#that's probably why you will never see this illustration in the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

schrodingerscougar · 2 months

Text

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare #simon riley x reader

984 notes · View notes

magicspeedwagon7 · 4 months

Text

a lot of analysis of "Saltburn" that i see on the internet focus on the text/subtext and maybe the symbolism but i'd like to focus on how messages can be conveyed by the visual elements of the film.

after your first viewing of the film, you've probably asked yourself a lot of questions, including: did Ollie genuinely like Felix (and all his plans derailed dramatically) ? or was Felix a mean to an end from the beginning (and Ollie's mistaken his obsession with Felix, more precisely what he represents (i.e. coolness, wealth, injustice etc) for genuine affection) ?

first and foremost, let's talk about the ratio used all throughout the film which is 1.33:1. so not a perfect square - that would be 1:1 - but here's a screenshot of my computer while i was playing the film on my media player so you can see the biiiig black stripes to the left and right.

such a square-ish ratio - especially compared to larger ratios, the hollywood standard being 1.85:1 - allows paying attention to the characters instead of the background in wide shots or floor shots and offers 'intimate' close-ups because little to no background is to be see as you get closer to the characters. the main drawback and that we cannot capture imposing backgrounds with it. it just doesn't fit.

the scene where Felix shows Ollie around the house illustrates perfectly the paradoxes of the film. Saltburn is central to the film and yet just a background.

the camera never moves away from Felix, not even when Ollie looks left and right. to add insult to injury, the narrow frame prevents us from looking at anything else even if we wanted to.

"some fucking hideous Rubens" said Felix. Rubens that...we will never see. same for the maze Felix will die in: we'll see it later.

of course, the previous scene depicted Ollie as insignificant compared to the castle but i think this scene is here to establish Duncan as the gatekeeper of the castle in a very literal sense. as if the gates of the castle had taken on a human form in the form of Duncan.

but the moment Felix comes in, all eyes on him.

for me, the message is clear: before the death of Felix, we don't care about the castle . there's not even a single room of that castle that you could describe extensively. do you know what Ollie's and Felix's rooms look like? and the dressing room? etc. Ollie was genuinely obsessed with Felix and he had to improvise when he died that aspect of him is not part of any scheme. in contrary i think the moments when Ollie's sexually excited by Felix (cf bathtub scene, grave scene) are Ollie's rare moments of vulnerability when his real personality slips through. he cold-bloodedly killed all the members of the Catton family except Felix he genuinely cried for.

that's why i do not subscribe to the view that every single thing Ollie does is part of a scheme from the get-go. sometimes, Ollie improvises and his obsession for Felix is not a mean to an end.

#saltburn #saltburn spoilers #saltburn movie #oliver quick #felix catton #jacob elordi #barry keoghan #cinemetography

801 notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 4 days

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 62

part 1 | part 61 | ao3

cw: violence, off-hand mentions of drug use

Light bleeds through the cracks in the boathouse walls. Max is the one who found it, spotted the glowing bulb over the door and called them down the slope behind the house to check it out, and now Steve leads the group inside and clings to his nail bat in a way he hopes is reassuring but is probably just putting everyone else on edge.

Can’t really be helped, though.

Place gives him the creeps.

It's dark and dank, overwhelmingly humid, with a smell like mildew and old food over a layer of fear sweat, and the wood groans beneath their feet while the walls sway with the breeze. Makes it feel like the room is breathing, like they're standing inside of a haunted lung.

Steve braces himself in the middle of the room, head on a swivel while the group fans out around the edges, dipping in and out of shadow. Dustin calls for Eddie. Max checks the latch on a window. Robin points her flashlight at a pile of food wrappers and says, "This looks new."

Steve flexes his fingers on the bat; picks up an oar, too, just to be safe.

"What?" Dustin snorts. "You gonna dual-wield against your boyfriend?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He's not my—"

"—Ex-boyfriend, then, whatever. Still can't believe you never told me about that."

“Okay,” Steve huffs. Dustin’s grumpy muttering sounds more hurt than he’s letting on, but he’s letting on plenty, and Steve’s too keyed up to do this right now. “Can we just—” He gestures around the room with the oar to illustrate how completely not the time for this it is. “Can we not?"

"No,” Dustin protests, voice rising, “no, we can't not, Steve, because you—" He steps into Steve’s space, jabbing a finger against his sternum and backing him up to the edge of a tarp-covered boat. "—are a liar. You have been lying to me for months! And now it looks like you're gearing up to try and bludgeon my good friend with two blunt objects!"

"Shut up!” Steve snaps. He takes a deep breath; lifts the blunt objects in question, giving them a little shake. “First of all, it's not the boyfriend I'm worried about using these on, and secondly—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence.

He doesn’t get to plant his feet.

With a noise like a war cry, something blue blurs at the edge of Steve’s periphery and launches him across the room, shoving him backward over tarps and tackle boxes until his back slams against the wall and knocks the wind out of him, and his skull smacks the wood and sets off a snow storm in his vision — muffled ringing in his ears, tornado warning wailing through a thick layer of cotton. Steve’s friends are all shouting, and there’s something sharp against his throat, and someone is barking questions at him; hot, stale breath over his chin; a fist balled up in the front of his shirt.

“Are you real?” the voice demands, hand twisting in Steve’s collar and tugging him against the sharp thing. “ARE YOU REAL?”

Steve blinks. Blinks and sways into the sharp sting beneath his jaw until the dizzy spell ends.

The scene before him comes into focus slowly.

Steve thinks, for the millionth time that day, that he must be losing his mind. That he must have lost it already.

The blurry, shouting thing is Eddie. Eddie, who is glassy-eyed and drooling like a wild animal, who is pinning Steve to a splintered wall with a shattered bottle to his throat; whose face floods Steve with such intensely euphoric relief that he thinks he finally gets why people do hard drugs.

Even now, even like this, the only thought in Steve’s head is how lovely Eddie's face is.

How grateful he is to see it again, even if it might be the last thing he ever sees.

Beside them, Dustin speaks in low, placating tones, holding out his hands and encouraging Eddie to back off. Promising that Steve’s not gonna hurt him, that they’re all just here to help as Eddie’s eyes slip over and past Steve and his body tenses for the kill.

“Not real, not real, not real,” Eddie mumbles, spit shining on his shaking lip.

The bottle knicks Steve’s skin.

“Eddie!” Dustin begs. Max and Robin's eyes are huge. And Steve—

Steve laughs. A soft, hysterical thing, barely voiced, because of course Eddie’s going to kill him. Of course he is.

He’s already been doing it for weeks.

"What happened to your knife?" he jokes wetly, tipping his head back to bare his throat.

The question snaps Eddie back to himself. Steve watches from under his damp lashes as Eddie's eyes sharpen on him, darting all over his face with sudden, painful awareness, with something dangerously close to hope.

The hand holding the bottle trembles. "...Baby?" Eddie whispers, wet eyes searching still.

Steve holds his gaze. Nods against the jagged edge.

Glass shatters on the floor as Eddie collapses into him.

—

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #my writing #my fic

257 notes · View notes

junggunz · 7 months

Text

own it | 🔞

summary: just some quick pwp with your favorite hoochie daddies cw: fem!bodied reader | smut | established relationship | taesoo: outdoor sex, breeding | corrupt cop!jichang: power imbalance, orgasm denial, semi public sex | husband!dg: overstimulation | p in v | all characters featured are 18+ wc: 4.4k total, ~1.3k each (??? tbh taesoo's is probably the longest) an: to my bbs who requested taesoo + breeding and dg + overstimulating his housewife. a million kisses for yall 💖💖💖💖 i threw jichang in the collection bc...why not.

──★ ˙ ̟TAESOO

It’s the end of the summer and the temperature has cooled down but it’s not so cold that when Taesoo pleads for you to go camping with him and get away from the usual chaos of the city you don’t deny him. The man’s affinity for nature and the outdoors occasionally makes him seem feral; but the only animalistic urges within him seem to be provoked by your presence.

It’s the very reason why after a mere ten minutes of stargazing together, Taesoo finds himself drunk on the fragrance of your pheromones and crawling on top of you, holding himself above you while his arms cage you in. His strong frame effectively blocks you from seeing beyond him, making you lose your place among the stars after so much straining of your eyes to search for constellations in the night sky. You suppose there’s no real issue with letting Taesoo be your brightest star when he’s always managed to leave you awestruck…

As much as you want to whine about the male being so needy, the way he starts kissing your neck clears away any complicated thoughts from your pretty little head. There was no use in complaining if you were perfectly content with letting Taesoo become your entire universe; his lips warming your skin like rays of the sun. His natural magnetism doesn’t just pull you in, but it totally consumes you in the same way a black hole would.

It’s truly primal how Taesoo pins you under his body weight, hands pawing at your clothes and pushing the fabric out of the way to get to where he wants. Lost in the sensation of harsh bites and nips at the column of your throat, you don’t even notice him slipping his cock out of his pants and lining it up to your hole that was slick and ready for him as per usual. It’s only when he sinks inside of you, a shocked gasp falls from your lips at the stretch. Writhing against the blanket beneath you, the little pebbles in the sediment that once bothered you felt like nothing as you’re now focused on the sensation of your walls trying to accommodate his girthy length invading your insides.

“Oh baby, you’re squeezing me so tight. You need to relax.” Taesoo groans out, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips despite the fact he was reeling from the pleasure of your warm walls hugging his cock brings him. “Unless…you like it when it hurts a little?”

Your cheeks become hot at his snide remark, causing you to weakly slap his shoulder in retaliation. Smiling even wider now, he bucks into you slowly and eases more of his length into your pussy; feeling the way you get wetter—practically soaking him— to permit him deeper inside of you. Arms snaking behind your knees to get a firmer hold on your hips, he buries his cock to the hilt within you; balls squashed against the cleft of your ass.

“Taking me so well, princess.” Taesoo hisses the praise, rough fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as his eyes threaten to roll back into his head. “This is the first time you’ve taken me without a condom, isn’t it? Should I make you a mommy tonight?”

Even with your mind fogged with lust, you’re able to grasp the weight of his words. Eyes drifting down to your point of connection, your jaw hangs open upon seeing the strings of your arousal coating his shaft are so thick and viscous, its appearance mimics the exaggerated dribbles of cum in illustrated hentai. Taesoo never failed to arouse you but this may have been the wettest you’ve ever been; you should have realized this when you felt that your cunt had an easier time accepting his impressive length than usual.

“Do you want me to breed you?” He questions, tone lacking the smug playfulness you were used to and only filled with a carnality that’s emphasized by the throbbing of his cock within your pulsing walls.

You nod shyly, unable to get yourself to tell him verbally but your silent answer doesn’t please him and he repeats his question; the second time around, each syllable is accented with a punishing thrust straight into your sweet spot.

“I’ll ask you again; do you want me to breed you, yes or no?” Taesoo repeats more sternly, eyes boring into yours as he awaits a proper response.

“Yes, please—” You whimper, tears starting to flood your waterline just from the tip of his dick so brutally pressing into your sensitive area, you have to stave off the urge to cum from the action.

Walls fluttering around his shaft, presumably in excitement, Taesoo takes your response as the greenlight to really give it to you. Ever so slightly adjusting his grip on you, he pulls your hips toward his as he thrusts forward into you. You let out something that resembles a surprised moan when he buries his length balls deep inside of your pussy, starting off the mean pace that has galaxies colliding with one another on the inside of your eyelids.

