bout of suffering.

Yeah, that stings. Especially because there's truth to it, the part about his jealousy towards Crosshair being the one to free her instead of himself. Hunter no doubt felt like he had failed as Omega's protector by losing her to the Empire, and not only that, but the brother he left behind had to be the one to bring her back to them.

(I also think that, in reading between the lines in this entire part of Crosshair's argument, he could even be insinuating that Hunter's shouldering the blame for Tech's death. If he knows the details, then he knows that ultimately, Hunter's the one who approved the mission. "You ignored it", in reference to Crosshair's message, could mean that both Tech and Omega could have been safe if Hunter had simply made the right call. It may not have been intentional on Crosshair's part, but I could easily see Hunter thinking that, especially if he already felt guilty about it.)

No wonder why these two are about to fist fight in the snow. Their ugliest, scariest monsters have finally come out.

And that's when the scary monster comes out, too.

(I love the symbolism!)

Hunter immediately snaps back into his protector mode. He warns Crosshair to move, but also physically shoves Crosshair out of the way and takes his previous place, making himself the one who's closest to the threat.

(Hunter does this a lot with his squad, by the way.)

They focus on getting to safety, and then figuring out a plan with the others to get the wyrm back outside the perimeter. This is when Hunter insists that they have to make sure the wyrm is drawn out that far so that they're not trapped inside with it, and Crosshair volunteers to take it on his own. But Hunter's not okay with that.

You would think that Hunter would want to be as far away from Crosshair as possible after what just transpired, but he doesn't. Instead, in this moment, Hunter is assuring Crosshair that he doesn't have to do things alone anymore, that they're brothers at the end of the day, and he wants to help. I think this is Hunter's first true attempt at making a truce with Crosshair, and attempting to extend his hand to him.

Of course, Crosshair snaps back asking Hunter if he's sure that's what he wants, and that leads to a moment of tension—but notice that, unlike the other times, Hunter doesn't retaliate. He understands with more clarity now why Crosshair's lashing out. Crosshair's hurting.

So, in teaming up with Crosshair here, Hunter knows he can mend what's most important to Crosshair by proving it with his actions: loyalty.

If anything, what Crosshair lashing out here and what Hunter going with him proves is that Crosshair's mostly hurt that he's lost the loyalty/trust of his brothers. When they get out there and Hunter's trapped underneath the ice, left to rely on his brother for guidance and rescue, it allows Crosshair to mend that sense of loyalty and trust. He can earn it back.

Not because Hunter necessarily needs him to do that, although it certainly is helpful, but because Hunter knows that Crosshair needs that. Crosshair needs to feel reliable to them again.

That's what's so perfect about Hunter's safety literally being in Crosshair's hands here. They're able to banter the way they likely would've during the war, and Hunter doesn't hesitate when Crosshair extends his rifle to pull him up and get him out of the hole in the ice.

Hunter gets proof that he can indeed trust Crosshair with his life again, and Crosshair gets that proof, too. Because, at the end of the day, they're just an eldest and youngest brother. Youngest siblings (I say as a youngest child myself) are often looking for validation and trust from their older siblings, especially the eldest. This display of trust must've been so, so validating and healing for Crosshair.

That brings us back to that first line of dialogue I highlighted: "I know you." Hunter knew Crosshair was hurting like this all along, and while he was struggling between his protectiveness over Omega and his concern for Crosshair, he was finally able to make his brother's journey to healing happen.

We then get the nods of mutual trust, understanding, apologies, and forgiveness, before they sit in peace together.

(This is one of my favorite shots in all of Star Wars. I mean, come on.)

I love how the shift in their dynamic is evident enough that everyone recognizes it once they get back. They hug it out with Wrecker, and then we shift into one of the most meaningful dialogue exchanges we'll ever get between them.

Now that Crosshair's laid more of his vulnerabilities out on the table, he seeks reassurance in Hunter. Again, youngest siblings so often just want to feel validated by their older siblings, especially the eldest. Crosshair's looked to Hunter to lead him and guide him his whole life. This is why the guilt's so evident when he comes clean about making mistakes with the Empire.

It would've been so easy for Hunter to say yeah, you did make mistakes, you did hurt us and many innocent people. Instead, Hunter says these simple few words that carry so much weight:

Hunter takes on that burden with Crosshair. He lets his own vulnerabilities show by saying, yeah, I'm with you there, there are things I wish I hadn't done, either. He then gives him reassurance and hope by saying that they can forge a new path forward, that they're not tied down by who they used to be, nor what bad decisions they made.

Hunter is putting them on the same level here, and for someone like Crosshair, who probably thought his brothers would never trust him nor accept him the way they used to because of what he's done, this means everything.

(I also feel like Crosshair really needed to hear the "I have regrets too" line from Hunter in particular. He needed a hint that Hunter really did regret leaving him behind, even if it was the best/safest option for the rest of the squad at the time. You can certainly still regret doing something, even if it was the best option at that time.)

In summary, The Return is about not just a return to Barton IV, but a return to who Clone Force 99 used to be. Crosshair's return to his squad, the return of their trust in him and vice versa. A return to the familiar.

Hunter didn't handle this perfectly, nor would anyone who was in his shoes with all these complicated relationships and trauma, but he did his best. Even while caught between his concern for Crosshair and his fierce protectiveness of Omega and the members of his family that he had left, Hunter still found a way to make things right. He completed both objectives.

For as much as Crosshair needed to have the trust of his family back, Hunter needed the reassurance that he could still keep his entire family safe on missions like these. He needed to know he could still take care of them, physically and emotionally.

And he succeeded.

[moonlit-imagines]

Took a Bullet

Jason Todd x reader

warnings: GUNS BLOOD WEAPONS INJURY

a/n: AYO ANON I LIED I STILL HAD MORE FROM YOU YAAYYYYY!!! i sowwy it is a little short

prompt: anon 🥀: “I've been in a jason todd mood as of lately (I'm literally so obsessed with him) and wanted to request a jason one-shot where it's a sort of enemies/ rivals-to-lovers type of dynamic where reader is another anti-hero who always ends up beating jason to jobs/ stealing his thunder by taking out whatever baddie he was after before he could do it? And then one time they have to work together to take down a criminal and reader gets severely injured (not fatally) so jason gets all protective. Then jason takes reader back to his safe house and patches them up, scolding them for making such a reckless move, which gets them talking and a confession ensues.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Red Hood sarcastically asked you after you shot down his last four battle plans for taking out a heavy weapons deal that would be taking place in under two hours.

“Anything that doesn’t guarantee our deaths, Red Hood.” You remarked, slamming your gun on the table. “I need a break from this.” You stood up and headed for the door for a moment of fresh air—Gotham fresh air.

“We don’t get breaks, y/n, this is happening tonight. It’s now or never so get on the same page.” He argued as you slammed the door behind you, rolling your eyes at his arrogance. The sun was setting, you were losing time—and you felt you were better off on your own. But he just wouldn’t leave you alone, had to have a hand in this takedown. Maybe because you were always one step ahead of him, he had to be apart of this one.

