#give me colors! give me juxtaposition!

[sword-day]

BETTER CALL SAUL 01x09 Pimento

[girlsdads]

princess babygirl sighting

[silkentine]

All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”

Design Notes and other opining below the cut:

For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.

He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL

If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.

Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL

For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.

I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.

It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!

[firestorm09890]

there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.

this

She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.

But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.

And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.

Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.

I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.

the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.

She absolutely does not feel this way.

On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:

Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...

Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.

and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)

Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way

...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy

I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon

[snalsupremacy]

Why this is my favorite panel in hgsn

Hgsn has some incredible art and page composition, but out of the entire manga so far, to me this is the best panel of them all. Hell, this might be my favorite panel of any manga ever. (Note: Due to respecting the scanlator's wishes, I blanked out the dialogue and replaced all necessary dialogue with the official English source)

1- Build-up

Before I get to the panel itself, lets first talk about the pages before: For context, this is in chapter 2. Yoshiki has just found out about "Hikaru", and its trying to adjust to this new reality. As they walk from school to Yoshiki's house, Yoshiki asks him if he killed Hikaru. This is how the previous two pages look like:

Notice how the half shading effect is done in hatch marks. This is the first sign the all-black shading is a stylistic choice used to convey something.

Look at the balance the two pages form when you put them together: half white, half black, half black, half white. They compliment each other, both in color balance and in panel shape.

We have to turn the page to hear Hikaru's answer to Yoshiki's question. This gives the control of the narrative back to the viewer. This creates tension and build-up to it, it is a common tactic famously employed by Junji Ito in his famous "page-turner" moments where the viewer has to turn the page to see the monster. Except in this instance we are not revealing monsters, or are we?

2- The page

I'm not gonna get into too much detail on the page itself, I just want to point out the juxtaposition between the page composition of this page and the previous two. The last two were balanced and had all the panels closed while this one is much more liberal, bringing a feeling of unbalance, like something just shifted. I'd say the black and white balance is still there, with the Hikaru on white and Yoshiki on black panel side by side and all, which actually brings me to my next point:

3- Black and White

Honestly this could be an entire analysis post of itself, where do I even start?! Let's go from the very beginning. This is the very first time we learn of "Hikaru" :

Notice how the panel is colored black. In fact, throughout the story, we see black panels being spoken by "Hikaru", usually right before he does something unnatural:

And here are the only two instances we see of the Brain-snatcher's true form:

• He's literally a black blob, just like the text bubbles! And now combine that with Hikaru's white hair, and the fact his name means to be bright, and what's the brightest color but white, and there is a clear color symbolism going on:

Hikaru=White

"Hikaru"=Black

4-The Panel

And now we're back to the original panel! Taking all the other points in mind, we can analyze the panel itself

First, his expression. My G-d, his expression! His raised eyebrows and his squinted eyes, making his pupils way larger, make the expression seem almost childish and pitiful. But the half black-out face turns this pity look to an ominous one. Not being able to see the face or having your face obstructed is easy path into the uncanny valley, which I think is the case for this scene. Immediately 180 from "aww the poor guy" to "what is he hiding?"

The white panel says "I like you" while the black panel says "I'm crazy for you". HOWEVER, The white bubble is by the black side of his face and the black bubble is by the white side of his face. So which Hikaru is saying that? Is "Hikaru" crazy for Yoshiki, while Hikaru just liked him, or the other way around? Did the original Hikaru ever love Yoshiki, or is that the monster's feelings? Well we don't know! That's the premise of the whole manga! In one panel!

And that's why it's my favorite :)

[yongislong]

ideal types + dreamies.

genre: fluff? haha

note: ty anon! i hope this is what you meant! this is just my opinion btw i don't know what these mfs like, i tried not to do body types or anything like that bc... ya lol. lmk if anything comes across as harmful! not proofread...