Vision blurred with bright colors. Body twitching, jerking, and jolting. Stomach frenzied with heat. Those are all just side effects that come with the nasty squelch and drip of your pussy being filled to the hilt with Taesoo’s cock. Each drag of his thick length against your walls has you whimpering, bringing a hand up to your lips and biting down on one of your knuckles to contain your moans. But Taesoo would have none of that.

“C’mon, princess, don’t be shy.” He coos, the gentleness of his voice not matching the way he viciously thrusts into you to provoke more noises to fall past those pretty lips of yours. “It’s just me and you out here, just like Mother Nature intended.”

Taesoo’s muscular chest lays flat against yours as he rolls his hips forward as hard and deep as you could take him, stealing a shrill moan that borders on a pleased squeal from your lips. And just like that, all inhibitions and worries about being too loud are wiped from your mind.

“You feel that?” He murmurs as he leans into your ear, the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix; adding a layer of pain to the mind blowing pleasure that sends your senses into overdrive. “I bet if I cum this deep inside you, I’ll definitely knock you up.” He chuckles while pulling back slightly to be able to look at your reaction to his words. As expected, you’re a frenzy of lust; corrupted by Taesoo’s infectious primal urges with your hair a nest and pupils blown out with desire as you look up at him. Yet your gaze still has that air of innocence, resembling the eyes of a doe.

“I want it so bad. Pleasepleaseplease cum inside—” You babble deliriously between breathy moans, your body arching into his to ensure that there was truly no more space between the two of you.

Moving as one, sharing the same end goal. You don’t bother to hold back the desperate pleas and noises that just fly off your tongue. Each and every one of your sounds just encourages Taesoo to fuck you with a renewed urgency; seeming more excited for your climax than his own. With just a handful of vigorous pumps of his cock into you, your walls convulse around him and your thighs tense up.

Seeing that you had reached your own mind numbing finish, Taesoo continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Now chasing selfishly after his own climax, he doesn’t have to search far to find it within your walls. Quite honestly, the idea of getting you knocked up in the first place had ignited a fire within him that could only be quelled by the sweet release of his seed flooding your walls. Filling you up so much, it starts dripping out of you before he could even fully pull out. And by the time Taesoo creates some space between your bodies, he looks between your legs to see your pussy still trying to recover from being stretched to accommodate the size of his cock and his cum dripping from the hole.

Instinctively, Taesoo wants to scold you for being so wasteful. However, a little voice in the back of his mind reminds him that nature is plentiful. And there would be plenty of other opportunities for him to pump you full of more of his seed.

──★ ˙ ̟JICHANG

Maybe you were at fault for getting involved with the wrong crowd and doing things that fell under a gray area of the law—but you knew for certain that the local law enforcement was not supposed to be handling you like this.

You swear, Officer Kwak Jichang has had it out for you for almost the entirety of your young adult life. From writing you up for underage drinking when you were only a few months away from the legal age to petty theft; he was always the one to put you in cuffs and haul you down to the station. Even now, when you find yourself as just a bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time, he’s the one roughly escorting you to the interrogation room to ask about some major violent crime you only saw the tail end of.

“Seems like you still haven’t grown up.” Jichang tuts with a short laugh, feigning disappointment once the door closes behind you and you’ve settled down in one of the stiff metal chairs at the lone table in the room.

“What can I say? I get a thrill out of being handcuffed by you.” You scoff sarcastically while you watch him take the seat across from you.

“You don’t have to be a little criminal for that to happen.” Jichang retorts with a smug grin, entertaining your antics for no other reason than trying to get under your skin.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. He definitely had no ulterior motives—purposely taking you to the police station for no real reason and putting you in the interrogation room that didn’t have a working camera.

Somewhere among the banter and sarcastic remarks about your ‘criminal record’, the conversation veers toward less than appropriate topics. Jichang knows it’s wrong for him to be actively flirting not only while on the job but with a potential witness no less; but he can’t help himself. With all of his previous run-ins with you, he had dealt with you trying to seduce him into letting you go. He was growing tired of only getting to see you in these types of circumstances so the reasonable thing to do in his deluded mind was to teach you a little lesson.

And maybe, just maybe, you would learn to stop hanging out with punks who keep getting you in trouble.

“Such a bad girl.” Jichang murmurs, delivering a harsh slap to your cunt as you are perched atop of the cold table with your skirt hiked up and panties torn to shreds; your sweet nectar staining the surface. “You need to be punished for your misdeeds.” Voice dropping an octave, he gives you another spank that sends a jolt through your body, leaving your clit throbbing from the impact yet bucking your hips upward in need of more. He repeats the actions, amused by the masochistic streak you display until you’re visibly trembling.

Jichang’s palm gently cups your cunt under the guise of trying to soothe the swollen flesh before slipping his fingers knuckle inside of you. Curling the digits expertly against your sweet spot immediately, you can only moan and grind into his hand desperately. His actions have you sinking your teeth into your lower lip, trying to keep your noises to yourself as you feel your walls clamping down his relentless fingers. Right when you think you’re about to fall over the edge, he pulls out of your needy hole with a salacious pop.

“What the fuck?” You pant, shooting the officer a glare as you look at him. Before you can complain any further, the very digits that were just inside of your pussy are now filling your mouth and forcing you to taste yourself as a means of shutting you up.

“I told you this was a punishment.” Jichang chuckles, eyes twinkling with mischief as he revels in the sight of you nastily lapping up your juices from his fingers. “You’re such a greedy little thing.” He murmurs, unable to ignore the heat that floods his body while he watches you slurp up every last bit of your nectar off his fingers.

Pulling away from you once he’s satisfied, Jichang tugs at his belt buckle before dropping his pants then pulling you to the ledge of the desk to line you up with his cock.

“Be good and I might let you get off.” He whispers gruffly and leaning in to plant his lips on yours while his shaft eases its way inside of your warm and pliant body; both of you moaning at the long awaited friction.

The stretch stings but it brings you a pain laced pleasure that makes your head spin. Fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, Jichang gives a painfully thrust into you, making you feel every ridge and vein of his cock is felt by your slick walls. The little noises you make as your pussy struggles to fit his whole length has him throbbing inside of you.

Rough fingertips leave their mark on your thighs and your hands claw at his chest, head tossed back in bliss as Jichang starts off at a brutal pace from the get go. You can only whine and whimper as his thick cock plunges in and out of you ferociously, giving you just a taste of how much you frustrated Jichang. Palms splayed on the back of your thighs, Jichang pushes your trembling legs closer to your body, permitting him deeper inside of you and causing the tip of his cock to press into the same spot his fingers had toyed with.

Getting fucked at this depth dangles the notion of orgasming right in front of your eyes but with your previous climax being ruined, you knew Jichang wasn’t going to let you cum so soon. With his sharp eyes trained on the sight of your sloppy pussy swallowing his length, he wears a focused expression that you crave to break. If you were able to get through to him before he pushed you to your breaking point first, you surely would be guaranteed at least one mind blowing finish before you left this dingy interrogation room.

However, with the sexual tension that plagued all of your other encounters with Jichang, you were fine with playing the long game. Especially when the feeling of him inside you was something you didn’t want to end too soon.

──★ ˙ ̟DG

Shielded from the prying eyes of media outlets and pampered beyond your wildest imagination, married life with DG felt like it was plucked straight out of a fairytale. It was easy to become jaded by the monotonous routines that came with being a housewife but with a husband who spoiled you like crazy and drilled it into your head that it was important to use your free time to nurture your hobbies and passions, you never lost the pep in your step.

Being pampered and spoiled rotten didn’t just apply to your daily life; it extended well into the bedroom with the way DG would gift you with orgasm after orgasm. With how many married couples seeking counseling or ending up in divorce due to losing passion in the bedroom, one would think that you were insane when you complained about your husband making you cum too many times.

But such a thing was possible.

When your husband has you folded in half, ankles by your ears while his fingers plunge in and out of your soaked hole. The digits press right into that spongy spot deep within your walls and the pad of his thumb every so often caresses your swollen clit, coaxing back to back orgasms that leave you gasping and trembling. The huge wet stain on the once pristine sheets that you lay on top of keeps you somewhat grounded in reality. However, it gets to a certain point where you can't keep up with how many times you've dispelled your nectar all over DG’s fingers or even think about trying to recall.

“T-too much. I need a break.” you pant softly, head weakly rolling back and forth on the pillows.

“Is it really too much to handle?” DG coos in a quiet voice, his fingers slowing down dramatically but still moving within you as he averts his gaze to your face. Cheeks wet with tears. Jaw slack and your tongue darting out to wet your lips before you speak, as wrecked as you were, seeing you like this really made DG want to keep going.

“Just give me a minute.” You say, your eyes falling closed as you try to collect yourself.

With that being said, your husband’s fingers slip out of you, leaving you feeling empty for the first time in hours. His hands don’t leave you for very long, opting to gently caress your body and soothe your overactive nerves. DG’s amiable touch does a good job of slowly bringing you back down to Earth; no longer feeling like your mind had gone off to Cloud Nine to never return back to the present moment. However, at the mere sight of your expression looking more serene and less drained while your figure relaxes against the sheets, you don't have any time to spare before the pink haired man kicks up the heat once again.

While your eyes are still closed, you don't see DG adjusting his position but you feel the way the plush mattress ever so slightly dips each time he moves around. You feel the warmth of his frame beside you and you assume he just wants to cuddle for a bit. With a small turn of your body, you lay on your side so he can pull you flush against his chest. Before you can even comfortably settle in his embrace, you feel one of his hands hook around your thighs and hike it up, allowing him access to your soaked, swollen folds. DG’s length languidly glides across your lower lips, so sensual and so careful, you truly don't mind it at first. It's only when the tip starts to prod at your clit, getting progressively more aggressive, you start to squirm in his hold.

“C’mon, baby… I gotta see you cum a few more times before I have to get back to work.” DG mumbles into your ear, knowing just how to get you to stop fussing.

All it ever took for you to fall in line and let him coax out all of these earth shattering orgasms was him reminding you how busy he got. Then just like that, you would continue to endure your nerves being pushed into overdrive every time. With how wet you were from previous orgasms, he slips inside of you with little trouble; your drooling cunt happily expands to fit in and slurps him up once he's breached your entrance.

"Ah…" DG groaned, the feeling of your hot silky walls tightening around his member sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips undulated slowly, each movement pushing him deeper into you as he began to thrust with more force. Quick to find the tempo that brings you to climax the easiest, you're drunk off the sensation of DG driving into your core with an unbridled sense of lust.

Your husband is obsessive as he basks in the salacious noises that your sloppy, squelching cunt makes every time he drives into you. He’s put into a trance by the sensation of your walls squeezing around him paired with the sight of you gushing around him; it’s almost enough to make him want to fill you with his seed. But the deep seated desire to turn you into blubbering, teary mess as you beg for him to ease up on you outweighs everything else.

“Do you remember your safe word?” DG asks sweetly, starkly contrasting against the way his hips are driving into you; mean thrusts targeting your sweet spot and provoking the most depraved sounding moans from you.

The weak nod you give him in response to his question satiates him for the time being. He had every intention of spending the rest of the evening making you cum until he was satisfied. Or if you genuinely couldn’t handle anymore—whichever came first.

#lookism x reader #lookism smut #taesoo ma x reader #taesoo ma smut #taesoo ma scenarios #kwak jichang smut #kwak jichang x reader #jichang kwak scenarios #dg x reader #dg smut #dg scenarios #junggunz.txt

761 notes · View notes

indigovigilance · 7 months

Text

Every single minisode is Aziraphale's memory, and why that's [not?] important

There is extensive meta-analysis, my own included, that Before the Beginning is a doctored memory resulting from erasure of Angel!Crowley, and that the trace of him that is left in Aziraphale's memory is the Starmaker, so that this is what we see at the opening of S2. With this foundation of "some scenes are altered memories," we can critically examine the minisodes and see that, in fact, they are ALL Aziraphale's memories that are potentially subject to doctoring.

