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neet-elite · 6 months

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Party For Two — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian/ Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 6,077 Warnings: Love confession, mutual masturbation, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering Synopsis: Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most "recent" that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

It’s the usual hang out night, held at your farmhouse this time round because you insisted on doing your fair share of hosting, only, Sebastian can’t help but feel that it’s anything but usual. What was meant to be a four person TV series watch has now turned into a party for two. Sam, currently sick with allergies and Abigail, busy trying (and most likely failing) to beat ‘Journey Of The Prairie King’— something that Sebastian is sure will take more than one night of attempts, she’s already been stuck on it for a week... And well, he can’t really fault Sam for not wanting to make anyone else sick. If anything, he’s thankful to be the only one to show up besides you. It’s not really that bad of a turn out, not when he’s been secretly wanting to spend more alone time with just you and him anyway. Because see, he’s always been interested in you ever since you first came to the valley, and it’s as time’s went on and you slowly assimilated into his little trio friend group that he found himself thinking: yeah, four is a better number anyway. A small crush, he tells himself. Nothing serious, he jokes with Sam. No I wasn’t staring, he whispers to Abi. But deep down, he knows exactly what he feels, and as you finally come back into your living room with excitement in your eyes he knows it to be true— he wants to see that face every day going forward.

“Sorry for the wait!” You smile, his eyes drawn to your blushed cheeks when your attention is immediately focused on the TV in front of you. Tonight seems like a good time to confess, because while he certainly wants to do other things with you, it’d be rude not to make his intentions clear in the first place. To be a gentleman, and at the very least provide courtesy before anything else, smiling warmly back at you while you busy yourself with getting comfortable next to him. He likes you, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity right in front of him. Alone, with you. There really isn’t a better scenario to confess in, is there?

“S’all right,” He half-grunts as he repositions himself to be more facing sideways so that he can keep looking at your pretty face, as he always does. “You ready for the next episode?”

“Yes!” You beam back at him, remote control in your hand as you glance at him for what he thinks is a final time tonight before starting the weekly show, so he does his best to respond in kind. It’s one that the group had decided to watch together, and though Sebastian wasn’t that interested in the premise, he did enjoy the thought of spending more time with you, which is why he mostly agreed to join in the first place. He’s grown to like the show more anyway, though he’s unsure if that’s down to the (honestly, pretty mediocre) cinematography or because he gets to stare at you for an extended period of time each week. Lovingly, of course, he’d hate to come off as a creep. Always cautious about his looking, but feeling unable to control his desires for too long before he’s eyeing you up and down again. He always waits to dive deeper into his thoughts of you until he’s home at least, mostly because he can’t stand the thought of popping a boner in front of so many people and to be left unable to live it down for the rest of his life, but also because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Would rather the boner scenario to making you feel any negativity in any capacity. “I’m so glad Sam and Abi said it was cool to continue, I’ve been waiting all week to see what happens next!”

Ah, yeah, the romantic plot line or… Something. It’s difficult to pay attention to the current story when his vision is so full of you each week, but he’s heard you chat about it enough to get a good idea of what to expect next. The protagonist and her love interest, finally, seemingly getting together. It’s cute to see you so invested in something, and he too finds himself thankful that his friends have allowed the continuation of the series in the privacy of a company of two. “Yeah, real nice of them, huh?” He continues out of pleasantries, knowing just how much you wanna get started. Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

Even during the admittedly drawn out intro you’re cutely engrossed, the glow from the TV shining in your eyes so prettily, like there were stars or something, and he cringes at his sappy internal monologue. You’re still far more interesting to watch than whatever the screen is currently showing, and he takes his time when committing every detail of you to memory tonight. The innocent way your eyes are glued to the screen, the unknowing smile on your face as your favorite character shows on screen, the way you edge just slightly off your seat as if to get closer, closer to the screen instead of his arms. He huffs impatiently, low and quiet to himself at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to have you in his lap instead, he’d even still let you watch your favorite show, so long as he could hold you. Softly touching you, kissing the top of your head as a reminder that you are wanted. So deep in his thoughts of you that he doesn’t even realize how much time has passed— it can’t be that much— but he distinctly hears a moan that drags him back to reality. A soft but sinful one, his head snapping to the source of the sound as his cheeks instinctively flush. It’s coming from the TV, an intimate sex scene including those two characters you like so much. Already? He thinks to himself, so much for tension, before he finds his eyes once again falling on you, and he gasps a little at the sight that greets him.

Too many times he’s spent lonely late nights imagining exactly how you look right now, curled up in on yourself as you avert your gaze from the screen with an almost shy look on your face. Honestly, he never thought you’d ever optionally look away when this show was on, but he thinks you’re embarrassed. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face at the realization. It is a little awkward to be watching a sex scene with your friends, he can admit that. But he finds it difficult to feel uneasy himself, too amused at the way you clear your throat as the moans continue to fill the otherwise silence of your living room, keeping his vision locked on you to see exactly how you react to the explicit scene playing out with curiosity. Something he can use again you in the future.

“We can skip past it, if you want.” He offers before really thinking, his heart pace quickening as he tries his best to resolve your discomfort. Sure, it’s fun to watch you struggle, but all he wants is for you to be happy. “Really, I don’t mind—”

“No, it’s— I mean, it’s okay, really.” You stumble over your words, flashing him an appreciative smile before lowering your head once more to the ground.

Well, okay, he thinks. You’re clearly struggling to get through the scene, and though he’d rather you welcomed his help with open arms, he doesn’t mind watching you grow increasingly riled up by the exaggerated gasps and sighs from the show. In his more perverted mind, it’s easy to imagine that he’s watching porn with you right now, a quick look back at the TV screen shows naked bodies rolling around together, sharp inhales and teasing giggles. He wonders if you’d react the same way to him, then just as promptly he corrects himself and knows he’d have you moaning louder than that. And deep down in the pit of his stomach, or a bit lower than that, he feels as though this is his chance to show you that fact too, sighing to himself as he tries to resolve his inner conflict— and obviously fails. Because it’s about you, and he hasn’t a hope in Hell when it comes to you.

“You sure?” His voice is soft, spoken lightly and carried with faux reassurance while his hand stretches out to meet your trembling thigh, sucking air in through his teeth at the way you jump from his touch. “I don’t mind, cause it seems to be… Getting to you, y’know?” He smirks through his words, knowingly teasing you despite his heart wanting nothing more than to soothe. Can’t help it, you’re too cute like this, all blushy and pouty thanks to his words. And given the chance, he’ll do more than just soothe things for you anyway, so he doesn’t feel too bad in his taunts. He notices your thighs squeeze together in response to his words, or maybe it’s because of his feather light touch, he doesn’t mind either way. Regardless, his cock stirs in his tight pants at just how easy you seem to be, how innocent and sensitive you’re acting, shying away from his view at just how quickly he’s picked up on the state of you. You like this scene, maybe a little too much, huh? Not that he’s complaining, his own heart racing at just the light drag of his knuckles up and down your leg, catching the way you shiver into him, the small bite of your lip that causes his cock to jerk against his leg. Ah, maybe confessing can wait a little bit longer.

It takes him a moment to find his voice again when you refuse to answer, and he’s surprised to hear the breathy tone he carries with his words— “You can… Y’know, deal with it, if ya want.” He pauses, gauging your reaction to his invitation to touch yourself. Internally, he’s debating on his next words with extreme caution. Sure, it’s normal to masturbate, everyone does it, everyone knows everyone does it. But, is it too weird to talk about it with your friends? Maybe only if they’re the opposite gender, right? Because he’s had countless conversations about the topic with Sam, but never with Abigail. And he realizes then that it’s because he’s got a crush on you, and rather than it being an invitation, it’s an attempt at begging. “Really, I don’t mind.” He simply settles on, smiling reassuringly at you when your eyes finally meet his. And it’s true, he doesn’t mind, would relish the opportunity to relieve himself in private too if he’s honest— the look you’re giving him going straight to his cock as he imagines fucking his friend right on the very couch you sit on.

And then quietly, almost inaudible, he hears you squeak: “Really? You’re okay with that?” and he all too eagerly nods.