Jason worked hard, but you seemed to work harder with the way you handled your jobs. You got information first, you were there first, you did it on your own. He never understood how he was coming in second but he didn’t feel like he was doing enough, so when he caught wind of your operation he had to have a hand in it to make up the difference—only you couldn’t stand the way he did things.

You took a deep breath and walked back inside, seeing Jason scribbling on the board his new plan. “Is this better for you?” He crossed his arms as your eyes darted across a board of people, places, paraphernalia and more.

“Hang on.” You took the marker from him and altered it hastily, just for show because you knew it’d irk him. “This I can do.”

“Thank God.” He grabbed your gun off the table by the muzzle and handed it to you. “Can we go now?”

—————

Things did not go as planned. You insisted it was of no fault of your own but that was up for debate, especially since you chose to dive in front of a bullet to prevent Red Hood from taking a hit. That wasn’t the story you were sticking with, though.

“I wasn’t the one who dropped my knife, Hood!” You argued as he drove the getaway car. He could barely hear your yelling over the overworked engine revving and the barrage of bullets coming your way. You rushed to tie off your wound—a gunshot to your leg—as he sped away. “Can you drive a little less insane so I can fix this?!”

“Working on preventing you from getting shot again, if you hadn’t noticed. And I dropped the knife because you hit me, thank you very much.” He took a hard left turn and another right, trying to lose the pursuit to get you back to his safehouse.

“Yeah, because you wouldn’t shut the hell up about Batman and I was trying to concentrate.” You retorted, wincing in pain at each turn as you braced yourself for the force. “I thought you were a professional who, at the very least, could hold onto his weapon what he gets tapped in the arm. I guess that’s why I’m always a step ahead, huh?” Jason made another rough turn and you groaned in pain. “Come on! We lost them, you can stop with the reckless driving.”

“If you say so,” Jason shrugged, finally starting to drive in the right direction and looking over to you, noticing a second bloodstain on your arm, “did you get shot again?” He asked in disbelief, oddly calm.

“Yep.” You stared ahead and ignored his gaze. “You can go a little faster. I’d like to get this taken care of.” He pressed the gas pedal and arrived back at base, helping you up the stairs due to your first injury. You cursed under your breath the whole time with no end in sight. “Your fault you can’t pay attention, you goddamn…goddamn…can you just, ugh, do something?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to get you to the gurney so I can fix the mistake you made.” He sassed back.

“You were going to take this one to the chest, so I’d be thanking me if I were you.” You argued back as you were laid on the gurney within your base.

“I wear kevlar, thank you very much.” Jason replied, rummaging through first aid.

“Not on your shoulders. Would have gone straight through and probably hit your heart.” You poked him as hard as you could on his shoulder with your good arm—you know, the one without the bullet hole. Jason scoffed and cut your pantleg off without asking. You groaned at the pressure and decided to quit complaining since he had the tweezers in hand. “No, the bullet went through in my leg. Not my arm, though.” He nodded and instead went for the needle to stitch your thigh.

“That hurt?” He asked.

“Yeah, it hurts. Are you kidding?” You snapped and he shook his head, finishing the first set of stitches and moving to the back of your leg. A more sensitive spot, you tried to hide the twitches and winces of pain from him. And finally, he got to your arm, where he’d had to reach in to get the bullet.

“Just squeeze my shoulder, it’ll only hurt a little.” He fixed his mask settings to seek the bullet and slowly went in with a long pair of tweezers, the pain was worse with the bullet coming out than going in. You grabbed his arm so hard you could have punctured it with your bare hands, regretting your decision to save his ass as you cursed about a dozen more times. “You know, taking that bullet was a terrible idea.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” You huffed, growing more agitated as the needle entered your skin again. “Why can’t you be more grateful?”

“Because you could have died.” He took his mask off and looked you in the eyes. “And I couldn’t have lived with that.”

“And you think I could have? If you died, I’d have felt the same way.” You explained to him, tears welling just barely enough to notice. “Maybe you’re just upset you’re not the knight in shining armor.” You sarcastically teased.

“Maybe.” He answered as he cleaned the excess blood from your skin. Your eyes widened.

“What?” You simply replied.

“Maybe I’m upset I couldn’t save you.” He said, grabbing the gauze and gently wrapping the affected areas.

“You’re patching me up, so I think we’re even.” He looked up at you and shook his head. “What are you getting at, Jason?”

“You know what I’m getting at.” He said and you gently reached for his face, hand holding his chin. “Are you that surprised?”

“That your jealous, whiny ass is really just hopelessly in love with me?” You raised an eyebrow in mockery. “I might have gotten the hint somewhere down the line.”

“Doubt it.” Jason retorted.

“Yeah, why don’t you finish fixing me up first?”

taglist: @captainshazamerica // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @the-did-i-ask // @azazel-nyx // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[erinwantstowrite]

what is your favorite dinamic in the batfam ?

tim and dick. i love all the others and could go on and on about them but tim and dick hold a special place in my heart. tim showed up with a determination and a fire to help people and some of it reminded dick of how insane he was when he first became robin. tim goes to dick to tell him everything. dick was his robin, and now he's also tim's brother. often people misinterpret the red robin run and have tim hold a grudge and make dick look awful and it drives me crazy because if tim could only save one person in the world, i believe he'd always choose dick. not enough people write their brotherly dynamic the way it should be, and often push it to the side for jason. which I understand, i do, because if the circumstances had changed just a little bit i think they would have gotten along from the very start and everything would be different for them. even now as a duo they have a lot in common and are a force to be reckoned with. but dick has ALWAYS been that person for tim. they get into fights like siblings do but they care about each other and tim looks up to dick moreso than anyone. he went to dick for help before anyone else. he trusted dick. change one little thing with damian becoming robin, have tim and dick talking about it and tim making the decision the way that dick hadn't been able to when jason came around, and then tim and dick would have been equals. i fully believe tim would have gotten the nightwing mantle for a little bit and then when bruce got back, he'd have been ready for his own mantle. if tim and dick had been able to talk without damian around (and ALFRED.) then i think tim would have gotten some actual help for his mental health. and ughhhh now i feel insane about them again,,,,

[cherrysurf]

Tall blonde and evil! | Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader

chapter 9; cupcake with kids interview

After the bringing in the new year with a good party and a winning trophy life was good. You and bakugou were getting along, the public saw him in a new light, maybe very minor rumors of you having a crush on him but the public will always talk. The nice couple day break you had was amazing, you had finally caught up on sleep and your favorite shows spent more time with your cat, got new clothes for the new year and even got a new year's gift from bakugou. The only bad part to this all was—

You're new found crush on him, you found out a couple days after the ceremony it happened when you couldn’t stop thinking about him and felt empty when you were out doing something with him whether it be work or not, maybe the public was right. But you’d never tell a soul that this was embarrassing as it is the one thing you didn’t want to happen but the thing was you didn’t fall for bakugou because of his looks like every other person did, You fell for him because of the new found person you started seeing in him “the real” him as you call it him being nice and gifting you things didn’t help the emotions either it just added more fuel to the fire.

