#he’s so hard to draw but so much FUN to draw. this man is shaped

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

~

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

~

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

[dwtdog]

Nursing Home AU, from the list of reverse tropes

DNF, ~1.7k words, fun little drabble as a break from finals :33

George’s walker catches on a stray piece of carpet and he grumbles, waving off the nearby nurse who turns her head toward him. He can handle this himself, thank you very much.

He straightens his back as he nears the door that he knows opens to the room just above his, all the complaints he’s built up in the weeks since his upstairs neighbors moved in at the tip of his tongue as he raises a fist to knock, grunting slightly at the way his shoulder creaks with the effort.

After three quick, hard knocks that he’s sure will be audible through whatever hearing impairment burdens the person behind the door, he studies the decorations with a careful eye. There are unframed pictures scattered across the door, some close to falling off the weak adhesives that secure them. George has to hold himself back from pressing them back down, telling himself that whoever is pictured in them probably deserves to have their treasured family pictures swept up by the night workers.

Because they’ve made George’s life a living hell.

He didn’t think his time in a nursing home could get any worse, until this neighbor moved in. It was like they had bricks attached to the bottoms of their shoes and frequently performed tap dancing routines, or like they had a particularly rambunctious pet elephant that traipsed around the place at all hours of the day.

George had done his best to be patient. He really had, but it’d been long enough. He’s dealing with this here, and now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door handle turns, and the solid wood slowly eases open towards him. He shuffles back to avoid being hit, because he doesn’t exactly trust them to be caring of his health now.

The deep frown that he’s been wearing since he was awoken that morning by thundering footsteps directly above his bed shifts to something softer when he sees the man opening the door.

The first thing George notices about him are the eyes- a golden yellow that he knows is really green, set in a kind face weathered with smile lines. The second thing George notices is that he does not, in fact, have bricks attached to his shoes, and that brings the frown right back to his face.

“Uh- Hello. How can I help you?” the man asks, and he sounds nice enough. George thinks it’s an elaborate front.

“Are you aware,” George starts, bringing his eyes up from the mans shoes. “That there are people living below you?”

He blinks. “It would be pretty weird if they didn’t, yeah?”

“So you are aware them,” George clears his throat, crossing his arms. “That you should consider that before stomping around up here like a bull with dementia?”

George almost finds it satisfying, to watch the way his expression goes from open and friendly to sour, the way his stance comes to mirror George’s, down to the crossed arms. 

“So it’s a sin for a man to walk around his own house now is it?” he says, and George finds it hard to take him seriously with the ridiculous hat covering silvery hair- it’s pointed at the corners, taking a shape similar to the ears of a cat. “Just turn down your hearing aids.”

“Don’t need them,” George says curtly, rubbing a finger over the skin of his left ring finger, a habit he hadn’t dropped since his divorce. It draws his eyes to the same place on the man across from him, and he notices that he wears no ring either. “And it is a sin if you’re disrupting my sleep.”

He looks ready to argue back, but his eyes dart down to the movement of George’s finger, and he seems to change his mind. “Listen if you want to debate the bible, the lady three doors down can go for hours. Let’s say, instead, you come in for a cup of hot chocolate. Get all your complaining out.”

George shifts on his feet, feeling his hip pop as he does, and it reminds him that sitting down sometime soon would be nice….

“Fine. But if there’s no vodka in that chocolate I’m stealing something.”

With a small smile that makes George’s heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in decades, the man steps aside, pushing the door all the way open. “I’m Dream, by the way. I don’t think you introduced yourself.”

“George,” he replies as he steps forward, struggling for a moment to lift his walker over the edge between the hall and Dream’s carpet. “Strange name.”

Dream laughs, and George is distracted from looking over every inch of his apartment when a small animal appears, walking with its tail held high. 

“You have a cat,” he observes, and Dream turns from where he’d been pouring milk to heat up. George sets his walker to the side as he ever so carefully crouches down to pet the thing, smiling to himself when it purrs.

“He likes you,” Dream says, and there’s a note of fondness in his voice. “That’s Spirit. He probably hates my stomping just as much as you do.”

“Oh, you’re a smart one then, aren’t you,” George coos, rubbing under the cats chin. He’s a big cat, with long orange fur and some spots of gray on his muzzle, and ridiculously long whiskers that tickle where they brush against George’s leg. “You ought to bite him more. Maybe piss on his bed,” George says in a faux whiper, leaning down as much as he can.

“Oh, so now you’re trying to turn my cat against me?” Dream says, and George nearly jumps from the sudden proximity. “Need a hand up?”

George huffs, glaring at the offered hand but taking it anyway, groaning loudly as he stands. “So you can walk quietly,” he grumbles, eyeing the distance between he kitchenette and his current position.

“Only when I want to” Dream says with a wink, and George really wishes he still had his own cane- a much better weapon. “Come here, sit down before I have to call someone to help you. God forbid that new one- what’s her name- Rosa, god forbid she shows up. She’d have you on the ambulance in a matter of minutes.”

George laughs, following as Dream leads him to a chair in the living area, acutely aware of their still connected hands. “She on this floor too? Sent my neighbor to hospice for a cough. Haven’t seen her since.”

As George lowers himself onto the chair, Dream still doesn’t let his hand go, and George can feel a blush, of all things, creeping up his neck and staining his face.

“You planning to hold my hand forever, or-” George suggests, just as the microwave beeps. “Don’t tell me you microwaved the milk.”

“How else would I do it?” Dream asks, pulling his hand back and turning back to his microwaved milk. “You want peppermint?”

“I want vodka. And I don’t know, on the stove, maybe?”

“Too much work,” Dream says cheerily, and George sighs, long and exaggerated. 

He looks around Dream’s living space as he waits, noting the various pictures with his seemingly excessively large family. It’s not the only thing he’s looking for, but he can’t help but notice the lack of any sort of spouse.

“Snooping around already?” Dream asks as he returns, two steaming mugs in his hands. “You could probably find my whole life’s story on these walls.”

George meets his eye as he hands a mug over, wrapping his easily chilled hands around it gratefully. Dream takes the chair opposite his, and watches as George takes his first sip. As much as he wants to hate whatever microwaved monstrosity is swirling in the mug, he has to admit that it tastes damn good.

“‘T’s good,” he says into the mug, not missing the way Dream’s face lights up at the admission. “Family recipe?”

“Nope, all mine,” Dream says with a grin. “Come on, I know you have questions. Hit me.”

George hums, making a show of thinking it over. The burning question feels too obvious, and too revealing. He’s only just met this man a few minutes ago, he shouldn’t be asking about his love life. And yet-

“No wife?” he asks bluntly, taking a big sip right after. 

Dream laughs, setting his own mug aside as he leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “Nope. Never settled down. Always felt like I was chasing something just out of reach, like I needed to wait until the perfect person came along. And now look at me,” he laughs again, this time sounding more forced. “Left in a home to die alone. Probably doesn’t help I only realized it wasn’t a wife I should have been looking for what, ten years ago?”

George leans back in his chair, studying Dream in a new light. “Trust me, men aren’t worth it either. My husband filed for divorce, what, 20 years back? Never even bothered to tell me why. One day there, the next, gone. Took everything too.”

“That why you ended up in Florida? Don’t meet many British people around here.”

“Wanted to die under the sun,” George says easily, the alcohol warming his veins. “London was too grey, too many memories. I always loved it here.”

They sit in silence for a bit after that, only broken by Spirit jumping up to George’s lap with a loud meow.

“So no kids?” George asks, easing one of Spirit’s big paws away from where it’s kneading at his shorts, claws digging into his skin.

“You’ve got the only one on your lap,” Dream says. “Well, grandkid, technically. His mom was mine too.”

George nods, tangling his fingers in the long fur. “You ever think about second chances?”

“I think I’m on third’s by now,” Dream chuckles, meeting George’s eyes curiously. “Why, you rethinking the way you introduced yourself?”

“In your dream’s,” George says with a grin. “But I wouldn’t mind coming over again- to tell you off, probably.”

“And to pet my cat. And drink my vodka.”

“That too,” George nods. “Might need to visit a lot, then.”

“Well,” Dream shifts in his seat, and he appears to be fighting off a smile. It still reaches his eyes, and George can’t help but think of the man he sees on the walls- happy, glowing. Hopeful. “Then I guess I’d have to let you in. As an apology for the stomping.”

#cq.writing #dnf #old man yaoi 🎉 #if yall want any of the other prompts lmk this was fun

[deep-space-lines]

I am inflicting, or perhaps bestowing, upon you: Garrus as various unnecessarily sexualized references that come up if you look up refs of women with guns :)

(( @milkywayes i know we’ve like almost never interacted but the silly comment i left on your post would Not leave my brain. I need to show u what you inspired ))

#you’re welcome or i’m sorry #look at that high waisted man! he has feminine hips #top 10 birthday gifts for your alien boyfriend who you aren’t even sure celebrates birthdays: big gun. #turians look all big and intimidating until you draw one and have to figure out how to make them not look like they’re going OWO #why did i put so much effort into this #mass effect #my art #mass effect art #mass effect fanart #artists on tumblr #garrus vakarian #he’s so hard to draw but so much FUN to draw. this man is shaped

[seagull-scribbles]

He is so shaped

#rottmnt #leonardo hamato #it is so hard to draw the rise characters in my own style because the style is what makes them look like them #I did change this a bit but not really me #still it was so much fun playing with the shapes and stuff #he is so fun to draw its wild i Drew him a couple times when I first joined the fandom and then just stopped #but he is fun and I do love him #the most triangle man ever

[simonrillleyyysss]

… opinions on simon making cute little bimbo gf get off on his abs? .. 😫

i read this and audibly went ‘HELLO’

cw; afab reader, dumbification undertones

simon knows you love how strong he is—who wouldn’t?? big, beefy behemoth of a man with biceps big enough to crush watermelons, maybe even people, thighs huge enough that he could probably snap your arm with them !

“oh! wow, you have so many veins sisi!”

“yeah? all f’my girl, scare all the men off.”

you’re constantly praising him when he comes back from the gym, you’re busy pampering yourself, hair nicely doneup and makeup neatly applied, lips parting slightly as he walked through your bedroom door, sweaty n’tired

glaring back at him through your mirror, smiling softly and turning in your chair to glance at the figure, who was currently sliding his hoodie off and spraying on some deodorant, sitting in the edge of the bed.

“have fun, simon?”

“s’pose so, fuckin’ windy out there.”

spreading his legs, you giggled and gently plopped yourself down onto his thigh, hands resting against his plush chest, thumb drawing small shapes into his vest, a grin teasing the corners of your lips.

he’s so tired!! sighing and burrowing his face into your shoulder, he’s shattered—writing up reports all night, workin’ so hard f’you both :(( he knows you’re exhausted, too—pretty missus barely able to keep her droopy eyes open!

presses chaste little kisses to your neck, hand gently moving across your thigh and squishing the soft dough, watching you bat your pretty little lashes, bright eyes staring at him!

“y’tired, bird?”

“lil’ bit, yeahh..”

“m’ere, sit up.”

he instructed, laying back on the bed and cupping your bum, gently shifting you forward with no effort—sliding his vest over his head afterwards.

“you’re so strong, si! i dunno how you did that so easily!”

“yer’ like dust, fairydust, doesn’t take much effort.”

eventually, he had coerced you into grinding against him, propping himself up on the pillows slightly as you straddled his waist, clothed cunt gently grinding against his abdomen.

“oh—oh my..”

the blonde chuckled, rough hands gripping your hips and assisting you, moving your pussy back and forth across his bulky tummy, leaning up to pepper kisses along your cheeks, your pants slick with arousal :((

doesn’t let you off till you’ve cum twice! your eyes gently fluttering back and lips sealed together in a fine line, thighs gently shaking with overwhelming pleasure, patting your back when you’re done—praising you!!

“such a good girl, aintcha’?”

“did it like a fuckin’ champ, y’tired? come on, wanna sit on si’s cock? you want that?”

when you nod, he’s immediately fishing his cock from his sweatpants <3

#ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon ghost x reader #ghost smut #dilf ghost #ghost is babygirl #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #ghost simon riley #ghost x female reader #ghost x feminine reader #bimbo!reader x ghost #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost smut #💞} riley speaks<3

[itspeachyp0p]

Just think about it for a sec. Setting Valentin's Day, you not so secretively hinting what day it is, him pretending he can't exactly remember why today is so special. You’re upset no matter how much he thinks it's cute to play dumb, even if he's hiding a little surprise for you. You go out with your girls, have a little fun night out, maybe come home a lil tipsy and come home to him waiting on you in just…a robe, his boxers, or maybe fully nude and standing behind something to tease you with his V-line.

Candles illuminate the room, gifts or sweets await you on the table and he's looking at you like you're a masterpiece even with your jacket hanging off of you and still a little mad. I'm talking about the men who pick you up and put you on that table, pushing your legs as far as they’ll go with a sly grin. “What pretty? Mad at me? Lemme fix that.” is the only thing he says before pulling your panties to the side and eating you like a starved man. Sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit until you’re whining, moaning into you like he's dining on a 5-star meal. He’s not stopping until you’re crying from overstimulation, drawing every orgasm out of your body as he greedily laps at your juices and only raises his head from your thighs to chuckle at your disheveled state. “You got another in you, I know you do. No, no, let me spoil that pussy, cum in my mouth again.”

Or or .ᐟ.ᐟ

Men who are bending you over the counter and pulling whatever clothes you got on out the way once you start whining and bratting he forgot today. “Baby I didn't forget a thing, you were just being impatient.” He’s so nonchalant about it, pissing you off more as you wiggle under him only to be meant with his chest pressed against your back and his weight fully on you. “You can either cut the shit and I'll fuck you until morning or take a few spankings and no dick.” With an ultimatum like that you shape up quickly, pressing that new nail set into the countertop as he backs off you, stripping your lower half to see you're already ready for him. “Wet from just that, I haven't been giving my needy girl the attention she deserves, I'll make up for it.” He definitely makes up for it, stuffing you nice and full with his cock. Giving you long, hard and deep strokes that reach that one spot that makes you cry out, kissing your neck, whispering the nastiest things in your ear until you’re cumming all on him and he's switched paces just to hear that sweet sound of skin slapping. Maybe be fills you with his cum, maybe he pulls out and paints your ass with it. Either way you’ll have forgotten all about him making you mad.

No matter which it is he's going to pull you into his arms, holding you tightly as he whispers “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe”

Jean Kirschtein, Keigo Takami, Connie Springer, Erwin Smith, Tetsurou Kuroo, Atsumu Miya, Tooru Oikawa, Jason Todd, + Any of your favs(or JJK men but I just started it and idk who fits)

#smut imagine #imagine #x reader #quick write #attack on titan x reader #dc x reader #haikyuu x reader #my hero academia x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #connie springer x reader #erwin smith x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #miya atsumu x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

[canmom]

How do you live?

I (finally!) saw Miyazaki's new film 君たちはどう生きるか (How Do You Live?/The Boy and the Heron)! It's been out in the States for a while, and in Japan considerably longer, but it took a while to make its way over here.

I remember at the time it came out, people were having fun riffing on the incredibly cryptic marketing campaign, which consisted only of this rather abstract poster...

In the spirit of this, I resolutely avoided watching any trailers or knowing anything at all about the plot of the film. I picked up a thing or two here and there - I knew to expect some amazing Shinya Ohira animation for example, and you couldn't really avoid seeing the bird with teeth! - but overall, I had no idea.

There's plenty of great writing about this film in English already, such as kvin's fantastic sakugablog piece which discusses the physicality of Ghibli's animation, its weight and springiness, as a throughline. The stuff that kvin talks about really stood out to me as I watched this film. You can likewise read detailed interviews with Toshiyuki Inoue (fantastic interview for sakubutas) and Akihiko Yamashita on fufuro.

First up, the credits of this film are pretty much a who's who of the greatest jp animators of the last 30 years, and they've had some 7 years to cook it, so naturally this film looks fucking amazing. This is absolutely the kind of film that only Miyazaki could direct - its design language feels so familiar and yet it's iterating in all kinds of visually imaginative directions that show that yeah, the old bastard's still got it.

And like, god, man. This film's animation is really something special. Its real-world scenes in particular are full of shots that require an unbelievably strong sense of space, of both subtle and broad acting, the classic Ghibli attention to detail on mechanical objects and everyday tasks. It's full of bouncing and squishing and squeezing and oozing things. It loves to draw crowds and swarms of people and animals. It's the kind of film where any given shot would be the absolute star-of-the-show sakuga moment in just about any other anime film. If you wanted a complete statement of the Ghibli school of animation, it would be hard to do better.

And yet, for all that Miyazaki's known for his tight control over animation and heavy corrections to animators, in this film he had to step back from that kind of role and hand over the sousakkan reins to Takeshi Honda, who steps up admirably - as kvin writes above, bringing in more realist elements to the bouncy Miyazaki style to create a really effective unity that grounds all the big fantastical elements of the film and fills the first act with tension.