Evidence (and exploration) below the cut:

A Companion to Owls

The largest part (S2E2 22:10 to 44:00) Book of Job flashback is book-ended by Aziraphale leaning over the physical Book of Job in his bookshop. We enter the memory when Aziraphale enters it, we leave it when he leaves it. Pretty straightforward.

The Ressurrectionists

Similarly, in S2E3, we begin the first flashback to 1827 with Aziraphale's "dear diary" entry. We flash out each time to Aziraphale: in the car to Edinburgh, getting out of the car at the Ressurrectionist Pub, and with Aziraphale staring up at the statue of Gabriel while standing in the graveyard in Edinburgh, respectively for each of the three flashbacks. This all strongly indicates that we've been in his memory.

Nazi Zombie Flesheaters

I didn't even notice until I was doing research for this that basically the entire episode takes place in 1941. From the end of the main title at 5:00 to 37:50, we never come out of the 1941 story. But what is interesting is what bookends this minisode.

Before the main title, Shax has tricked her way into Aziraphale's car and alludes to a time when a rumor started about our ineffable husbands:

Sometime in the last 80 or 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur.

And when we flash back to modern day, we first go to Hell with Shax proposing a full frontal assault on the bookshop, and then we get:

Aziraphale has arrived back in SOHO, and has spent the 8 hour drive reminiscing about what Shax alluded to.

But this part gets even weirder. Because the final line of the episode is:

You're really hosting the meeting? Absolutely! And I can guarantee you: it will be a night to remember!

What this means in context of the 3 memory sequence

This line has been taken by a lot of analysts as a reference to A Night to Remember by Walter Lord, a collection of first person accounts of passengers of the Titanic. Most notably, the thematic ties of this work to the cinematographic design of Good Omens are captured by this quote:

A key to Lord's method is his technique of adopting an unconventional approach to the chronology of the event, "[taking] an imaginative approach to time and space in which hours and minutes prove extremely malleable, the ship itself seems almost infinitely complex, and the disaster assumes order and unity from far away."

Which is an amazing connection, and probably true, in that it was a deliberate reference by the writers. "Malleability of time and space" describes well how this show is put together for us the viewer. But it also illustrates how Aziraphale experiences his relationship with Crowley; skipping over centuries at a time, while dwelling on and protracting intimate moments spent together, create a cohesive whole when viewed from a distance. That whole is their relationship. [Which is about to go down like an unsinkable ship.]

But absent the literary reference, we could even take this line for its literal meaning. Aziraphale is talking about forming new memories, after we have spent the last three episodes living in his memories of times with Crowley that were key to shaping their relationship. This isn't a S1E3-style series of allusions to a furtive, flirtatious, and organically blossoming intimacy; these are rough events where the two are shoved into moral quandaries and forced to make some really difficult decisions that bring them closer together and define "their side." These are core memories, and incredibly precious to Aziraphale. And now, after a few short days in which he has spent a lot of time ruminating on these intense memories, he is embarking upon the task of making another important memory, that is, dancing with Crowley.

Why We Care

Because memories can be altered, all of the information we get from these episodes is subject to a reliable narrator problem. As of the Gabriel trial, we know that memories can be doctored even when the person in question isn't present. Crowley knows that his memories have been removed or altered, and has put painful effort into retrieving them. Aziraphale may not realize that he has suffered the same fate. These memories that he holds so dear might not even be true.

Memory, Identity, and the Relevance of Fidelity

We would probably expect to get some "corrections" to these memories in S3, to see exactly what kind of manipulations our heroes suffered and what that reveals about the motivations of the perpetrators. That's how a paranormal mystery story with a memory manipulation element would normally proceed.

But it will be even more significant if we don't; it would speak to a philosophy-of-self that you are not the product of your objective past, but of what you remember, and so we don't get to know what actually happened because it doesn't matter to informing us about who Aziraphale is.