“Absolutely. Who am I to judge what you get off to, right?” He half laughs, attempting to make the otherwise awkward situation just a bit less embarrassing for you, shifting in his seat to hopefully make his hard cock less noticeable. “Take your time, I’ll be right here—”

Oh, wait, you’re undressing right in front of him? Instinctively, he looks at your face for answers, a quick flit up only to be met with a playful grin. Seductive, maybe? He knows better than to assume, though more than that, he knows better than to speak up when your crush is taking the first step towards assumed intimacy. Well, there’s no hiding his hard on now, is there? Your bold actions causing his pants to feel even tighter, his hands frozen in his lap while he carefully watches you peel off each individual layer of clothing slowly. So slowly that he’s convinced you’re teasing him, the continued gasps and groans emanating from the TV fading into the distant background as he instead favors listening to the soft shuffles of your clothes, the muffled thud as they’re dropped carelessly to your floor. Fuck, he already thought you were pretty before, but seeing you take action like this almost makes him dizzy with how attractive he finds you, and his inability to take the initiative back from you due to how in awe he is of your body only further turns him on. He knows you know well enough that he hadn’t meant to take care of “business” right here and now, in front of him on your well worn couch, but he can hardly complain at how you chose to mischaracterize his words when he’s no better than you are right now. “I—” he tries to speak. “I mean— fuck, okay—” He’s laughing, though not at you, and your cheeky side smirk back at him lets him know you understand.

“Is this okay?” You whisper at him.

“Shit, yeah, no, it’s cool. I— I don’t mind, go ahead.” He struggles to get the words out fast enough, but he smiles back at you when hearing your nervous giggle.

Without realizing, he anxiously runs his hand through his hair, thumbing stray strands out his face so he has a better view of your revealing body. The last item of clothing drops and he exhales harshly, unaware of the breath he was holding up until that point. You’re naked bar your underwear, and he curses low under his breath at the mere sight. This is confirmation, isn’t it? That his feelings aren’t just one sided, that he was taking too long to confess and so your hand was metaphorically forced, swallowing hard at the sight of your hand actually dropping to pet lightly at your clothed cunt. “Fuck y’can’t just— I mean I want you to it’s just—” He’s already gasping, replaying scenarios he’s fucked his fist to at night but coming up empty. Nothing compares to you right now, the cute blush on your cheeks, the way your lips part with heavy breathing. Shit, okay, he needs to tell you exactly how he feels. Wide palmed stroking at his painfully hard cock, no shame left in his system when you’ve just given him a wordless go ahead, he’s ready to cum just from your show of want— but he instead just teases himself. Wants to really show his appreciation of you soon enough, but first he needs to take control back. You’ve had your fun, now let him.

He clears his suddenly dry throat while you angle yourself towards him, biting your lip to presumably stifle moans. No, don’t do that, he thinks, cocky confidence taking over his mind with the understanding that you’re waiting, seeking his command like a good girl— and he’s all too happy to give in to you. Watching you drag a single finger up and down your clothed slit idly, eyeing at the growing wet patch near the bottom, fuck he wants a taste— “You can take em off.” He quickly glances up at you, but as if physically pulled back down, he’s drawn to look at your cunt again, his palm circling against the clothed wet tip of his cock as he leaks precum all over the inside of his pants for you.

And though he’s controlled mostly by his cock right now, he’s still a little surprised to see you listen to his words, his voice coming out in a shocked rasp of “Fuck, you’re really doing it…” which is less of a question and more of an admiration. Because yes, while this is the single hottest thing to ever happen to him, he also genuinely likes you. Wants to be with you for more than just this, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone, right? Seems you agree from how eagerly you get moving, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs as you hike them up a little, knees pressed to your chest to give him such a good fucking view, oh my God, of your pretty little cunt before your panties peel and drop to the pile of your other clothing on the floor. His cock hard and wet, drooling over his legs enough to prompt him into at least unbuttoning his pants to offer just a little relief— only a little. Because he’s more focused on you right now, and how pretty your thighs look when pressed together like that, and how tasty your wet little cunt looks as he finds it difficult to keep himself sat in place at the other end of the couch from you, wanting only to dive head first between your legs to eat you dry— he’s never been hornier than he is right now, and it’s all your fault. He’s got front row seats to the best show in the house— you, and he’s filled with need to show you that you’re a lot hotter than whatever they were showing on TV.

“Touch yourself, please— God,” He ends up begging, too turned on to really care for the embarrassment of sounding so needy, and it seems you’re much the same. A small whine escaping your lips that, he swears, almost makes him cum on the spot. So completely fraught with need for you right now that his body automatically turns to face you, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, his rock hard cock front and center for you to masturbate to— no regret present on his features as he looks to your moving fingers with glazed over eyes, his mouth remaining slightly agape while he breathes shallowly. This is so much better than anything his mind could create, his chest tight with want for you and his balls full of seed, the palm resting on his cock now digging harder, circling his cock faster in a plead to have you match his pace. You must know what you do to him, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking your time so slowly, bitting on the inside of his cheek with impatience until your finger finally meets your slit and your legs magically open. And fuck, what a sight that is. His hips jut up on their own accord once you’re in position, head tilted back slightly as if to try and calm himself down before snapping back to watch you part your lips and drag a finger from bottom to top on your slit.

No amount of porn could have prepared him for this, the intimacy present in each glide of your finger up and down your cunt, collecting the slick drooling from your hole to drag it back up to your clit. He can hear just how wet you are, heart caught in his throat as he swallows thickly in concentration. “You’re not watching the show…” You mewl, and he has half a mind to pin you under him right there and then.

“Don’t care, this is better.” He’s quick to moan. “Can you— Can you go a little faster?”

You nod, and he has to fight with himself to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the sweet sounds you let out at the increased pace. His fist wraps tight around the bit of cock he can reach before he grows immediately frustrated and instead digs his hands under his pants to free his cock some more, sighing into the relaxed feeling of freedom until he once again starts to palm at himself— then he’s tight lipped groaning. He feels like a dirty pervert, touching himself to you touching yourself, and he wonders if you feel the same. He thinks you should feel like royalty, the full effect you have on him in clear display as he touches himself to you, struggles to keep his hands to himself when you sound so pretty for him. And you’re such a good listener too, his cock jerking to the understanding that you want to please him too, fucking your little cunt faster as per his words, your palm sticky with slick that he wants to lick all clean for you.

He can’t hold back much longer.

“Do you mind if I—?” He asks, alluding to his cock as he nods down to it— still clothed, still rock hard and needy, still leaking precum, still wanting to be balls deep in you.

A quick nod of your head and he’s pulling his pants off faster than he’s ever done in his life, boxers coming with them as he clumsily tugs them off enough to kick them the rest of the way, throwing them into his own pile of clothing on the floor to half match your state of nakedness. He hisses into the cold air that kisses his tip once free, almost moaning as it slaps against his tummy with how rigid he is. “So fuckin’ hard—” He hums, mostly to himself, but he’s happy you’ve heard him too given the soft moan you let out too. “Look at what you did to me, fuck, what you do to me—” He praises you, leaning back against the armrest of your couch to fuck his hips forward, just a little, as if to really show off just how much he wants you, his fist quickly connecting to the base of his cock before he’s dragging it upwards to collect the copious amounts of precum you’ve pulled out of him and pulling back down, coating his whole length wet to tug at. And he’s not shy about it either, too far gone with the lust pooling in his tummy to care much for anything other than the need to get off, to get off with you. As he always does, really, even if most nights he’s alone in doing so, but now’s his opportunity to show you how much he likes you— cock hard and ready just for you, because of you.