Alongside all that excellent key animation, the film's colour and photography departments evidently understand that well-chosen colours and good highlight shapes beat all the digital gradients and overlays you can imagine - the drawings get plenty of form from the strength of the animation, and the flat shading really pops. The backgrounds are as delicious as ever, skyscapes and vegetation and opulent interiors with the just-slightly desaturated and harmonious colours that just kind of remind you that oh yeah, it is still possible to do it this way.

Basically it's a Ghibli film lol. You know how it is.

But what of the story...? What's all this technical magic in service of?

The film's story has something of the feel of a serial story, perhaps reflecting Miyazaki's (in)famous process of working out the film gradually as he draws the storyboards. Certain ideas, like the parakeet empire, arrive in the film rather suddenly and then become fairly central to the plot. There's a clear emotional throughline, but this is not a film that is in a hurry to explain itself more than it absolutely has to. It wants to keep its magical elements numinous and mysterious. I would say, though, it's generally more satisfying in this approach than some of Miyazaki's other later films like Howl's Moving Castle, and resolves a lot more clearly.

So what is it like, About? Well, Miyazaki has been pretty open about channeling a lot of his personal relationships into the film, and a lot of it seems to reflect more or less obliquely on him. It's what they call a 'personal film'. The protagonist's position as the son of an aeroplane factory owner during WWII is straight-up from life. What about the old sorcerer, haphazardly stacking blocks to keep a world alive, and looking for someone to succeed him? The reading's kinda obvious, even if Miya himself says this guy is based on his memory of Takahata. Well, he can be both...

To say more I'm gonna have to delve into the spoiler zone. See you below the cut.

OK so! Let's try and get some thoughts in order.

first, a plot summary type of thing

Our first act introduces us to Mahito at roughly the moment his mother Hisako dies in a hospital fire. This is midway through the war, which is present mostly in the background - now and then we see soldiers marching around, and of course Mahito's dad runs a factory producing warplane parts, not entirely unlike Miyazaki's own father although seemingly a bit higher up the ladder.

We jump forward a little and Mahito's father remarries - to his deceased wife's sister, no less, and she's already pregnant. This is Natsuko, who does her best to play the role of mother, but Mahito still has big traumas and he is understandably not entirely on board with the idea of welcoming a mum 2 who looks almost exactly like mum 1. He moves with Natsuko into a huge old house complex, a mix of older Japanese architecture with a more recent Western wing where the family currently sleeps - and staffed by a small army of colourful old ladies who are eager for any canned meat or cigarettes they can get their hands on.

Also there's this freaky heron that keeps bothering Mahito. It seems to have something to do with a mysterious tower which turns out to have been built by his great-uncle. Mahito visits the tower, but can't make his way inside. Natsuko tells him not to go into the tower.

Mahito goes to school, but naturally they don't much take to the new rich kid on the block, and so after being attacked by his classmates on his way home he injures himself with a rock. (His dumbass dad is like, who did this to you son, I'll fuck 'em up.) For the rest of the movie, he has half his head shaved to accomodate a bandage, which is the sort of attention to detail this movie loves.

The heron has started growing teeth and talking to Mahito, telling him to come to the tower. Mahito is convinced it's a trap, and after a maybe-dream sequence in which Natsuko shoots an arrow to drive off the heron, he steals cigarettes from Natsuko in order to get one of the servants to sharpen his knife, and then constructs a bow and arrow out of bamboo - using a couple of the heron's feathers. Constructing the bow and arrow is shown in immense, loving detail.

In the process, he witnesses Natsuko walk into the forest, and also stumbles on a book: How Do You Live? by Genzaburō Yoshino, which contains a handwritten message from his mother. He looks at this book briefly... and this is about the extent of the connection of the film to the book, beyond thematic parallels.

The maids notice that Natsuko is missing. Mahito tells one of the maids, Kiriko, that he saw her go into the forest, and they follow, finding an old road that gives another approach to the tower. They're greated by the heron man, who is increasingly emerging from the heron's beak to reveal a big warty nose. He's some kind of like... heron selkie or something, a gnome in a heron skin. There's some wonderfully grotesque animation around this guy.

Heron dude taunts Mahito with an illusion of his mother Hisako. Mahito threatens him with the bow - the heron guy is like, do your worst, not realising it's a maaagic arrow. The arrow chases him around the room and pierces his beak, fucking up his magic. At this point, the tower master shows up and orders the heron to guide Mahito. Heron guy sends everyone through the floor into a fantastical world...

Mahito arrives in front of a huge, sinister tomb. He approaches the gate, and a swarm of pelicans walk up behind, crawling all over him and pressing him through the gate. This causes a storm to start brewing, since opening the gate seems to piss off the stones or something...

A fisher woman resembling a much younger Kiriko runs up and chases the pelicans away. She takes Mahito under her wing, explaining that this world is inhabited mostly by dead people, but there are also these little round guys called the wareware, who gain the ability to fly when they eat a fish's guts.

Kiriko, uniquely in this world, has the ability to kill, so she catches fish to sell to the other inhabitants and feed to the wareware; she and Mahito butcher a huge fish. Mahito fairly quickly figures out that she is somehow the same Kiriko that entered with him. She has tiny charms representing the other maids, which serve an apotropaic function.

That night, staying on Kiriko's huge derelict ship of a home, they watch the wareware rise into the sky to be born as humans in Mahito's world. They're attacked by the pelicans, but a fire-wielding magic user called Hisa (hmmmmmmmmmm) drives the pelicans away. Mahito shouts at her not to harm the wareware, but Kiriko assures him that more of the wareware will survive thanks to Hisa's intervention.

Later, a singed and dying pelican explains the pelicans' predicament to Mahito in a scene that calls to mind the animals in Mononoke-hime. The pelicans are foreigners in this world, they don't have anything to eat, so they take it as their role to eat the wareware. The heron man arrives on the scene too, offering to help Mahito find Natsuko as Mahito - coming in to his own as a protagonist more - buries the pelican. Mahito distrusts him but eventually Kiriko persuades them to give working together a try.

Mahito and the heron set out. As they pass through a forest, the heron reveals that thanks to Mahito's arrow, he can't fly and do heron shit anymore - and by magic law, only Mahito can fix the hole. Mahito applies his new woodworking skills to fashion a bung for the hole. The heron tries to stage a top 10 anime betrayal, but then the bung needs more work, so Mahito fixes it, and from that point on, the heron joins the party and he and Mahito are fast friends.

(You might wonder why I just call him 'the heron' and not by a name. He never gets named! He's just the heron man.)

Mahito and the heron arrive at the house of a blacksmith who's supposed to help them find Natsuko, only to find it guarded by big buff parakeet men. The parakeets are splendidly goofy round guys - they remind me of the heedra in Nausicaa. The heron draws the parakeets away, and Mahito enters the house, only to find, uh oh! More parakeets. The parakeets prepare to eat Mahito, who is not carrying a child and therefore fair game unlike Natsuko, but Hisa shows up and burns them with fire magic. She looks just like a young version of Mahito's mum! Funny that. Hisa helps Mahito escape into her house through the fire, and then takes him to infiltrate the parakeets' empire.

In the human world, the maids explain the backstory of the tower to Mahito's dad. It's a weird meteorite that came from space, it turns out, and Mahito's great-uncle built the tower on top of it before eventually disappearing inside. Mahito's dad overprepares in an elaborate getup complete with katana, and goes to try to rescue everyone.

Hisa leads Mahito to a corridor full of doors which open into all the different worlds, including his own world. Mahito briefly glimpses his dad coming to try and rescue him - the two see each other briefly, but the parakeets catch wind of the whole thing and attack, and so Mahito and Hisa have to flee back into the magical world. We see that the parakeet guys turn into regular parakeets when they come into the human world. Mahito's dad becomes convinced he turned into a parakeet.

Mahito and Hisa make their way to the delivery room where Natsuko is resting, waiting to give birth. On their way, lightning starts emerging from the stone - Hisa explains that the stone is sentient and pissed with them. Mahito insists on approaching Natsuko despite this being a huge taboo. They have a heart to heart - Natsuko's mask breaks and she tells Mahito she hates him, while he finally starts calling her mother, as he's assaulted by paper charms that tear at him violently. They part, with Hisa burning the charms to free Mahito, but it's too much and they both pass out.

Mahito dreams of meeting the sorcerer, who stacks irregularly shaped wooden blocks, and explains that stacking the blocks is necessary to maintain the world, buying a few days at a time. The sorcerer reveals the huge flying rock that is the source of his power; he also shows Mahito some blocks, but Mahito somehow divines that these blocks are 'stone for building tombs' and stained with malice. The sorcerer approvingly says this is a good sign for Mahito's ability to succeed him.

While they were asleep, the parakeets have captured Hisa and Mahito. One of them is preparing to eat Mahito, but the heron arrives just in time to save him. They Metal Gear Solid their way through the kingdom while the Parakeet King - a big swaggering guy very like the colonel in Castle in the Sky - goes to press a claim on the wizard, using Hisa and Mahitos' taboo act of entering the delivery room as a bargaining chip. There's some very funny scenes where the parakeets cheer for their king.

Mahito pursues the parakeet king, but the king destroys the staircase behind him, and talks to the sorcerer. The sorcerer is inclined to wave away the transgression, because he wants to let Mahito succeed him, but the parakeet king seems to be bringing him around. I kind of forget how this part went, but the parakeet king goes away from the sorcerer for a bit while Hisa is freed from her prison thing.

Mahito climbs back up with the heron man's help, arriving in the sorcerer's little subplane. The parakeet king quietly follows him, after telling his aides to inform his subjects he was a good king. Mahito approaches the sorcerer, who reveals he has found a new set of blocks, unstained by malice, and again invites Mahito to succeed him. Mahito says that his self-injury is proof of his malice, making him unfit for the job.

At this point, the parakeet king intervenes. Angry at all this sorcerous malarky, he desperately attempts to stack the stones himself, but when they don't stack, he flies into a rage and slices them with his sword. This naturally causes the world to start collapsing, and everyone runs to the doors to escape into the human world.

Mahito has by this point figured out that Hisa is his mum, and he asks if she really wants to go back to their world, knowing that she will very definitely die in a fire not much later. But she is naturally on board with this. Young!Kiriko goes with her, suggesting that she and Hisako entered the magical world at the same time. Meanwhile, Mahito returns to his own time, with Natsuko and the heron. All the various parakeets and pelicans come out through this door too. Old!Kiriko is restored from her apatropaic charm.

As everyone celebrates their safe return (and the appearance of a fuckton of birds), the heron tells Mahito that he ought to forget what happened in the magic world. We skip forward again, with Mahito - now with a baby sibling - setting off to Tokyo. Roll credits!

now let's comment on it

This is not a film that necessarily prioritises an internal logic playing out - new elements enter unexpectedly even quite late in the film. The sorcerer's motivation is murky until late on; the parakeets become major antagonists despite entering only halfway through the film.

There is a certain temptation, knowing how autobiographical this film is, to take it is a roman à clef. Mahito is of course a young Miyazaki; the old sorcerer's concern about finding a successor might be about Miyazaki wondering who should take over Ghibli or if it should just be allowed to die. Under this schema, the parakeets might be Ghibli's legion of fans, or the merchandising empire that prints their designs on every possible product. kvin's article develops this kind of reading, finding some angles I wouldn't have even considered, such as how the idea of weight communicated by the animation factors in to such an allegaroy. It's also something suggested in Miyazaki's own comments about the film, where the sorcerer is Takahata, the heron man is producer Toshio Suzuki...

It definitely helps to know a bit about Miyazaki's background when approaching this film. However, I think it would be reductive to go too far with this kind of reading, and take everything as an allegory for something in Miyazaki's life. The film still has to stand on its own feet!

'Coming of age' is the spin put on it by some outlets, like the BBC. And this is accurate to an extent. The arc of this film is similar to Spirited Away: Mahito starts out sullen and traumatised, but like Chihiro he transitions over the course of his journey in the magical world into the kind of determined Miyazaki protagonist we're used to. On this coming of age angle... well, also like with Chihiro, I don't find the Mahito of the first part of the film especially unsympathetic, his alienation is extremely natural given his situation. Mahito's dad kinda sucks! Living in wartime Japan also really kinda sucks, even if you're the son of a rich dude. But definitely over the course of the film Mahito has a change of heart towards Natsuko, and forms friendships that motivate him to try to protect them. His character arc definitely sees him become 'more prosocial'.

However, there's another angle that's pretty important - the idea of the weight of 'malice', the cursed existences of the pelicans and the like, and the fantasy of building a utopian world that is free of these things. This returns to a theme of Nausicaa, the manga in particular, where Nausicaa discovers that the world she knows - the toxic forest in particular - is actually an elaborate artificial system for cleansing the world of pollutants, that the clean world on the other side will be uninhabitable to her and her people, and that the architects of this system wait in stasis to replace them in this utopian future world. Nausicaa destroys them, commiting instead to an uncertain future.

In Mononoke-hime likewise, we encounter the lepers and former sex workers of Irontown clinging on to the 'cursed' world. Their extractivist project proves incredibly destructive, but the film still regards them sympathetically, and the resolution sees them perhaps finding a new way to live - and San, the feral girl, reconciling herself to the idea of humans.

Here, although the parakeet king forces the decision, Mahito has already declared that he doesn't believe he's fit to oversee a utopia, but instead that his place is in the awful, violent human world.

The film, and the book it's vaguely based on, are titled How do you live? In Japanese, that's a plural 'you' (君たち). There's a lot of ways you could read it, depending on who you take as 'you' - a child asking an adult how to live, or equally a future question of how will you live. This is a lot more explicit in the novel - which I have not read, but here is a summary courtesy of wiki:

Junichi Honda is a fifteen-year-old junior high school student, known by his nickname Koperu, after the astronomer Nicholas Copernicus. He is athletic and academically gifted, and popular at school. Koperu's father, a bank executive, passed away when he was young and he lives with his mother. His uncle (on his mother's side) lives nearby and visits frequently. Koperu and his uncle are very close. Koperu shares about his life and his uncle gives him support and advice. His uncle also documents and comments on these interactions in a diary, with the intent to eventually give the diary to Koperu. The diary writing, which is interspersed with the narrative, provides insight into the ethical and emotional trials that Koperu shared with his uncle. The diary entries, which cover themes such as "view of things", "structure of society", "relation", etc. are in the style of a note written to Koperu.[8]

Thinking like Copernicus that our Earth is a celestial body moving within the vastness of space, or thinking that our Earth is fixed at the center of the universe, are two ways of thinking that, in reality, are not only related to astronomy. Even when we think about things like the world around us or our own lives, the truth is that we are still revolving around them after all.

In the end, Koperu writes a decision on his future way of living as a reply to his uncle, and the novel ends with the narrator asking the question "how do you live?" to the reader.

The author of the novel was a socialist, who had been imprisoned by the nationalist government, and wrote the book intending to impart lessons on ethics. The version of his book published after the war was heavily edited to strip the book of political content. But it's also, perhaps paradoxically, a book that centres on very wealthy characters, aimed narrowly at educated boys, though it became a widely read classic.

Studio Ghibli's films, from both Miyazaki and Takahata, have a habit of being framed as imparting something to the younger generation - something the pair seem to have seen as a mission all the way back in the days of Panda Kopanda. For example, while Grave of the Fireflies is seen as the classic tragic war movie, for Takahata it was also aimed at criticising what he saw as the careless, consumerist generation of the 80s; the stubborn arrogance of the protagonist supposed to reflect on this. It's an attitude that also emerges in their comments about Chihiro. And, indeed, one of the first things we heard about How Do You Live? was that it was aimed towards Miyazaki's grandson - and more broadly towards that generation.

So what does this film have to say to the younger generations? Let's have a look at it from Mahito's POV.

For Mahito, the adults in his life are all pretty complicated. His father is enthusiastic and well-meaning but incredibly oblivious to what his son is going through (we might recall some of what Miyazaki wrote about his father in Starting Point, describing him as basically a grifter). Natsuko is masking pretty hard, trying to play the role of Good New Mum and connect to her newly acquired son, but there's an intrinsic distance. It is understandable that Mahito would want to reject them.

Mahito is... not entirely a passive character, he goes to some efforts to for example fashion the bow and arrow and repair the heron man's beak, but mostly he is pulled around by the plot into a strange world he doesn't understand. At first, his instinct is to retreat, even to the point of self-injury. Once he arrives in the magical world, he has acquired something of a purpose (finding Natsuko), but he gets pushed into near-disaster situations (the pelicans piling up to push him through the gate at the tomb) or stumbles into circumstances where something is expected of him (hey kid, gut this fish!). Gradually though his exposure to this world pulls him out of his shell. He runs into conflicts and injustices that seem intractable - the wareware and the pelicans - and has little power to intervene except to bury the bodies.