Aziraphale's love for Crowley springs from what he remembers about their shared past; it doesn't necessarily matter that the memories aren't true, because the love is.

~~~

I realize that I kinda buried the lead, so if you reblog, please tag appropriately? I'm taking suggestions.

If you want to read more on this topic, this meta by @ineffable-suffering is a good place to go.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #memory #good omens memory #erasure theory #ivoc

258 notes · View notes

viccharine · 8 months

Text

do you guys ever listen to a band so much that you end up making fake merch for it?

(reblogs greatly appreciated!!!!)

close ups and commentary under the cut!

about the poster itself: do you guys know how hard it is to make art for a band that hasn’t been active in 13 years? the answer is HARD (yes, i probably could done research and looked for old interviews for inspiration but who has time for that)

—> the icons related to “take a vacation!” are inspired by lyrics from the song “take a vacation!” (haha, did you see what I did there?) specifically, the lines “we’ll leave the waves at the ocean” and “we’ll leave the sand in a suitcase”

—> the Jon Walker and Ryan Ross icons are taken directly from the album cover (it took ten years off my life trying to figure out how to get them on here w/ the color palette—graphic design may be my passion but I never said i was GOOD at it)

—> the heart imagery comes from the fact that the band’s called “the young VEINS”—although it annoys me IMMENSELY that i technically drew more arteries than veins in the icons (my anatomy teacher would be so disappointed, but alas, anatomical accuracy had to be sacrificed to make it. yknow. look nice)

—> i did hand-lettering for all the text except for everything that’s in Helvetica (i did THAT in canva). the art program i use has a basically unusable text tool so I was forced to draw all of it, so I choose to believe that the reason why it doesn’t look. the best. is because of the caffeine shakes

some extra commentary: am I the only one who’s genuinely REALLY bad at listening to music? i don’t really get into bands as much as i just find songs that sound nice—to illustrate the extent of this issue: i did NOT know that Brendon Urie was a part of Panic! At the Disco. I’m not even kidding, I thought the artist who made Death of a Bachelor and the artist who made A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out were completely different and just. didn’t bother to check if I was right.

also, I’m not the type of person to be interested in band lore???? I rarely know the names of band members if even I’ve listened to the band for years (I really couldn’t care less in most situations)

case in point, i did not know who the FUCK Ryan Ross was!!! i knew he was in p!atd but that’s literally about it—before a couple of days ago if you asked to me pick out either Ryan Ross or Jon Walker from a line up I would not be able to get even CLOSE

anyway, my friend/manager is really into band lore, so I basically got a crash-course in all things “early to late 2000s emo band” and subsequently found out about the Young Veins (i was also extremely disappointed when I found out they only had one album and hadn’t been active in over a decade) THEN I realized that decade old, inactive bands don’t usually have merch, so I made my own! “merch” used lightly—i don’t think this is actually fit to sell lol

anyway that’s all k thanks byeee :D!! (and go stream the young veins!!)

241 notes · View notes

jayteacups · 1 year

Text

Ignorance Is Bliss

Out of the entire cast of Attack on Titan, the member that spends the least time online is probably Levi. And after seeing the responses to the latest collaboration promotional photoshoot, he wants to keep it that way.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader

Tags and warnings: Actor AU, established relationship, fluff, (my sorry attempt at) humour, some other characters are mentioned, a few suggestive things are briefly brought up in the form of internet slang, mild spoiler about Levi's state in S4

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: First piece of writing in almost three months 😭 my writing is rough I apologise in advance. Anyway this is very much inspired by the AOT x Gutedama collab illustrations. Might the use of internet slang become very dated in a few years? Probably. Did that stop me from writing this? No. Enjoy this incredibly dumb piece of writing XD

“Why the fuck are they calling me ‘breedable’?” Levi grumbles under his breath, causing you to choke back a laugh.

Setting your book aside, you shuffle closer to your boyfriend on the sofa. “What did you just say?” You ask, incredulous. You’re not entirely sure you heard him correctly—it isn’t a sentence you imagined leaving his mouth, ever.

“I said,” Levi repeats, waving his phone in his hand, “these random perverts on the internet are calling me ‘submissive and breedable’.” With his other hand, he creates air quotation marks. A deep blush washes across his cheeks and ears. “They’re all saying I did a slutty pose, too. How is that slutty? How?”

They’re not wrong, is the sentence that lingers on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you reach out, your lips twitching. “Let me see.”

He sighs and relents, pressing his phone into your hand. He’s been browsing Twitter. Or, more specifically, scrolling through the replies underneath a promotional photoshoot he and his cast members had a few weeks ago: some kind of collaboration with Gutedama, the Sanrio character. You’ve seen the photo before—the actors involved were able to get a sneak peek of the photos a week before they were to be posted, and Levi had shown you his. You’d thought it was hilarious, the way Eren, Mikasa, Armin and Hange all had ordinary, somewhat conservative poses, as opposed to Levi.

“I’m not surprised they’re reacting this way,” you muse, zooming in on Levi’s photo. “You do happen to be the only one on your back, with your legs spread and knees up, giving the camera a very clear view of your crotch. You also happen to be the only one with the ODM straps on, so that does draw attention to your thighs—which look great, by the way…”

Levi crosses his arms. “Don’t tell me you agree with those degenerates.”

Saying nothing, you pointedly continue to scroll through the replies and quotes. ‘He’s so babygirl,’ reads one. ‘I am going to breed this man,’ reads another. Both of those are very tame in comparison to what you have seen before, but as you dive in further, the comments become more and more debauched, most obviously being exaggerated jokes. It’s become the norm. You’re not threatened in the slightest, not at all—in fact, you’re amused. You simply tilt your head and say, “hm.”

Levi throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “Not you too.”

You look up at him through your lashes. “Listen,” you begin, “I’ve been thinking this since day one, but for your sake I didn’t say anything—”

“I am never doing these photoshoots ever again,” he grouses, rubbing his temples. “It’s not… it wasn't even my idea, the photographer asked me to pose like that.”

“Oh, trust me, they got you to pose like that for a reason.” You pass Levi’s phone back to him, patting his shoulder gently.

He scoffs.

“Maybe you should avoid Twitter for a bit, sweetheart, because this isn’t going to end any time soon.”

Sighing, Levi sets his phone down firmly. He resettles on the sofa next to you, his shoulder touching yours, warm body pressing up against your side. “I still don’t get it,” he grumbles. A small wrinkle appears between his brows.

“Get what?” Carefully, you lower your head and press a gentle kiss on the space between his eyebrows, right on the little furrow. He shuffles closer, now leaning his weight against you.

“I get that they’re joking, but… some of the perversions they’re speaking of don’t even make any sense. For a moment, I thought about asking Connie, because the kid basically lives on Twitter—seriously, his screentime is concerning—but knowing him, he’s not going to tell me anything helpful. He laughed in my face last time.”

“Wait, you asked him about this stuff before?”

Levi’s gone redder than a tomato. “I asked him what a ‘little meow meow’ was when the promo photos of me in the bandages got posted.”

You know perfectly well what a ‘little meow meow’ is, but elect not to say anything.

He continues on with his rant, nose wrinkling in both disgust and confusion. “That was a clear lapse of judgement, I know. I’m not asking him or the other kids a thing about this shit ever again. Anyway. What’s with these Twitter users wanting to ‘breed’ me? That’s not even possible. And what does ‘babygirl’ even mean? Isn’t that—” His face sours even further, a realisation dawning upon him. “Fuck, no.”

“What?”

“Isn’t that what the creepy guy from 365 Days says to the main character? That’s… no. I hate it. I hate everything. Fuck this.”

You tilt your head back and laugh. One of your hands comes up to cup the back of Levi’s head, pressing his face to your chest. “No, no, it’s not like that. It’s… it’s an internet saying. Don’t think too much about it, yeah?”

“You know what? I take all my questions back. I really don’t want to know.” His words are muffled. The two of you are sinking further and further into the sofa, lying almost horizontally, with him on top of you.

Giggling, you slip your fingers through his silky hair. “You know what they say. Ignorance is bliss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“So why were you looking through Twitter, then, hm? You usually stay off social media for weeks on end.”

“Why’d you think? The rest of the cast wouldn’t shut up about it in the group chat, saying I had to see what the responses to the photoshoot were…”

“By the rest of the cast,” your lips twitch with barely restrained laughter, “you mean Hange and Zeke, don’t you?” Those two always love to tease Levi about his rabid fanbase. “I honestly would not be surprised if one of those replies was Zeke on his burner account, having a laugh. You know how much he enjoys winding you up.”

“Fucking hell. I would not put it past him, now that you mention it. Thanks for putting that weird picture into my head.” He rolls his eyes, as you laugh.

———

After enjoying his morning off, Levi gets a private text from Erwin whilst he’s on his way to set: What was all the ruckus about on the cast group chat? I don’t quite understand what was so funny.

He sighs, tapping an answer back on his phone.

Ignorance is bliss, Erwin.

Please do not repost, modify or claim as your own work.

Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi fanfiction #levi fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #captain levi x y/n #idk why i'm so self conscious of tagging a;dksjfsdljk

435 notes · View notes

staycalmandhugaclone · 7 months

Text

I WANNA RANT ABOUT A REOCCURING THEME IN STAR WARS THAT NO ONE’S TALKED ABOUT (that I’ve seen)

I don’t know why this popped into my head, but I’ve been a little feral to do some good screaming about it: can we talk about the number of hugely influential character who’ve made a mistake and kept pursuing that path because they felt like it was too late to change??! Dooku, Anakin (just wait, I’ll get there), Crosshair, hell even Obi Wan.

Dooku’s example of this is painted clearly in the Tales of the Jedi episode when he learns about Qui-Gon. There’s clearly doubt, but by then his ‘son’ has been killed for the goal he’s fighting for and that sacrifice would be pointless if he doesn’t see it through. Anakin doesn’t truly reach this point until his transition to Vader, but there’s a moment beforehand (the “what have I done?”) line, that illustrates it, and then after finding out he “killed” Padme, he believes himself utterly unworthy of redemption, so he becomes a bit of a mindless slave fueled by rage and regret.

And Crosshair… listen, I will fight dirty on this hill. Sure, Crosshair probably gets his chip out after Bracca, but he’d just spent months trying to off his brothers and being forced to do things he never would have without the chip and not once did his brothers openly suspect something was wrong or doubt that he’d do those things, and, of course, we have to mention the moment when he saves Omega and everyone still keeps their guns trained on him at the end of season 1, as has been dissected time and again by countless others, which solidifies his fears of no longer having a place among them. So, he’s alone, unwanted by the only family he’s ever known, and wracked with guilt over the things he’s done. The only place he has left is the Empire because he’s already in too deep.

Obi Wan is more subtle, but his mistakes are with Anakin. He’s overlooked red flag after red flag, and even acknowledges this is some of the books, but he lets things slide time and time again because he’s made exceptions for him in the past. I think he begins subconsciously doubting his right to call Anakin out on those actions because of his own failings, and then everything spirals out of control too quickly for him to even try to fix it.

Hell, this mentality broke Wolffe in Rebels - despite not having his chip, he still clings to a distrust toward Jedi because, if he doesn't, he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he betrayed Plo, which, let's be real: not one of us is emotionally ready for.

The greatest and most painful failings of our beloved characters came about because they didn’t feel like they could, or should, be granted the chance to make things right, either because they couldn’t live with what they’d done so couldn’t consciously accept their actions as a mistake, or because they couldn’t forgive themselves so didn’t think they deserved to even ask anyone else for forgiveness.

With very, very few exceptions, it’s only too late to ask for help when you’re dead. Things may never be the same as before the mistake was made, but that’s still better than continuing to make it worse.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, scroll on next vid’ja

176 notes · View notes

maxwellatoms · 4 months

Note

Hey Maxwell, was wondering if you or your patreon will have more old and new artwork of yours. I really love you art style growing up (still do now) and wanted to see more concept art whether it be billy and mandy stuff, cancelled projects, or just dumb doodles or personal illustrations. Would you ever consider making an art book or showcase your sketchbook? Anyways, thanks for making my favorite show and keep on making weird horror stories 🤘🏾

I've never been the best with curating my own artwork. Or even taking basic care of it. I don't even want to tell you how many of those giant post-apocalyptic Dead Meat cars I built just ended up in a trash can. That's probably why I'm so cool giving (and selling) all of my old Billy & Mandy art to fans. A lot of the good stuff is in the hands of people all over the world now, which would make photographing it difficult to do. And apparently it was already too difficult to bother with when I actually had the stuff in my hands. Long story short, an art book seems less likely by the hour.

Actually, I do have some photos. And some art I haven't parted with yet. All of that stuff is likely to appear in "Billy & Mandy -vs- The Entertainment Industry", which is my post-B&M, animation apocalypse documentary. And that stuff will definitely be on the Patreon.

When I started the patreon, I was saying it'd be 50/50 "The Upward Expedition" and "B&M vs The Entertainment Industry". The former is a lot of work and the latter is a slow burn that won't really start shooting in earnest until February. Right now, it's a lot of The Upward Expedition development.

In relation to weird horror stories, there may be a Fun Experiment coming soon as well...

#maxwell atoms #patreon #stuff

94 notes · View notes

perseephoneee · 5 months

Text

christmas tree farm (elijah mikaelson x f!reader)

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 2 of ficmas!