He doesn’t mind an audience as he jacks off, so long as that audience consists of you. Hurriedly fucking his fist to a desperate tempo to try and quell the butterflies that fill his chest every time you make a sound, pulling the hem of his hoodie up to reveal some of his toned tummy for you to gawk at, to somewhat return the favor. God, you sound better than he thought you would, his own moans caught and quiet as he does his best to instead make room for you, to listen intently, ignoring the loud schlick of his fist pumping up and down on his dribbling cock and rather focusing on the wet squelch of your little cunt. How fast your fingers fuck into yourself, how he hopes to God you’re thinking of him, wanting to replace your fingers for his cock as he so urgently needs to. No words are said, not that he can think of any anyway— head empty and replaced with primal need, wanting moans shared among friends as he gets off with you. How he wishes he could speak though, to tell you how hot you are, how he’s dreamed of this for so long, how he’s so close to cumming just from watching you— doesn’t even have to be touched by you, just being in your presence is enough to get him off. And he’s focusing so hard on the way you flick at your clit, how fastly you circle against it, learning exactly what you like so he can hopefully mimic it at a later date all while he’s thrusting into his tightly closed fist and mumbling your name like some sort of prayer.

He’s getting dangerously close, and he hasn’t even been able to appreciate you like you deserve, show you exactly how he feels about you. And so—

“You wanna— wanna ride me?” He ends up choking out, acting out of pure instinct and talking before fully realizing his words, eyes rolling to the back of his head despite his best efforts when instead of verbally responding, you start climbing towards him. All of it happens so fast, his knees buckling and straightening out on the couch, sliding further down the length of it so that only his head remains on the armrest and you have plenty room to sit on top. His hands work on autopilot, finding home on your hips to help steady you above his lap as your nails rake up his tummy, digging under his hoodie to drag it further up his chest, causing him to moan into the hunger of your actions. Urgency is what he feels, desperate for the feeling of you wrapped around him as you immediately take hold of the base of his cock as soon as you can, his hips bucking into your touch to seek the tightness of your hole, unable to stop the tense moans tumbling from his open mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, guide it in— Sit on it, yeah?” he hopelessly babbles, fingers digging into the fat of your waist to try and pull you down his cock as you catch the tip to your hole— and then he’s done for. Completely at your mercy as you slow the tempo down, gradually fucking more of his length into your little cunt with subtle bounces until he’s all the way inside and he can finally breathe again. It’s difficult keeping himself held back enough not to hurt you when you feel better than anything he’s experienced before, his jaw strained and appreciative moans high-strung as he wills his hips to still for a second or two, let you grow accustomed to his fat length.

It takes him a second to actually collect his breath though, mind clouded by how tight and warm you are wrapped around his stupidly hard cock— so much so that it’s impossible to form any coherent thought as you sit flush on his lap. “No idea.” He manages to mumble, groaning at the seductive way your breathe huh? in response. Causes his hips to fuck upwards into you regardless of his best efforts, trying to thrust deeper into your tiny hole until there’s nothing left for you to take and grinding his hips against you. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this, fuck.” His hands dragging your waist down to circle you on his cock for you, doing all of the heavy lifting simply because he can’t stop. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside of you, shit, y’feel so good—” he continues to gasp, his ass lifted off the couch under him to really drive his cock further into you. The action causing you to whine his name so perfectly, so sweetly as he circles his cock in you that he’s forced into more movement. Like something inside of him snaps, the last remaining resolve he has to treat you right falling the moment he hears his name sounding like that. And then he’s going, his beg for you to ride him thrown out the window as soon as he thrusts once into you, instead forcing you to fall back down on his cock with every precise hump of his cock into you, bouncing you up and down at his own pace due to how powerful and needy his thrusts are. You’re not riding him so much as he’s fucking you from below, keeping you pinned close to his cock so that he’s barely exiting your perfect cunt despite humping you into the air. He holds on to you like his life depends on it, a droning whine escaping his lips at the increased friction he fucks into you with, spilling loads of precum against your insides that inevitably end up running back down his cock with each speedy thrust. And your tits, God your fuckin’ tits, hypnotized by they way they bounce with his fucks— so badly does he want to reach out and grab one of em, drag it into his mouth for him to feed on while he fucks you raw— fuck he’s fucking you raw. A rough growl clawing up his throat at the thought, feels too fucking good to warn you of his predicament, can’t stop fucking into you like he was under a spell.

A shuddered “Tight little cunt, yeah? Feel s’fuckin’ good, shit— Look so hot riding me like this—” cut off only by a gasp at the sound of you so needy for more, his cock throbbing inside of you with want to preform but he’s so close it almost pains him to hold back. He was right, you are louder than the show girl, self assurance running through him and going right to his tip with the confidence that he’s fucking you better, the loud skin on skin slap resonating in the room to drown out whatever is left of the TV. He’s never felt so good before in his life, unable to even imagine going back to a life of just his hand now that he’s had a taste of your cunt, the feeling of your legs squeezing around him as you attempt to match his speed only to inevitably fail from how frantically he thrusts into you from below is too fucking cute, his balls tight and taut as he nears his end before he’s even truly started: something that would be embarrassing if not for the fact that he hopes you understand it’s because you really do feel that fucking good and he’s genuinely that in love with you that he can’t— he can’t hold back any longer. Fucking his dream girl while she displays herself so completely on top? The sight of your tits, your cute scrunched up face, the feeling of your cute little cunt sucking his cock so well? Yeah, there’s no way he was gonna last very long.

“Sorry— M’sorry, babe—” he whines, a high pitched sound to match his eager humps as he’s unable to stop the predictable from happening, looking directly into your eyes in hopes of communicating just how badly he wants to make it up to you immediately following as he thrusts into you a couple more times, fast and hard, burying himself completely into you before shooting a fat load deep inside your tiny cunt. A soft sob of your name followed by loud, gasped moans, like he’s forgot how to breathe again, his hips still obsessively humping into you to prolong his orgasm— the best of his life, might he add— and to fuck his cum deeper into you in some sort of innate need to claim you, insides and all. He said he was sorry, but he isn’t really. Not even when you let out a pathetic whine from the loss of stimulation, promising you: “Jus’ a minute, gimmie a sec.” With harsh pants as he allows himself to come down just enough to move back into action. He wants to act fast, to build upon what he’s just promised you.

“C’mere,” he breathlessly pleads with you, signaling for you to hop off his cock for a moment, forgetting all about the mess his cum will surely stain into your couch. “Jus’ sit right there, trust me.”

And because you’re a good girl, you listen, and he tuts affectionately down at you to soothe the pout you’re sporting. “Lean back a bit for me, yeah? Let me apologize.” He whispers, soft and flirtatiously, helping to guide you into position on your back, similar to how he was just moments ago while he hovers over you. The confused stare you look back at him with is so cute, and he can feel his mushy affection for you edge back in as his cock controlled brain starts to calm down, now focused solely on making sure you’re seen to as his dominant hand dips and disappears between your legs. Not a second later and he’s collecting the dripping cum he’s just fucked into you from your hole, using it as lube to rub gently at your clit as you look at him with shock. “Told ya.” He smiles, rubbing soothingly at your inner thigh with his free hand while he strokes your puffy clit. “Sensitive girl, made me feel so good, fuck— Y’look so pretty like this,” he dotes on you, hoping his words will help you get off where his cock failed— though he doesn’t think you mind too much. Not with how your grasping so insistently to his loose hoodie for stability, or from the way your legs wriggle and draw him closer, the room filled with your enticing moans each time he completes a circle on your clit. Now, with a clearer head and with you quite literally in the palm of his hand, he coos down at you with intent. “Think I love you. Really.” And he can’t stop the loving smile that tugs on his lips, nor the surprised sigh that sneaks up on him as he feels your locked thighs tremble around his back.

Next time, he’ll have you cumming on his cock. He has to, the sight of your back arching into him, the lewd expression you wear so well with the voiceless moan, fuck, he can feel his cock harden again just from pleasing you. His heart full at the thought that hearing his confession is what finally made you cum, humming quietly down to you while he finger fucks you through your high, thumb still rubbing lightly against your used clit while you gush for him— “So pretty, good girl.” He compliments you, praising you for a job well done in getting him off and satisfying his need to see you finish, too. It’s all he wants, really. To make you happy by any means necessary, and he’s happy to fill the role you had him play tonight any day, gently helping you come down from your high with slowly decreased movements until you lazily smile back at his adoring expression.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks calmly, because he obviously knows the answer already, but he wants to check in with you regardless.

You nod sleepily, followed by a soft “Mhm, thank you.” Before reaching you arms out for him to lean into, and he enthusiastically gives you what you’re seeking, his half hard cock resting against your sticky cunt as he wraps his arms around you too, pulling you in for a tight hunched over hug on your (now) stained couch.