Eventually, he gets to carry out his main objective - finding Natsuko - but despite finally deciding to accept Natsuko as his new mother, he finds himself rejected, not just by her but also by the earth. Perhaps feeling responsible for getting her into trouble, his new objective becomes rescuing freshly-damsel'd Hisa. But now new adults want things of him - his great-uncle has decided he'd make a fine successor. Mahito has to make a decision here about what relationships he wants to commit to, what sort of life he wants to build - and he chooses the world he found so alienating at the outset of the film, the one which hurt him by taking his mother, not to the secondary-world fantasy.

It could be a 'this world is all we have' sort of statement, perhaps. But also the last act of the film feels like it gets a bit caught up in Castle in the Sky-style adventure-story beats.

I do feel like some aspects of the film ended up a little underbaked - which is an odd thing to say because it's not a short film and there is so much in it already. But Hisa for example - she's got badass powers and all, but I feel we barely get a chance to get a sense of what motivates her. Why did she enter the fantasy world? She acts at first like she doesn't know Mahito is her future son, but rapidly becomes incredibly devoted to him (in a way that reads a little romancey lmao). So much of her screen time is dedicated to having her convey the secrets of the world that it's hard to get a bead on her as a person.

Likewise, Natsuko - why did she enter this world to have her baby in this special ritual delivery chamber? She clearly knows more than most of the characters, but she gets kind of sidelined after Mahito confronts her, with wizard shit becoming more central. The animation does such a fantastic job of selling her feelings in the first part of the film that it feels like a shame that she drifts away at the end.

The progression of the film feels rather like a dream, where everything is arranged by symbolic significance to Mahito. It makes sense... on a magical level, where the secondary world is shaped primarily by parallels in the real one. So the tiny apatropaic statues of the old ladies protect him because they represent the role the real old ladies have in his life. Hisa has fire magic because Hisako died in a fire. Once Mahito has come to his personal resolutions about returning to the world, the magical one is no longer needed, and it collapses.

This is not such an uncommon role for magic in a story. In Miyazaki's own works, we have Totoro and Spirited Away, where a magical world provides direction or relief to a child's real struggles. Or take for example Okiura's film A Letter To Momo, in which the three yōkai recognise taking care of the grieving Momo as their explicit purpose as spirits. This magical world comes to Mahito to help him come to terms with losing his mother, and reorient himself towards living in a painful world.

Meanwhile, the sorcerer, whether he be Miyazaki or Takahata, is quite a distant figure. He may maintain the magical world by stacking his blocks, may be the authority which factions within it must plead to, but he also rules from afar in a vast empty palace full of long halls and open air spaces. His main company seems to be a big fucking rock, with which he made a 'contract'. He's generally handling it a bit better than, say, Ushiromiya Kinzo - he receives the parakeet king with good humour - but he's a pretty flawed god of his little world. So much of this world seems to pre-exist him, it's not something he constructed. Still, when he shows up, you pretty much have to do what he says.

If this is about Miyazaki's relation to Takahata, it seems like quite a sad portrayal. But 'unapproachable patriarch' does sorta describe their role in the studio from what I understand (c.f. Oshii's infamous article comparing them to the Kremlin).

When it comes to the question of who should succeed Miyazaki, we should probably consider the matter of Yoshifumi Kondō, who was being set up as the next big Ghibli director until his untimely death - which allegedly Takahata was willing to accept the blame for. The mythology built up around Miyazaki and Takahata is double-edged.

Here are some rather startling comments from Toshiyuki Inoue's interview. Inoue is one of the most impressive animators who ever lived in my book, the other star of the realist line besides Okiura. Just have a look at his booru page: iconic scenes from GitS, Akira, Millenium Actress; even in more recent films, he pretty much carried Maquia, and steals the show with his scenes in Miss Hokusai.

And yet even he was intimidated to be working alongside Miyazaki when he first came on board for Kiki's Delivery Service, fresh off Akira:

I believe you’ve always been a fan of Miyazaki’s, why were you scared to work with him? Toshiyuki Inoue: I had heard quite a few scary stories. A lot of acquaintances had worked on Nausicaä, Laputa and Totoro before that, so I knew how scary he could be when he got angry – I had heard stories of people being fired mid-production, things like that. How was it actually? Toshiyuki Inoue: Not as scary as I had imagined. He’d only rarely scream in the studio. But he did get angry. I’d sometimes be called to some separate room and lectured alongside Kōji Morimoto and Masaaki Endō. It felt like being in school all over again.

'Only rarely'. Honestly. Inoue describes how difficult it was for him to adapt his logical, analytical style to Ghibli's stretchy, bouncy characters - and how Miyazaki would disparage him if he, for example, drew a ship inaccurately.

For Inoue, coming back to How Do You Live was something like a 'return match'. He talks about how an older Miyazaki was no longer able to strictly correct the animation, and in general age was limiting him, but he still feels that Miyazaki is fundamentally superior:

Toshiyuki Inoue: I’ve always wished for a return match or a way to redeem myself. But even if I say that, I know I can’t even pretend to rival Miyazaki. I just can’t win. He’s extremely smart and learned, and on top of that, as an animator he always transcends common sense: he’s so talented that I know very well there’s nothing I can do against it. The more I learn about him, the more I realize I’ll never be on that level.

Miyazaki's genius is undeniable, but man... it's not a good mindset to cultivate if you want to find a successor lmao. If even Inoue doesn't feel he can measure up, who the hell could?

Mind you, it does rather seem that Miyazaki had mellowed out by the point of How Do You Live?. Here's Yamashita:

Akihiko Yamashita: As I said, the core of an animator’s job is to follow what the director asks, so whenever I had trouble with that, I’d go see Miyazaki to show him my roughs. He’d advise me on the things that were missing and reassure me about those that were good. He really helped me to gain more confidence in myself.

Reading these interviews underlines pretty hard that we shouldn't get too caught up in the mythology of Miyazaki the mighty auteur. While the story may be all on Miyazaki, and most of the character designs (with the notable exception of Natsuko)... so much of the details of the animation, the stuff that really makes this film land, is primarily shaped by everyone else - Honda in particular, but also the individual key animators who interpreted his scenes. I really need to get my hands on a copy of that Industrial History of Studio Ghibli book to get a less Miyazaki-centric perspective on the studio's history.

I do not feel, having come out of this film, any closer to knowing the answer to that eternally pressing question of how do you live - I guess I'm still working out my answer to that one, and I will be until I die. And maybe that's rather the point. I think this film still carries some of the flaws of Miyazaki's later films - despite having so many iconic scenes, it doesn't quite seem to know where it's going. But I am so glad to have seen this in the theatre (I saw it at the Prince Charles theatre in Soho with friends, the theatre was completely packed!), and glad Miyazaki managed to get this one out before he goes. Whatever happens to Ghibli without its sorcerer, it's been a hell of a thing to witness.

#anime #the boy and the heron #how do you live #studio ghibli #hayao miyazaki #film

[furrysmp]

decided to go sunbringer designs for once. I have so many words oh my god

so. uh,

I am so normal about sunbringer joel smallishbeans so normal I swear. he's planning to throw the o from his name at scott btw.

... he and scar are related but I'm not explaining further until the actual fic about it comes out because there's so much plot significance in the smallishbeans.

... grian. has a book. that he borrowed from the Library. it's very relevant I swear the concept of the library is a plot point.

Also grians eyes are technically green! With a bit of purple and just. a layer of Dark over them to make them less neon green. its not in his genetics to have neon eyes. unlike scar and I swear their eye colors are relevant but like in a weird queerplatonic scarian dl based bit in the grian chapter of the fic

Mumbo is a long cat and being held by me specifically those hands are how I draw my mc skin. I wanted to draw him as this meme since 2021 but he's very hard for me to draw so I took the one time I'll ever draw him and did this.

Jimmy is. a creature. that has bird features but also cod features bc again half of the plot of sunbringer is based on empires 1. Also the bird he's holding is singing. And joel is stealing the song bc he has music type magic.

Scott! Is the one guy I can talk about! Because he already appeared in the fic. He's part ender dragon and like. a child of stars? I have a lot of times I drew him before I think but idk how much of it I uploaded before so yeah. Please ask me about sunbringer scott smajor he's one of the only ones I can talk about and he has so much lore going for him he's so dear to me

impulse is. technically part ender dragon too? the specifics will be explained in his chapter of yhiwu (alongside. a lot of magic lore. like a lot. I have half that speech written already it's basically looking the empires fic in the eyes and going "fight me uwu")

And because impulse is aligned to shadows skizz gets to be some form of light dragon descendant? Like light isn't directly an element in the magic of this universe but it does have an equivalent in the element of Life, which connects to truth and love, whereas shadows and theatrics (and storytelling in general) is always aligned to whatever element is considered dark; in this magic system, being Void.

Tango is looking up at mumbo. thats all. I don't have a lot of notes because my tango is just a little guy.

(Etho is checking smth on his smartwatch and also doing his best to ignore bdubs rn bc bdubs is in his villain arc/hj)

... ngl the only note I have on the bdubs design is that it's accidentally inspired by my human design for the main character in the show I'm writing. Bracelets and sparkly eyes and a t-shirt and. Crimes.

also not much on the cleo design she was just fun to draw but the implications of her existence are spoilers and also not really visually indicative bc idk what a "zombie hybrid" would look like so she just looks. funky. her background is all stitched together btw I finally had a use for the dashed lines brush :D

martyn and ren are. BIG spoilers. But only to like chapter 5 of the current fic. I will say I highly enjoy their existence tho. Also my ren designs always have hawaiian patterned shirts its a personality trait he seems to possess. Also his glasses are like. a hologram? bc his ears are Dog so he cant have normal glasses w like. the things that go behind ur ears.

lizzie is. also very important. she gets the two animals thing like jimmy bc axolotl and cat were her empires animals. also her buns are heart shaped I saw some fanart of that and its really cute so I also have that. and she's also looking at the long mumbo! very confused.

bigb. scares me. like yeah secret life really be mans villain arc. I tried to reflect that by actually straight up mirroring his eyes and having him be. the only guy looking straight at u. he can see u. u can run but u cant hide. also he gets cookies. also also drawing facial hair is hard he's the only time I ever managed to make facial hair look. normal. ever. wont happen again.

gem is being adorable and also definitely a deer hybrid dont mind the magic or stuff its fine (her chapter is. third in the roster. I literally just need to finish the impulse chapter to convince myself that its ok to upload her immediately after ch2).

and pearl! who we know bc she gets first chapter of the fic and thats already out. her eyes are a bit like moons btw. also she's doing magic back at gem which is cute I think. idk.

also half of them have fancy hair shines. like joel having beans that get progressively smaller. or pearl having moons. :D

#trafficblr #traffic smp #secret life #traffic series #life series #empires smp #empiresblr #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #jimmy solidarity #grian #scott smajor #smajor1995 #smallishbeans #gtwscar #gtws #goodtimewithscar #goodtimeswithscar #solidaritygaming #impulsesv #skizzleman #tangotek #tango tek #ethoslab #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #bdouble0 #zombiecleo #martyn itlw

[amuseoffyre]

"I don't even know who I am"

What I have loved about the show from day one is that it has been an unflinching examination of identity and what makes it: the things that shape people into who they are and how that impacts on how they act and react to the world around them.

The exploration of Ed’s sense of self has been so beautifully handled and I know that if/when we get a third season, they’re going to do even more with it.

This is a character who has been raised with violence and cruelty his whole life, who was told “we’re just not those kind of people” when he yearns for something better, who killed to protect his mother, who ended up under the heel of a brutal tyrant of a captain who used sadistic punishments and death to keep his crew in line.

It’s the only life he knew and it’s the only option he sees himself as having. He has no concept of any other alternative until along comes Stede “there’s always another way” Bonnet and he’s fascinated. He even tells Stede as much the first time they met – “do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone doing something original out here? It’s impossible, man.”

Ned Lowe cements that fact in 2x06, describing Ed as a generic pirate and Ed immediately calls him out on the fact that he’s as messy as the rest of them even if he’s trying to act like he’s not, observing “It’s usually family stuff”. Stede even observes “A lot of your friends are troubled” and Ed fully admits “Yeah. Well. They’re pirates.”

There’s so much juicy meta to be had about the fact that Stede wants to desperately be a pirate and Ed doesn’t even catch that not only is Stede fully troubled but that it’s got Family Stuff etched all over it. He even says “you’ve got it all figured out”, but the Stede meta is for another day.

In S1, Ed’s in a pretty depressed space and finds a bit of a respite from it in Stede’s company. It lets him try out new things, things he didn’t think he was allowed/able to do, but he still follows a lot of the patterns of behaviour and actions that are standard in the pirate lifestyle that has been 80% of his lived experience.

He can switch violence on and off when he needs it (“next one goes through your fucking eye”), he doesn’t see anything wrong in talking about the violence he’s inflicted (“Well, this one time I was gouging an eye out of this lad’s skull”), he has a deep well of punishments that he can draw from (force-feeding body parts, mutilation, skinning, maiming) and all of these things are just so normalised for him that he’s desensitised to how horrific they are.

He’s still doing all those things while also telling stories, having fun, teaching people about fuckeries and generally being “more open and available than I’ve ever seen him”. He hasn’t wanted or needed to shed that side of his life because he’s getting the best of both worlds.

Only then Calico Jack pays a visit and ramps Ed’s behaviour up to 11 and this is the first time Stede – who is dealing with his own issues at the same time – says that there’s something wrong with the way he’s behaving.

Ed says to Stede, confused and stung, “This is who I am. This is me” when Stede points out all the behaviour he isn’t enjoying. And for him, at this point, this is him. This is what he’s grown up knowing and being. This is his lifestyle and part of the culture of the pirate community. We see it repeatedly when we see Ed encountering people from his past or in the Republic. It’s the frog-in-the-pot scenario. He’s been in the pot so long, he doesn’t know it’s been boiling the whole time.

Only the very next episode, at the academy, pared back to just be Edward Teach, born on a beach, he admits “I don’t know if I want to go back to the old days, drinking all day and forcing some bloke to eat his own toes for a laugh”. He’s been played and double-crossed by people who trusted him and he sees an alternative in Stede – “I’m your friend” Stede told him, and he wants that. He wants a friend he can trust. They can go off together, away from all that and everything’ll be fixed, right? That’ll make it all good.

And then…

And then we all know how that goes.

Briefly, very briefly he thinks he might be able to hold on to that different kind of thing, that softer, brighter world, but Izzy reminds him of the reality of their situation. That people he considers allies and friends can and will warn him to “watch his fucking step” and that this is not a world where he can let his guard down.

Either you’re part of that world or you die. Izzy said it as far back as episode 4. The only retirement they get is death. And so that’s the option Ed takes: either watch the world burn or die trying. Not like he can have anything else. For ever and ever, trapped in his life and world he has come to hate.

He sinks him into the worst of it to try and end things faster. He’s crueller. Relentless. Brutal. And no one seems to care that he’s shattering under the weight of it, until he forces their hand and goads them into killing him or letting him kill all of them.

Izzy says “we did this to him” to Stede, but neither of them seem to realise how much deeper Ed’s hurts go. Yes, they both had an impact on Ed, knocking away his sense of place and self and acceptance, but the wounds are far older and far deeper than they know.

It’s only when Ed is first forced to confront himself in the unsettling not-reality of the gravy basket that he takes the first step in understanding himself better. He’s forced to face the stuff he’s done and the worst parts of himself. He even tries to kill them, over and over again, until he realises.

I find it especially interesting that Buttons describes getting out of purgatory as “escaping”. That this is a place where you’re flayed down to the bones and forced to face the worst parts of yourself.

It’s so vital that he – and Stede – have the encounter with Anne and Mary. He’s reminded of the world that he was part of and the casual brutality that came with it. He’s shown that he and Stede could easily fall into those patterns, but instead Stede offers him honesty, comfort and the assurance that he is loved.

“A lot of your friends are troubled” Stede observes after and Ed admits that yeah, they’re pirates. He recognises that this is part of the social culture he grew up in and that it’s still impacting on him now.

But what happens next is so sweet and important. Buttons talks to him of learning to change, that nothing is fixed and that if you want to, you can change your path. And then Buttons shows him it’s possible and Ed’s face just lights up. Yes, brother. Fly. You can change things. You can choose another way.

Only it’s not simple. It’s not straightforward. With the probation period, Ed looks for quick fixes – offers to let Lucius push him overboard to get it over with and the like – but part of him still doesn’t quite get why some of the stuff he did was wrong because it was so normalised to him.

It takes Fang saying “I was terrified” to make him see it and coming from someone who has been with him for 20 years, realising someone else from within his own world was terrorised by him brings things into focus for him. That the things he thought were games weren’t. That the stuff he told himself was normal in context absolutely wasn’t normal.

And this is where Ed’s entire world view pivots. Fang shows him how to sit with himself, how to reflect. Ed takes this lesson to heart and he’s still working through it, gazing out to sea and thinking about it at the beginning of episode 6. He goes from never apologising for anything as a captain to telling both Fang and Izzy quiet, but meaningfully, “I’m sorry”.