prompt: you like drawing one of the workers at the local Christmas tree farm

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry but also this is my dream. like, yes, let me find elijah at a Christmas tree farm. i love him your honor.

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

There’s never a great reason to go to a Christmas tree farm every day, yet you did it without reason.

Well, one reason.

The Mikaelson Tree Farm was only four blocks from your apartment, and initially you went to help your friend, Bonnie, pick out a tree. It was the day after Thanksgiving, but she was excited since it was her first time getting a tree alone. She convinced you with a promised cup of hot cocoa, and you found yourself at the expansive farm. What made it better than others was that an arborist owned it, so they understood the novelty of trees better than anyone.

You had brought your sketchbook along as well. As the quarter was close to ending, you were working hard on your animation final. Not that you were an art major by any means, but you liked to draw as a hobby, and when an opportunity arose to take an art class, you did so happily. Now, though, you had to do a short animation for your final, which meant lots and lots of panels.

“Do you think this one is too dense?” Bonnie asked, taking careful steps around a Douglas Fir. You peered at it, continuing to shade out its leaves in your journal.

“Depends on how many ornaments you want to shove in there,” you mumbled, adding a few people to the background of your illustration.

“I’ve got a good amount that I inherited from Grams,” Bonnie sighed.

“Then you might want some more space.”

“You’re probably right,” Bonnie looked around, hands on her hips and breath fogging before her. “Plus, this would shed a lot.”

“You’d probably want a Nordmann then,” a smooth voice said from behind you. Both you and Bonnie turned to the source of the voice, and you felt yourself freeze up as you took in the handsome man behind you. He wore a red flannel with a cargo jacket, and you wondered how he wasn’t cold. “Sorry for bothering you. My family owns the farm; I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“So, you know things about trees,” you said, holding your notebook close to your chest.

“Yes…I know about trees,” he smiled.

“Like the Lorax,” you blurted out, feeling your eyes widen. You could almost hear the look of disappointment on Bonnie’s face. The man chuckled, though, albeit with little confusion.

“I’m Elijah,” he said, shaking Bonnie’s hand and yours.

“Nordmann, why would I want that?” Bonnie inquired, pivoting to your previous conversation.

“Nordmanns don’t shed,” Elijah explained. “They have a blue tone underneath their leaves and are also pretty.”

“Very nice,” Bonnie nudged you, and you sent her a look of approval. “Show me a Nordmann.”

Bonnie ended up choosing a six-foot-tall Nordmann that she affectionately named “Norman the Nordmann.” Elijah and one of his brothers cut the tree down for her and carried it back to her car. Frankly, the level of attraction you felt watching a man carrying a tree over his shoulder was embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You just said thank you in a meek voice and left with Bonnie to decorate her tree. Still, you couldn’t get Elijah out of your mind.

Plus, as you spent time working on your animation final, you realized that one of your characters started to look more and more like Elijah.

Which is how you kept ending up at the Christmas tree farm.

You couldn’t just show up and sit around waiting to see Elijah walk by. That would be incredibly humiliating for you. So, instead, after your third time going to the farm and lurking in the trees like a creeper, you decided to buy a wreath. The farm had a tiny little hut selling wreaths, ornaments, hot cocoa, and more. They even had a photo album full of pictures of their customers from over the years. One of the sisters always sat in the hut, reading a new book each day, and finally pointed out that you always came in but never bought anything, which is how you ended up with a beautiful wreath you hung up in your apartment. Feeling guilty, you came back the next day and bought another wreath. You always bought a wreath and free hot cocoa after you finished sketching the farm (and Elijah). You realized at some point you should probably buy a tree and move on from your infatuation, but that would involve confronting your wiles, which would simply be unacceptable.

Today was week three, thirteen wreaths later. You curled up in the corner of the farm with your journal, burrowing into your scarf to fight off the chill. You already had several panels drawn of the day in and day out of the farm, but now you were debating tearing yourself away and drawing Freya (your hot cocoa provider and sister who reads inside the wreath hut) through the acts of reading. Something blocked your light though, as you were drawing, and you looked up to see Elijah hovering over you. Your eyes widened.

“You have come in every day, you realize that?” he asked, hands in his pockets and a slight smirk on his lips. You likely looked like a deer in the headlights.

“I like trees,” you answered, immediately looking down at your hands as your brain screamed WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

“Like the Lorax?” Elijah smirked, and you felt your jaw drop as he recalled your first day.

“I can go,” you said, starting to get up, but Elijah put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. The heat from his hand spread throughout your arm like fire to a forest.

“You don’t have to leave,” he dropped his hand, fiddling with the cuffs of his flannel. “I just noticed that you have never gotten a tree.”

“I haven’t.”

“Do you want one?” He gestured towards the plethora of Christmas trees around you, and you started feeling like a mouse cornered by a cat. A very attractive cat.

“I could…get a tree,” you crossed your arms, hugging yourself. Putting your journal back in your bag, you gave Elijah your name and followed him deeper into the tree line. He showed you several different variants, explaining their pros and cons, but you stopped at a four-foot Noble that was more sparse on one side and slightly crooked. “I like him.”

Elijah looked at the tree you were pointing at and raised an eyebrow as if to ask seriously? You had a small smile as you circled your crooked, kind of terrible, tree. It was imperfect, and it’s why you liked it. Elijah sighed but agreed to give you the tree. He cut it down himself (it was small enough), and you checked out with Freya, who laughed at you finally buying a tree.

“Where’s your car?” Elijah asked, tree propped up against him.

“Oh, uh, I don’t have one,” you stammered. You realize you can’t get a tree home without a car. “I walked.”

“You walked,” Elijah said plainly. You were thinking that he probably thought you were an idiot.

“I live four blocks away.”

“Alright… let's go,” Elijah sighed, hoisting the tree over his shoulder.

“Uh, excuse me?” You held out your hands to stop him.

“To take your tree home.”

“I can take my own tree home, thank you very much.” Elijah stared at you with a blank expression. He would’ve made an excellent diplomat if he wasn’t busy cutting down trees. You stared right back, trying your best to assert dominance. His eyes stared into yours deeply, and finally you relented. “Fine, you can take my tree home,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated as a smile broke across his face.

“Lead the way,” he gestured. You stalk a guy for weeks, and now he’s coming to your apartment with a tree you didn’t intend to buy. You thought that Bonnie would’ve gotten a kick out of this. He follows you out of the lot and onto the street, keeping quiet as he carries the tree with no complaints. You wonder how much he could bench press if he lifted the tree like it was nothing. You got to your building, a little four-story brick apartment, and let him in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the plethora of wreaths lining the doors in the hall. “Are these all…?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “I’m the building manager, so I gave everyone a wreath.” Elijah still looked surprised but didn’t say anything else as he followed you to your apartment door tucked into the corner of the first floor. You wiggled your lock before slamming your shoulder into the door to open it. “It gets stuck sometimes,” you explained, opening the door further for Elijah to enter.

With Elijah peering around your place, you suddenly felt very self-conscious. It was a small place. The layout was straightforward. Your front door opened into your small kitchen, with the bathroom to the right. Your living room was just a couch, a TV you got from your aunt, and a coffee table. You didn’t have a dining room, just a tiny breakfast nook you haggled off Facebook Marketplace. Your bedroom was off the living room, just a bed and a desk. The thing that sold you on the apartment, though was the beautiful circular window behind the couch and the fact you got cheap rent in a city as long as you acted as building manager.

“Where would you like to put your tree?” Elijah inquired.

“I guess over here is fine,” you walked over to the space between the wall and your couch, currently inhabited by your basket of yarn that you use for knit projects.

“Do you have a tree stand?” He put the tree down against the wall. You kept your mouth shut as you watched realization flash across his face. “You bought a tree without a tree stand?”

“I didn’t intend to buy a tree,” you defend yourself. Elijah lets out a small sigh of exasperation, fidgeting with the tree so it can lean on its own.

“I’ll be right back,” Elijah exits before you can say anything. You glare at the tree, internally blaming it for your current predicament. Keeping busy, you started a pot of coffee in your kitchen while you hunted around for something to decorate the tree with. You came back with a basket of crochet stars and some twine. Maybe you could make a garland and then harass Bonnie for some twinkle lights. You know she had them; she covered her entire place in them like it was Tinkerbell’s house. As you were stringing stars onto your twine, you heard a knock on your door before Elijah entered, box in hand. “Alright, I got you a tree stand, and Freya sent me with ornaments.”

“She’s a good egg,” you smiled, helping him with the box as he started fitting the tree into the stand.

“That she is,” he laughed, sending you a grin that made your stomach perform cartwheels. You laid out the ornaments Freya sent on your counter, smiling at the cute little animals. She even sent along a glitter-covered mushroom. Your coffee machine dinged, and you moved to pour yourself a cup.

“Do you want coffee? I got vanilla syrup,” you offered, holding up a reindeer mug.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Elijah smiled. You made him a small latte, as you enjoyed any chance to perfect your latte art. You went to a Korean cafe once and watched them craft a bear, and since then have forced yourself to learn how to do the same. You added a little heart, and handed the latte to Elijah who looked at it fondly. “You’re very creative.” He looked at the star garland you had discarded from earlier. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah…it’s the only decor I have,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee and enjoying the warmth seeping into your bones. Elijah picked up the garland and started wrapping it around the tree, making sure each branch was evenly spaced and that the stars were visible.

“Do all customers get you decorating their tree?” you asked, the corner of your mouth lifting up in a smile.

“Just the ones I like,” Elijah responded, his back still towards you. You felt your cheeks flush at his comment. He was likely just flattering you. He stepped away from the tree when he was done, and your eyes lit up as you took in his careful work.

“Well, thank you,” you coughed, putting your coffee down on the counter and shuffling on your feet. You expected Elijah to make a move to leave, but he stayed there, staring at you with thoughtful eyes. He really had very kind eyes, the type you felt at ease under.

“Can I ask you a question?” Elijah’s brows furrowed, his fingers dancing over the buttons of his cuffs as he looked at you inquisitively. You nodded to let him continue. “Why did you come to the farm everyday?”

“Honestly?” you laughed, glancing away. “I liked to draw you.”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah…it’s silly, isn’t it?” you rubbed the back of your neck, your arms wrapping around to curl more into yourself.

“May I see?”

“See what?”

“The drawings,” Elijah dared a step closer to you. He smelled like the trees he cultivated, rich and earthy. You felt that if someone were to be personified as a rainy forest, he would be that person. You walked over to your bag, nervously pulling out your sketchbook and handing it to him. His fingers brushed yours, but you quickly pulled away. You hated people looking at your work, so you kept yourself busy by cleaning up the kitchen. You could hear the flipping of the pages, and with each turn the coil in your stomach grew tighter. You were so nervous, you felt like you could break at any moment. What if he hated the drawings? You could never recover. When you heard the thud of the book closing, you dared turning towards Elijah and felt your heart clench as you met his gaze.

“My brother would hate you,” Elijah said, putting your sketchbook carefully on the kitchen counter. “You’re a much better artist than him.”

“Oh,” you responded, some pressure alleviating in your chest.

“You captured me very kindly,” Elijah smiled, stepping around the kitchen island to get closer to you. You instinctively took a step back.

“I see you very kindly,” you whispered, your voice soft on his ears. “It was for a class animation, I…hope I didn’t offend you.”

“You couldn’t offend me,” Elijah reassured. “You make me feel appreciated.”

“Are you not?”

“A family as large as mine,” Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s easy to lose sight of things.”

“Well, I see you…if that matters,” you said. Your heart was running a race with how fast it was beating. Elijah grabbed your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles like you were a precious artifact.

“Y/N,” Elijah started, biting his lip in thought. “I’m glad that you kept coming back.” You noticed that his fingers were calloused and rough, likely from all the work of the farm. “I would like to take you out, if that’s alright.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “I would like that a lot.” Elijah tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before glancing back at your sketchbook.

“May I see the animation, when its done?”

“Of course.”

“Can I give you something?” Elijah questioned, turning back to look at you. You nodded slowly, unsure of what he was thinking. Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. His hands came up to cup your head, his fingers brushing through the strands of your hair. He was gentle, but firm, and you found yourself tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Kissing him felt like first snowfall, or when you learned you had a day off from school. He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and the top of your head.

“That was a good gift,” you whispered, enjoying the deep chuckle that emanated from Elijah. “Does this mean I can stop buying Christmas wreaths?” That earned an even bigger laugh.

“You really are an enigma,” Elijah smiled, kissing you again on your lips.

Oh yes, you guess there is a very good reason to go to a Christmas Tree Farm every day

#ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagines #the vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #the originals #my writing

117 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 4 months

Note