Today you and him had to head out to an interview for the new youtube channel where celebrities come and bake cupcakes with kids, were the kids ask them questions about their up and coming projects and small things about their life you were quite nervous because you know bakugou can have a bit of a temper when people ask the wrong questions it really didn’t matter who they are—

So as you two arrive on set and you see bakugou get run up on by a bunch of little kids screaming his name and telling him how cool he is, instead of him getting mad at them he’s actually laughing and thanking them. The shock that it gave you was not planned at all but it was so sweet seeing him being polite to all of them and responding to all there questions, when it came time to film it was like a switch had flipped bakugou was more talkative,attentive to make sure none of the kids got hurtr and the cupcakes didn’t get messed up. Maybe a few minor funny arguments with the kids over the dumbest thing but it was nice seeing him being so kind. The kids asked great questions and Bakugou gave them amazing advice to pursue their dreams. This only made your heart well out of the amount of kindness and adoration for him you didn’t care about right now though you were just enjoying the moment seeing him like this, something that was new to you entirely.

bakugou deciding to keep his “nice” streak going invited you out to lunch after the interview he picked out the place since he doesn’t trust your food options after he found out you don’t have proper meals sometimes “you know bakugou those kids seem to really admire you” you tease “i hope so, i try to be a good role model” he says “you’ve been doing good the start of this new year” you continue on “i guess you have been too” he says quietly, saying nice things wasn’t exactly bakugou's forte he struggled with it since he was a kid, but he’s been trying he says it’s because of new years goals but you don’t know if that’s for certain sometimes when you think you knew bakugou he’d turn around and surprise you with something completely brand new so it was hard to keep up but you did, or tried….

“hey i’m going on vacation so, you’ll have a break for a week or two” he adds “cool thanks for letting me know” you say shocked he didn’t say anything before “surprised you’re not asking me for what” he says “well i guess after you asked me to set up a dinner for you and your mom because she was visiting town i refrained asking questions like that again.” you say looking down at your food “smart.” he adds, which you nod at— how did the conversation go from casual to awkward in mere seconds you think to yourself. Lunch ended and he dropped you off. Thing was now that you felt a total shift in your dynamic with him it was weird you couldn’t explain what it was or what it meant it was just something unexplainable right now, just like your feelings.

taglist; @kalulakunundrum @sweetadonisbutbetter @rednicotine @ikissfade @bakugouswh0r3 @allurearia @themultifandomgirl @junehasnotbeenfound @darhinadadragon @kodzubaby @harryzcherry @sahrii @kholethecutie @s4ikooo1 @babylambdietcoke @lover-no-lover61 @sikuthealien @homeless-clown @bookaholicfangirl4life @idexmids

[emerald-truth]

I probably should keep this in the tags but I had too much to say so it's going on the post sorry op (what usually happens when I start talking about remington steele)

First of all being completely committed to each other from the start is a big way in which Mulder and Scully are different from Remington and Laura because like op said Mulder and Scully weren't intended to be a will they won't they romance. I appreciate this point being made because I think I tend to think of them as more similar than they really are myself.

It's also my feeling that although Moonlighting became the blueprint for will they won't they, Moonlighting was inspired by Remington Steele, and it took out a lot of the things I like that X Files put back. Which means that although rs is a will they won't they like moonlighting and cheers, it has more in common with X Files than most shows like that.

I think it's really interesting that op talks in the tags about the distinction between romcom and noir, because although Moonlighting references noir frequently, rs draws a lot more on noir tropes in the main characters' relationship even though it is a romcom. Remington and Laura don't fall for each other immediately like Mulder and Scully, but they're also not an intellectual vs everyman relationship.

Personally, I don't like Moonlighting because I think it's misogynistic and takes David's side too often (like op said about the everyman being 'right all along'). But Mulder and Remington aren't the everyman and they aren't designed for men to identify with, they're more like romanticized sad boys. I think this contributes to both of their shows being more popular with women, especially because their disagreements are also framed as being personal rather than about men vs women.

Both of the shows also involve an establishment woman vs anti-establishment man which in rs is clearly intended to be a genderbend of classic noir tropes, but it comes out in x files too (it just happens faster) with the woman initially seeking to bring the man into the establishment but ending up convinced by the man to leave the establishment. I think this is a way more interesting dynamic and resolution than the stereotypical meeting in the middle, but maybe I just prefer noir to romcoms.

Also thanks for reminding me I reeeeeally need to watch avengers

i'm going to say something brave and controversial: I don't think Booth and Bones, Castle and Becket, Jane and Lisbon, or any similar bickering TV pairings are trying to recapture the Mulder and Scully format or magic at all. Mulder-and-Scully are an outlier in the television pairing landscape. They fell and love and were ride or die for each other immediately. They didn't agree on various external subjects but they never had to 'learn to tolerate each other,' and never thought the other one was stupid and backward, they eagerly tossed out any interpersonal boundaries within days of knowing each other and were ready to fight anyone who didn't take the other one seriously. They're both quite insane, and they're both serious, and neither one is the "every-man" jokester anti-intellectual. (They're actually both pro-intellectual to the point of absurdity and intellectualizing themselves out of action lol)

What Bones and Castle (etc) were doing were trying to recapture the Moonlighting magic, and the Cheers magic, and using the David and Maddie, Sam and Diane template of "the highly strung serious one" and "the lovable idiot" arguing their way into slowly, over the years, falling in love and respecting each other's viewpoint instead of just subsisting off of physical chemistry, to meet in the middle, usually with the 'serious' one loosening up, and the 'lovable jokester' settling down (but not so much that you don't still realize that his every-man viewpoint was mostly 'right all along').

This is not to say that I don't love B/B, Caskett, David and Maddie, Sam and Diane, et al. I do love them and grew up on these shows, probably even more so than MSR and The X Files. I find the thread of anti-intellectualism in some of them (especially heavy in Sam and Diane of Cheers) tiresome at times, but it is a classic, and it's also often subverted, such as with Castle's jack of all trades type of knowledge base. I just don't think any of these are the same as what The X Files did, and weren't even attempting to be the same, they were referencing a different set of cultural phenomena entirely.

(nor was the X Files trying to be 'like Moonlighting' while trying to avoid the curse, Carter has actually said he was largely inspired by Kolchek, and by the dynamic of Steed and Peel in The Avengers (UK) both of which are in a pretty different direction entirely.)