Better than any show ever, he’s sure.

“I meant it, y’know.” He whispers against your neck after a silent moment, nosing further into it until he’s able to place a few light kisses against your heated skin with a smile.

“I know.” You reply, and he can’t help but remain hopeful when you squeeze his body tighter, wrapping your legs around him further to ask for more closeness. “But you made me miss my favorite show, so…”

He laughs a genuine, deep, bark of laughter against your shoulder before he huffs defiantly, pulling himself off your exhausted body with the intent on chastising you for alluding to the fact that your show is better than his sex, but he can’t find any strength left in him to tell you off after catching sight of how pretty you are when all fucked out. So instead, “I know, I’m sorry.” He relents, sitting back into his original side of the couch to stretch out a bit. “We can try watching again after a shower, if you want?”

“Yeah.” You yawn, and his heart hurts with just how much he loves you. The simplistic domesticity of the moment getting to his head as you extend a hand for him to hold, to help you get to your feet. “I’d like that.”

He’ll just have to get your return confession out of you… After your show.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #- writing

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blue-jisungs · 2 months

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ACTION!

author's note. first fic of the event!!! thank u so so much @slytherinshua for making this cute banner<3

genre. crack, fluff, coffee shop au, non-idol

word count. 1048

summary. movie major!vernon decides to confess to you, lead by an impulse (and a rush of caffeine)

as creepy as it sounds, vernon has been watching you. not in a stalker way, of course, but it just so happened that you both liked the same cafe.

and you shared the same classes, like literature. and you both attended the movie club. and! he sometimes saw you on the gym when he went to accompany work out with mingyu.

he realised this a while ago – he has a serious crush on you.

he adored the way you always painted your nails with a glittery nail polish, the way your h/c hair fell on your arms perfectly. you also had amazing taste – not only he loved your fashion style but also during the club discussion about movies, he realised you both share the same taste in movies. and tropes… and favorite directors.

or when, like right now, you chewed on a straw while your gaze was stuck in your laptop. the almost coal-black coffee looked sweet as hell when you drank it.

letting out a deep sigh you put the plastic cup away and rested your chin on your hand, looking out of the window to observe passers-by. the pleasant chatter of the people inside the cafe made it really easy to space out.

vernon failed to notice that he let his hand lie on the keyboard, his essay turning into a bunch of incoherent letters.

suddenly, the door opened and a gust of cold wind sneaked inside causing you to turn around.

oh shh– you looked his way, don’t look–!

maybe it’s the day he should confess? you live once, no? he already asked his friends for a piece of advice – chan said to leave it, jeonghan insisted to go for it.

vernon sighed, grabbing his stuff and packing his belongings. careful enough not to nudge the empty glass after his cappuccino and plate with the rest of a lemon tart, he put his precious laptop covered in stickers into his bag. drumming his fingers in thought against it for a moment, he precisely weighed his options.

whatever, he’ll try. the worst you can say is no. besides, he once described emma watson as “a bit foreign, eyes beige and hair darkish-blondish”… so, props to teenager vernon for being so creative but he won’t be so corny now. hopefully.

maybe… i think i’m in love with you and you just gotta let my love adorn you. no, too poetic. and he’ll sound like a weirdo. no, no.

vernon ordered an americano (extra shot, extra ice, make it nice) and grabbed it, taking a deep breath. casually walking up to you, he cleared his throat.

“can i?”

your eyes tore away from the window and a cute smile appeared on your lips, brightening your face.

“sure, vernon. sit down, i wasn’t being productive anyways” you nodded and moved your laptop to make some place.

“y-you know my name?” he stuttered before plopping down. here goes his coolness…

“yeah, seungkwan introduced us. and we share classes together” you nodded, observing how the gears visibly turned in his head.

“would you like to be a part of my movie?” vernon suddenly blurted out and he felt as if the whole cafe turned quiet. no chatter, no rumble of coffee machines working and glasses clinking. just you, him and silence.

the tips of his ears reddened but his features remained calm.

“what? dude, i know you’re a cinematography major but i’m no professional” you scoffed and started chewing on your straw again.

“no, like… that was stupid. wh… you know what i major in?” vernon was, yet again, taken aback. you nodded, taking a sip of the black liquid. the ice cubes in your cup bounced off the plastic walls when you stirred it.

“vernon, you’re a friend of a friend. if course i know. you know my major too, so…” you let out an amused laugh and it was the most angelic sound he’s ever heard “but is the movie like a project?”

“no… just… y’know how everyone crushes emrata, emma watson or like, emma stone?” he named all the emmas he could, seeing that clearly you were confused by his words “and you… you’re just like everyone’s favorite movie”

“what the emmas have to do with that though?” you blinked, apparently ignoring his previous sentence.

vernon let out a shaky breath and looked around the room. couples, students, businesses men in a hurry. everyone surrounded by the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans in the air.

“that you’re way prettier than all of them combined. and i used to have… no, let’s not go there. i keep making weird parallels to movies but what i wanted to say is that i have a huge crush on you” the boy said, fiddling with his thumbs and missing the way the straw fell out of your mouth. his eyes kept scanning the people in the cafe, afraid to meet your gaze “if you don’t know, let me explain girl. hmm, so what i mean is that saying you’re perfect is not enough…”

you scoffed at his adorable awkwardness. his iced americano began to drip on the table long ago, a small puddle of water forming around it.

“vernon”

“even if it doesn’t work, it’s okay…” he shrugged, looking like he was talking to himself at this point rather than to you.

“vernon…”

“we’ll probably fight from time to time but we’ll overcome it like it’s nothing–”

“chwe hansol!”

his gaze snapped up, eyes widening.

“not the government name?! sorry. what were you saying?” vernon rose his eyebrows and then blinked slowly. oh he’s such an idiot.

“you’re so cute” you snickered and leaned forward, resting your chin on your interlocked hands “sure, let’s give it a go. action! as they say on movie sets, no?”

“wha… are you serious?” vernon couldn’t believe this. it all happened so quickly and very impulsively… and… it happened for real.

“one hundred percent serious, you movie nerd. i thought you were cute ever since i joined that movie club… so why not?” you nodded gently and saw a white smile bloom on his lips.

“i… i kinda can’t believe it. but so… y/n, may we go on a first date then? movies?” he asked excitedly, whipping out his student id “i have discounts!”

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

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prince-kallisto · 2 months

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Taking their Left Hand: A Deal with the Devil

I find it fascinating that now with the release of Crowley’s card and his groovy art, the “extending of the hand” theme has become even stronger. But now that I am looking at Crowley, Malleus, and the hand in the mirror, I noticed they are all extending their left hand!

In traditional superstitions, left handed people were associated with the Devil or just overall bad luck and clumsiness (sad to hear as a lefty myself 🤣). It is to the point that in the past, and in some cases in the present, that left handed children were forced to learn how to write with their right hand through the use of physical punishments or straight up tying their left hand down so they couldn’t use it. But where does this malicious association come from?

It varies from both culture and religion, but this book from 1891 covers the basics of it. Greek and Latin translations of “left” has several negative connotations related to clumsiness, ill omens, and in Latin it directly means “sinister.” Some lore also mentions that the left road is “the road to ruin,” and Scottish folklore even say that it is an ill omen to meet a left handed person when setting out on your journey. …Let’s put a pin on this particular note and return to it soon 👀

You may notice that in Christian iconography, God is often depicted with significance to his right hand- the “right hand of God” being his favored hand, and his left hand is the hand of judgment (The Archangel Gabriel is also known as “God’s left hand”). This is seen most clearly in the parable of sheep and goats, where the sheep are on his right side will “inherit the kingdom of god,” and the goats on his left are the fallen souls who will “depart from me… in everlasting fire.” The “right hand of God” is also used as a metaphor for his omnipotence.