He’s known for a long time that he’s tired of piracy, but the Ned Lowe situation is the thing to put the final nail in the coffin: this man hunted him down because of his pirating. This man hurt them all because of it. And worst of all, Ned took the man Ed loves and pushed and provoked him until Stede killed him. This was Ed’s “you defile beautiful things” moment. His face in those scenes, when he said “don’t do it, you can’t come back from this” is a call from his own experience. Stede is taking that step onto a path that Ed desperately wants to get off.

That night makes the decision for him.

The next morning, his leathers go overboard, a symbolic end to Blackbeard (and I will yell another day about him putting the proverbial beast back under the waves. Ed and his sea metaphors are gnawing me alive) and he’s happy about it, humming and hurrying back down to join Stede in their bed.

Stede doesn’t notice, though. Stede never would notice something like that being important because for him, Ed is Ed. Whatever he wears, whatever he does, he is Ed. A change of clothes doesn’t change him in Stede’s eyes.

But other people notice. Hell other people not noticing Blackbeard and only seeing some hobo dude is such a change. There’s something so significant that the people he chooses to talk to about it are the old guard in his field. He tells Jackie “it’s not a phase” and Izzy that it felt “fucking great” and both of them get it. Both of them have been there, seen it, experienced it.

Only it happens as he’s seeing Stede become what he used to be, stepping into the space he’s willingly leaving, and Stede is so happy about it. And he’s happy for Stede to have his moment and be appreciated, but it just throws into stark relief that this is absolutely not what he wants or needs right now. He still has a lot of figuring out to do and unfortunately, they’re both highly-emotional people and when they’re emotional, their communication goes down the toilet.

Once upon a time Ed said “this is who I am, this is me” to Stede, when he was acting exactly like Stede is now: raucous, drinking, chaotic and loud. Only time and reflection has let him see that wasn’t necessarily him but the environment and his circumstances shaping him to be like that, just as it's now making Stede act that way.

“I don’t even know who I am,” he admits in this argument. “I’m not ready for whatever this is”. He knows he has a lot more to figure out and because he’s latched on so hard to fishing as a place to be quiet and contemplate, that’s why he runs there. He wants to work himself out without the weight and pressure of the pirate world breathing down his neck.

Only he doesn’t talk about it, he doesn’t explain, he just tells Stede he’s leaving and Stede immediately sees it as something he’s said/done, rather than something that Ed is trying to figure out. They both hurt each other because Ed has always worried that Ed isn’t enough – the loss of the beard still weighs on them both – and that Stede is only humouring him to get Blackbeard, while Stede is so convinced that being a great pirate will mean he and Ed can be together as equals instead of him being a bumbling amateur who isn’t worthy of the man he loves, only to see it slip through his fingers.

They both need to talk to each other, but they don’t know how. Ed’s made quick, rash decisions, but they’ve come on the back of a lot of reflection and he just didn’t explain it. He’s right that he doesn’t know who he is himself. He’s never had the chance to just… take the time and figure it out. He needs that time, but they just don’t have it right now and they end up hurting each other more because of it.

I’ve said from the beginning that both of them are coming from opposite ends of the spectrum and that they’re destined to meet somewhere in the middle. Ed got his fantasies of a fancy life shattered in season one and now, Stede is seeing the impact of his pirate fantasies on the life he made for himself in season two.

Both of them are on the edge of a catastrophe curve, misunderstanding each other’s motivations and totally at odds with who they are versus who they have been told they need to be. They will get there, but two little lost boys finally taking off the rose-tinted glasses and dealing with the mess that they have carried with them their entire lives isn’t easy.

And I will fully admit I am loving it.

#ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #ofmd #ed teach #long post

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 2)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: This has gone from a oneshot to a twoshot to what’s now shaping up to be at least a five chapter story and for that I apologize. The “date” with Wally was only meant to be half a chapter and now it’s a full one. I will, in fact, learn nothing from this and will continue to accidentally increase my workload in the future. Many thanks for the kind comments on chapter 1, and I hope you enjoy chapter 2!

People who requested to be tagged; @whynot5243 @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart Y’all keep me going, I wish you the best.

Prev ——— Next

You know, maybe it was hasty to imagine Wally killing me as the worst case scenario. I think I’d take getting murdered in the woods over the uncomfortable silence I’ve been stewing in all afternoon.

Or at least, the silence is making me uncomfortable. Ever since I dragged myself out of the house to paint with him like I promised, I’ve spent damn near every minute avoiding eye contact like it’d kill me. Not that it seems to be working, as every time I glance up from my painting, I can see him out of the corner of my eye, and without fail he’s always focused on me. How he’s managed to finish his own drawing in between these moments is beyond me, but the way the easels are laid out, I can’t see his canvas anyway. There’s every chance it’s blank, and he just coerced me out here to stare at me without interruption.

But now, the sky is shifting to a myriad of colors, and I send up a silent thank you to the heavens for the excuse to leave. “Well, this has been fun,” I start, wiping the excess paint on my hands onto the apron he loaned me. “But I don’t wanna have to walk home in the dark, so I’d best be off.”

“It has been fun, hasn’t it?” After who knows how long of complete silence, his voice makes me jump slightly. Wally takes a few slow, measured steps in my direction, stopping just a little too close to my personal bubble. His eyes glued to my messy painting of the woods, and his eternal smile seems to widen. “You’re good at this.”

I manage to let out a laugh. “Not really, but I appreciate it.” I glance over my own art at the back of his easel, morbid curiosity eating away at me. As much as I want to see what the resident weirdo drew when he wasn’t trying to burn a hole in my forehead, something tells me it’s better not to know.

Wally’s head turns slightly, following my gaze to his own artwork. “Oh, do you want to see mine?” he asks, not waiting for my answer as he walks over and grabs it off the easel. He stares down at it for a moment, as if ensuring its quality, then turns it around and holding it up for me to see. “I worked hard on it. What do you think?”

Upon examination, I think I should have chosen a different neighborhood to move into, one with less terrifying residents. Staring back at me is a portrait of none other than myself. I’m sitting on a bench, which, after a moment, I recognize as the one under the apple tree where Wally had been the day prior. I look relaxed, leaning back and resting my weight on my hands behind me, my attention drawn to something off to the right. As I scan it over, I note that I wasn’t drawn with the clothes I wore today, but the ones I had on yesterday, down to finest of details. It’s beautiful, and I hate it.

I’m left frozen in place, gawking at the perfect recreation of my likeness in silence. The man doesn’t seem to mind, content to let me take in the details of his piece as he in turn observes my reaction. When I manage to pull my attention back to his face, I stammer out, “That’s…” A hell of a red flag? My worst nightmare on a canvas? A fear I’d have deemed laughable before this moment? “…incredibly realistic.”

Wally turns the painting back to himself, looking down at it with an air of fondness. “I suppose it is. I can’t take all the credit, though.” His eyes look up at me, his head unmoving. “I had a very inspiring model.”

At this, I can feel the two sides of my brain start to feud. The optimistic side makes a good effort to insist that this explains the staring, that he just wanted to get the details right and I was wrong to treat it like a problem. The more realistic side then slaps the optimistic side upside the head and points out that no amount of staring could explain the sheer level of detail in clothes that I’m not even wearing today.

My thoughts continue to conflict with each other, the turmoil so strong that I don’t even register Wally getting closer until he’s barely a foot away from me. I jolt back, nearly falling over. He seems unbothered. “Say, neighbor, would you mind helping me carry all this back to Home? The paintings are delicate, I don’t want them getting crushed.”

Part of me really wants that painting getting crushed, but I don’t dare admit that out loud. Instead, I nod. “Alright, but we gotta hurry. It’ll be dark soon.” Already the sun is casting long shadows, obscured by the trees to the west. Wally and I pack up the paints and fold up the easels, and I balance them all in my arms while he holds the canvases to his chest. Together, the two of us set off towards the house in the center of the neighborhood.

No words are exchanged as we journey through the town. He seems content with the silence, and I’m content to not have to talk to him. It seems the rest of our neighbors have called it a day, Wally and I being the only two people out and about. The weight of the supplies makes my arms ache, but if the alternative is carrying a piece of art that feels just a little too haunted for my taste, I think I can tolerate the discomfort. I don’t know how the hell he managed to drag all of this junk out in the first place.

The sun has sunk down past the horizon by the time we make it to Home, painting the sky a myriad of purples and deep blues. It takes all I have left in me not to collapse upon the porch, made all the worse by Wally’s continued nonchalance as he opens the door and beckons me inside. I brush past him into the living room, dumping my armload of supplies onto the coffee table. With a weary huff, I throw myself down onto his couch to catch my breath, my eyes drooping shut.

“You feeling alright, there, neighbor?” The sofa sinks ever so slightly as he settles down beside me. When I don’t reply, too busy staring at my eyelids and regulating my heartbeat, he speaks with what almost feels like genuine concern, “If you were getting tired, you should have spoken up. I’d have been happy to take a break.”

I shake my head. “Fine, I’m fine. Just need a minute before I head home.”

There it is again, that damn laugh. “What do you mean? This is Home.” The sound of a door squeaking registers in my periphery, and I let my eyes open, squinting against the bright colors of his house. I take a glance out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, his own are glued on my face with a smile that registers as a little too suspicious for my tastes.

An increasingly familiar sense of unease overtaking me, I push myself up and lean away from him, hoping he didn’t notice, yet knowing he did. “I mean yeah, it’s your home, Wally,” I say, “but I have my own home to get back to.”

He lets out a soft hum, and I swear his smile wavers for just a moment. “I suppose you do,” he murmurs, sounding like he was talking to himself more than me. Risking another glance, I’m surprised to see his eyes not on me, but focused on the paintings that he had leaned against his armchair. My portrait, with its flat, distracted gaze, seemed to be staring back at us from the angle at which it stood.

With this newfound distraction from his observation, I move to push myself up off the couch, snapping him out of whatever stupor he’d been wandering in. I make sure to speak before his mouth catches up to his brain. “Well, today’s been… fun, but I think I’m gonna head out.”

I feel a hand clasp around my forearm, and I barely bite back a yelp at the contact. “It’s pretty dark out there, neighbor. Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep here tonight? I think you’d be safer.”

Nope, nope, nope nope nope. I pull my arm away, praying it didn’t look as panicked as it felt. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll have to pass. It’s not that long a walk, I’ll be fine.” I step away towards the door, and my stomach sinks when I hear Wally get up as well.

As I prepare to head out, the same hand settles upon my shoulder instead. “Well, if you’re sure, I won’t stop you,” he drawls, a trace of emotion I can’t quite name evident in his tone. He slips past me, opening the door himself. He tilts his head, eyes locked on mine. “Let’s do this again sometime. Won’t that be nice?”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was a challenge. Straightening up, I stand in the doorframe and meet his stare as evenly as I can. “I’m sure it would be.” The evening chill washes over me as I exit Home. “Good night, Wally.”

“Good night, neighbor. Sleep well.” My steps are steady and even as I walk down the porch stairs, and the light still pouring out as I walk away tells me that the door is still open. That he’s still there, still watching me. I hurry along towards my house, being sure to break out of his line of sight as soon as possible. It doesn’t help with the paranoia, but I pretend it does.

Tears nearly stream down my face in relief as I enter my own home and close the door, leaning back against it and sliding down to the ground. I don’t bother getting up, not to eat, not to shower, nothing. I just sit there, alternating between keeping my eyes closed to try and relax and opening them when I see those horrible eyes taunting me in the inky black. As I feel myself drifting off, one final thought crosses into my mind:

I never got my painting back from Wally.

#yandere wally darling #wally darling x reader #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere x reader #yandere welcome home #male yandere #tw yandere #obsessive yandere #yandere #x reader #horror #ain’t he darling

[orqheuss]

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

I'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around the world. *** In the midst of the end-of-the-year Slytherin party for the graduating seventh years, Ominis hears something that makes his blood boil. *** Smut based on the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young."

word count: 6.4K

AN: I'm reposting all of my fics from ao3 on to here for easier access! We're starting with the smut.

Slytherin’s always threw the best parties. That’s what everyone said, at least. It was the eve of the last week before the seventh-year’s graduated. All of the older students gathered in the Slytherin common room, ready to shake off any stress they had about the inevitable future. The merriment flowed like the goblets filled with firewhiskey and butterbeer sloshing in their hands. The room smelled heavily like sweat, alcohol, and sex. Some couples had already retired to their respective common rooms, leaving the main living area filled with green-colored horny teenagers and a few singletons still floating around. 

Ominis stood off to the side of the party, back leaning against the cool wall of the common room. The glow of the black lake through the large cathedral style windows danced across his face, making him look ethereal. He wasn’t a fan of parties— much too loud for him. But, he promised Sebastian that he would try to have fun at the last party of their school career. Many people have approached to ask him for a dance, but he declined each time. He did not dance, even with his closest friends. His limbs were too long, too gangly to move smoothly. While he had filled out some since he was a newly minted young adult, he was still made out of all bony angles. From his vantage point in the room, he could hear absolutely everything that was happening. With his enhanced hearing, he could even go as far as pinpoint exactly where his companions were and what they were doing. He had memorized their sounds long ago— their distinct walking pattern, their strong heartbeats, their melodic voices. It was like recognizing his favorite song coming out of a gramophone across the room from him. 

Sebastian was in the far corner of the room, over by the fireplace. There were multiple, feminine shaped forms around him. Ominis could hear him laugh at something one of them said, or maybe at a joke that came out of his mouth. Either way, the man was most definitely trying to have some unseemly fun with one of his many admirers that night. His heart was beating at a steady pace in his chest; the alcohol definitely calmed his nerves. Sebastian may have been a ladies man, but he fumbled around like the best of them when he thought too hard. There was something so drawing, so enticing about him. Maybe it was the cadence that he held himself with, how he was so confident in himself but still so humble about his achievements. Or maybe it was his charismatic voice— he could charm the pants off of the Minister of Magic. Either way, Sebastian Sallow was attractive. To anyone else in the common room, it would just seem like the brunette was just using his charm on the ladies of Slytherin house. But, Ominis knew the truth; Sebastian always liked to tease him about his jealous tendencies. Even if they weren’t together, not unless they were drunk, of course, the brunette knew that it bothered the blond to his very core that he was so irresistible to the rest of the student body. Any other time of the day, or other level of sobriety, it probably would bother the Gaunt man, but he knew that once this night was over and all of the others had gone to bed, he would be in the Undercroft absolutely pounding the brattiness out of his best friend. The blond smirked to himself, looking down at his foaming drink and taking a long sip to hide his smugness. Images of the last Slytherin party filled his mind, like when Sebastian danced into their shared room and took his hand before eagerly dragging him to their secret hideaway. He remembered the feeling of his smooth skin against his fingertips as he shoved him over the arm of the settee he had conjured up and lined up with his entrance; the mental image caused the slight bulge in his trousers to jump. He was pleasantly tipsy, the alcoholic concoction that Imelda made him sending little shivers of warmth through his system and making his thoughts disapparate into a lovely fog. Oh yes, he knew that he would have a good night tonight. What he hadn’t expected was for his other best friend to be a part of it, as well. 

Ominis’ ears twitched in the direction of his female companion, hearing your twinkling giggle coming from the dance floor. He could sense the shape of your body dancing against the pelvis of someone else, someone much taller and much more muscular. The soft curves of your body were visible for once to the boy— the sound waves from the thumping music cascaded around you and formed a distinct shape in his mind. You were truly captivating, each sound you made jumped from his ears directly to his heart and more private places. A new feeling of jealousy bubbled under the surface of his skin at the idea of someone else touching you. The man’s hands were on your hips, pressing your behind into his front in a raunchy show of lust. A deep chuckle filled his ears, his eyebrows stitching together in annoyance. Weasley. That rat had his hands on his best friend, drawing those delicious mewls from your throat. He could hear your harsh breathing from his post; you were absolutely panting in need. Your hips gyrated on the redhead’s lap, swinging back and forth in captivating circles that caused Ominis’ mind to go to some dark places. He could see the shadow of the Gryffindor’s pinky enter the band of your skirt, his head tip towards your stretched taut neck, and his vision filled with red. Jealousy flooded his body at the thought of Garreth Weasley, of all people, touching something that was rightfully his . He didn’t know when his subconscious had taken ownership of you, but in that moment it was singing for revenge. 

Absolutely not. Fuck that.  

Downing the rest of his drink, the blond slammed his goblet on the nearest bookshelf and stalked towards the pair grinding on each other. Steam seemed to come out of his nose in anger like a charging bull. Grasping you by her shoulder in a strong grip, he spun you away from the redhead and pressed your backside against his front, a protective arm wrapped around the top of your chest. Ominis glowered at the startled Gryffindor, shoving a finger against his chest and sending him stumbling back slightly. 

“No Gryffindor’s allowed, get out.” 

Garreth stuttered in confusion and outrage, gesturing with his hands to the people around him. “What, who said that?” 

Ominis growled, “I did. Now leave, Weaselby, before I make you.” 