[vyl3tpwny]

genuine question: why is genesis so low on ur topsters?

also, if you can: could i hear why hawaii: part ii is rated 3.5 on ur rateyourmusic? (as opposed to like. anything higher)

(p. s. your music inspires me to be the sincerest version of myself, and for that i thank you. the impact you've had on my life is unforgettable.)

genesis isn't rated low. my number one album of all time is genesis' "the lamb lies down on broadway", for about 16 years running. my topster is organized by relative colour, it's not perfect but it just looks nice!

—

when it comes to talking about music, what i like and like about it, almost 100% of the time i NEVER want to discourage people, talk down to artists, or claim my opinion as fact. the only time i will actively talk down about art is if it's purposefully harmful (see artists like: Tom Macdonald, etc).

with that said, music by miracle musical - and by extension tally hall - often does this thing where there are a handful of really impressive, well written songs that just blow me away. but then the rest of the album outside of those handful of songs are either just ok/catchy or don't interest me very much. the tally hall gang's highs are very high, and equally their lows are just sort of pace-killers for the albums.

it's dynamics like these that prevent me from liking some of my other albums for similar problems! i think albums like queen of misfits and glitter are bogged down by an absurd amount of boring filler that could have just been left out or reworked to be more interesting, it makes it hard to ever listen to those albums front to back. ironically i don't feel that way about fairytails, my 40-song long ass album, almost everything in it still feels rather purposeful to me. i listen to my own music a lot, and once i've finished a project i tend to try and listen to it and enjoy it from an audience perspective rather than an artist one.

while i'm on the topic, i don't necessarily agree with even rating hawaii pt. ii 3.5 because in the past few years i've completely lost interest in the idea of weighing albums by arbitrary scores. nowadays i like to just give 4-5's to albums i like and then ignore anything else. it doesn't really make sense to me to assign a number score to something with good faith, other than to show that score to other people. interfacing with art is not a black and white process. despite the so-called 3.5/5.0 score i gave hawaii pt. ii whenever that was, the reality is that record has influenced me and i've enjoyed it. honestly that's what matters the most. we can sit here and talk album dynamics, technicalities, compositional proficiency, lyric profundity, and """""consistency"""""" (which is a word music critics love to throw around without actually realizing what the fuck they're talking about) all day, but what matters the most is:

Did you like the music? (Yes/No)

Did it inspire you in some way? (Yes/No) [Optional]

Does it seek to do harm? (Yes/No)

Do you respect the efforts and goals of the artist? (Yes/No) [Should always be the inverse of Question 3; i.e; if you answer No to 3, then you should answer Yes to 4]

honestly if you answer yes, yes, no, yes, then it's a good album. i really don't care. not every piece of art has to push the envelope to new heights and be the most innovative thing in the world - i mean wouldn't that be extremely fatiguing and overwhelming? everyone wants to be a critic and tear down shit that doesn't click with them within the first viewing/listen these days, i don't know why, it's probably an ego thing, bred by the echo chambers in the corners of the internet. but a lot of music criticism can be COMPLETELY discarded in favour of "this just isn't for me", and a lot of people go leaps and bounds, doing mental gymnastics over internal compensations, to just avoid saying the dreaded phrase of "this just isn't for me".

trust me, i'm someone who has immense experience with tearing other people down to compensate for my internal insecurities, it happens extremely often which is why a lot of art criticism makes ZERO fucking sense. it's never about making meaningful commentary about anything, it's always just trying to justify in the format of a dissertation - the subjective experience of "this just isn't for me".

so. do i like hawaii pt. ii? yep. is it a perfect album? no. why did i rate it 3.5? probably because at the time i wanted someone somewhere to perceive me as Very Articulated and Well Educated In The Realm of Discussing Art In Front of Other People, in Order to Appear Superior in Intellect and Refined in Taste, Because I'm Insecure Just Like Everyone Else.

[bellamygifs]

Hey, everyone! I'm quite late this year (or early depending on the point of view, I guess) but it's finally here! I'm sorry I couldn't organize an event in 2024, I was planning to do so in December but unfortunately due to work and life, I had no time but here we are now! I hope you and Bellamy will forgive me for being so late but I still hope we can give out our love to this character, who I know a lot of us still carry in our hearts!

As usually, prompts are open to not just gifs but also headcanons, fanfics, edits, moodboards, meta and anything you feel like creating! After all, the whole point of this is to celebrate our boy!

This event will run from Monday January 27th till Sunday February 2nd!

Bellamy Blake appreciation week 2025 (with an apollogetic look on 2024):

Day 1: Bellamy + home/family: here the idea is rather easy, it can be Bellamy plus what you believed was his home for him or what an ideal one would've been, it can be an AU or a gif/edit from the show that you believed represented his home and family best!

Day 2: Bellamy + Octavia/ Favorite sibling scene: Octavia's an important part of Bellamy's life, one that's controversial and either loved or hated by many of people in the fandom but still the truth remains that at their core they loved each other! Find a favorite scene or dialogue that you believed best described who they were to each other or simple a scene that you enjoyed!

Day 3: Bellamy + favorite outfit: this could be again anything-the blue or the tan shirt, the jacket, pre-ground Bellamy, janitor!Bellamy, desciple!Bellamy looking great in white! Bellamy on the ring! Anything to appreciate our boy's looks!

Day 4: Bellamy + trauma: of course Bellamy has been through a lot and I feel a bit guilty picking that subject up but I think it's important that somebody talked about that boy's feelings (since he himself isn't!). This can be a scene that you thought broke him, a scene where he shows his pain or a scene where he's mentally punishing himself! In other words, it can also be your favorite sad scene!

Day 5: Bellamy + mythology/nerd moment: this is basically celebrating our cute nerdy boy! It can be any scene where our book mythology loving nerd Bell shows his knowledge on ancient greek characters or anything that you love when it comes to this side of his character!

Day 6: Bellamy + poem: this is a bit of a challenge but here I'd like us to try and find the poem that we think best describes Bell; In simple words it can be Bellamy + favorite quote or lyrics, basically whatever you feel like! A poem can also be understood as his poetic take on life and what he thought was his poem on the show (another character or a particular event!) Basically you can run wild and free!

Day 7: Free choice: as usually this can be anything. AU gif or edit, favorite moment, favorite dynamic with other characters, a celebration post about our boy! Whatever comes to mind!

You can tag your creations with #bbaw25 or #bellamyblakeappreciation2025 so we can reblog them!

[fadelbison]

Of Boats and Drama; The Turning Tides on Kant and Bison's Compatibility

obsessed with how when its during their make believe phase, when fadel says "I think I love you" to Style, Style doesn't say it back and instead just kisses him at the end of ep. 6 and during the kantbison parallel at the start of ep7 when Bison says "I love you" to Kant, Kant says "I love you" back but clearly there's baggage even if he's not lying outright.

But after the brothers kidnap their respective lovers its Style that fronts with the I love you that perplexes Fadel

and its bison that wants to hear it

but Kant jumps into the ocean instead (like you can see the beach front okay Bison is clearly devoid of killing intent here) instead of lying to him or say the same things he's been saying to dupe him.