This is where the Devil being associated with the left hand begins to grow. You’ll often see in art (such as cartoon or in movie cinematography) of an angel and Devil being on someone’s shoulder- and the devil is nearly always on the left- because it was believed evil spirits and even the Devil himself watched over one from the left shoulder. Some believed in the 17th century that the Devil “baptized” his followers with his left hand. And in the infamous statue of “Le Génie du Mal” (The Genius of Evil or the Spirit of Evil), Lucifer is depicted crying from his left eye, and holding a broken scepter and crown in his left hand. Notice the bitten apple below his feet, and how his left hand is also chained!

In western esotericism, there is a concept of the “left-hand path” and “right-hand path.” Right-hand path magic is light magic and associated with good and the right hand. Whereas the left-hand path is black magic, associated with evil, “amorality,” and the left hand. (Important to Note: Although the left-hand path is highly associated with black magic, it is not the same as what the left-hand path is. Many occultists critique this definition, some saying these paths don’t necessarily refers to good or bad magic. It is more the idea of amorality and seeking power and freedom through breaking constrictions, whereas true right-hand path has stricter moral codes and believe in the idea of karma/judgement)

It was even believed that witches greeted the Devil with their left hand. Women who were left handed or even had natural markings on the left side of the body were accused off being a witch during the time of the Salem Witch trials, and burned alive for it.

Now that we’ve went over this, what does this ACTUALLY mean for Crowley, Malleus, and the hand in the mirror? Returning to the pin I left earlier, meeting this left handed person is an ill omen, a road to ruin. Crowley and the hand in the mirror are the FIRST scene in the game, with Crowley even saying to take the hand in the mirror. This phrase of his is repeated throughout trailers and the manga.

Malleus is technically never the “first” person we really meet. He is notably absent at the opening ceremony, and even though he makes mysterious appearances at Ramshackle, it’s never really the “first” 🤔 BUT when we look back at Book 7, Malleus is essentially making everyone reborn into a new world without sorrow. And this scene is also where he says to take his hand. With Malleus recreating the world, he is the “first” to introduce you to it, and by taking his hand, it is the beginning of a new journey. Notice how his live 2D model has him using his left hand for magic in these scenes as well!

Crowley’s opening ceremony where he unlocks the coffins to wake everyone up feels very much like a parallel to Malleus being the orchestrator of the dreams- everyone is asleep and can only wake up by his command. We don’t yet know the identity of the hand in the mirror, but I do think it’s interesting that the Dark Mirror is the one who states that the nature of Yuu’s soul is shapeless and colorless.

And and, in official art, Malleus is frequently the one front in center, sometimes directly associated with the hand in the mirror. In this art above, there’s is the idea of the true “happily ever after,” where a crow with a key (Crowley’s symbol) is in front of the Dark Mirror, right above Malleus. All three of them are directly connected with a column of light 🤔

And and and, in Malleus’ Glorious Masquerade card and Crowley’s Raven Jacket groovy, don’t they look like they’re reaching out as a gesture of salvation or mercy? The way the light is always above on them only as they reach their hand out to you…and in Crowley’s card, the perspective is taken from inside the coffin- likes he’s leading you out/waking you from your death or something- even though he looks a bit sinister in his art🤔

Now, this is not to say that I think Crowley and Malleus are evil characters (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) I do think there is purposeful symbolism with their left hand being an “ill omen” and associated with Devil imagery, but when I think about the left-hand path vs right-hand path, it feels like taking their hand symbolizes both freedom AND the road to ruin. Remember Crowley’s lines in the prologue- they are all running out of time, and Malleus in book 7 is looking for the happy ending. I think the story of Twisted Wonderland is inevitably a story that goes down the road to ruin, but these characters are looking for some hope in this darkness 🤔 Crowley has hope in Yuu and Grim in that they can change everything- and this change will indeed bring a lot of necessary suffering to it for the good of everyone.

I hope what I’m trying to say makes sense! 🤣 I think these parallels are really interesting, but in the end I don’t really know what they mean 🤣 I’d like to hear everyone’s thoughts on this pattern and your interpretation of things- there’s a lot of possibilities that I have never thought of! \(//∇//)\

I’d also appreciate any insight/needed correction for the biblical texts 🤔 I am not religious- so there’s possibly things I missed (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) I have actually considered reading the full text of some sections of the Bible and such religious texts tho for Twisted Wonderland just because I’ve made several theories by now connecting to biblical lore 😭 One day perhaps- anything for my Crowley theories 🤣 I’d like to cover connections to Faust, Paradise Lost and maybe Dante’s Inferno too one day, so…my reading list is stacking up! 🤣

#twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #twst spoilers #twst theory #twst crowley #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #kallistopost

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dare-to-dm · 5 months

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Bioware games in the aughts really went off with their cinematography. Like, the cut scenes are doing a lot of heavy lifting with their in game graphics. Obviously the graphics look dated now, but even for the time, they weren't top of the line. But they did such a great job setting the scene with camera angles, lighting, character animations, music and such that these cuts scenes are still pretty compelling.

For example, I always watch the full Battle of Ostagar cutscene in Dragon Age Origins because it does such a great job building tension and putting you in the mindset of the soldiers.

youtube

Another scene that was done so well it pretty much lives rent free in my head is when Sovereign takes over the Citadel in Mass Effect.

youtube

I don't really have any deeper analysis than that, I just think these scenes are really neat and I appreciate the artistry that went into making them.

#video games #Mass Effect #Dragon Age #Bioware #Dare Original

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cipheramnesia · 1 year

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One of my personal internal conspiracy theories is that big budget special effects movies and streaming series with like hundreds of millions or billions of dollars sunk into them are some kind of very open embezzlement schemes.

Even the best paid actors and directors and such can't explain the budget. The money certainly isn't on the screen when it comes to anything from costumes to cinematography to visual effects or editing. It's openly known all the jobs that contribute to "making the pictures look good" are getting their parts of the budget slashed. The Avengers Infinity Wars movies have got $300M price tags and they do NOT look like it. Rings of Power cost like $700M and literally used off the shelf craft store fabric for armor. They dump cheap CGI in because there's no union to keep the pricing fair and shoot everything on green screen so there's no travel and where is the money going?

But for example if you're a producer you also get paid, and all I can think about is how producers with business degrees are deciding on how the budget should be used on these huge shows with country sized price tags and if the budget isn't going into anything or anyone involved in the actual work of the movie, but the guy who thinks the movie needs to cost less and be a business product also thinks he has the most important job and he gets to decide where the money goes? Are these guys just like "okay, our salary will be $299M and the rest goes to the production itself."

I know I'm missing things, but I've seen hundreds of movies that look gorgeous and beautiful and have amazing effects and camerawork and they're all a tenth of the big budget shows and movies, or less, so where is the other 90+% of the money going? It's VISIBLY NOT PRESENT IN THE FINISHED PRODUCT. Who has it?

Someone already went into the technical details in the reblogs.

#idk this is conspiracy thinking #just obsesses me #they look cheap because they are cheap yet the budgets are huge #this one got locked bc some nice people went into detail and helped #and then the rings of powar fandom decided to start using it for harassment

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idkwhatimdoingbutslay · 9 months

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It is soooo very important to me that Arcane decided to zoom in on this moment. I don’t even have the brains to fully explain why but I guess it just obviously shows the real turnaround in their dynamic.

Going from complete distrust to pissing each other off (especially Vi to Cait) then being forced to have each other’s backs because they’re all the other one really has in this situation.

I don’t even know what I’m trying to say because of course Cait and Vi have a ton of pivotal moments within the series when it comes to each other but this one, the way it’s framed and portrayed is obvious but not as obvious as say the bedroom scene or the brothel scene.

It’s not just the dialogue that shows the shift but the way such a simple gesture like gripping each others hands and helping the other up is zoomed in on. I think I might just be raving about the cinematography and how it also contributes to the development of our girls’ relationship.

Plus it’s not the only zoomed in hand holding we see.

From “okay, I’ve got you” to “okay, I trust you” to “okay, we’re in this together”

ALSO the fact that it’s Caitlyn and Vi who both went in for the grab in the first image, then Caitlyn went in for the touch to comfort Vi in the second, then Vi went in to reassure Caitlyn in the third. They’re both kind of all in and it’s amazing that you can see that even without dialogue, but with each look and caress and how they’re framed right in front of our eyes.