With a huff, the redhead stalked off of the dance floor, mumbling about how he didn’t even want to be there anyway. The blond smirked triumphantly in his direction, raising his hand from his side and twiddling his fingers in a snarky goodbye. The woman he had taken wiggled against his chest slightly, turning your head towards his arm and looking up at his face. 

“Ominis, what was that—”

He squeezed the arm across your chest tighter, pressing you back further into his chest. It was now or never, he supposed. He leaned down towards your ear, his hot breath fanning against your pulse point with captivating warmth. He nosed at the base of your throat, dragging the tip up, up, up and behind your ear, slightly nibbling at the cuff before pulling away and hovering his lips over your ear canal. 

“Saucy thing, you are, thinking you could dance with someone else when you belong to Sebastian and I.” 

Your breathing caught in your throat, a warmth spreading down your chest and straight down to what was between your legs at his tone of voice. You had never heard Ominis sound so hot and bothered before. 

He chuckled at how tense you had gotten, licking the edge of your ear and whispering, “Only we are allowed to touch you like that, darling.” 

Ominis had never thought these words about his companion, never once considered the idea of them being together, but something about it felt so damned right. Your heartbeat stuttered against his arm, speeding up to a rapid rate. You gasped a small sigh, your breath fluttering out of your chest in captivated bliss. 

“Ominis, I—”

“Shh, pet.” He leaned down once again and pressed his lips to the part where your shoulder met your throat, leaving a bruising kiss on the skin. “Just let me worship you.” 

He didn’t think that your heart could beat any faster— the organ thumping against your rib cage at the speed of a hummingbird's wings. Ominis smiled against your skin, lightly biting where he had kissed and beginning to move his hips against your plump rear. His hot breath fluttered over your neck and down your chest, a soft “fuck,” leaving his mouth at the new friction. The crassness of his language sent another burst of warmth to your most intimate place; the blond very rarely swore, and the taboo-ness of it sent a shiver down your spine in pleasure. You slowly began to rotate your hips against the lithe man, pressing further into his pelvic bone and feeling his prominent arousal against your lower back. Soft moans of pleasure drifted out of your parted lips, your eyes shut in ecstasy as a hand reached up and buried itself into the man’s silken hair. His other arm stretched around your waist, gripping your skin there with enough pressure to leave fingerprints on you tomorrow. If you were to die here, on that dance floor, you would consider it a blessing. 

In your state of bliss, you did not notice the second man approaching the pair of you from the front. Another pair of strong arms wrapped around your form, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other pressing the blond closer by his rear. A familiar, gruff voice filled the ears of the two. 

“Please, don’t let me stop you both from enjoying yourself.” Sebastian laughed breathily against the other side of your neck, releasing you from his grip, pulling the collar of your shirt down slightly further, and pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss on your newly exposed shoulder. You were now sandwiched between your two best friends, and Merlin, you loved every second of it. Sebastian grinded his hard-on against the front of your clothed center, drawing a startled whimper from your throat and a buck of your hips against his. He groaned softly, his hand trailing to your neck and closing around it, slightly cutting off your air supply. Ominis grasped the brunette by the scruff of his neck, pulling him slightly further into the throes of your hot bodies and pushing him to mouth at his pulse point. A near silent moan rumbled against your back, his voice bleeding into your sensitive skin and lighting your nerves on fire. 

Visions filled your mind of the two boys and what you wanted them to do to you.

You were on your back, stripped of your clothes and your legs spread and pressed up near your ears. The brunette pounded into you with the strength of ten men, sending pleasurable shock waves through your entire body and causing a cascade of moans to leave your open throat. Ominis soon joined you both in the sweet sin, crawling towards the pair of students on his hands and knees with a look of hunger decorating his face. He leaned up and whispered something in Sebastian’s ear, grinning in delighted villainy. Sebastian smirked down at you, grasping you by the hips and flipping you quickly over onto your stomach, pulling your rear towards his awaiting cock and sliding in once again. You mewled at the new angle that his hot member could reach inside you. Ominis made his way to your face, his cock swinging in your eyesight and causing your mouth to water. He lifted your chin, gently rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone and smiling down at you. He pressed the tip of his dick against your slightly parted lips, dragging it along your bottom lip and wetting it with his excitement. 

He swore at the feeling, whispering, “Be a good girl and pleasure me with your mouth. I want to feel your moans around my hard cock. Let me know how much you’re enjoying us.” 

Your jaw went slack at his words, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the dirty words that flowed from his kiss-bruised lips. He took your hair into his hand, gathering it up into a ponytail at the base of your skull before pulling you gently forward and letting your lips wrap around his head. You stuck your tongue out and ran it along the prominent vein on the underside, drawing a stuttered moan from the boy above you. The one behind you gave you a particularly harsh thrust, pressing your soft behind roughly against his crotch. You groaned at the feeling, sending vibrations around the swollen member filling your mouth and throat.

A sharp tug at your hair brought you back to reality, both boys harshly grinding against you at the same time sending a moan rocketing out of your lips. Ominis laughed behind you, leaning down and whispering in your ear, “Dirty girl! Thinking those crass things about us and what we could do to you. Were those thoughts just for me to see?” 

Fuck. You forgot he was a legilimens. 

He laughed even more when you stiffened against him in embarrassed shock. He leaned away from you, instead slightly craning his neck towards the other boy you were sandwiched between. 

“Sebastian, if only you could see the things going through her mind right now. It’s downright filthy.” 

The boy groaned at the sharp thrust the blond made against you, sending your clothed heat directly into his waiting, throbbing bulge, before humming in thought against the side of your neck. 

“I suppose we should go fulfill her dreams, then.” 

The men detached themselves from you, both grabbing a hand and pulling you towards the direction of the exit. Hoots and hollers could be heard at their back, their fellow Slytherin’s cheering them on for the show. Ominis could hear Imelda amongst the masses, cheering alongside them and shouting, “About bloody time, ya bastards!” 

You three stumbled out of the common room exit and spilled into the castle dungeon hallway, giggles wracking your frames as the warmth of firewhiskey and pure arousal burned through your bodies. Sebastian quickly turned towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist and heaving you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. You laughed hysterically, hands playing bongos against his peachy rump. He swatted yours in return, before turning towards the Grand Staircase and sprinting off towards the Undercroft, Ominis on his heels and laughing into the wind. 

The three of you bounded down the abandoned castle halls, laughter bouncing off the tall ceilings and echoing into the beautiful night sky. Ghosts watched as you all passed by, before turning their heads back towards each other and shrugging, softly smiling at the feeling of young love shedding off of the trio in waves. 

Sebastian did not place you back on the ground until you crossed the threshold of the secret hideaway. As soon as your feet touched stone once again, he quickly pulled you against his chest and brought your lips to his, teeth clashing together in his rush and desire to feel your kiss for the first time. Ominis listened to both of your sounds, his cock pulsing once again and threatening to burst through the zipper of his trousers. He quickly transformed three of the crates lined up next to each other into a large, four poster bed. He ran towards the cushioned surface, leaping into the air and body slamming on to the linen quilt adorning the top. He laughed heartily into the blanket before turning on to his back and leaning against the bed frame, his legs crossed elegantly in front of him and his arms raising to cross behind his head in relaxation. 

The brunette released you from the bruising kiss, looking over to his companion across the room and feeling a large smile stretch across his cheeks. He grasped your hand in his, pulling you towards the large bed and lifting you up, setting you down right on the edge and pushing his way between your thighs. His arms caged you on either side of your hips as his lips found yours again, tongue tracing your bottom lip and asking for access to your awaiting mouth. You laughed against his soft lips before opening yours, deepening the kiss and drawing a growl from his chest. You felt the blond behind you push your hair to the side, leaning down and nibbling at your pulse point once again. His teeth nipped at your skin before smoothing away the slight pain with his tongue, doing this all the way up your neck and stopping just below your jawbone where he sucked a dark hickey into your skin. His hands trailed down your shoulders and over your chest, slowly undoing the laces of your corset and throwing it over the side of the bed before grabbing your collared shirt by the top and pulling it apart. Buttons broke away from the fabric and scattered along the stone ground, but you couldn’t care less if they suddenly came to life and started doing a tap dance routine— you would tell them to fuck right off and leave you to the absolute pleasure you were about to experience. 

Sebastian hungrily grasped at the skin of your waist, now exposed to the cooling air of the Undercroft and littering you with goosebumps. He slid his palms up your sides before brushing his thumbs gently against the band of your brassiere, his mouth still ravishing yours. You nodded your head minutely against his lips, and he slid his fingers carefully under the fabric, tracing your rib cage and sending a shudder down your spine. Ominis put his nimble fingers to use once again, unhooking the stays at the front and sliding the straps down your shoulders before tossing the undergarment in the same direction of your shirt. 

You shifted on the bed, bringing your body to kneel in the middle of the mattress. Your chest was heaving in lust, a rouge color spreading from your cheeks to your collarbones. Sebastian stood enraptured by the rise and fall of your breasts, your nipples standing at attention in arousal. He quickly made his way fully onto the bed, kicking off his boots and yanking the tie around his neck undone before kneeling at your side, each thigh pressed on either side of yours and his hardness rubbing against the area where your thigh met your hip. He grasped at one of your breasts, shoving his face back into your neck and biting . He could hear the other man do the same on the other side of you before assuming the same position as the brunette. Ominis pawed at your other breast, taking your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb and pinching it while capturing your lips with his. Both boys kissed you with a bruising strength, biting at your bottom lip in ownership and sending fire to your loins. Sebastian reached around your hips, undoing the button at the side of your skirt and shucking it from your body, leaving you just in your knickers. Moans and whimpers filled the space around you, the three of you deep in the throes of pleasure. 

Ominis pulled away, your lips chasing his in a desperate attempt to keep the kiss going. He grabbed ahold of your throat, gently squeezing your windpipe and turning your head in his direction. He spoke directly to you, his voice flushed with absolute debauchery and seriousness. "Say the word and this stops right now. I need your explicit consent before this goes any farther."

He released your neck so you could reply to his demand. Your heart fluttered slightly at his concern for your well being; you didn't need to think hard about your decision at all. "Yes, I want this, Ominis. From the both of you." You grinned cheekily at his predatory gaze, meeting it in a silent challenge. You were nothing if not competitive. You giggled at his shift in demeanor, whispering teasingly against his lips, "My safe word is Graphorn."

The blond barked a laugh, before grasping you by the neck once again and pulling you back in for a searing kiss.

With your consent still fresh in the air, Sebastian leaned back against the plush pillows, dragging your body down with him and twisting you so your back was against his chest and his feet held your legs apart. Ominis could smell your arousal, similar to your normal scent but more musky, more primal. He licked his lips hungrily, his pupils blowing up to twice their size. He felt around the bed, finding first the brunette’s leg and then one of yours. He slotted himself between your supple thighs, elbows bent and pushing down further on both sides while his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips. He breathed hotly against your clothed sex, mouthing at the damp cloth and drawing a loud gasp from your open lips. Sebastian continued to fondle at your chest, taking turns twisting each nipple between his two fingers and squeezing at the soft flesh. Ominis turned towards your left inner thigh, placing open mouthed kisses at the burning flesh and sucking hickeys into your skin before turning to the other thigh and doing the same. More lust filled mewls spilled from your lips and were swallowed by the plush comforter below. The blond grasped at the sides of your panties, silently asking for permission to fully expose yourself to the both of them. You went to nod your head, but thought better and instead stretched your hand towards the boy, running your fingers through his hair and pulling lightly. He nipped at your hip in warning before pulling the cloth down your legs— you raising your hips slightly to help him get them all the way off. He was the one in charge tonight, not you, with your increasingly strong ancient magic and domineering personality. The hums that slid from your throat filled the blond with pride, his ego expanding tenfold. He was doing this to you; he was the one reducing your once boisterous energy to complete putty at his hands and mouth.

You were now completely nude before your best friends. Sebastian choked on his inhale at the sight of your glistening lips, absolutely dripping with arousal and emitting enough heat to keep them warm all winter. Ominis stretched his lips in a wide, toothy smile, looking very similar to the Cheshire cat, and whispered against your dripping cunt.

“You smell so wonderful. I am going to devour you.”

He then dove into your sweet paradise, lapping at your folds like a starving dog and drawing loud groans from your chest. Each flick of his tongue sent a shock wave of pleasure through your stomach, the knot in your lower abdomen beginning to form and tighten. Sebastian continued his assault on your breasts, but you craved even more. Grasping at the ends of his tie still dangling loosely around his neck, you pulled him roughly under your arm and brought his mouth level with your heaving chest. The boy got the message quickly, taking your nipple between his teeth and lightly biting— his other hand reaching around and tweaking the other once again. You cried out in pleasure, their names flowing into the air and disappearing like a puff of smoke. Ominis moved up towards your throbbing clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it. Your cries got louder, your orgasm teetering at the very edge of the precipice. Each wiggle of your hips rubbed against the straining bulge in Sebastian’s pants, causing him to groan and rut against you in desire. Ominis couldn’t take the sounds of both of your moans, his composure completely dissolving around him and leaving him panting and thrusting his hips against the silk sheets. Each of his groans sent a vibration through your clit, heightening your pleasure and sending more whimpers from your lips. 

"Fuck! Ominis, Sebastian."

You distantly remembered a conversation you had with Imelda a few days ago about his particularly long fingers when he ran his middle finger along your opening before slowly entering your pussy. Absolutely abhorrent sounds flowed from where your opening met his hand, wet noises filling the room and permeating the air with the smell of sex. He listened to your arousal spiking in captivated awe, pushing in a second finger and curling them against the spot that made you see stars. It became a competition about who would cum first, you, Sebastian, or Ominis. Both boys continued to rut against you and the bed respectively while also providing you immense amounts of pleasure. Your legs shook, an inhuman strength ripping them away from their confinement, and clamping around the face of the handsome blond. Ominis grasped onto your thigh with his free hand, shoving you deeper into his awaiting mouth. If this was where he died, he would go out a happy man. The knot in your stomach pulled taut, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips were moving against your will, circling and bucking into the air while you chased the orgasm just out of your reach. You pulled harder at the blond’s hair, a loud grunt leaving him and causing a harsh thrust against the mattress below him. One particularly hard bump downwards and against Sebastian’s cock made him exhale harshly out of his nose and roughly bite at the skin of your side to muffle his shout. You felt his teeth sink into you and draw blood, and with that little taste of pain, the knot inside you snapped and you were launched into sweet oblivion. 

Ominis happily helped you through your orgasm, gently licking the slick from your leaking cunt and cleaning up the cum that spilled out of you. You whined from over-stimulation, and with a chuckle he detached his lips from your dripping pussy and leaned up on his elbows, resting his chin against your pubic bone and listening to the sweet sounds that flowed from your throat; your drippings coated his mouth and chin, glittering in the low lamplight. 

In your blissed-out state, you decided that your boys were wearing far too many pieces of clothing. You tugged at their sleeves, hoping that they would get the message without you having to say anything. You did not trust your voice at the moment, your bones feeling like jelly inside your skin. Luckily they did, and Ominis stood up from the bed and began to quickly disrobe. Sebastian followed soon after, gently moving you from his chest and resting you against the soft pillows as you continued to hopelessly try and catch your breath. You turn to the side and gaze at your best friends, their hands fumbling uselessly around the other’s body and pulling at the cloth like it’ll come off on its own. Their mouths clashed together, uncouth moans spilling from their mouths only to be swallowed by the other. Ominis reached his hands down frantically towards Sebastian’s belt, threading the leather through the buckle and unlatching it, quickly pulling it from his belt loops and tossing it to the ground with a loud clang. Sebastian undid the buttons of the Gaunt boy’s shirt, throwing it off of his shoulders and chucking it to the ground like it affronted him. He mouthed hotly against the blond's collarbone, causing Ominis to throw his head back and whine . Pure burning heat shot down to your pussy at the sound and made your clit throb. The boy threaded his fingers through the brunette’s curly hair, gliding up the back and stopping just at the back of his skull before yanking as hard as he could. It was Sebastian’s turn to whine, and you had never heard a more beautiful, more filthy sound. Ominis let go of his hair and clasped his hand around his throat, squeezing slightly like the brunette had done to you in the common room. With his other hand, he undid the buttons of his companion’s shirt, tossing it unceremoniously somewhere in the vast cavern below Hogwarts, before shoving his trousers and pants down his toned thighs, leaving him bare and ready. Ominis then grabbed at his burning cock, giving it a sharp stroke. The brunette’s head fell back in pleasure, a silent moan leaving his open, smiling mouth. 

The blond leaned closer, whispering at the column of his neck, “You go get her ready, I’ll be there in a moment.” 

Sebastian turned towards you once again, hunger still burning in his irises, and began to climb back up the bed. He positioned himself between your spread thighs, leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hard cock rubbed against your slick folds, sending moans out of both of your lips only to be swallowed by the other. The tip of his dick found your entrance, slightly pushing in before pausing. A hiss left his clenched teeth as he clutched at the pillows on either side of your head with his fists. 