I really think this is where the Kant and Bison compatibility is finally starting to show. Bison clearly loves his little fantasies and make belief of romance (just like style dear fucking god). I've joked before about how bison has given to his brother the lover he had envisioned for himself - the one who will plead his love, cajole and give in.

But that guy is wrong for him.

We've seen that slightly off dynamic between Kant and Bison for 6 whole episodes. And it's killed me that people kept trying to interpret them with the same rose tinted glasses that we do for Fadel and Style. Because the FadelStyle and KantBison relationship parallels aren't meant to highlight the similarities between the couples but rather the differences, that's where the information about these characters come from.

The audience knows something that Kant doesn't in the boat scene; which is that he has this in the bag already. I think this is the infamous island Bison inherited from his dad and he's brought him here to literally just talk. I know I mentioned this already but bison literally looks like he just untied the boat from shore and let it drift on its own while waiting for Kant to wake up.

Like that has got to be the minimum legal distance that a boat needs to be from shore to be considered unmoored lol. This is 'I am using your vulnerabilities against you because love is pain' shore distance not 'dead body dumping' shore distance. The body will wash up on shore before the boat even makes it back.

But for Bison, Fadel's reasonable precautions while we talk approach was not enough. He needed the ropes, the guns, the added ocean trauma because the guns didn't feel enough to instill fear, the pretty necklace he put on just so he could rip it off his throat, everything is already high drama high fantasy for him. Bison set the stage for desperate begging and tearful confessions, things he already got at the hospital btw but that wasn't enough either.

Because.

Bison doesn't need to be sold on fantasies. He had that and it sucked for everyone involved, what he needs when he's totally out of control like this is this guy:

[screenshots of Kant telling bison he wants to talk on land and he's scared of the ocean]

For six whole episodes I saw Kant be wrong for Bison and not be able to pinpoint exactly why people cawing over how cute KantBison are bothered me so much. Until, of course, Kant finally does something right and all of a sudden it just all clicks together. Bison is boisterous, headstrong and because of his unique skillset also irresponsibly dangerous. The BDSM scene also shows that despite his best intentions, Bison can and will abuse power if given to him irresponsibly.

He doesn't need the Kant that plays along with everything he does. He needs the Kant that Kant is to everyone but him. The person that Kant is when they're together is barely even Kant. He needs the calm, level headed but fiercely devoted older brother, he needs the guy that helps a hookup out because that's his duty as a human being, he needs the guy that stole cars to keep his family fed. And I'll be really honest, that's the guy that Bison loves anyway, the one he hears about from Babe and Style and James.

What Bison needs is the quiet devotion of Kant choosing his own personal hell over playing this game and furthering any deception between them even though technically it wouldn't even be a lie (Bison is literally poised to believe him); the dogged resolve that once he's decided to do this on his own terms, it happens on his own terms.

[heyhellohihowareyou]

Grim, Adeuce, and Vee

Vee’s relationship with these three are pretty much how you would describe the Heartshackle dynamic in game

Vee cares about Grim very much and sees him as family. They take Grim and his aspirations to be a great mage really seriously. They tend to get super defensive when others make fun of him and treat him as a nuisance of sorts. It’s mostly out of projection since they themselves are used to being seen as a nuisance who won’t be able to do anything great. Vee has no complaints about being Grim’s henchhuman and even thinks it’s cool being the sidekick of a talking animal for a change. Vee has no problem taking accountability for Grim’s misdeeds but that doesn’t mean they don’t scold him when he does something wrong. Grim and Vee are glued to the hip as Grim usually rests on Vee’s head or shoulders, especially when he’s trying to be all high and mighty. Grim tends to talk for Vee a lot since Vee has the tendency to go mute or space out. Vee is really grateful for this in particular even if others would believe otherwise.

During Vee’s first meeting with Ace, they described him as “A cool, popular, and upbeat guy anyone would wanna be friends with.” They note that Ace would make fun of them to the moon and back if they ever admitted they were “charmed” by him. When his whole personality changed and he started to insult Vee along with Grim, Vee refer to him as a “Bully” of sorts. Things only got worse when he tried to duck out out of his punishment. Even then, Vee suggested as long as Ace and Grim washed 10 windows each, Vee had no problem doing 80, starting the track of Ace viewing them as a “Goody two shoes”. Vee started warming up to him more after Book 1, where they got to see a bit more of Ace’s serious side.

It was hard for Vee to pinpoint what type of person Deuce was specifically but after awhile they pinned him down as the “Reliable guy”. They do find his motivation to become and honor student to be admirable, even when his 180 personality switches kind of freak them out. Both of them are what Ace says to be “Sharing half a braincell” since both of them aren’t considered to be very bright. While Deuce and Vee tend to butt heads with Ace, when it comes to each other they usually end up on the same page. Both trying to do what they feel is the right thing. Compared to Ace however, Deuce is pretty late in figuring out what Vee is feeling in any given moment due to their lack of expressions and change of voice. Which leads to some misunderstandings where Deuce thinks he’s hurt Vee’s feelings in certain cases.

All three of them are majorly important to Vee. They are Vee’s first ever friends and the first people to ever show Vee such love and care and that made Vee like they weren’t a nuisance to be around. They are Vee’s favorite people, although they have a hard time saying that to their faces.

[signanothername]

Who do you think is the strongest Sans in the multiverse?

Hm

It really depends on what you mean by “strongest”

As the word “strong” is very vague and extremely general of a wide of various meanings

Are you talking about physical strength? Emotional strength? Mental strength? Cause each would definitely have a completely different answer

I generally find focusing on strength as a factor to think about characters extremely limiting, and very much doesn’t give justice to how complex people can be and how they work

I never really think of strength of characters much, cause the more you focus on powerscales and who’s stronger than the other, the more you forget to focus on weaknesses the characters have and how these weaknesses affect them

Of course, sometimes power is essential to think about, especially when it comes to relationships, such as in Nightmare’s relationship with MTT, as power plays a very important part, especially the big power imbalance/dynamic between Nightmare and his subordinates, as it gives you a clear image that MTT aren’t there by choice, and that they can’t escape even tho they want to, it shows the abuser and abused dynamic between them

But other times, who’s stronger doesn’t truly matter when a supposed powerful character is put into a big disadvantage, you realize that power suddenly becomes null and void and all that matters is how a said powerful character chooses to proceed from there as the weaker one

Like, if I were to believe a character is stronger than another character, I’d focus less on physical/magical strength and more on how a character can use its own strengths to make up for their weaknesses, or how weaknesses can debilitate a character’s strengths and how said character makes up for it

Of course, naturally, you’d think Nightmare would be the “strongest”, but when I truly think about my own interpretation of Nightmare, I hesitate to call him “strong”

Like of course, Nightmare is extremely powerful, his aura alone can be utilized to strike fear into another character

But then you realize, huh, as powerful as my Nightmare is he can easily be outsmarted, as Nightmare’s emotional immaturity and tendency to act on fear and his immense obsession with power can be utilized against him easily, and the fact Nightmare would only come up with excuses for his behavior than facing the consequences of his actions and reflecting on himself doesn’t truly communicate “strong” no?