Supposedly, people with Anphantasia don't get scared reading scary stories, or at least not much. Is that true with you if you ever read Horror?

You know, I'd never thought about it, but I suppose it is. To an extent, anyway.

Follows a discussion of my relationship to horror prose and media; if you don't know what aphantasia is, as many people coming to this tumblr don't, I have a tag for it here that may help -- it's basically the lack of a "mind's eye", a visual imagination, so I hear/read things and don't see an image of them in my mind. If you are scoffing right now that nobody actually has a mind's eye, congratulations, you may also have aphantasia. The articles linked in the tag will be useful to you.

I have definitely been scared by prose before but it's very rare, and not much since I was a child, when the stories I found scary were preying on fears I already had. I loved the Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark books, and I think it's not unusual that I found the illustrations more frightening than the prose, but the only story that ever scared me was the one about the vampire who kept trying to grab a kid through a window -- because I had a window over my bed in my childhood bedroom and I was terrified I'd look up to see someone looking down at me through it. Likewise, as an adult, the only content in horror I find scary is what I think of as "mind horror" -- the loss of faculty or the loss of awareness of faculty (think the end scene of the novel Hannibal with the brain). Which is one of my biggest fears.

I don't read much horror because generally I get bored, which has in the past made me feel faintly appalled at myself, but which now makes more sense. Certainly I have no interest in slasher-style gore in prose, because I find it uninteresting and it goes on a really long time, while I don't watch it in movies/TV because the visual is upsetting -- so if I was getting the visual from the prose I might react more emotionally. I am a fan of Stephen King but mostly his early work where he was shorter on suspense, and I was reading it because I liked the ideas and the characters. Carrie is super interesting because of the personalities involved, not because of the violence or the horror aspects. But I've never seen a movie adaptation and I can imagine I would be deeply unsettled if not distraught by certain scenes if depicted visually. Although I didn't find the Hannibal TV series super upsetting (I mostly was put off by how bad I imagined Will smelled) so perhaps body horror just doesn't do it for me.

This may also explain my hard-no on zombie media, because I'm not scared at all of zombies, I just find them boring and gross, and that leaves the post-apocalyptic humans. My hard-no on post-apocalypse anything is an aversion to imagining the end of my world, though, which isn't visual, it's conceptual, and not scary, just upsetting.

Like, people kept suggesting Zombies Run! to me when I was taking up running and -- well, one, I needed the music to keep my pace, I didn't want it interrupted. But two, I didn't see why a bunch of random groaning noises would make me run faster. If you could see zombies chasing you in your head, yeah, that'd probably be more motivating.

It kind of explains too why I haven't written much horror. I used to be very curious about how people worked out what's "scary" in horror prose and I guess part of the curiosity came from not experiencing it myself. It's tough to know how to write a scary story when stories don't scare you.

To be clear, I definitely experience fear. Reading Stephen King's "It" didn't really scare me, but there were scary moments in the film adaptations. I startle at jumpscares. There's plenty of stuff in real life that I'm scared of. And even podcasts -- I don't get mental images during podcasts like apparently most people do, but Magnus Archives got me with the "digging into your pre-existing fears" thing once or twice, and while I didn't finish The Left Right Game (I just got bored) the hitchhiker scene definitely got me. But I think, unless it's playing on something conceptual that already existed, yeah, I don't find prose particularly frightening.

Huh. This feels like the kind of thing that could have a significant impact on my creative output if I could crowbar my way into it. Knowing that I as an aphantic don't need descriptions that other people do has already, I think, impacted my editing process, but this feels like it maybe would somehow have an effect on the whole thing -- the fact that I don't experience emotions when reading in the same way other people do because I don't get the visuals is something to meditate on.

How the fuck did I ever even become a writer. Like what's up with that.

(Ironically it was X-Files fanfic. X-Files, a show that very much did scare me, for which I wrote and read a lot of fanfic, none of which did...yikes. Well, that's something to meditate on for the weekend.)

#sam has adhd #an aphantasia fantasia

86 notes · View notes

thefreakandthehair · 6 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 16th: Library | Eyes on Fire - Blue Foundation | Curious a/n: little Eddie & Wayne, ADHD!Eddie, pre-canon Eddie & Jonathan friendship. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | ao3 masterpost here

All his life, all seven years of it so far, Eddie has been told to be quiet, to sit still, and to not touch things. He can’t help it most of the time– there are so many things to explore, and learn, and find, so many different textures to feel. Eddie learns best when he’s able to physically hold something in hands to help him focus and it’s gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.

But living with Wayne, at least for the summer, he’s been given more opportunities than ever before to lean into his curious nature without being scolded. They’ve gone to museums, petting zoos, science centers, even the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Each new experience is a novelty and Eddie’s loved every single one of them. Today though, Eddie’s nervous.

“You almost ready, kid?” Wayne pokes his head into Eddie’s bedroom, warm smile and a cocked eyebrow. Eddie’s been taking his time, untying and retying his shoelaces over and over to stall.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, I’m ready.” Eddie offers a tight smile, one that feels faux even to him.

“Do you not wanna go? We can try something else if the library isn’t your thing.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I wanna go! It’s just…”

Wayne enters the room fully, sitting down on the bed next to Eddie who fidgets with his fingers and looks down at the floor, his feet swaying back and forth over the edge of the bed.

“Just what?” He doesn’t touch him, but Wayne’s presence alone is comforting enough.

“What if I get in trouble? Aren’t you supposed to be super quiet and stuff in libraries?”

Eddie knows Wayne well enough by now to know that he’d never get in trouble that way that he has with his dad, but he doesn’t want to disappoint or embarrass Wayne, either.

“Well, yeah, on the grown up floor for the cranky old guys like me,” Wayne bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s, and Eddie can’t help but smile– real this time. “But there’s a whole children’s room that has games, lots of books, fun stuff. And if it feels like too much, you just give me our little signal and we’re outta there.”

When Eddie first started going places with Wayne, they’d developed their secret signal that probably wasn't too secret but worked just the same– Eddie would stand next to Wayne and step on his foot. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough that Wayne would notice, look down, and see Eddie’s overwhelm. And like promised, they’re outta there. No questions asked.

“Okay, I think I’m ready then.” Eddie stands up and heads toward the front of the trailer. “Let’s go.”

They’re at the library for all of a few minutes, Eddie hesitant to leave Wayne’s side as they scour the fantasy books, when he meets another kid around his age, maybe a little younger. Both boys go to reach for the same illustrated copy of a book about dragons.

“Oh, sorry, you can take it,” Eddie offers, moving his hand instinctually.

“No, no it’s okay, you were looking at it first. Go ahead.” The other boy responds, shrugging and looking back at the shelf.

There’s a woman behind him, smiling down fondly as she speaks. “Sweetie, why don’t you share with your new friend?”

“Yeah, if you wanna share, we could. Only if you want to though.” Eddie bounces on his heels, hopeful. He doesn’t get to make a lot of friends when he’s home with his parents.

“Okay, yeah,” the little boy smiles carefully and pulls the book from the shelf.

Eddie follows him to a small table at the end of the aisle and they pour over the pages, full of colorful illustrations and short stories. Eddie loses track of time, but he and his new friend, who he learns is named Jonathan, are just kids who don’t need to watch the clock.

They finish the book and return for another, and then another. Eddie's disappointed when the day ends and they have to leave, but he sees Wayne trade contact information with Jonathan's mom, Joyce.

"We'll see you again next week, Eddie. It was so nice to meet you." Joyce smiles, sweet and comforting, and Eddie isn't so afraid of the library anymore.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #jonathan byers #joyce byers #wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts #don't mind me just projecting a little onto eddie [fake surprise from the audience]

112 notes · View notes

direct0rhutao · 1 year

Text

hello everyone welcome back to my youtube channel my tumblr blog and today we’re going to be roasting the interior design choices of enstars idols. bc i was looking at the starmony dorm cgs on the wiki for certain reasons and the closer i looked at them the more i was like. why do they look like that.

tldr the starmony dorm rooms are interior design nightmares

mika ritsu dorm: actually this is one of the most decent dorms in terms of aethestics and how well they match the people in the room. mika has plushies on his nightstand! so cute!! ritsu has a goth looking bed with a thing at the end that my common sense says is probably a pillow but my eyes say is a very small coffin! huh!

wataru sora subaru madara dorm: why would you put a cactus right next to the foot of a bed that is an accident waiting to happen. whose bed even is that. idk whose bed is whose in this room

himeru arashi tetora dorm: sorry but arashi’s and tetora’s beds being next to each other is so funny. i like the flower vase and i think the frames arashi put up are cute. i think tetora’s gym equipment smells very strongly of sweat and i think arashi’s solution to this would be to constantly spray perfume at the room. every day himeru wakes up and is assaulted by Odors

mayoi tomoya dorm: what is that one bar above mayoi’s bed for. but other than that mayoi has pretty good taste his bed looks cool. tomoya’s bed is way more “normal” but still looks nicer that some of the other beds we’ll see later

tatsumi koga dorm: why is there a motorcycle in the frame on the wall. what is that ornament on the other wall and why does it look like a sun. why does this room look like the kind of fake model “bedroom” you find in a furniture store

jun kohaku dorm: this room probably also smells like sweat but unfortunately i don’t think kohaku has that much perfume or room spray on hand. also i think one of these days jun’s post-workout selfie mirror will fall over and break and jun will cry

yuzuru tori dorm: what are the round things on the walls next to tori’s bed. are they nightlights. does tori still need nightlights. why doesn’t tori get himself the cutesy nightlights that are shaped like stars and clouds and stuff instead of those things that make the walls look like they have pimples

kaoru nagisa yuta dorm: i think yuta’s bed is the blue one bc it looks a bit like hinata’s but the other two beds look like something you’d find in a 3 star hotel. no personality whatsoever. what’s with the abstract splotch art on the wall. nagisa is part of one of the Big Three units of ES so he should be paid well he can definitely afford some nicer decorations like a large chart illustrating the differences between igneous sedimentary and metamorphic rocks or smth. i do feel like nagisa chose the beanbags that look like rocks tho.. theyre the only saving grace of this room so good job nagisa

keito hajime hokuto dorm: we still don’t know what this one looks like at all.. i think keito’s bed is Boring, hajime’s bed has cute bedsheets in calming pastel colors, and hokuto’s bed has matching bedsheets and pillows in tasteful shades of blue. the rest of trickstar helped pick these bc hokuto’s parents sent him a matching set of bedding with HIDAKA HOKUTO embroidered in gold thread on everything as a “moving-out gift” and hokuto was mortified and shoved them under his bed never again to see the light of day

ibara tsumugi midori mitsuru dorm: midori’s and mitsuru’s beds are cute. i love midori’s vegetable plushies and mitsuru’s bread pillows. ibara and tsumugi’s beds look miserable and devoid of personality, perhaps representing their owners’ mental anguish and despair. and since they have no other large pieces of furniture aside from the beds this room also looks a bit like a showroom in a mattress store

makoto adonis chiaki dorm: i’m guessing chiaki’s bed is the one with bright posters above it, makoto’s bed is the one with the post its and other posters above it, and adonis’s bed is the one with the snuggly blanket with the lovely pattern. they also have a nice long couch, a tv, and a rug with some bean bags. overall it’s a very nice room! my only major complaint is that i refuse to believe that chiaki uses a plain gray blanket and not the same power ranger bedsheets he’s had since he was 10 years old

hinata hiiro niki dorm: hinata’s bed has the blue blanket and hanging plants right? i assume hiiro’s bed has the pillows with blue and orange stripes just because it reminds me of the colors on his jacket. i refuse to believe that niki’s bed is that neat i know he has a secret stash of snacks next to his desk or under the bed or something. i think after crazyB has paid off all their debts and are no longer seriously struggling financially and niki is able to save some of his paycheck i think he’d buy a minifridge and put it next to his bed

rei eichi aira dorm: everyone always talks about rei and eichi’s petty divorce curtain but nobody mentions how aira’s bed looks like it’s made out of cardboard

leo natsume nazuna dorm: why is leo’s the only visibly messy bed we’ve seen. why are nazuna’s and natsume’s beds so average. i can see nazuna as the kind to go for a simple blanket with stripes but you cannot tell me that natsume does not have the most headache-inducing blankets and pillows known to mankind. natsume has 3 pillows each with a different pattern and combination of complimentary colors on them and 2 blankets one of which he found in one of the secret passageways in yumenosaki and one of which has a bunch of constellations printed on it and all of it clashes horribly

kuro mao izumi shu dorm: oh this is one of the worst rooms in general. let’s start with the beds. all four of them look like they have the exact same bedframe. how come mika gets a fancy victorian bedframe and shu doesn’t. is all of shu’s special fancy furniture in france. i genuinely can’t tell whose bed is whose. is mao’s bed the black one on the far left or the red and gray one on the far right (bc ritsu was involved in choosing the bedsheets). why doesn’t kuro have any gym equipment next to his bed like tetora and jun. do you think kuro used to have some gym equipment in the dorm but shu and izumi complained too much about the sweaty smell so he had to leave it at his family’s house. what’s with the four-part abstract art piece. who put that there. did izumi put that there because i cannot imagine shu putting that up there. i do not think shu likes that sort of modern art he probably says it’s meaningless or derivative or smth. he’d probably prefer a high-quality print of a reinassance painting or framed pictures actually scratch that last one because if the kuro mao izumi shu dorm was allowed to hang personal photos on the walls izumi might put up some pictures of the rest of knights and then every night shu would have to go to sleep haunted by the vaguely threatening (to him) smile of Narukami Arashi