“I am going to ruin that pretty pussy of yours. Please, can I feel you?” He begged against your lips. 

“Yes, Merlin, please, yes,” you cooed at him, lashes fluttering at the sweet taste of fullness.

Slowly, he began to stretch you out, the both of you releasing relieved groans in tandem. Slight pain knit your eyebrows together, and the boy inside you kissed at the wrinkles until it disapparated into sweet pleasure. You could feel every ridge of him inside you, he filled you up so well. Needy whines left your throat at each thrust, the heat of his member absolutely setting your insides on fire. You had never been so happy to burn. You grasped at the comforter under you, your knuckles turning white in the strength of your grip. 

Just like your dream, Ominis crawled onto the bed and smiled at you like a predator hunting his prey. You were suddenly on your stomach, and Sebastian was pounding into you from behind with the greediest grip on your hips. The blond boy tilted your head up, his weeping cock inches from your mouth. 

He chuckled at your fucked-out expression. “Let’s make that dream of yours a reality, hmm?” 

You nodded, opening your mouth and allowing him to slide into your throat. He groaned at the sweet, wet feeling of your mouth around him, gathering your hair and holding it gently as he rocked his hips against you. You stuck your tongue out, letting him slide even deeper and vibrating his entire member with your moans. He gripped at your hair harder, fully fucking your face. 

His eyes shut tightly in raptured pleasure, his mouth falling open and moans leaving his throat at a volume that would make a nun blush. He groaned, whispering from his very soul, “This is so much better than I ever imagined. Take my cock just like that, my darling. You’re doing so good, sweet girl.” 

You nearly came on the spot from his filthy words. Sebastian growled behind you, thrusting faster into your boiling heat. You felt his hips stutter— he was getting close. You reached your hand down in between your legs in ecstasy, finding your button and circling it with your middle finger. Moans poured from your mouth like a leaking faucet, each vocalization sending Ominis closer to his own release. He heard the sound of you playing with yourself and he bit his lip, running his fingers through your hair in a strange moment of gentleness. 

“Yes, my darling, pleasure yourself. Make yourself cum on his delicious cock. Show us exactly what we do to you— how we make you feel.” 

Your steadily creeping second orgasm hit its all time spike at his direction. You circle your bud even faster, rocking back and meeting the brunette’s thrusts. He swore, grabbing your hips with a bruising strength as he felt you clench around him as your release tore through you. Ominis groaned at your sounds, quickly pulling his leaking member out of your mouth and edging off his orgasm. 

"Shit,” he whispered, “I have to feel your hot cunt. I need to be inside you.” 

He felt around the bed, sliding down underneath you and lining up with your bruised pussy. Sebastian stilled in his movements, pulling out and causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness inside you. He leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes and trying to steady his rapid breathing. Ominis shifted under you until he was in the perfect spot, tapping you lightly on the thigh and grabbing at your waist.

“Slide down on me, my darling. I crave you. I want your heat wrapped around me.” 

You quickly complied, spreading your shaking knees further apart and slowly lowering yourself onto his swollen cock with little assistance. Ominis’ mouth dropped open in a silent moan, the warmth and tightness around him sending stars behind his eyes. 

You groan above him, giving in to the dirty talk flowing around the room and gathering in the air, “You feel so good inside me. You both do, fuck.” 

That was enough for the blond boy to lose his last shred of composure. With renewed strength, he grabbed you by the rear and began pounding into you like an animal in heat. Both of your voices blended together in sweet, blissful harmony. 

Sebastian watched the show before him like it was the last thing he would ever see. He leaned back up on his knees behind you, spreading your cheeks and gently thumbing at your other hole. A startled gasp escaped out of your mouth and you pushed back lightly on his finger. He groaned in agony, wetting his thumb in your juices and slowly stretching you out. He didn’t know that you could get louder. If the room wasn’t so far below the school, he was sure they would somehow get caught. He carefully pumped in and out of you, feeling the other man thrusting into you through your skin. He slowly eased in two more fingers, stretching you out enough so he could fit himself inside. Once satisfied with his job, he took his still throbbing member and rubbed it along your wetness, gathering enough to serve as lube. 

He leaned down over you, the head of his cock pressing lightly against your ass, and kissed a freckle on the back of your shoulder before groaning against your skin. 

“May I please enter you again, my love? Do you think you can handle the both of us at once? You dirty girl, I know these pretty holes of yours can take it.” 

You nodded your head rapidly, nearly giving yourself whiplash in your aroused excitement— a sound very similar to the word “please” made its way out of your mewling throat. Sebastian slowly pushed in, his teeth biting into your shoulder, drawing blood once again at the tightness surrounding him, before gently thrusting in and out. You were filled to the brim with pleasure, rocking back and forth against both of your boys and matching their rhythms. The feeling of their members rubbing against each other inside of you sent both boys rocketing close to their orgasms. 

Sebastian panted against your shoulder, echoing an earlier statement from the blond below the both of you, “Merlin, you're beautiful. Touch yourself, pretty girl. Cum around our cocks.” 

You brought your hand back down to where you and Ominis were connected, rubbing frantically against your clit and speeding yourself closer to your orgasm. No words were said from the three friends, each lost in their own personal raptures. 

Stars danced behind your closed eyelids, your third orgasm crashing over you like a sudden wave, thrice as strong as the other two. You cry out both of your friend’s names, clenching around their throbbing members and sending them both into a state of pure bliss. You felt them release inside of both of your holes, their delicious cum painting your inner walls white. Your legs gave out, sending you sprawling across the chest of the blond boy under you and bringing down the brunette at your back with you. The three of you lied there for a moment, panting as the breath desperately tried to enter your lungs once again, before the blond began to struggle under the combined weight of you both. 

Now on your sides, your head resting on Ominis’ chest and Sebastian’s arm strewn across your waist, you let your eyes shut into the beginnings of a blissful sleep. The brunette took a deep breath, preparing to speak and inevitably ask what all of this means now— he was always the more anxious of the three— when the blond patted around his cheek with his hand before eventually landing across his mouth. He quietly shushed the brown eyed Slytherin, smiling in happiness and whispering against the tuft of your hair tickling his nose.

“Quiet, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Just sleep now.” 

Sebastian thought for a moment before shrugging against your back, tucking himself closer to his two best friends and digging deeper under the soft covers, a soft smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. Ominis closed his eyes, a fullness filling his chest and sending butterflies into his stomach. Yes, they would all talk about it tomorrow, and inevitably admit the feelings that they had been most definitely harboring for the others in their trio for a long while. But for now, the three students were lulled into a gentle sleep, the sounds of each other's heartbeats filling their ears and becoming the sweetest lullaby each of you had ever heard. 

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt x you #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow x reader #smut #masterlist #sebastian sallow smut #ominis gaunt smut

[justmediocrewriting]

Oh hello!! I read your koby writing and loved it!! You have a talent for writing 🩷 I was wondering if you could do a zoro x mermaid!reader who tries to lure them with a siren song but it only works on men so nami and robin fight back but not before reader can get her hands on zoro and steal him away! Maybe some steamy scenes back at her home/cave or something 😏😏

Lost In The Siren’s Song {r.z}

Summary: every creature has to eat. It’s the law of nature — and some creatures don’t have the most humane diets. You were more than aware of this, and even though you weren’t proud of what you had to do, you also knew it was a necessity, albeit one that was hard for you to stand — but it was made a bit more endurable when your prey was this alluring.

Genre: fantasy, smut, please do not read if you are not 18+!

Pairing: Zoro x fem!siren!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: ✅

Warnings: sexual content (fairly explicit), non-con elements, language, themes of violence and/or gore, please let me know if you noticed any that I missed

A/n: before diving into this, I first want to say thank you so much for this request nonnie! It was such a pleasure (wink wink) to write, and I’ve never actually written anything in a prospect of a creature that isn’t human, and the fantasy element was definitely a joy to indulge in! Also, in folklore, sirens are creatures that lure men, so in my mind (and for the ease of this fic), I decided that sirens as a species feed on the desire of human men (much like a succubus), and therefore do not need to kill men after feeding (most do, however). I did have the OPLA!Zoro in mind when writing this, but I tried to write the story in a way in which you can imagine it as his anime counterpart instead. I really had fun tweaking this around and creating the world for it, so again, thank you so much! I hope everyone can enjoy this ❤️❤️

{=================================}

You’d never before had a victim that was so receptive.

The swordsman was panting, soaked trousers clinging to the shape of his tenting dick, his tan skin flushed so prettily and pupils blown wide as he stared at you with something akin to reverence; it was truly a sight, and the lust pouring from his pores and seeping into yours was the warmest and most satiating you’d ever had.

The man’s expression wasn’t exactly one that you hadn’t seen before — nearly every man you’d lured to your cave wore the same one when under the entrancement of your voice, but somehow, the expression was just breathtaking on this man’s face, and it had your skin flaming in ways you’d never experienced before. Perhaps it was due to him being quite possibly the most attractive mortal you’d ever captured — his cropped green hair accentuated his tan skin, and his shoulders and chest were broad, leading down to slim but well muscled abdomen. The rather large cock standing straight at attention in his trousers was just a bonus.

You swallowed thickly as arousal stirred in your gut, the sensation throwing you slightly off-kilter; you’d fed many times, but that’s all it had ever been to you: feeding. A simple necessity for your survival, and one that you found rather unpleasant. Luring men from ships and dragging them all the way to your den (and the subsequent act of touching them to draw out the most lust you could) wasn’t the easiest thing, and this catch was much harder to retrieve, given that the swordsman’s crew had two women on board, which was not something you encountered often — being as they were resistant to your voice, it was difficult to snatch the man, but somehow you had managed and returned to your cave with minor wounds, just a few scratches and bruises to lick later.

“I won’t kill you,” you assured the man. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to truly decipher your words in his current state, nor would he feel anything other than burning need, you always made sure to promise your victims that their lives were not forfeit by you; unlike most of your kind, you knew that killing off the prey was not a necessity, so you didn’t indulge in it. The man simply blinked at you, eyes hazy and unfocused and swirling with arousal, never moving from your figure. Even as hazy and unfocused as they were, they practically seemed to pierce through you, and the onyx hue was entrancing in a way that you’d never seen a mortal possess.

Your hand twitched with the sudden urge to feel him, to roam over his body and pull the clothes off of his skin, and so you did — your scales were long gone by now, replaced instead by smooth, soft legs, which you used to shuffle yourself closer to the man. It was a little known fact about sirens, that you were not, in fact, stuck in one form; it changed, and after enough exposure to dry air you could easily pass as a human.

The swordsman sucked in a sharp breath when your fingers danced along his collar bone, and his hips thrust wildly into the air, a groan slipping past his lips as his hardened member grazed against the confines of his wet trousers. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Being under the effects of your song was akin to being under the effects of powerful aphrodisiacs, and you had no doubt that the poor man was in a lot of pain from it — especially since he wouldn’t be able to touch you, not unless you gave him explicit command to.

“Do you want me to touch you?” You whispered into the swordsman’s ear, fingers still trailing along the jut of his collarbone and just barely dipping into the collar of his shirt, and from your close proximity to him, you felt more than saw his eager nodding. His breathy little pants and desperate hip undulations were really beginning to affect you, your cunt feeling extremely wet and hot, and you were taken aback by the sheer amount of desperate want you felt coursing through your veins.

You’d never before wanted your prey so carnally.

“I’ll make it better, as long as you keep wanting me.” You purred into the man’s ear, finding that you were the labored rise and fall of his breaths beneath your fingertips as you used one of your sharp nails to slice through the fabric of his shirt, careful not to damage the taut skin beneath. As your hand slithered further down his torso, the lust being pumped into the air gradually increased, and the man let out small, breathy whimpers and pleas under his breath that had your hips tingling.

“Shh,” you cooed, half because you wanted to comfort him and half because hearing his voice was doing things, and it felt too dangerous for you — there was a sinking wonderment in your gut of who was more entranced by who.

When your hand finally enclosed around the damp bulge of the man’s dick, many things happened simultaneously — the man’s hips arched up in a desperate thrust, a loud, guttural groan slipping past his lips, and you gasped when your entire body flooded with warmth as lust filled you nearly to bursting, lighting your nerves in a way that made you feel as if you were feeling what the man was.

“Please, please, need you — so beautiful, need you so bad.” The man’s voice was hoarse and broken, and it was the first real sentence he’d said, and his voice sounded so beautiful, so tantalizing, and the way his lips curved around each word filled you with a desire that you’d never had before — and you were but a helpless victim to it.

Electricity skirted across every inch of your skin when you pressed your lips against the man’s in a hungry kiss, swallowing every groan and pant and moan down like a beast starved. Goaded and fueled by the lust swirling under your skin — lust that you recognized as the man’s, and even more frighteningly, your own — you swung a leg over him and clambered atop his lap, settling your overheated core directly on the bulge of his dick. You couldn’t help the moan that the sensation pulled from your chest, and the man drank it down like the sweetest nectar, and his tongue plunged into your mouth, seeking your own.

The sensation of his wet tongue wrestling with yours completely wiped away any coherent thoughts your brain would have managed as the lust brimming within your body hit a spilling point, and you began to gyrate your hips at a rapid pace. The drag of your clit against the fabric of his trousers was rough but rich with friction, and the heat of his clothed cock seemed to radiate into your lower half completely. With how fogged your mind and body was, it didn’t even occur to you to wonder how the man had somehow broken from his frozen state without your command when his hands bruised your hips in a vice grip — all you could think was that it felt good, and your entire lower half exploded with harsh tingles when he took control over your movement, dragging you down harshly against his cock in time with his own desperate thrusts.

“So good, so fucking good — gonna explode, gonna fucking blow—” the man’s voice was harsh and ragged against your lips, his words somewhat hard to understand due to his reluctance to disengage his lips from the dance they were performing with yours, but they went straight to your core anyway, flushing your entire body with excitement and eagerness.

“Cum, cum, I want you to cum.” You moaned into his mouth, tongue licking into the crevice, and the man reciprocated your eagerness by removing his hands from your hips and instead wrapping them around your shoulders for a better grip — before you could fully prepare yourself, the man was bucking his hips with abandon, the friction against your clit fast and unrelenting, and you threw your head back with a moan. The swordsman took advantage of the access to your throat, and he began licking and biting the tender flesh, the ministrations adding more fuel to the fire within your belly.

There was a foreign tightening within your gut, something akin to a coil being wound, and it was something you’d never felt before — it was frightening but exhilarating, and though unfamiliar, you just knew that the snapping would lead to something amazing. So you allowed your body to relax and fall limp in the man’s hold, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself fall into the sensations abusing your body.

“Fuck, so good, you feel so fucking good — so warm and soft, fuck—” with every hot word panted into the flesh of your neck that coil wound tighter, and with a few more harsh thrusts your vision exploded with white stars as your entire body clenched up, your clit bursting with pleasure and throbbing as an orgasm — your first ever — was pulled from your body. The swordsman was quick to follow, a liquid that was even hotter than his cock coating the front of trousers and seeping through to melt into your skin, and the groan he released into your jugular was so filthy that it was nearly enough to rip another orgasm from you.

Your legs were a trembling cage around his thigh, and as you sit recovering from what was probably the most amazingly intense experience of your life, you debated going against your long standing moral code and keeping the man in your lair forever.

#opla #opla zoro x reader #zoro x reader #opla zoro #one piece

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Can we have a deeper analysis in Sabo's shape language study please? It's amazing how you make him give different vibes with just his hair and I like to understand how does that work.

Oh. I'm SO glad you asked.

(The Post In Question)

Okay so this isnt the first post ive made about shape language,

Here are the others:

ASL Shapes Strawhats Shapes

i'm just gonna copy and paste the definition i have for shape language from those posts here so i dont have to write it all again.

Shape language is defined as “a concept used in art and animation to communicate meaning based on shapes we are familiar with” (source). This concept uses circles, triangles, and squares to convey an idea of the “personality” of the design without using any words.

In designs, using circles and rounded edges in your silhouette and detailing gives the design a soft and squishy look. They tend to be harmless, approachable, or changeable.

Designs using squares gives the design a solid, sturdy, and strong look. They are supportive, reliable, and inflexible

Lastly, triangle designs are sharp and directional. They are dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable.

That's base level but here's more in depth description of each design for ya:

this one is up first!

You may notice how in this design, his hair isnt in large clumps like the others are. His hair falls delicately and waves gently with little to no hard angles.

In this design, i was trying to convey the idea of "he wasnt born to fight, but he's molded himself into someone who will." I tried to depict that by making his hair all light and feathery, his facial features soft and rounded, but also showing how he's modified his body in a pointy and aggressive way.

I didn't want to only go hard edges with the piercings though because much like he's strayed from his mold of being delicate, he's also strayed from his mold of being a cruel noble. so some of his piercings are rings, AKA: Circles.

You may also notice the different in how I've drawn the collars of these guys. the collar of this Babo's black coat falls softly, and its' arc is rounded. The shoulders don't have any padding and it rounds at the corner.