Hell even if we truly talk about physical strength, Nightmare would definitely not be who’d I’d consider emotionally or physically strong, his body is as fragile just as his mind is, the only reason he’s powerful is his very essence as a negativity entity and how he utilizes that magic, the moment that magic slightly wobbles, he’s immediately defenseless

Like, if Nightmare and Killer had been in the same room, and Nightmare has been poisoned by positivity enough, he’s no longer physically, mentally, or emotionally stronger than Killer, he becomes the weaker one in that room

This doesn’t just apply to Nightmare, this applies to all characters, power and strength aren’t reliable parameters

Ok diverted so much from the question, but I can’t truly give you an answer to who I think is the strongest

The only thing I can say is that I think each character has strengths and weaknesses of their own, in all areas, whether physical, mental, emotional or otherwise, and that causes the answer to who’s the strongest to always fluctuate instead of staying on one clear cut answer

Bottom line is that I don’t think of one character to be the “strongest”, all of them are strong and weak in one or more areas

[yuukouku0x]

I know I said it would be out on Tuesday but I finished up early and I had more time on my hands then expected😼 SO HERE IS IT!!

Jayce Talis x Male reader with Vander's body type.(Reader is a blacksmith, and I know Jayce is somewhat or used to be a blacksmith but it's whatever I guess🤗)

FEM READERS DNI.

When they first meet.

- Jayce first meets you during a project requiring a custom part for one of his inventions. He’s used to polished, topside workshops, but something about the gritty, efficient nature of your blacksmith shop in the Undercity fascinates him.

- You’re older than Jayce, with a calm and steady demeanor that instantly contrasts with his excitable energy. Your broad shoulders and powerful arms catch his eye immediately, though he tries not to make it obvious.

- When you hammer away at the forge, sweat glistening on your skin, Jayce finds himself stammering through explanations of what he needs, completely distracted by your presence.

- Despite his status as a topsider, you treat him like any other customer. Your no-nonsense attitude and grounded personality intrigue him.

Starting to date.

- Jayce begins visiting your shop under the guise of needing more parts, but it’s clear to both of you that he’s just looking for an excuse to talk.

- He admires your craftsmanship and how you’re unphased by his fame or status. You even tease him a little for being a "pampered topsider," which he secretly enjoys.

- After a few weeks of building tension, Jayce nervously asks you out, stumbling over his words. You grin and tell him he didn’t need to make such a fuss—you’ve been waiting for him to say something.

- Your dates often involve quiet moments, like sharing a drink in your workshop after hours or Jayce showing you the progress of his research in his lab. He loves how you keep him grounded while still encouraging his ambitions.

The interest in your body type.

- Jayce is openly fascinated by your physique. He loves how safe and secure he feels when you’re around. Your broad shoulders and solid frame make him feel like he can lean on you when the weight of his responsibilities gets too heavy.

- He’s especially fond of wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against your chest. He jokes that you’re like his personal fortress, but he means it sincerely.

- Watching you work is one of his favorite pastimes. He’s mesmerized by the way your muscles move when you’re forging something new, and he often loses track of what he’s saying mid-sentence because he’s too busy staring.

- Jayce loves tracing the scars and callouses on your hands, seeing them as marks of your strength and hard work. He admires that you’ve built your life with your own hands.

- He’s a little possessive, but in a loving way—always eager to show people that someone as strong and capable as you is with him.

Relationship dynamics.

- You’re the steady anchor to Jayce’s boundless energy. While he’s always full of ideas and ambition, you remind him to take breaks and not overwork himself.

- Jayce is the one who tends to your wounds when your job leaves you battered or burnt. He’s surprisingly good at patching you up, though he always nags you about taking better care of yourself.

- Despite your age difference, Jayce often calls you his “wise old man,” earning him a playful glare and a swat to the arm.

- He appreciates how your strength is balanced by your gentle side—something only he gets to see fully.

- Together, you’re an unstoppable team: Jayce brings the innovation, and you bring the craftsmanship, creating something greater than either of you could achieve alone.

Jayce never thought he’d fall for someone so different from his world, but now he can’t imagine his life without you.

Jayce finds every excuse to be close to you. He’ll visit your forge under the guise of needing parts, but he really just wants to see you in your element, watching the way your muscles ripple with each swing of your hammer.

- He’s not subtle about his admiration—he’ll stand behind you while you work, arms crossed, pretending to be interested in the metalwork when he’s really just appreciating how good you look in the firelight.

- When you finally call him out on it, Jayce turns bright red, laughing sheepishly before admitting, “Can you blame me? Look at you.”

- You tease him for being so obvious, but the way his hands linger on your waist when you kiss later shows he’s not sorry at all.

- He adores the way your size makes him feel small in the best way. After a long day, he’ll press himself against you, burying his face in your chest and murmuring how safe you make him feel.

- One of his favorite things is lying in bed with you, his hands roaming across your broad shoulders and chest as he kisses you slowly, savoring every inch of you. “You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice heavy with awe.

Spicy moments?😀

- Jayce is surprisingly tactile. He loves running his hands over your body, marveling at the contrast between his smooth fingers and your rough, calloused skin. He’ll trace the curve of your muscles with his fingertips, murmuring compliments like, “You’re so strong… so perfect.”

- He gets flustered when you take the lead, pinning him against the nearest wall or lifting him effortlessly off his feet. “Damn,” he breathes, his face red but his grin wide. “You really know how to make a guy feel wanted.”

- In the privacy of your shared space, Jayce will spend hours exploring your body, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulders as his hands slide down your back. He loves how responsive you are to his touch, the way your body tenses under his palms.

- He’s incredibly vocal about how much he loves you—whether it’s murmuring sweet praises while you’re tangled together in bed or groaning softly against your neck, whispering, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

- Afterward, he’ll hold you close, his head resting on your chest as he listens to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he says, his voice filled with quiet affection.

Things he loves most.

- Jayce loves how your strength doesn’t just show in your body, but in the way you care for him. Whether it’s protecting him from the dangers of the Undercity or simply holding him close when he’s stressed, you make him feel like nothing can touch him when he’s with you.

- He admires your steady nature and the way you keep him grounded. While he’s busy dreaming of the future, you remind him to appreciate the present.

- Most of all, Jayce loves how deeply you love him in return—your touch, your words, and your actions all showing that, to you, he’s worth everything. And for that, he’s endlessly devoted to you.

I GOT A LITTLE STORY FOR Y'ALL.

Jayce leaned against the doorframe of your forge, arms crossed, watching as you worked. The heat from the furnace made the air shimmer, but it didn’t seem to bother you. Sweat trickled down your brow, your shirt clinging to your broad shoulders as you hammered a glowing piece of metal into shape.