I’m just stating the obvious because obviously when something is zoomed in on, it means it’s important. But it’s not just important to the narrative or our interpretations of their relationship as we watch, but it’s important to Caitlyn and Vi personally. I’m talking about them as if they’re real (THEYRE REAL TO ME!!!), but they’re still individual characters in this relationship, so having these simple gestures be framed in a way where they’re finally aligned and somewhat in agreement with how the moments should be construed compared to how they tend to be on different wavelengths constantly in other times in the show… idk it just hits.

Ummm so yeah Arcane is a good show and does a good job at being a show I guess.

#this is a ramble that doesn’t mean much but they are soooo them to me and I just had to yap about it #arcane #caitvi #vi arcane #vi #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn #violyn #piltover’s finest #piltover's gayest #vicait #caitlyn x vi #Vi x caitlyn #to slay or not to slay

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kairiscorner · 9 months

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Hey! Got a lil request!

I feel like Hobie would love to watch horror/scary movies so I would like a fic of Hobie watching a scary movie with reader that doesn't like scary movies cause they hate hyper realistic gore. You can imagine how he'd react to them being squeamish.

Thank you for reading this (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

HI @k4tsu3 POOKIEEEE OFC I WILL MAKE IT >:DDD HOPE YOU LIKE IT BOO 🫶🫶🫶

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

no need to worry, i'm right here. — hobie brown x reader

summary: as much as you want to enjoy movie night with your boyfriend, you could never bring yourself to find peace and enjoyment at the prospect of hyper realistic gore and nightmare fuel for days on end. luckily, hobie understands that you don't enjoy this as much as he does, and even luckier, he's willing to hold you all night and change the movie if you want. word count: 586

you tried to put on a brave face, though it was nothing like the look of enjoyment on hobie's face as he awaited to watch the movie you two scrounged up on some shady website. he laughed every time a pop-up appeared and poked fun at it as he exited the tab, though you awaited those pop-ups like the sunrise to a long, restless evening, because it was your excuse not to see the barrage of dark atmosphere and frightening elements of the movie you two were watching.

you listened as hobie made live commentary in murmurs on how good the cinematography was, how realistic the makeup on the actors were when they were using gorey elements for the shots. you smiled uncomfortably at the sound of hobie's amazement towards the execution of the movie and tried your hardest to look away from the compellingly loud sounds from the film. you shivered and whimpered a little as you curled up next to hobie, who was initially confused as to why you were suddenly clinging on to him, but he didn't mind--in fact, he loved that you were clinging on to him. though something told him you were clinging on to him for reasons other than you wanting to hold him intimately.

hobie went over and paused the movie and looked at you with a confused yet concerned look. "y'alright, love?" he asked you with a head tilt as you nodded and tried to smile sweetly up at him. "of course! of course, hobes... 'course i'm okay..." you stammered as hobie smirked, not buying your faux declaration of being 'okay'. "is it the movie?" he asked you as he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. shivers ran up your spine as you lightly nodded and leaned back on his chest in embarrassment. "...yeah. it's just, i don't wanna ruin movie night for you, hobes... we watch every movie i like, and, i wanted to watch something you like, in return. i'm sorry..." you muttered as hobie kissed the top of your head and brushed away stray hairs on your forehead and smiled.

"love, there's nothing wrong with being scared of a movie, let alone not wanting to watch it because of it. i'm glad you told me, and to be honest, i could go for watching a different, less violent, film right about now. you know me, i love me a good double feature." he said as he clicked off the tab you two were watching on and searched up a movie you were raving to hobie about, one you loved that he hasn't seen before. hobie grinned at you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders again. "you alright with rewatching this masterpiece you told me about, dear?" he asked you with a wink, to which you chuckled lightly as you placed your hand on top of his and smiled at him. "i am if you're eager to see it, i could watch this a million times and still be blown away, especially now that you're watching it with me..." you whispered as you pecked a kiss on hobie's cheek. "thank you for understanding, hobes..." you told him as he kissed your cheek back. "don't worry, love. your comfort's always my priority. besides, this actually looks really promising, can't wait to see it." he said as he clicked play and you two laughed as the button redirected you two to an ad for hot single moms in your area.

a/n: (((y'all watched the barbie movie /hj)))

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @arachnoia @pixqlsin @solecitoszn

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown fluff #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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kmgkmg · 10 months

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KISS ON THE TRAIN - CHWE HANSOL

word count: 0.7k...

pairing: hansol x gn!reader

synopsis: you and your boyfriend hansol are riding the train home, how will the commute go?

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, bf!hansol, established relationship, domestic

warnings: slightly suggestive

rating: pg-13

a/n: no editing done :O just in my feels for vernon! title is from the song kiss on the train by araya!!

“No, I can’t kiss you innocently, babe.” Hansol whines as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“And why’s that?” You laugh, amused at your boyfriend’s unexpected clinginess.

You were both seated on the train, waiting for the doors to close again. Several days ago, Hansol stumbled across a video detailing a film festival taking place in your city and excitedly bought tickets for the two of you. You didn’t take much convincing to go, you loved movies as much as him seeing the films together was just the icing on top. But, the video failed to mention that the festival was an 80 minute train ride from your place and that there were about six different events taking place today. So, nearly four hours after the festival finished, you and Hansol were still crammed on the train. You asked him for a quick peck on the lips, needing to recharge after the long day but he firmly shook his head no.

“I mean, unless you want me to makeout with you on the train…” He trails off, not moving his body an inch from yours. His fingers were softly entwined with yours.

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!” You jokingly scold, “A simple kiss is all I asked for. The rest…well we can do that when we’re back home.” You finish, squeezing his hand that was interlocking with yours.

Hansol shifts from his position next to you and stares into your eyes, “You mean it? I thought you would be angry with how crowded the commute back is.”

“Why would I be angry with you? I mean sure it’s hot and musty right now, but you couldn’t have predicted that. Plus, the movie festival had so many up and coming BIPOC directors. It was nice to see such a wide range of films! I mean the way that they’re breaking genres is inspirational, right? Especially that last one, Fireworks from Space? That one totally reminded me of Sorry to Bother You with LaKeith Stanfield.”

Hansol listens intently to your ramble, happy that you enjoyed the festival as much as he did. He loves your shared passion for movies. He loves the way your eyes lit up — without fail — whenever you were excited about something. Sure, he’s dated his fair share of people, but never someone as big of a cinephile as him.

“Fireworks from Space was super underrated! Y/N, I can’t believe we were two of the only ten people that went to that showing. And I definitely see what you mean by it resembling Sorry to Bother You. I think it also has similar aspects to Wes Anderson’s cinematography with the attention to detail, specifically symmetry.” Hansol went on an equally long tangent, relieved that you weren’t upset with him.

“Yes! I think I read in the interview with Director Jeon that he was heavily influenced by Anderson’s movie The French Dispatch when storyboarding for Fireworks from Space.” You elaborate, having your stomach loudly rumble at the end of your sentence.

Before you could play it off, Hansol was scavenging through his bag trying to find anything to curb your hunger.

“Hansol, I’m fine, really!” You tap his leg, trying to get him to stop his rummaging.

“No, here at least eat this to tide you over. Then we can pick up some takeout at that Korean place a block from our place on the way home, yeah?” Hansol was holding a granola bar in front of you. He already opened the plastic packaging and was waiting for you to take a bite.

“Wait, so a quick peck is too much to ask for but you’ll feed me?” You frowned.

Without batting an eye, Hansol leaned in, rubbing your leg with his free hand and kissed you deeply. Each time he kissed you, you felt as if single handedly knocked the wind out of you and gave you air simultaneously. Nearly half a year of dating him and he still left you a mess.

“There. Now eat, Y/N.” He instructed, holding the granola bar up to your face once again.

“O-okay, but I can feed myself.” You replied, taking the snack from his grip.

He returned to his original position of resting his head on your shoulder, satisfied with himself.

You watched several films, but the scene that just played out was undoubtedly the most memorable of the night.

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cryptomiracle · 3 months

Note

hoodie with a s/o hcs?? :D

Tysm for the request, it means a lot <3

WARNINGS:

Manipulation

Gaslighting

These aren't ordered, I usually categorize hcs but not this time!!