This Man Is Round.

Next up is this Freak

This is supposed to be Triangle Him.

His hair is in larger, hard angled clumps. Indicating that he probably cut his hair himself. He did... greattt. I already headcannon him as someone who cuts his own hair, but i dont think this one ever gets any better at it.

The hard angles on his teeth, his scar, his jaw, his collar, that line i forgot to erase on the left, and his coat all give indication that this guy is Dangerous and you probably shouldnt mess with him.

I didn't have any real deeper meaning to this version, I just wanted to make him look as opposing as I could. this guy is "what you see is pretty much what you get."

Even though he doesn't have a lot of deeper meaning, I think this one is my favorite of the designs. I really love these colors on him and his hair was really fun to draw. I think I wanna draw him again at some point. I think this version of him would be very funny paired with Koala. I'm chuckling thinking about it:

Koala and her Armed and On Fire kindergartener

And lastly this guy

Sabo's base design is very rectangle coded. From his Hat, to his face shape, to his coat. So this version was very easy to make as I didn't actually need to change that much!

I think maybe I could've made his design a little more complex? But also I think there is a beauty in simplicity for this one. He looks straightforward, reliable, and kind. He seems like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty, not because he likes doing it, but because he does what he must for the greater good.

I really love his hazel eyes, too. I think it brings a nice warmth to his design that is really nice.

Additional comments:

I love talking about this stuff. I love designing. I love art. I love drawing so much it's so fun

Everytime I get to sit down and make some funky doodles my brain feels like 🧠🤸🧘🧜🧚🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🧚💃💃💃💃💃💃

If you got this far thanks for reading :)

I usually have a description for my designs and my choices and stuff and I forgot to do one for this post, it makes me happy to see that it was missed :)

#ask reply #@naniguini #shape language

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

In the spirit of Valentines Day, I come bearing headcanons. Specifically, the mercs favorite flowers, plus how they'd react to getting said flower as a gift! Also, bonus Miss Pauling because I like her too.

————————————————————

Demo- Buttercups

I'd like to think that when Demo was younger, he lived in a house near a field that had wildflowers. Like he could look out his window and just see flowers, and out of all of them, he found himself being drawn to buttercups. I think yellow is his favorite color, so he was naturally drawn to them based off color but something else draws him to them that he can't describe.

He will cry if he gets a bunch of these. He knows that buttercups aren't a traditional flower to get in a bouquet which means, the person giving him them had to, not only remember whatever one off drunken comment Demo made about his favorite flower, but also had to go out and spend time picking flowers for him.

————————————————————

Engie- Hyacinths

I think he’d be a big fan of hyacinths because they were his mom’s favorite flower and now, seeing them reminds him of her. He may have not had a great home life growing up, but something about seeing small things to remind him of his old home does make him very happy. He likes blue hyacinth more than any other, which do represent loyalty and patience, so that’s fun!

If he receives flowers he’s immediately a little pink, the whole, “Aw, you shouldn’t have.” schtick, he is very happy to have received any gift at all. Not happy about how out of the way this must have been, but knows better than to argue when presented with a gift. He likes how they, at least a little bit, brighten up his work space. 

————————————————————

Heavy- Marigolds

I genuinely think he just really likes how they look. No deeper meaning. He just thinks that they are one of the prettiest flowers he’s ever seen, and he adores them. I think he really just likes flowers in general, and it’s hard for him to pick a favorite. This man just appreciates the beauty of the world! I think he is a little drawn to the color and shape, he thinks it's such an interesting flower. Something about it is unique in a mundane way. I also just think he’s read a lot of books on flowers and plants and has always been drawn to them.

If he got flowers as a gift he would be very appreciative. I think at first he wouldn’t really realize someone put the effort into buying him his favorite flowers. I like to think that his sisters would pick wildflowers for him when he was younger and he would always be appreciative of the “Thank you for thinking of me, this is the eight time this week you brought these, where are you finding these.” type of way, so he’s conditioned to feel that way at the sight of flowers as a gift, but is genuinely very happy when he realizes that someone remembered his favorite flower and bought them for him, small things mean a lot to him.

————————————————————

Medic- Chrysanthemums

Similar to Heavy, he is also a big fan of plants and flowers! I think he definitely minored in botany at one point after developing an interest. I think he actually grew to love chrysanthemums specifically because when he was going to college, he found that there was a small patch outside his dorm window, and he would occasionally watch the flowers moving, the life around them just living. He used watching the flowers as a break, a distraction, so his mind just associated them with good times.

He is posed with a… situation. He appreciates the gesture immensely! But… he does have birds, and as smart as the birds may be, they are still a little stupid, and he would prefer his plants NOT to be eaten. Also, he can’t risk coating his gift in blood, despite how much he loves the stuff, he knows that a blood bath probably isn’t the best for flowers. Fret not, however! He most likely keeps them in his room, or in a common area. He is very meticulous in caring for them, if he puts them out, the gift giver may see him watering and caring for the flower as often as he can between his other work. Maybe a bit more stress than originally worth it, but he definitely appreciates the effort!

————————————————————

Scout- Roses

Scout is a fan of roses, like his mother actually. He isn't aware of the symbolism of the color of roses though, he just always knew orange was his favorite color for roses, for some reason. It's just interesting that orange roses can represent energy and pride.

If he finds himself on the reviving end of these roses, he will get very defensive. He totally doesn't like them, why would you get him these, he doesn't want them, no, no no wait don't take them back- He keeps those flowers around until they rot, and even then he doesn't want to give them up, he loves the gesture.

————————————————————

Sniper- Tiger Lilies

Sniper likes flowers well enough. He’s more of an animal fan than anything, but he can appreciate the beauty of nature in all forms. I wouldn’t say tiger lilies are 100% without a doubt his favorite, I think he just likes seeing them a bit more than others. They represent prosperity and positivity, and he’s fine with having a little bit more of that in his life at any given time. Might give a half smile at the sight of one,

Hey, no, no no no, HE is the gift giver! Very uncomfortable receiving gifts. He’s appreciative, yes, but it;s just very hard for him to express that! People remembering things about him is very…new. He’s already very quiet and reserved, so the fact that someone managed to remember something so insignificant (in his mind) is confusing, but not entirely unwelcomed. He’s not very good with plants, so hopefully the gift giver won’t take offense to the fact that they might already be wilting by the next day.

————————————————————

Spy- Lily of the valley

A mix of a few things makes this Spy's favorite flower. I think Spy became attached to them after receiving them a couple of times. He attaches to them because any time he's given a gift, it changes a little part of his brain. Also!! Lily of the vally are symbolic of rebirth, and maybe Spy has always been ready for change.

If you managed to find out his favorite flower, you are instantly a threat (/hj) Spy does NOT like people knowing about things he likes, nor does he like them being “used against him” (<- having to feel an emotion one time), He’ll take them with the promise of not keeping them, so your money was a waste and you’re stupid for even doing this- he keeps them in his room along with the other plants he keeps. He loves the gift, like Scout, would rather die than admit that.

————————————————————

Soldier- Forget Me Nots

Calling these his favorite flower is almost a stretch, I don't think he particularly cares for flowers. I just don't think he really pays attention. But if he finds himself sitting on the ground, most likely with Demo, his eyes will be more focused on these than anything else.

If given as a gift, he doesn't really understand what the sentimental value is supposed to be, but he is grateful for the present. He most likely keeps them on his nightstand or somewhere where he can see them regularly. He enjoys looking at them and reminds him he's being thought of.

————————————————————

Pyro- Daisy

If given as a gift, immediately joy! They will definitely reciprocate with flower crowns made from the daisies. Just enough for it and the gift giver to have matching ones. They definitely like being given flowers to make crowns with, but much like Soldier, probably doesn't exactly understand the sentimental value of someone remembering/gifting it's favorite flower

It adores daisies! Something so simple but so beautiful makes them really happy. It really enjoys them and definitely always has some laying around either in a vace or just lying around. Gives them in all forms as gifts regularly, either by leaving them in the places each other merc is at the most, or by giving them it directly.

————————————————————

Miss Pauling- Lilac

Probably not the most original, but whatever! I think her favorite time of the year is a mix between spring and summer already, and when it's just getting hot enough to have warm, breezes and flowers blooming, she KNOWS lilacs are going to come out and she is so excited!! She loves the smell more than anything, the sights are also beautiful and make her very happy.

She never really gets flowers as a gift, who would have guessed, but she is overjoyed if someone gets her a bouquet of lilacs. Something about people remembering her favorite flower makes her feel... cared for and just a little less stressed out. She will smile at those flowers each time she sees them.

————————————————————

Went heavily on the symbolism, hm?Anyways, I am SO glad I finally wrote something and that I feel motivated again. Hope you guys liked them! Now, I'm going to bed.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 headcanons #tf2 hc

[bambi-kinos]

I just came across your analysis of However Absurd and thought it was lovely. I'm curious, as someone who thinks John and Paul had some kind of romantic or sexual relationship, what is your take on The Lovers That Never Were? Is he using the word "lovers" to mean "partners"? I have always interpreted it to mean that Paul knows there was something there but it never happened. Every time I start to be convinced that they were together in some way I think of this song and the devastating way Paul sings it in the demo and the heartbreaking fact that he still felt it that intensely 13 years after John's death.

Oh wow thank you! The server had a lot of fun discussing that, if it's good it's because I had a little help from my friends heheh (─‿‿─) ♡

I ended up writing a massive novel in response to all this so I hope you enjoy reading it heheh. For server members, I've pulled some quotes from my previous Discord essays on this topic so you'll see some stuff that you've read.

tl;dr - I don't think "The Lovers That Never Were" contradicts the secret relationship theory at all! I think it compliments it very well actually.

In order to get into All That, I will outline how I perceive what their relationship was built on and how they reacted to it. I should note that I don't consider this definitive. It's important to remember that we all have unique interpretations of John and Paul because of our experiences and our personal POVs. There is no single answer until Paul decides to tell us what happened and/or Sean publishes John's diaries (written and audio). Until that happens, we are all forced to look at the same material and draw our own conclusions which will naturally be shaped through our personal perceptions. Some of us are older and are much closer to the original culture that John and Paul were raised in; some of us are younger and grew up in a much more LGBT+ positive environment. This naturally has an impact on how we interpret John and Paul's relationship.

I say this because I know my POV on John and Paul is a bit different from everyone else's. I'm a historian by training but part of being a historian is the understanding that you will never fully understand the events as they happened because your personal viewpoint and inherent bias is simply too strong. But that's okay because this is a part of humanity that we all share, yeah? With that understanding LET'S GO!

Paul My view on Paul is that he's always understood that he's different from other men. I doubt he could put a name to it until very recently. Paul has synesthesia, he's bisexual, he connects to music in a savant-like way, he's neurodivergent which is why he takes criticism so hard, and all of that would still be true even if he didn't have left over emotional issues from his mother dying the way she did + his fraught relationship with his father.

Keep in mind that circumstantial evidence points to the idea that Paul orchestrated the meeting at the fête! He realized he had a mutual friend with John in Ivan (who is to say that he did not meet Ivan at a QM performance and had that mental realization there?) He went through Hot Girl Summer before and after the fête, wanting to be fucking fit so that he wasn't embarrassed to meet John! I did the same thing when I had a crush as a teenager!

So with all that in mind, imagine this: you're Paul McCartney. You met John Lennon barely a year after Mary died. You turned 15 on June 18th, 1957 and met John at the fête on July 6, 1957. At some undetermined point before this garden party you saw a beautiful boy on the bus and began riding it obsessively hoping the Teddie boy would get on it. You followed him to the chippie and stood in line behind him…allegedly because you thought "oh wow he looks so cool." Marky Mark thinks (and I agree) that you may have even followed John to at least one Quarry Man show before the fête. Is this 'normal' behavior? Or is this the unhinged behavior of a teenager with a massive crush? The kind that comes about when you see a cute boy with red hair, and red is the color you associate with happiness, and then you find out that he plays guitar just like you and you follow him around until you see one of his performances and he's so good he knocks you back and then someone says "hi Paul, I didn't know you liked music!" behind you. And you realize that it's your friend and that you can meet the boy you have a crush on through this friend. You just need to lose weight and grow your hair out first.

When did Paul first see John, anyway? Before he turned 15 I'd wager.

I submit the idea that Paul has been in love John Lennon for his entire life. It will be 67 years of love when this July 6th rolls around. John was making a name for himself, he was known around town as "that Lennon." A minor celebrity like we’ve all had in our hometowns. Paul loved music. Before the internet you would go to the town square to hear a band.

Paul did that. Saw John. Pursued him with intent. When John went to Gambier Terrace to be with Stuart, Paul made a nuisance of himself showing up at their parties and playing the proto-version of "Michelle" in front of the girls…and John.

I love you, I love you, I love you That's all I want to say Until I find a way I will say the only words I know that You'll understand

I don't think that a 15 year old Paul McCartney would explicitly label his feelings for John as 'love' or a 'crush' but I do think that's what happened. When you're a teenager, a crush can express itself in many different ways. I used to have a big crush on a girl who was a volleyball player at my junior high school…that expressed itself as intense admiration. I even told one of my friends that I thought she was 'really cool.' It wasn't until later that I realized that I had a crush on her.

But I think that Paul has always known that he's 'different' and that he wasn't like other boys while growing up. Part of his touchiness about his looks comes from being bullied but I also think that he's a lot more self aware than he pretends to be. I think he realized relatively fast how he felt about John (maybe once John picked up with Stuart and Cynthia at art college.) I think he carried that with him for years hence his anguished response to being jilted in Hamburg and how furious he was at John for running off to Spain with Brian. He didn't realize it immediately but once it sticks to you then it fucking sticks. I think that Paul has done a lot internal wrestling with being a bisexual man and what that means for him and that he has been wrestling with it for decades. I think he was fully in the grip of that wrestling as he and John's friendship began growing and Paul realized what was happening to him. He does enjoy women but I also think that he felt it was necessary to pursue them heavily as a young man to camouflage himself.

I don't think a day has gone by since 1957 where Paul has not known what he was. What exactly that means for him…is up for interpretation. That's where the gray area is. But IMO Paul has almost always known that he's sexually attracted to other men and that John woke this in him. The big question for Paul is what he should do about it.

John There's been a lot written about John and his sexuality that I won't rehash here but truthfully I think John was in a similar place to Paul in knowing that he's always had a sexual preference for other men. John was a lot less comfortable about it though. Having unprotected sex with his girlfriends was, IMO, John trying to subconsciously engineer a situation that would "fix" him via an accidental pregnancy necessitating a marriage.

Of course that didn't do anything because it never does. John still felt chemistry with Paul when they met at the fête, with that quote about them "circling each other like cats." IMO John felt something immediately -- it's not entirely clear what -- though I don't think it "love at first sight" like with Paul. IMO their friendship, while still rooted in that chemistry, developed very naturally for John and he got to enjoy a platonic relationship with Paul before he put it all together. I say this because John saw Paul as a kid, not a peer, and that this endured for their lives in Liverpool pre-Hamburg. I struggle to imagine John or Paul deliberately inciting sexual or romantic contact during that time period aside from the group wank sessions (which were really trolling sessions from John.) Like, when Julia died, John went out and sought peers at art college like Cynthia and Stuart, other students his age. John and Paul bonded over losing their mothers and Paul has that quote about pranking people with the "oh yeah…my mum's dead thanks <3" bit but it also seems like John didn't want to be around that all the time. He lost his Uncle George and then his mother, he was starting to think that he was a death-curse on men in his family and that he brought suffering with him. He wanted to be away from that so he took a vacation from music to get a chance of scenery. Which meant putting Paul in a place of competition with Stuart and Cyn but I don't think John was thinking of that initially (though he exploited the situation later.)

Then Hamburg happens and they run wild. I have an entire meta about this that you can read here but I genuinely think John did not see Paul as a full fledged adult and potential sexual partner until they were in Hamburg in the red light district. I think that something happened there that we don't know about, that it's tied up in Stuart deciding to be with Astrid, John jilting Paul, Paul saying "fuck you I'm done" and getting a job at the coil winding factory in Liverpool after being deported, John tracking Paul down and spending weeks (probably) groveling and then giving Paul an ultimatum to come back to the Beatles. All of that screams 'I just realized I'm in love with my best friend and I'm freaking the fuck out' to me lmao.

John and Paul Of course something else changed after that too and John and Paul ended up becoming so close that even the Liverpool squares around them noticed. I think that whatever was going in their relationship, it started here. In the place where John and Paul were equally distraught with each other, the future of the band was uncertain, and Paul wanted a sign of commitment from John so that he didn't feel like he wasted years of his life. And of course John always felt compelled to be the man Paul wanted him to be so he treated Paul to a vacation in Paris which was so life affirming for them that it stayed with them for the rest of their lives. IMO the Paris vacation was explicitly romantic for them.