Jayce was mesmerized.

You’d been at it for hours, muscles taut with every swing of the hammer. The sheer power in each movement left him speechless, as it always did. Your body was a masterpiece—strong, solid, and commanding.

“You gonna stand there gawking all day, or are you gonna say something?” you called over your shoulder, your voice warm and teasing.

Jayce chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. “Can you blame me?” He gestured to you, his grin wide and playful. “You’re kind of hard to ignore.”

You glanced at him with a smirk, setting the hammer down and wiping your hands on a rag. “Flattery won’t get you out of paying for this custom job, you know.”

Jayce moved behind you, sliding his arms around your waist and pressing his chest against your back. “Who said I’m trying to get out of anything?” His hands rested on your stomach, fingers splayed across the firm expanse. “I just… really like watching you work.”

You chuckled, leaning back into him. “That right?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, his voice low and full of affection. “You’re incredible, you know that? The way you move, the strength in your arms… it’s ridiculous how attractive you are.”

He let his hands wander, running them up to your chest, his fingers tracing the curves of your muscles. “You’re so solid,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Like… unshakable. It’s not just your body; it’s *you*. You make me feel like nothing in the world can touch me when I’m with you.”

You turned in his arms, raising an eyebrow as you looked down at him. “That’s a lot of sweet talk for someone who didn’t even say hello when he walked in.”

Jayce laughed, leaning up to kiss you softly. “What can I say? I got distracted.” His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer. “I love every inch of you,” he said against your lips, his tone more serious now. “Your strength, your scars, the way you carry yourself… it’s all perfect to me.”

Your hand came up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble there. “You’re a sweet talker, Jayce Talis,” you said, your voice softer now.

“Only for you,” he replied, his grin returning.

You kissed him then, slow and deep, and Jayce melted into you. He loved how solid you felt under his hands, how you held him like he was the most important thing in your world.

As the kiss broke, you rested your forehead against his. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Jayce laughed, the sound warm and bright. “Yeah, but I’ll never look as good swinging a hammer as you do.”

You grinned, pulling him closer. “Good thing you don’t need to.”

In that moment, surrounded by the heat of the forge and the weight of your arms around him, Jayce felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[grison-in-space]

It's true. I watched three seasons of the Good Doctor before I became aware of the memes making fun of Shaun's portrayal. I have complicated feelings about the show, but my feelings about the memes are a lot less complicated. A lot of the outrage about him really does feel like discomfort about the extent to which Shaun doesn't mask and overloads "publicly."

I have had a meltdown like Shaun's over my career, which I have worked very hard on for a very long time, and which I nearly lost (and thought then that I had lost) because I fucked up a social interaction. It was scary. I have more control over my life now and I can usually avoid experiences that knock me into meltdown as an adult, but not always.

The memes remind me of how my mother used to make fun of me for the way I held my chin when I got mad. They remind me of being teased for not successfully masking or performing. They remind me of consequences.

I think you are right on the money about how high masking people react to this show, because it is in many ways about being visibly autistic in a way that can't be masked. The thing about masking is that you usually learn to do it by positive punishment—that is, failing to correctly mask is a trigger for something unpleasant to happen to you socially. It was for me. So seeing a character failing to mask, even when masking might fix a social problem, becomes really frightening and disturbing, because you have been conditioned that this means a consequence is coming. Especially if you've built up your masking reflexes so they're semiconscious, so you're not very aware of them, it looks like a character failing to do the obvious things to keep them from falling into big scary social consequence traps. Human brains are very good at constructing superficial reasons for why the emotional reactions we have make sense, so I'm not surprised that a lot of people automatically go "this character portrayal stresses me out, so the problem is the portrayal, which is bad."

Knowing why it happens doesn't make the phenomenon good or okay. It doesn't stop the byblow damage you're describing either, Loaf. It just sucks. Because the ability to successfully mask, in a person who has the capacity to do so, is a function of stress and support: the capacity to mask can and does fuck off if the level of external stress can't be matched by the supports and internal energy reserves a person has access to.

Masking is just passing. Passing can be revoked at any time and it's expensive. It's just... what do you think the self under the mask looks like? Do you think we get trained to mask because the autistic person under that mask is exactly like the shape of the performance we deliver while wearing it? Do you think that person is free of stilted words or gutteral noises or meltdowns or hopeful offers to talk about special interests or that special rigidity of the mind that won't let something go even when that would be obviously better for the social dynamic or all the rest of it?

never watched the good doctor n never plan to. so maybe not good person talk about this. but never plan to watch it because in fact kinda hate it (mainly because once someone be ableist about high support needs autism n excuse it using shaun & say how they know what HSN is because they call shaun is, n quoting, “very high support needs” n he very. much. not. but anyway) — so this also give weight to what am going say

do see how people make fun of shaun (main character). like “i am a surgeon/sturgeon” memes n so much more. my favorite show house md & keep especially see meme compare house with sean autism to make fun of shaun—make fun of irony of “shaun be explicit autistic but bad autism representation & house not supposed to be / not explicit (depend on interpretation) autistic but somehow way better autism rep than shaun” situation. like:

[id: two meme compare sean with house about autism.

1: left side is shaun screaming/meltdown in “i am surgeon” scene with “bad autism rep” write on top. right side house in prison suit with “good autism rep” write on top.

2: twitter screenshot from rooster @/ househiscane. left is picture of shaun n have “autistic doctor” non capitalized on top. right is picture of house with stereo n “AUTISTIC doctor” on top, with “AUTISTIC” in all caps. at time of screenshot, have 648k views.

end id]

n again, never watched the good doctor. so maybe in show there truly part where not great n ableist n problematic autism rep. BUT.

from all these memes. n all these people justify how they hate sean how them make fun of shaun is okay. don’t see evidence for how shaun & show represent autism in some truly problematic way.

instead. see visibly autistic person. see people describe trait of visibly autistic person. see people make fun of visibly autistic traits. see a visibly autistic and low support needs person.

see same rhetoric used by non autistic AND AUTISTIC people to make fun of n be ableist to me, visible autistic (high support needs) person. that am embarrassing. that am stereotype. that “no autistic person act like this.” that “you make me embarrassed be autistic.” that am make autistic people look bad. the r word.

every single one of those thing, have heard it also be use call shaun.

versus. house, he’s asshole, he’s visibly asshole, n because of that he’s dynamic he’s well rounded. but he’s not visibly autistic.

n so suspect in big part, or even, entire unspoken point of these comparison, or meme against shaun, is because. house is not visibly autistic so relatable n thus good to audience of mainly high masking autustics. he the real autism rep. he the good autism rep. he the ACTUALLY autistic rep. shaun is visibly autistic n thus not.

from crowd that champion unmasking! be free! be yourself! but say nothing, or in this case nothing good, about people who cannot mask or be put in genuine life danger if choose unmask. from crowd that say autistic meltdowns not tantrum! normalize autistic meltdown! it’s okay! don’t record or make fun of or comment on someone’s worst moments! but make fun of visibly autistic person meltdown in public.