Obsession(?)

Stalking

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

he keeps a photo of you with him at all times, one in his pocket, and one in his wallet.

He has so many photos/videos of you, he genuinely does adore you

he especially likes to take candid photos of you when you're doing random tasks, whenever he's away from you, he'll scroll through his phone's gallery looking at the many pictures of you, they remind him of his home, with you.

he still actively pursues cinematography and gets you to star in his little films.

he's a heavy sleeper, and when he sleeps he spawls all of his limbs out, kinda like this "🤸" taking up the whole bed

If you wanna sleep, you're either gonna have to sleep on top of him, or on the couch cause that man is NOT getting up.

he has a box fan going at all times, all year round, no matter what season it is.

He's a morning person, he'll be up at 5 in the morning filled to the brim with energy, no coffee needed.

Sometimes, he'll accidentally wake you up, but he always makes up for it by making you breakfast.

he listens to yacht rock (america, the doobie brothers, steely dan.. the works)

he has a slight southern accent, but it's not too heavy.. until he says something like "oil" or "white" then it really comes out

he has a few freckles on his back

He enjoys tracing your features, gently gliding his fingers against your eyes, nose, cheeks, etc.

Sometimes he'll just look at you and smile, like if you're doing laundry or dishes he'll just stare at you with a grin, admiring you.

he enjoys a little gossip I won't lie

He's the type to sit in the car with you after picking you up from work, and let you tell him all about whatever drama is going on at your job.

If it's something REALLY messy, he'll ask you about it later.

He drives an old, blue and white 1972 Chevy C-10

he follows you around like a lost puppy, a creepy, kinda off-putting puppy that you don't know is there unless he wants you to know, but a puppy nonetheless.

He keeps mental tabs on people you interact with, he won't follow them around or anything, but he remembers things about them.. their name, age, how you know them, their home address, etc.

You'd be surprised at how much you could find out about a person online

The quote "I'm not a stalker, I'm an investigator" fits him perfectly

he has to make sure you're safe, it's a dangerous world out there yk.

he never ever talks to you about his emotions, or how he feels, unless you ask him directly. but all you'll get in return is:

"Honey, I'm alright.. really."

"I'm fine, how are you though?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

he feels that his problems are his own to deal with and that he shouldn't bother you with them.

when you two fight for whatever reason, (which rarely happens because he purposely goes out of his way to avoid making you upset) he has a habit of gaslighting you

he'll say things along the lines of:

"I understand but.."

"I never said that.."

"we talked about this.."

he only really manipulates/gaslights you when he's genuinely worried you may leave, (even if you aren't actually going to) he uses it as a way to make sure you stay.

for him, there is no stopping point unless knows 100% that you're gonna stay.

He will literally fall to his knees, and break down in (fake) tears in a public area and BEG you to stay with him.

He doesn't get embarrassed by it because he knows it's "necessary"

If an argument is getting too heated, he may bring up your ex-partner(s), or people you just went on dates with before you two got together, even if it didn't go any further than that. Especially if you didn't tell him about them previously.

Don't ask him how he knows about them, he'll immediately take that chance to shift the blame onto you, asking why you didn't tell him about them beforehand if you had told him about them earlier, he wouldn't have had to go digging to find out about them.

when he does that, It's really just him grasping for straws, usually in an attempt to change the subject.

If you couldn't already tell he's a smooth talker, not just in a manipulative way.

he is such a flirt, there's rarely a conversation between the two of you where he doesn't slip in a little flirting, whether you pick up on it or not.

He's sneaky like that

Since we're on the topic of him being sneaky, he's a bit of a thief.. he'll steal your things and carry them with him whenever he leaves you for more than one day at a time.

that old T-shirt you haven't worn in a year that was sitting in the back of your closet collecting dust? yeah, that's his now.

If you collect little trinkets, you'll definitely have to buy a lot more of them because he'll steal them and hide them away in the glove compartment of his truck.

He doesn't steal with malicious intent, he'll return them eventually (except for the trinkets) he just feels like he needs something of yours, other than pictures to be close to you when he can't be, yk?

Something that smells like you, to remind him of what he has waiting for him at home.

Kind of like when you randomly catch a whiff of a nostalgic smell from your childhood, how it brings you peace, even if it's only for a second.

honestly, he's not very big on physical touch. he does enjoy having little intimate moments with you, like cuddling or playing with your hair, but other than that.. he's never one to initiate it. unless of course he really needs your touch.

just being in your presence eases his mind, you're like a lighthouse standing still in the vast, dark, uncontrollable ocean he considers "his life"

You're the only person in his life whom he feels he can be truly vulnerable, truly safe with.

which is why he won't let you go, no, can't let you go. you're the only stable thing in his life, and he'd be damned if he just let you walk away.

I've decided to try a new writing style cus I like rainbows and stuff! ^^

I will be re-reading this later, please tell me if you spot any errors !!

Also, I apologize for this being short, but I kinda ran out of ideas so-

#creepypasta #headcanon #creepypasta headcanon #marble hornets #brian thomas #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets headcanons #hoodie x reader

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canmom · 28 days

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Ping-Pong The Animation: eps 1-3

So Masaaki Yuasa [AN12, AN28, AN150] can do no wrong, right? OK, well, I'll admit Ride Your Wave was kinda mid, and Devilman Crybaby goes hard as hell at the beginning and end but sorta treads water in the middle, but... generally speaking! No-one does it like Yuasa.

For reasons I don't really remember, I didn't get very far watching Ping-Pong The Animation some years ago. It should be entirely my shit: Yuasa pulling in a gang of wildly creative animators to put their unique spin on something. However, the first episode didn't entirely hook me, and I never got round to trying the second before something else punted 'watching Ping Pong' out of my brain. ADHD, y'know.

This is a shame because even the very next episode seriously goes, as does the one after that. But also this anime isn't entirely what I was expecting (crazy sakugafest full of Yuasa weirdness). Not to say it doesn't do a lot of really unique stuff with its cinematography and animation, but these first episodes at least are more about like... dissociation! ennui!

But more on that in a mo. First I wanna continue the thread of 'how do you animate sports'.

So, ping-pong, or table tennis. Not a sport I know much about, I'll be honest. (To be fair I don't know a lot about sports in general outside of some very specific niches. The sports I've pursued so far are rather eclectic: swimming, fencing, tai chi chuan, and roller derby; I never got particularly far in any and it's been years since I've done them.)

I'll inevitably be drawing a lot of comparisons to The First Slam Dunk, the other sports anime I've watched recently. I do think it's a productive comparison though! Both of them bring something of the visual language of manga into their presentation in unique ways. I have not yet read the Ping Pong manga, but it's by Taiyō Matsumoto, otherwise known for scifi manga like Tekkonkinkreet (god tier movie, still need to read the manga) and Number Five. So that's a pretty impressive track record!

If you go take a look at some scans of Ping Pong, what will immediately jump out is the shaky, rough line style and unusual camera angles and compositions.

The stylisation is also very different from a lot of manga. Noses are fully drawn, eyes are realistically small, and in contrast, lips and mouths tend to get the emphasis - as well as hands.

Knowing this makes a lot of the creative choices in the anime make sense! It also adopts a shaky lineart style, and makes use of heavy line weights and spotting blacks to add definition. It also has a lot of crazy closeups and layouts, and it loves a visual metaphor. But most of all, the most striking element of this anime is how often it loves to split the picture up into little panels...

...which [eli]'s subs do a really good job of typesetting, incidentally, moving the dialogue to fit naturally into the split composition. And while this shot with 7 smaller shots is perhaps on the extreme end, splits of three or more are pretty frequent. It's a really interesting way to evoke the effect of seeing a whole page of manga

So, as you proooobably know, ping-pong is a game of bouncing balls off a little table and directing them into places the opponent will find it hard to hit them back. From watching this anime I picked up that there are a number of styles of holding the racket (e.g. 'penhold grip' and 'shakehand') and approaches to hitting the ball (e.g. 'chopping'). A lot of this pretty much went over my head, but honestly it didn't matter, since the narrative significance was pretty much always evident.