rinne kanata hiyori dorm: obv kanata’s bed is the one with the aquarium next to it, which means rinne’s and hiyori’s beds are probably the ones with the slightly different zigzag stripe patterns and honestly i’m disappointed. you mean to tell me amagi rinne doesn’t have insufferably gaudy bright red bedsheets? he doesn’t have a blanket with cartoon bees on it that he bought as a joke when he went to the supermarket with the rest of crazyB? he doesn’t have a stack of coupons and discount vouchers and half-finished loyalty cards and a bunch of misshapen plushies that he got out of a claw machine while trying to get the hamburger plushie for niki as an anniversary gift? and hiyori. eichi’s bed probably came straight from his family’s mansion and looks like it came from a 5 star hotel and hiyori just has. that?? i refuse to belive that hiyori would allow himself to be one-upped by tenshouin eichi in this manner. hiyori has a humongous fluffy princess bed with hearts and flourishes carved into the bedframe and a whole ass canopy with fairy lights that took jun four hours to assemble and you cannot convince me otherwise

tsukasa souma shinobu dorm: where is tsukasa’s trading card collection. where is souma’s sword rack. where are shinobu’s lego ninjago bedsheets

#aurelia tag #enstars #ensemble stars #ensemble stars textpost #also why do so many of the dorms have so many houseplants in them. with all due respect #some of these people can barely even keep themselves alive let alone a potted plant

304 notes · View notes

swallowerofdharma · 25 days

Text

Yashiro’s Cruel God part three

Back to the premise of this series of meta, we have opposite concepts, older/younger and realist/romantic at the far ends of a spectrum. We have two characters that are dynamic and we want to move them on this spectrum. Because at the end of the day, this is a love story, and that means something: it is quite uninteresting to me personally determining who is better, it is more important seeing where they meet each other and balance each other. I have removed from my opposite concepts good/bad intentionally. But I will use terms like positive and negative connotations in connection with the characters’ goal of smoothing the differences, adapting to the other, changing because love pushed towards a balance. Positives and negatives are part of those concepts equally. Disclaimer as usual for all the adult content that Saezuru shows, I will talk about Doumeki’s first time in straightforward terms.

Doumeki

When I think of Doumeki in terms of a character in manga, several things come to mind. One that intrigues me most: he is someone who attacked his father, he didn’t kill him, or eat him… hello Eren, but he definitely had to violently confront his father’s sins. This is something that is never quite treated neutrally in literature, if you think about it. To us, Doumeki saved his sister, and his father deserved punishment anyway, so nothing wrong if Doumeki beat him severely. If we believe Inami, he almost killed the man, or the sentence Doumeki received, it was aggravated assault, - even if anyone would have justified his actions - he is sentenced and put away. From my understanding he chose to protect his sister privacy, but attenuating circumstances were probably considered. But how we feel about it doesn’t quite matter in the story. How Doumeki feels certainly matters more. To continue using as examples the Declarations of a healthy adult, like we saw with Yashiro, Doumeki at the beginning of the manga isn’t a child by any means. He had to confront quite abruptly reality, too.

Like with Yashiro, it is useful to consider these two statements: I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me; One by one, I drop every expectation of people and things. Doumeki was already a young adult, when he came to that violent confrontation with his father. He never had to question him, and I think that him becoming a policeman, following the same career path as his father, clearly shows that Doumeki was following his example, thinking it was a good one, trusting his father’s judgment and beliefs. I think we can safely say that what he discovered about his father and role model was monumental and shattering, that reality itself shifted for Doumeki in that moment. But breaking the proverbial egg came undoubtably later in life for him, at a point when Doumeki had the possibility to face a painful reality. There is something else very intriguing for me about how he told the story to Yashiro. He admitted that his sister changed when they were both much younger, but that he didn’t pay attention and avoided her. Little digression here, but I want to give an example to illustrate why I would interpret this detail a certain way. In my early twenties, I was on a trip with a group of friends in Spain and we decided to go see the Covetes dels Moros de Bocairent in the mountains near Valencia. Upon entering the first hole, I realized something very relevant to me. Since I was a small child I had to deal with quite severe arachnophobia and there was definitely a high chance that, if I went exploring the caves as I was setting to do, I would find myself in immediate proximity of spiders. I asked the local guide and he made a face like he had to deal with arachnophobes before and confirmed the possibility. The thing is, I really was eager for an adventure. And traveling was my favorite thing to do, more than that, exploring every nook and cranny of the places I went to was like a mission to me. So I made my decision and went in. I paid special attention to the movements I had to make, to the ropes, to the smooth surface of the rocks I put my hands on, to how the light came through and to the next hole and the next and I came out of those caves excited like everyone else. Later that night, already back to camp with my friends, I asked them if they saw any spiders. All of them had and they kept it quiet for my sake. I had the suspicion that was the case all along, but our mind is a powerful tool. I didn’t want to see spiders and I didn’t see them for real, because I wasn’t looking for spiders. Science tells you things like that about our minds, but to put it to the test and actually experience it really gives you a sense of full understanding. So going back to Doumeki’s story, it is very possible for me that he knew that something not right was happening, but he protected himself from having to confront a reality about his father hard enough for him to not be ready, so he redirected his feelings of discomfort toward Aoi’s feelings for him and gave himself permission to ignore her. I am not trying to put Doumeki under scrutiny or to blame him, I want to understand how he might have felt. I think it was a very normal thing for a teenager to do, but I also consider how Doumeki had the freedom to escape from reality to a degree that Yashiro certainly had not. And it makes all the difference in how they approach the world they live in and how they tend to be more-or-less realistic about their situation - and how at the core of the conflict in the story is their struggle to find a middle ground between conviction and objectivity, between the factors of belief or commitment and the factors of reason or knowledge. And why they inevitably go back and forth and not always act coherently, because they have hope and doubts respectively.

It is not possible for someone like me to have a normal romantic relationship. I didn’t want you to touch that side of me.

I intend to stay beside you.

Another aspect of Doumeki I find interesting in terms of a character in manga is how he seems to be someone who - as a teenager - was going with the flow, having no particular passion or goal or a personality that made him stand out. It stands to reason that he would follow his father’s choice for a career path, or that he wouldn’t even question his school nurse in middle school. I want to be careful here with my wording, because once again I am taking a step back from making judgments from a moral standpoint. I don’t believe that that type of situation and that breach of boundaries wouldn’t leave a wound on a young boy. What interests me here is how Doumeki recounts his experience: I was in a trance and I can’t really recall. Which is another example of how our mind protects us from what it could be too armful to us to process. Yoneda breaks the scene and doesn’t fully elaborate but we clearly understand what happened there. Doumeki wasn’t old enough to consent in any capacity and he didn’t question the nurse nor he told others. But he was old enough to know about sexuality and to make sense of what has happened and rationalize it as “my first time”. Furthermore, there wasn’t a queer element to it, the nurse being a woman fitted with what social representation of sexuality paints as normal. I’m pointing these things out to underline why Doumeki was able to preserve his self image in a way that just wasn’t possible for Yashiro. To properly explain why the moment that really shattered Doumeki’s sense of reality was finding his father on top of Aoi. The fact that he was a young adult makes it more bearable, so - if he now stands on shaky ground - his foundation makes him able to bear a certain load with strength of character and resilience. When Yashiro asked him to be careful, not to break him, he really meant it. Yashiro is in part very self aware and in part has to instinctively try to protect himself. Yashiro’s foundation is a bunch of lies that his father gave him and he knows that much. Hence his foundation is very fragile and when he is on shaky ground it’s hard for him to be strong and resilient. The queer element in Yashiro’s case is very much present, because ten years old Yashiro was told that he had to be a girl in the wrong body, because otherwise how could his father would want to have sex with him, or how could Yashiro could have an orgasm from it, giving what social representation of sexuality paints as normal? See how harmful that can be? Yashiro at least didn’t fully adopt that one of his father lies/rules, didn’t commit to it for what we see in the story. But the idea of being born wrong, of being a pervert, that it would have been easier for him to be a woman lingers. Especially when he realized that he had fallen in love with a boy, making his attraction towards both boys and girls a reality and his own: no longer a lie/rule his father put on him. That is in part why he cried so much upon realizing it it wasn’t just because he was unrequited and why he is still unable to consider same sex relationships a part of the normalcy and he is much more conflicted about it than Doumeki, who simply accepted that new discovery about himself. The last scene of the latest chapter packed quite a punch.

I have been very cautious about terminology and confronting the issue of sexuality and identity for several reasons. Mostly because I think it is such a delicate theme that Yoneda-sensei handles very sensibly imo. I think that once again I have to continue with this analysis at a later date. I realize that as usual I couldn’t make my point efficiently and briefly. To be continued then…

Buying an umbrella for someone and covering them from the rain is a particularly significant image in Saezuru. I really love how these two characters, Yashiro and Aoi, interact in the story and what that means for Doumeki on a deep unconscious level.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #saezuru analysis #doumeki chikara #yashiro #yashiro x doumeki #eri reads saezuru

29 notes · View notes

hyperfreaksating · 6 months

Text

NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN - 8/9

Heyaaaa fellow buggy simps ! I wish y'all a wonderful day !

Here it is ! The penultimate part of Nerver leave me again ! I just came back from my vacations and I felt the urge of writting Buggy things, sooooo here we are (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Author Note : this was my favorite part to write I have to say ! I hope you'll enjoy it. As usual english is not my native language, just started the anime, didn't read the manga, not trying my best to write something good, just making myself a little gift as an author

Content : Buggy x FemReader + kids, no use of Y/n, no physical description except for hair color. Alcohol, sadness, angst, a bit of yelling & screaming buuuuut also a lot of fluff & cheezy at the end, trust the ride darlings (~˘▾˘)~

[ FANFICTION MASTERPOST ]

Take a DEPRESSED BUGGY ILLUSTRATION & let's go !

If you missed the ship I'm on

You will know that I am gone

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

Never leave me again - 8/9

Buggy was deathly hangover.

He was lying on his desk, drooling, his captain's hat falling on his face, an empty rum bottle in the hand. He couldn't remember having his mind clear for once in the last two months.

Two months. It's been two months since you disappeared. Two months without seeing his kids. Two months sleeping - more like trying to fall asleep between two panic attacks - without you by his side.

Ah, fucking Reddie, you did the things right this time didn't you ? You left a note on your pillow, a looooong letter explaining in detail why you decided to leave him, to take the kids away from him for their safety - at least the time of Skye's recovery, but that you were not sure to come back one day. Every word you wrote felt like another knife in his heart.

He never felt this much like a shit - and oh god, he often felt like a shit in his life. He was trying really hard to be mad at you, because you abandoned him again and took his babies away from him, but the fact was that he was mostly mad about himself. How fucking stupid he was. When he saw Skye crying and screaming on the floor, something broke in him. At the moment, he couldn't do anything but freeze and fly away from his responsabilities. Now, he would trade anything, his boat, his crew, his treasures, chasing the one piece, to come back in time and tell you that no, this kind of accident would never happen again, clown's honor. Fucking stupid pride. Fucking stupid ego. Fucking stupid broken mind.

A vivid pain came over his head when he heard knocks on the door. He stood up a little. This was probably Cabaji, coming back from his daily patrol to look for you and the triplets. He has been sending his crew to your research every day and night since you left, but hasn't received any results yet.

"Enter, enter" he grumbled, massaging his painful tempers.

Cabaji entered the room and nodded at him with respect. Buggy smirked when he saw what looked like concern in the eyes of his chief of staff. At least someone on this boat still gave a shit about him. He raised an eyebrow to him, a silent question on the face.

"Captain… we found them." Cabaji said.

Hearing these words, Buggy felt his heart exploding with hope. A manic grin grew on his face, from one ear to the other.

And without even realizing it, he started to laugh, for the first time in two months.

Life could have been better, life could have been worse.

Makino was really nice to you, the village was peaceful and Skye's arm was almost totally healed. You missed Buggy's presence every day and the triplets seemed to mourn life on the ship, but deep inside you knew you took the right decision. At least for a short time.

Two months ago, you were such a mess. You called Nami and asked if the strawhats could come to the island you were on as soon as possible to take you away. She accepted without any questions.