I think a switch flipped in 1961 and they went from "messing around" to "there's something there." It erupted in Paris and they showed each other more understanding and care then they expected from each other. John did sexy pin up poses for Paul in a bed that they shared; John remembers how the French held each other in their arms and just kissed each other, lovingly; Paul felt that he discovered the answer and that all those big name philosophers had nothing on the self realization he came to inside himself. Paul even took a photo of John that high lighted his package! Thanks to @louiselux for pointing this one out:

The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing. — John Lennon, Playboy interview 1980

“We were like Paris existentialists. Jean-Paul Sartre had nothing on us. Sod ‘em all - I could write a novel… It was all inside me. I could do anything now.”

Paul McCartney, Anthology

Something happened in Paris and it wasn't just them getting haircuts and John buying Paul milkshakes. There was commitment there. And then the spell comes over them again when they return in January 1964:

The first night, John and Paul stayed in their suite, listening to records and reading fan mail. George, who had been signed for 100 pounds a day by the Daily Express to write of his experiences in Paris, went to a nightclub in the Place Pigalle.

Back in the City of Light, John and Paul slept till three o'clock in the afternoon. That much everybody agreed on.

Quote by Vincent Mulchrone from Daily Mail: George Harrison was astir early, but John Lennon and Paul McCartney slumbered on until frantic photographers forced them at lens point into the Champs-Élysées.

Derek Taylor (a British journalist) wanted to know why the Beatles slept so much. "My office wants to know what they're doing in Paris, so they'd better be doing something."

Love Me Do by Michael Braun

But I know what you're thinking. "What the hell does this all have to do with these two songs?"

And my reply is to keep a few things in mind:

Paul takes criticism and slights incredibly hard, possibly overreacting in some places and letting them overwhelm him mentally.

He never got over Barcelona, he never stopped resenting Stuart and Brian, he never got over John pulling the rug out from under him regarding the order of their names in the song credits. He contemplated committing suicide by smothering himself while he was in Scotland recovering from John leaving him.

John Lennon had a baby with a woman in the middle of all this. Julian Lennon was born April 8, 1963, conceived in July 1962, less than a year after Paris.

However Absurd & The Lovers That Never Were I listened to "However Absurd" and "The Lovers That Never Were" in that order. My immediate reaction is that these are both the same kind of song: they are both expressing sadness and frustration with John. This is a common theme with Paul's post-1980 John songs. What I find interesting is that they depict different though related gripes regarding John. In "However Absurd" Paul is expressing his longing for a cottagecore fantasy romance with John and then expressing frustration at John mocking him for it:

Ears twitch, like a dog Breaking eggs in a dish Do not mock me when I say This is not a lie

But in "The Lovers That Never Were" Paul expresses a different gripe: frustration that John won't commit to him and "anticipating" the break up that he secretly knew was coming ever since 1963 when John abandoned him and his own son to play patty-cake with Brian in Spain:

I hang patiently on every word you send Will we ever be much more than just friends? As for you, you sit there playing this game You keep me waiting

When all of the clocks have run down All over the world We'll be the lovers that never were

For as long as the sun shines in somebody's eyes I believe in you baby, so don't tell me lies For as long as the trees throw down blossoms and leaves I know there will be a parade of unpainted dreams

And I know dear, how much it's going to hurt If you still refuse to get your hands dirty So you, you must tell me something… I love you Say goodbye or anything

All of the clocks have run down Time's at an end If we can't be lovers we'll never be friends

John's penchant for disregarding Paul's feelings and even weaponizing them against Paul; the dashing of Paul's cottagecore dreams that were made and solidified in Paris; the fact that John, no matter what his intentions, could not get his shit together and commit to Paul no matter what he may have felt. These two songs are not contradictory to one another. Paul's idea of "commitment" looks very much like what he had with Linda and John in 1967: sharing a home, sharing a bed, being together every day, preferably somewhere green and remote. Exclusivity. Remember that Paul deliberately sabotaged his relationship with Jane Asher by nailing a woman in their bed when Jane came home, knowing perfectly well that he was breaking their exclusivity agreement.

That IMO, is what makes someone a lover and not just a friend you have sex with and secretly pine for. No cheating, or at least your agreed version of it. No disrespecting the relationship. Continuously being together. What did John do instead of this?

I think that Paul started out his "relationship" with John carrying high hopes and then watched them crumble to dust, over and over, because John simply did not take him seriously. He got Cynthia pregnant, he ran around on Paul with Brian, he had the nerve to flip out on Jane Asher when Paul brought her around when he was the one who couldn't stay faithful to Cynthia.

My hot take is that these songs demonstrate that Paul simply could not imagine John ever truly committing to him and treating him as a true partner. The homophobia and yes ~society~ is in there too but Paul was happy to flout this when it came to just about anyone else, traipsing all over France with Fraser and Mal. The difference is that he flat out didn't trust John. Being jilted for Stuart in Hamburg loomed too big in his head. Cynthia and Julian loomed too big in his head. Brian and Barcelona, realizing that John would happily betray whatever agreements or understandings he had with Paul simply to screw Paul out of a deal, loomed too big in his head. I think in particular its Barcelona that made Paul think John didn't value any of their professed ideals. John broke Paul's heart years before Yoko came along.

He didn't trust John. Fatalism is easier than taking control of your own life sometimes, and in Paul's mind there was no reason to believe John was genuine. Like, Paul knew John very well! He had very good reason to think that John was simply not serious about him. And John, no matter what his intentions were, proved that correct over and over and over and over.

So ultimately, I think that's what these songs are about. The melodies don't necessarily reflect this when I listened to them but I think that "The Lovers That Never Were" in particular is juxtaposing bitter wink-and-nod lyrics with an oddly perky tune. It's Paul laughing at himself for ever thinking John was willing to commit. He's mocking himself because while he allowed himself to get swept up in the dream of a possible genuine relationship with John, he knew deep down that it would go the way it did. That John would find a reason to get tired of him and abandon him. And then when Yoko came along, that's exactly what John did. Paul fatalistically accepted that the time had come and John met Paul's low expectations of him.

The Weight I don't think John and Paul necessarily planned to have a secret relationship. It seems more like they bundled the sexual/romantic stuff into their "thing" where it was just part and parcel of who they were and what they did. "It's only gay if the balls touch" etc. At some point that changed but Paul became convinced early on that it wouldn't work out so he didn't acknowledge his own secret desires and dreams. There was no roadmap between him and John about where they were taking this exactly and how they were going to make it work. He had sex with John and even engaged with romantic actions with John, hoping against hope that something would change and he would be proven wrong, but then John would be careless and Paul would collapse into hurt.

And oh yeah: Paul never, ever discussed any of this with John Lennon. He never told John how hurt he was because he didn't want to put up with John's derision. He felt devalued and lost and in typical Paul fashion he chose to ignore this for years and never bring it up, forcing it to come out in bizarre nonsensical actions when he inevitably boiled over. Why would he choose to confront it? He made sure to set up several safety nets to catch him! Jane and the Ashers, striking out on his own with "The Family Way" score, rubbing John's face in his escapades with other males as a way to go 'see, I don't need you just like you don't need me. How about THAT?'

I don't think John ever intended to hurt Paul as badly as he did. He thought that if Paul was upset about something then he would know via their ~telepathic connection.~ I think that he deliberately overlooked warning signs because he felt intensely guilty about certain actions he took (God only knows which ones) and that he helped himself not see Paul's hurt. I do think if he had the slightest idea of what was going on in Paul's head then he would have changed tactics immediately out of fear of losing Paul forever. But at heart John was a coward and if he didn't want to see something was wrong then he wouldn't see it unless something forced his hand. Like say, having his former best friend/ex-lover look him in the eye and go "I can write new songs" and kill The Beatles in a court of law. (And of course once he realized what he had done, years after the fact, it was too little too late. He couldn't take it back. How do you make up for inflicting that much hurt on someone that you supposedly care for? This paralyzed John for years.)

This was obviously a huge mistake and I think it was one of the landmines that blew their relationship up. Paul allowed his distrust and bitterness to overwhelm him. He should have been honest with John about his feelings; maybe not immediately but when they were able to look back with some perspective. Paul should have realized that their relationship could take heat. He should have trusted John more and if he had then John could have risen to the occasion. Everything could have been different. No more "I believe in you baby, so don't tell me lies." No more "Do not mock me when I say/This is not a lie."

He even expresses this in a third song, one that IMO puts this entire thing into perspective and ties these three songs together with a neat bow. "This One":

Did I ever take you in my arms, look you in the eye Tell you that 'I do?' Did I ever open up my heart And let you look inside?…

Did I ever touch you on the cheek Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile? Did I ever knock upon your door Try to get inside?…

Please take note of the bolded "Tell you that 'I do'!" Paul's deepest regret with regards to John is not trusting him more. He wishes that he had opened up to John about his hurt and how he angry he was that John was devaluing their relationship. That he wanted to commit to John but that he was scared John wouldn't say 'I do' back.

From John's POV he's just being John; he's looking out for the band. God knows he tried to be what Paul needed him to be but he got mixed signals and inconsistent behavior and Paul's ice queen behavior frustrated him to no end. This resulted in an endless circle of "fuck you/no no no, fuck YOU/well fuck you then!/fuck you" that ended up killing what they had.

But John is guilty in this too. He never made himself accountable to Paul. He didn't explain his actions. He acted rashly and selfishly and then was shocked when it blew up in his face. He didn't consistently act like he loved Paul. He took Paul for granted and told himself that he was doing the right thing, because changing your behavior is very very hard. He didn't let Paul in when it mattered.

Did you ever take me in your arms Look me in the eye, tell me that 'you do?'

As Paul grew up and he started to come to grips with the "What happened" of it all, maybe he realized that he had procrastinated. That he put off what mattered most because he couldn't bear to make himself vulnerable as a young man. Maybe he was waiting for a perfect moment to open himself up to John knowing perfectly well it would never arrive, a common delaying tactic for insecure and avoidant people. Not admitting that the perfect moment would never come and that he had to extend trust to receive it in return.

If I never did it, I was only waiting For a better moment that didn't come There never could be a better moment Than this one, this one

I think he's still angry at John for multiple betrayals, slaps to the face, and devaluing the specialness of their relationship and their affection for each other. But I also think that Paul is angry at himself for not trusting John, for not working harder at their relationship. He also delivered multiple betrayals and slaps to the face to John, feeding John's insecurity and fears of abandonment. Making a mockery of their relationship and how special it was. Paul has been doing public penance for this ever since John died, which snapped everything into perspective and he finally realized the full scope of his own screw ups.

Because it took two to destroy a relationship this intense and this special. If Paul did not know that before...

Well. He does now.

#the beatles #mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #mclennon meta #my meta #mclennon server #this was a really fun ask anon thank you!

[youn9racha]

Morning After

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: you and your boyfriend, chan, are often the type to have rough and kinky sex for good fun, and you two have no issue with it. however, you two also enjoy the casual lovemaking that binds both of your love with each other.

warning: piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), love making porn, references of d/s, switch!chan, switch!reader, pet names (baby), another rushed ending

words: 1.3k

a/n: yikes so this is KINDA self insert 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ which is why its kinda bad but its whatever, i love chan hehe. i only said kinda because i made it second pov because im not selfish 👹 humble queen 💆‍♀️anyways, sorry for this rushed work, and no i will not proof read it so suck on that !1!!!!1!!! also listening to lovers rock by tv lovers while working on this piece lowkey hit different.

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

The sun bloomed between the curtains but didn’t budge the couple that was presumably slumbering underneath the blankets. It wasn’t the case necessarily; you and Chan were facing each other as you fluttered your eyes open, rejoicing at the sight of you two laying side by side. He pulls you in closer, trying to intake the warmth of your naked skin against his, along your morning plump lips against his. They were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care as you had him in your arms.  

“Good morning,” Chan muttered against your lips when pulling away, his morning raspy voice escaping his loving lips that perked up in a smile. You smiled back at him as you held his neck, eyes filled with adoration, “good morning, my love.”

You pulled him in after that whisper and continued to have his lips on yours, but this time it was much more passionate and less chaste than the last one. He grabs your hips closer to him, placing you on top of him, chest to chest as you held his shoulders and began to kiss down his jaw and neck. His fair neck and collarbones were already painted with a few red hickeys, and that inspired you to draw more on him as you grazed the untouched skin. He sighs in contentment as he lifts his head slightly to create more space.

“I miss this so much,” he spoke to mask any upcoming groan from the soft spot you’ve hit, “I miss you…” he breathed audibly as he held the back of your head. You pulled yourself away from his neck and looked back at his puppy, honey brown eyes, showing you his sparkly pleading look, “please… wanna be inside you…” his voice was gentle and hushed as he looked at you most earnestly.

It’s not so often Chan shows this side of him, he always comes off as more dominant in the relationship, which you didn’t mind, and it shows in the bedroom very clearly. But the more he showcases his submissive side, the more you cherish it, especially when it’s sudden like right now. The other day, he was the opposite; he was dominant, demanding, and assertive yet affectionate, a whole different look to the puppy-eyed man who wants to be cared for who is lying underneath you—a pleasant duality you would say.

 You smiled down at him and without audibly responding, you grabbed his semi-hard cock and lightly grind on it, which caused him to shudder and let out a close mouth whine at the feeling of your wet slit contacting his shaft.

You ground a bit more before his cock started to erect fully, and there you slid yourself in, making you gasp at the feeling of being full by Chan’s girth and length. While adjusting, you looked down at Chan’s flushed face and held his face to make him look back at you, “you like that, baby?”

He nodded with a smile as his fingers ran through your thighs, “yes… you can move when you want to.”

You giggled slightly at his consent, grabbing both of his hands and placing them on your hips, silently telling him that he can control the pace if he wants to and to show you how good he feels. There, you began moving your hips at a slow pace, making you two gasp at the pleasant feeling as well as Chan lightly squeeze your hips. You held his shoulders as you lifted your hips up and down as you moan at how good you felt around him, stretching you out so good and praising him for being the way he is.

“You’re so good to me, Channie,” you paused to whine and roll your head as the sensation between your hips was too pleasant to speak, “God, I love you so much, Channie…”

“You’re all I have, baby—fuck, I love you more than you can imagine,” Chan rasped out before being interrupted by a whine from him.

At that point, you two weren’t having sex, this exceeds it on another level. Claiming each other’s affections while praising and complimenting each other’s beauty and existence, all the while you were pleasuring each other at a steady gentle pace.

On any other day, this pace would not occur, especially since you two were very active and could get animalistic when needed to. But at this rare time, you two just wanted a slow and romantic time together, without any degradation, name-calling, rough play, role play, and vice versa. Either way, you both could agree that any activity together you two had, whatever that is, is fun.

It was evident how well you two felt just evident with how Chan’s grip on your hips was getting harder enough to bruise and you just moaned out his name repeatedly.

From Chan’s point of view, the way the sunlight hit your face and body made you look like a goddess in front of him, he looked at you with awe. To yourself, you probably thought that you looked unkempt and gross, in contrast to the handsome, straight out of an aesthetic museum of a boyfriend, who is whining at the way you move on top of him. However, Chan didn’t—never saw you in that way, his admiration just increased by a heartbeat.

“Channie, are you close?” You gently asked through your moans as you sensed he was getting close to orgasm based on the way he held your hips and began lifting you up and down at a quicker pace than usual.

He only groaned and nodded in response, his face twisting as his stomach clenched at the sensation of his nether region began heating up. He began thrusting his hips upwards, making you yelp at the sudden action. His dominant hand let go of your hip as he began rubbing your clit, you squealed slightly, surprising you in every way as usual.

“Come with me… I want you to come with me,” He muttered, hoping it would be comprehensible to you, which thankfully it did as you pulled his hand back to your hips and rubbed yourself instead. Chan cursed and whined at the angelic sight in front of him, “Can I come inside you? Please, please, I want my cum all in you, baby,” his words were broken through his mewls and while you couldn’t respond back in clear words either, you managed to say something in response.

“Come in me,”

And there, he yelped as he spilled himself in sloppy upwards thrust inside your warm now cum-covered walls, that is now slightly dripping out of you the more he thrusts himself to the point of overstimulation, only so you could come with him as well. He whimpers as the feeling was getting overwhelming but thankfully, you followed through with the orgasm as shown by the way you threw your head back and yelped out how good you felt. After coming down, you two panted, you dropped into his chest, him still inside you. He wrapped his arms around your naked figure, looking down at you breathlessly with a smile.

“God, you were so fucking incredible, you know that?”

You only laughed at his comment as you held him even closer, ignoring the warm sensation dripping down your thighs, and closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat. You felt his fingers run across your back, making you catch goosebumps and him giggle quietly in response.

“You know, I meant what I said earlier,” You said, eyes still closed and concentrating on his heartbeat.

“I know… and I meant everything I said as well.”

You got up and looked back at Chan, now you two are eye to eye, “I love you so fucking much, Bang Christopher Chan,”

He chuckled as he looked at you endearingly before kissing you on the nose, “and I love you more, (y/f/n).”

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