Compared to basketball, though, ping-pong is a pretty tricky sport to make visually interesting! Sure, you have the players running to and fro, and that can lead to some interesting poses, but how do you get the drama and tension into this?

Ping-pong additionally is all 2D, it doesn't have the sort of resources that Toei could throw at making the best looking 3DCG basketball game ever. It is limited to a TV-feasible drawing count. So it has to make use of clever limited-animation tricks to get the most impact out of fewest drawings.

Let's take an example sequence from episode 3. A minor character is about to get his ass kicked by Tsukimoto. Tsukimoto is something of a pingpong prodigy, and yet he is very emotionally closed-off and even standoffish; he doesn't particularly seem to like the game very much, and doesn't particularly feel inclined to flex on other players and get into the status games. But other players, like Wenge, have heard about him and want to see what he's got.

First we have the setup. Other characters are observing and discussing the game. Since ping-pong tends to involve very rapid exchanges, it can follow the classic shōnen model where there's a lot of talking, flashy fight sequence, more talking...

The cut happens in two steps, maintaining the vertical dividing line. This approach to cutting is used a lot in Ping-Pong, and it's quite a creative way to keep visual interest when it's using a lot of largely static shots. The panel on the right is more animated than the panel on the left, a naturalistic depiction of bouncing the ball off the table.

Things start moving faster here. A rapid pan on the image on the left disguises the fact that this anticipation pose is actually not moving at all. This then goes into a rapid, explosive moment as this guy serves.

The final pose is held for a couple of seconds while the voiceover line discussing his intended move finishes. This sort of elasticity of time is a very Osamu Dezaki type of move - it's something that Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata actually really disliked.

A sound effect hits as Tsukimoto appears on the right in silhouette, anticipating his reaction, and setting up the next shot which leaves the split picture and hides the background for just a moment, as if to put us in Tsukimoto's shoes: he only sees the ball.

Tsukimoto follows through and holds this pose - the ball is the only thing moving here. The ball moves mainly on 2s while Tsukimoto moves on 3s and 2s, and he and the ball move on alternating frames. He holds the pose as the ball zips off to the right (bouncing off the corner of the table), with a speed lines-like effect. At the end of the shot, the ball freezes in the air for the moment while the sound echoes.

The actual table-tennis round lasts just seconds, and the drawing count involved is pretty minimal, but it does a lot with those drawings.

We go back to voiceovers and reactions in the next few shots, returning to the split video as Tsukimoto's opponent thinks about how he'd really rather be at the beach...

Often, these comic-like compositions will change one panel at a time, and while one panel is animated another panel will be still, naturally moving your eyes across the screen. It is an approach similar to some experiments I've seen in 'animated comics' viewed in a web browser, where the panels do not appear all at once, but enter with some animation.

So this is the sort of animation technique that Ping Pong uses. It's effective! Elsewhere the cuts are used in a less direct, continuity-editing way and more in a juxtaposition/montage way. For example, Wenge's desire to return to China is symbolised by match cutting/fading to shots of an aeroplane.

And there is a recurring image, which I'm sure will be expanded on, of Tsukimoto hiding in a cupboard and wishing for a tokusatsu hero to come save him from his isolation. As Tsukimoto's feelings about himself change, the toku hero is replaced by a robot. At this points it starts to feel like an outright Ikuhara anime.

There is occasionally a little bit of CG, mainly when Tsukimoto uses a different type of racket surface, and the way the ball and racket make contact is the crucial thing that the shot is trying to convey...

It gets the job done, but I'm glad they stuck with 2D for most of it.

So I went in the first time expecting like, crazy elaborate sakuga - and to be fair, the OP, animated by none other than Shinya Ohira, delivers on that front - but if anything what I've seen so far in Ping-Pong is actually a triumph of storyboarding and limited animation techniques. I think back then I didn't have the eyes to appreciate it in the same way.

OK, that's the film nerd stuff, but what about the story? Ping Pong follows two school friends, Makoto Tsukimoto aka "Smile" (right), and Yutaka Hoshino aka "Peco" (left). Smile is defined by a flat affect and a standoffish persona. He's just going through the motions. He's very good at ping-pong, but to him it's just a way to pass time, and he's scornful about the idea of caring all that much about it. Much like Shinji with his casette player, Tsukimoto is pretty much always staring at a handheld games console rather than make eye contact with anyone.

Peco on the other hand is the more childish one - playful, kinda arrogant, very much an 'emotions on his sleeve' kinda guy. He sulks when he loses and gloats when he wins, and is constantly seen with bubblegum or other kinds of candy. He provides a lot of our commentary when he chats with the other players.

日本語上手 readers probably noticed the tsuki (moon) vs hoshi (star) symbolism thing they've got going on here!

High-school table tennis in this story seems to be a rather 'tough love' kinda world. Most of these players tend to look down on those who can't meet their level. Going easy on someone is seen as weakness, or cultivating bad habits, by almost everyone. Tsukimoto doesn't play at his full potential because he isn't as invested in winning as all these weirdos, but it seems that might be starting to change...

The coach is interesting. He's an old man and fairly disdainful of the club at large, and prone to speaking English randomly with a heavy accent. But he gets excited at the prospect of getting Tsukimoto to unleash his full potential, in terms that are repeatedly metaphorically compared to romance/marriage.

And when Tsukimoto gets sick of it, he challenges him to a game, with the stakes as...

Cue Makima/Beatrice images here I guess.

Tsukimoto de facto wins when the coach collapses, but this episode marks a change of heart. He starts to think of himself as a robot - the affect of a robot replacing the affect of the toku hero in his fantasy. And in this way he does what people seem to want and plays ping pong with mechanical precision, expressed once again in visual metaphor (shot here from a cool transformation sequence)...

What if I just dissociate harder? This is gonna end well.

So it really is one of those kind of like 'ennui of being a teenager' kind of stories - c.f. say FLCL. 'Boy with complicated emotional landscape' is Yuasa bread and butter, but the particular variant here seems a little unusual for him - they tend to be a little more earnest. I'm curious to see how Tsukimoto develops.

I am definitely enjoying the arrogant Chinese player Kong Wenge. Dude's got a lot of screen presence, and while I'm sure he'll get shown up sooner or later, he makes for a very fun antagonist of sorts.

In comparison to Slam Dunk... one thing that's significantly different about table tennis is that it's an individual rather than a team sport, which means it's harder to have an ensemble cast all contributing to the protagonists' eventual victory - instead it's about a lot of individual arcs interweaving with each other, individual duels. Besides that, it does seem like it will be following a similar arc of a character in an emotional hole (grief for Ryota, depression for Tsukimoto) finding new meaning and purpose through sports - though I can't be sure how things are gonna go for Tsukimoto here!

The tone however is quite different. Even when it's silly, I feel like Slam Dunk is a very sincere story. There's little detachment or irony, or false consciousness - with perhaps the major exception of Ryota's mother, who lets her own grief and trauma get in the way of understanding her son. But ultimately 'why would you care this much about basketball' is not a question that anyone would ask in Slam Dunk. Even the judo guy in the manga who's trying to recruit Sakuragi is just as hot-blooded about his own sport of choice.

There's a difference in like, general affect about the players as well, which has something to do with the sport itself. Yeah, Sakuragi's superpower is his 'genius' ability to predict rebounds, and there is plenty of strategising in Slam Dunk - but basketball is still a sport that very much emphasises physical power, and as much as Slam Dunk will work hard to sell you on a clever trick pass, the visuals are also emphasising the speed that players are dashing, the height they're jumping, their physique. Table tennis by contrast seems to be a sport that's more about prediction and mind games.

That said it is equally just like Matsumoto's style being different from Inoue's. Now I know it's by the guy who wrote Tekkonkinkreet, a lot about this series falls into place! There's a sense of tension here, of being fundamentally at odds with the world. The autismfeels. This is reflected also in the drawings - the characters don't entirely seem comfortable in their embodiment.

So if that's what I'm getting from just three eps, I'm very excited to see what the remaining 8 have to offer. This series is probably too long to cram into Animation Night format, but we'll see...

#anime #manga #ping pong the animation #masaaki yuasa #animation

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