although should not be surprised. should not be! this same crowd that not know what visibly autistic actually is. or even not believe it even exist. same crowd that think unmasking will make them visibly autistic same way it make me visibly autistic. same crowd that think it mean just some occasional happy hand flapping. same crowd that call themselves visibly autistic because they do those occasional hand flapping n in next sentence complain about be told “but you don’t look autistic.” same crowd that say autism not have look. same crowd that permanently group autism into invisibly disability.

same crowd that cannot fathom autistic person different from them.

same crowd that bully n exclude n speak over n be ableist towards me.

like it the autism show to acceptable make fun of, it the autistic character to acceptable make fun of. it the show n character where u can let out all your offensive edgy ableist anti-autistic feelings, go mask off about it. it acceptable. everyone do it. even autistic people do it. especially autistic people do it. especially high masking autistic do it. autistic people who do it n justify it okay because they autistic n that grant them free pass.

criticize how any show represent autism badly problematically. that okay! that acceptable! that great! not telling you you can’t. — don’t doubt in the good doctor there not parts that make you wince in bad way because it speak terribly for autism.

but if all your “reasoning” for why that autism rep is. traits of visibly autistic person. or, (not applicable in this case), traits of high support needs & traits of level 2/3 autism. it’s not criticism you just ableist.

you all say visibly autistic people get enough rep already that it’s time for low support needs invisibly autistic high masking autistic women (& white—but shhh that part shouldn’t be say out loud) be in center of representation.

you all can’t even handle a visibly autistic character that’s low support needs and CISGENDER WHITE MAN.

once again. am hate this fucking show. n am here defending it.

is it genuinely bad rep or is character just visibly autistic.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

It's been over a month, but I’m back to talk about reincarnation AU:

We haven’t talked about the setting of this AU, but I’m thinking of just putting the characters in a world like ours so that they can process what has happened to them in their previous lives away from the Segyein and what they put them through.

Previously you brought up the idea of Till running away from Ivan when he finally finds him because he doesn’t want to intrude on Ivan’s new life. I like this idea, especially if Till has come to realize how much of Ivan's previous life revolved around him, so he’s like, “Even though I want closure, I would rather Ivan be happy this time around, even if that means we don’t resolve what happened between us before.” I think that would be an interesting development for him, especially if he started out his quest of trying to find Ivan headstrong and maybe even a bit mad at him. Of course Ivan goes and confronts him, though. He’s been making sure that he’s out of Till’s way this time around, so there's no way Till being here is a coincidence.

The dynamic gets turned on its head like you said before, with Till trying to leave Ivan alone because he thinks Ivan is trying to move on completely from his past life and Ivan trying to get to Till because he thinks Till wants closure for what happened between them (although his idea of closure isn’t Till trying again with him but instead Till cutting the tie between them properly instead of the avoiding Ivan’s been doing).

After they reconcile and Till makes it clear that he’s missed Ivan and has always cared about him, Ivan starts trying to go back to his old ways or, more accurately, tries to be more like the person he was before.

He doesn’t like his old self. He doesn’t really like himself now either, but he definitely doesn’t like his old self. But still he tries to go back because he feels guilty about not being the person Till’s been looking for all this time. He very much still is the same person and knows that in a self-hating kind of way, but also he thinks he’s changed too much from who Till remembered him being, and he doesn’t want to disappoint him.

Ivan’s goal up until Till came back into his life (besides avoiding him) has been to live as comfortably as he can, but he’s willing to trade that away to be the person Till needs/wants him to be. Till’s always known him to have short hair, so he’ll cut it! (He likes having his hair long.) Till thinks he should start singing again and even wants to perform together. Great! (He’s fine with singing, but he wouldn’t say he’s passionate about it.) He’ll even go back to that old awful schedule he had so he can try feeling like who was before!

Till will realize this eventually and confront him about it, and they’ll have to finally have that nice long talk about Ivan's willingness to throw his life away for Till (Till probably tried to have this talk with Ivan when they first met again, but Ivan can be very stubborn, so they probably didn’t get far with it).

Geo oh my god Geo I am so sorry it has taken me this long to get to this, life was just very hectic for me the last few weeks and this slipped my mind :(. I definitely agree on the idea of them being reincarnated into a more "modern" world, or a world that's akin to ours, simply for the ease of plotting and distilling their experiences down into something more translatable to the story we're trying to tell :D

The idea of TIll seeking out Ivan and then backing off after realizing that Ivan's life used to only be about Till, more or less, and this time around, Ivan has a life outside of him and Till is thoughtful enough to not want to mess that up, I love that because it shows a kind of depth to his character that doesn't really get touched on that often, I think. Additionally, since you mentioned Ivan being the one to choose to confront Till in the end, it does put the ball back in Ivan's court and gives him the ability to choose whether or not he wants Till back in his life, even though he was originally self-isolating for Till's sake.

Man oh man . . . Ivan giving his life up for Till despite living comfortably and while he wasn't happy before Till arrived per se, he wasn't miserable, and he makes himself miserable by drowning in the past, for the sake of being the person that he thinks Till wants him to be. It's funny I was actually thinking about this kind of concept last night, Ivan giving up all of these things for Till without ever asking Till if he even wants them, Till not realizing at first what's happening but once he does, he's horrified (specifically was inspired by the song Two by Sleeping at Last, "I just want to build you up, build you up, 'til you're good as new, and maybe I'll get around to fixing myself, too.") Till doesn't strike me as the type of person who would even think to try and change himself completely for another person, not necessarily because he's uncompromising (like he might try to grow/change a little bit for someone he loved) but more because I don't think he would view changing himself for someone as something that you would do out of love? Like he never tries to change for Mizi or become more palatable for her, nor does he do that for Ivan. He subtly changes, adapting to them, but that's subconscious rather than Ivan's conscious adjustment.

To be honest I think Till confronting Ivan about him changing himself for Till (to his own detriment) would honestly be a good chance for Till to be like "I sought you out because you were the guy I remembered but I stuck around because you're Ivan and I want you in my life" or something along those lines, especially because Ivan was changing to be like the person from the past, whereas Till isn't really *as* fixated on the past (just, like, as a person) and he's probably more confused as to why Ivan would try to change to be like the version of him from the past at all. But I dunno fully, it's one of those difficult things where I do feel like Till would have to corner Ivan/force him to talk about it because Ivan wouldn't talk about it willingly lmao

I adore the way you touched on Ivan's self loathing and how he would be like "I'm too much the same person (in a bad way) but I'm not enough of the person he remembers so I have to change myself" which is just so utterly Ivan that it fuckin hurts, as well as the parts where you note on the things that Till thinks are innocuous requests but Ivan takes as pledges, promises, things that he needs to "fix" about himself so that he can make Till happy OUGH gets me in deep in there like ouch owie my bones goddamn