You ran away in the night, when triplets were too tired to be noisy. You took a moment to write a letter to Buggy. You were aware of the severe impact your choice would have on him and you wanted to minimize the harm the best you could.

Nami, Luffy and Zoro came in a small boat to take you away. Their jaws fell on the ground in front of you when they saw you, tired and messy with three kids with either red noses or blue hair - letting no doubt about their father's identity.

"Do I really need to explain?" You grumbled, and they silently took you aboard.

Skye, Rory and Blaze quickly felt asleep in the small cabin's hamac, and you started explaining everything to your old friends : how Buggy was a good father - you chose to ignore their puzzled expression as you said so - but how irresponsible he could be, how much you were scared for your kids safety after Skye's accident and how you needed a place to rest, at least the time of her recovery. Nami never stopped rubbing your back while you were crying.

"You did well calling me, Reddie." she said with a soft tone, "I'm so sorry. We will find a place for the four of you to stay."

She took a moment to think before pursuing.

"I could take you back to my sister's location, at Cocoyasi? You know her and now the village is free from Arlong it's a pretty good place to live."

You shaked your head nervously, and answer sobbing:

"N… no.. it's where Buggy and I started to flirt, I … he would know "

Zoro and Luffy raised an eyebrow to each other. Apparently they didn't notice your love story with the genius jester started there.

"Luffy …" you finally asked, looking at your former captain "you always talk about your birth village in positive terms… do you… do you think I could stay somewhere there with the kids?"

Luffy's eyes opened wide, and he sent you one of these big, warm smiles only him holds the secret off.

Road to Fuschia village was quite a long way, you had to spend two or three days on the sea. You were surprised to see how easily the triplets get along with your former crew. On the second day of your trip, they spent the entire afternoon playing with Luffy's gum gum abilities on the desk.

"They are adorable, Red'. I'm sure everyone gonna love them at Fuschia." Nami said as you were both watching Rory and Blaze running in opposite directions, each one holding one of Luffy's cheeks - Luffy laughing as hell all along.After playing a bit with her brothers Skye ran to you, asking for your arms, and you took her close to your chest, tenderly caressing her hairs. It would be clear for everyone who ever saw his wanted poster that Buggy was their father, and you were scared that people would somehow reject them because of this. Or that they would reject the twins because of their red noses, too. "I hope you're right, Nami" you answered softly.

Luffy introduced you to Makino, the village bartender, and you agreed to assist her at the bar in return for two beds for you and your children. She stared a little bit too long at the twins noses but didn't say anything, and you were thankful to her for this. Your old friends spent the night at the island to grab some forces and eat a bit before going back to their own journey. Spending time with them again was great.

The next morning you came to the beach to say goodbye with your three little rug rats.

"Thank you. For everything." You whispered to Nami, holding her in your arms.

"It's ok Reddie. I hope you'll find some peace of mind here."

Next to you, Blaze and Rory were jumping on Luffy's back, and Skye was looking at Zoro with sparkle in the eyes.

"Promise ? Next time you'll show me how to use a saber ?"

She asked. Zoro looked at her with a little smile.

"Of course, if you're tall enough to handle it." He answered, playfully rubbing her head.

You gathered the triplets around you.

"Come on kids it's time to say good bye ."

You whispered. You nodded at Luffy with gratitude, before looking at your former crew going back on their ship. You stared at their boat until it disappeared into the horizon. Now, it was only you, all alone with three kids who inherited their father's temperament.

All of this leaded you here, two months later, cleaning the bar all alone while triplets were sleeping upstairs.

It was a warm and peaceful evening. You took the night shift after putting the kids in bed. Becoming kind of a single mom made those little alone moments precious to you.

You were whipping the counter when loud stomps came from the outside. You raised your head and froze in panic.

Buggy, Cabaji and Mohji just entered the bar with brutal gestures.

You were so beautiful, and it made him so mad.

When Buggy saw you here, froze behind the bar, a wave of contradictory feelings hit his heart. In a first time, love , hope and relief. You were alive, you were doing well. And you were so pretty with your messy red hair around your head and he was so happy to see you again that he could feel himself falling in love with you for the second time. But quickly, all his anger, sadness, and grudge came back to him. You left him again. You betrayed him. You took his precious kids away. And shit, you chose this village to hide. Shanks village. Tooth grinding, he walked to the bar furiously, Cabaji and Mohji on his steps . For now he just wanted to see his kids.

"Where are they ?" He asked, looking you in the eyes, with a rough tone.

You looked nervously to Cabaji and Mohji before answering.

"Bugs I …"

He lost his nerves and walked closer menacingly, screaming at you.

"DON'T "BUGS" ME. YOU PROMISED TO NEVER DO THIS AGAIN. BUT WORST. YOU HAD NO RIGHT. NO RIGHT TO TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME."

He noticed a hint of guilt in your eyes, and he had to admit that it was satisfying.

"Please Buggy" you answered with a small voice, "let the crew go and I'll take you to them, trust me…

- Trusting you?" He sneered, "Why would I do something so stupid ?"

However he snapped and Cabaji and Mohji went away. You whipped your forehead with the back of your head with a sigh of relief. He looked at you, arms crossed. He couldn't help but love you. He couldn't help but be mad at you.

"Bugs I…, you started.

- Shut up, take me to the kids.

- No please I…

- I SAID SHUT. UP."

He screamed violently, hitting the counter. He immediately regretted it. This kind of impulse was what costed him his family. He let himself fall on one of the bar's chairs and put his head in his hands. He looked at you, desperate, almost begging.

"Why, Reddie ? Why did you leave again? Why did you take the kids ?"

Without him realizing it, the anger in his voice morphed into sadness and despair.

" In you I finally found someone I thought I could trust buy it's the THIRD time you leave me. I thought you loved me. I thought everything we shared meant something."

He swallowed in anguish before pursuing.

"I… I know I fucking messed up with Skye but I thought you… I thought we could… Damn Reddie you can't… just tell me why. What's so wrong with me that you can't stay by my side?"

Saying these last words he bursted into tears. You looked at him with a soft smile, full of compassion. Answering, you started to fill two glasses with beer.

"Buggy… it's not you." You put one the glasses on the counter in front of him, and he nodded thankfully before taking a sip. "Leaving you… it was the hardest thing I ever did in my life. I loved you, with all my heart Bugs. And I still love you. And every second without you is like missing a bit of my own heart.

- But… ?"

He raised a sad eyebrow to you, waiting for your answer with apprehension.

"But… I love them more." You said, looking at the stairs next to the bar. "I… I never thought I could love someone this much. Yes, the postpartum was a fucking hell, and yes, they often are fucking pains in the ass. But… but when I saw Skye crying in pain on the ground I… it was like a primitive instinct. I had to take her out of the danger. To take all my kids away."

Listening to you, Buggy couldn't resist and detached a hand, letting it run in your hairs. He smiled at you sadly and whispered :

"And this danger you ran away from… it was me ?"

As you answered, you caressed his hand with tenderness .

"I don't know… not really. Oh Bugs most of the time you were so amazing with them! I could never have dreamed of a better father for my kids. But that night… when you said you couldn't promise me they'll never get hurt again… I… I couldn't.

- If I knew I'd lose them… lose the four of you, I would have said something else. I was so fucking scared Red… I... "

Tears started running on his cheek again. With a soft gesture, you whipped them away. He shivered feeling your hand on his face. Damn he missed you so fucking much.

"Bugs I…" you started, screams came from the stairs and interrupted you.

"DADDY !"

Buggy looked over his shoulder and felt a manic grin grow on his face when he saw Skye, Rory and Blaze running to him, full of joy.

Buggy felt on his knees, gathering his kids in his arms, covering them in kisses and hugs, tears going down on his cheeks.

You looked at him from behind the bar, your heart shattered by emotion and guilt. Even though you knew the kids were missing their father, you didn't realize just how much until now. Skye, Rory and Blaze were all talking together in a nonsense mess of questions, stories of their life at Fuschia, and soft words to their father who couldn't do anything but cry under this love attack. He fell backwards and ended up sitting on the ground, Rory and Blaze in his arms. Their combined laughs filled the bar. He kissed his twins foreheads with loud noises, spreading red makeup all around their faces.

"Oh my little goblins I missed you so fucking much"

You laughed, allowing the swear to pass this time.

Buggy's eyes went to Skye, in front of him. He kneeled before her and put his hands on her cheeks, looking at her in the eyes, and his face became more serious.

"Skye my cotton candy princess I'm so, so fucking sorry, I promise I'll never let anything hurt you again sweetheart"

Skye jumped at his neck and he held her as hard as he could, paying attention to her injured arm.

You put a hand in front of your mouth. Seeing the scene made you cry as hard as you could, as your love for him came back to you like a boomerang.

Buggy stayed like this for a moment, his three kids in the arms.

A few minutes later, the triplets were tired and had trouble keeping their eyes opened.

"I think it's time for them to go back to bed, Bugs"

You whispered with tenderness.

Skye blinked at her father and asked.

"Daddyyyyy can you read us a story?"

Buggy turned his head to you, a silent question on the face. You nodded. He smiled, and jumped back on his feet. He somehow managed to grab all his kids in the arms.

"Alright kiddoes it's story time !"

He said joyfully, and you chuckled looking at him disappear in the stairs.

You finished cleaning the bar. When everything was done, you went upstairs. In your room, Buggy was sitting on the ground and reading a book to the kids, who were all snuggled under a blanket in the bed they shared.

"… Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning!"

His tone and gestures were theatrically over the top. Peter pan. Of course.

You smiled and lied on the door frame for a little while, looking at him, not wanting to break the magic. You realized how much you missed those moments, and how much you wanted things to go back to how they were. You went downstairs back to the bar, letting him ending his story.

When the triplets finally fell asleep, Buggy went down the stairs to the bar.

You were here, sitting at a table, drinking a glass of rum. He smiled at you, and you smiled at him. You raised the rum bottle to him.

"Wanna share a drink ? Like good old times."

He nodded with enthusiasm, and sat in front of you. You poured rum into a glass for him. He raised his glass to you before taking a sip.

"Damn I forgot how exhausting it was to put them in bed" he grumbled, and you chuckled. For a moment, it was like you never left.

You rubbed your glass nervously.

"It was a mistake."

You whispered, anguish in the voice.

He stopped drinking to look at you with a questioning glance. You bit your lips and looked back at him.

"Leaving you. Taking the kids. They love you so much. I.."

Buggy smiled sadly. All his anger for you was way behind him now, and he just enjoyed being by your side. He sent a hand to caress your cheek with tenderness while the other one was still holding his glass.

"It's ok Reddie." He whispered. "I'm the one to blame. I couldn't admit it but when I saw Skye on the ground… I felt like the shittiest man on earth. I could have punched myself in the face. I almost did it."

He chuckled nervously, drinking a bit of his rum. He couldn't remember being so vulnerable with someone before. But it felt easy. Natural. And being with you again… He felt the same feeling as when his limbs were detached from his body for too long and he finally got them back. For the first time in two months, he felt complete.

You closed your eyes and leaned against his palm, before looking him in the eyes.

"I missed you so much." You whispered.

Suddenly, all the weight he was holding on his shoulders since your departure disappeared. His thumb rubbed your cheek, right under your eyes.

"I missed you too Red'. More than words can express." He admitted, never stopping looking at you.

You fixed your gaze on him. In your eyes he saw an infinite tenderness, and a love that could beat any barrier on the way.

You shared an intimate silence.

It was so good to be at his side again. It was like having back a missing part of you. But you knew you still had serious shit to discuss. You took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"We have to find a way to make it work."

Buggy played with his glass, nervous.

"What do you mean ?" He asked.

You stood up and started walking around to chase away your nervousness.

"I mean…" your started, anxious. "I mean that I'm glad you're here. And I'm glad you apologized to Skye. And oh gosh, I never again want to take care of three toddlers without you by my side. But…"

He turned on his chair to look at you, and his face was filled with apprehension.

"But we have to make sure kids won't get hurt anymore." you finally said "Or at least that they could handle it, Bugs."

He stood up and went to your side. He held you by the waist, a protective gesture you missed too damn much. You crossed your hands behind his neck.

"I'm so fucking sorry Red'. For everything." He whispered, looking down.

You smiled and put your forehead against his. You changed so much. He changed so much. It was hard to believe you were the same idiots who flirted in a drunk burp contest, an eternity ago.

"I'm sorry too, for leaving, for breaking your trust, again and again." You whispered. You carressed his cheek tenderly.

"I love you, Bugs."

He smiled and captured you in a passionate kiss. You stayed like this a few moments. He broke the embrace and touched your chin.

"We will find a way to manage it, Red. I promise."

You were about to talk but he put an index on your lips, raising an eyebrow with a playful glance.

"But ! But. If you want me to keep this promise babe, you have to promise me something in return.

- And what would it be ?, " you asked, your hands playing with the hairs on the back of his head.

He looked at you in the eyes, and you saw all his insecurities, all his vulnerability coming back to the surface as he whispered to you :

"Never leave me again."

You cupped his face in your hands, and deeply kiss him again, and again, and again.

"I promise " you whispered in return. "I won't leave you again"

And for the first time ever, you knew this was a promise you could keep.

sorry for all the cheese I guess ! See you soon for the VERY LAST PART

｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

#buggy the clown #buggy simp #captain buggy #buggy one piece #buggy live action #op buggy #buggy #buggy fanfiction #buggy x female reader #buggy x you #Spotify

81 notes · View notes