mark... would probably want someone who is just very chill in general. an ambivert for sure. someone very genuine, personable and freindly. someone who can go with the flow but is also so naturally funny. he laughs at everything so that shouldn't be too hard LMAO. loves people who have good music taste. LOOVE a street style type of person. dancer maybe?? someone who he can spend alone time with and fully drop any act he feels he needs to put up. someone who makes him feel safe and comforted. i don't think height matters to him since i think he's pretty secure with himself! likes someone with a loud laugh hehe. someone poc probably. prefers longer hair but will hype you up no matter what you look like because he genuinely finds you perfect. someone who hypes him up as well

renjun... someone artsy for sure! probably someone softer and a more... calming? aura? if he can sit in silence with you and still feel fulfilled i think that's perfect for him. someone shorter maybe? likes full cheeks. doesn't really matter what style for him tbh, he has a pretty dark academia style so if you're similar that cool but if you can change the way he dresses and have him explore new things, he is so down for that. someone who supports him and comforts him when he's having a hard week/month/etc. someone who likes cafes and museums. likes unique features. bubbly personality but also someone who is silently observant. a sucker for intelligent ppl

jeno... hmm... someone cool for sure. likes darker styles i feel like? but also likes it when you dress in lighter colors and stuff as well! doesn't matter what length your hair is, but likes pixie cuts tbh. i feel like he likes more quirky people since he can be a bit serious sometimes. shy boy/excited cute partner trope for sure. someone more assertive. nice smile so you can both be known as the cute smile couple muahaha. like someone who he can go on hikes with and someone who likes nature, dogs and enjoys being more adventurous. would like someone to nurture him tbh, like not baby him but... can take care of him and make him feel loved and relaxed. likes to feel wanted and manly most of the time though. giving very wattpad bad boy whos also a sweetheart?

haechan... someone shy probably so he can be brought back down to earth LMAO but again!!! i think as long as he clicks with someone, he won't really mind. likes to reassure his partner but also likes someone who is driven and passionate about something. would enjoy being around someone who enjoys watching movies and tv. looots of movie dates. someone in a more vintage style would be very intriguing to him. likes people out of the norm. think of chae from twice in regards to style. someone confident no matter what people say about them. likes to be able to have emotional conversations and be open about issues so someone more mature in that aspect would be appreciated. likes clingy people tbh. someone who's probably a bit more structured

jaemin... likes people who are hard to understand. likes people who dress and act however they want to. would support you no matter what LMAO. someone respectful and polite and full of love. animal lover. he pegs me as the type of person who goes for personality more than anything else, if he finds you attractive its just a plus LOL. definitely someone who's an ambivert. someone who can keep up when he's more excited/extroverted but also someone who can sit, cuddle, cook and read in silence with. definitely someone cute! especially if they seem more intimidating on the outside. he finds that juxtaposition really charming. maybe someone short but i don't think it would make or break anything. a poc lover, SLAAYY. hates try-hards or pick me's. someone who can give him confidence and vice versa

chenle... someone more emotionally mature and go with the flow. someone who is consistent. probably someone smart but not necessarily academically? like someone who is wise! life smart LOL. someone who enjoys cooking and shopping together. likes someone who is able to drive him forward if he feels stuck. someone who's really nice. like really REALLY nice. someone who can teach him good values and helps him see life through different perspectives. doesn't really care too much about style, i can't see him being with someone who is heavy heavy into fashion unless its more leaned towards street wear. just someone really cool, yknow? enjoys introverts because he likes to be able to be the only person to see you come out of your shell

jisung... short extrovert HAHA. he's pretty tall so tbh... most people are shorter than him so it doesn't really matter. but i love the trope of him being super quiet with a partner who enjoys peppering his face in kisses and bragging about him to all their friends. carefree person for sure. someone who can let him look at hard situations and help him alleviate his anxiety and let him know everything is gonna be okay because he's trying his best. likes darker styles. i think of like 2014 tumblr when i think of him LMAOO. so yeah... maybe something like that but modernized? likes bangs. loooves people who are naturally cute. likes people who get flustered easily haha. someone who's not embarrassed to show that they love him

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.2

George: We don't have to keep [an image] up, we just remain ourselves. Don't we, Ringo? Ringo: well, we do, I mean, it's the other two we're worried about. It's a joke about John and Paul being bigheads, but a crazy person – definitely not me – could also see it other ways if they wanted to.

Paul talking about their mutual friend when asked how they met and John telling him not to complicate it. They're so married it's ridiculous. 

Always looking at each other with every single joke. 

He looks like he's in a lovely enclosure at the petting zoo. I've always been so confused by this footage. Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?

I LOVE that we now know Paul was cast as Thisbe and John as Pyramus and then they switched. I'm actually dying to know how and why that happened though. My first instinct was “of course. Paul was scared he'd look too convincing as a woman, so John did it for him.” But no. Paul dressed as a woman at the cavern, wore ladies lingerie in Hamburg, and wanted to do a full drag show on TV in the early seventies. So why not Thisbe?

Why do you as a man randomly bring up the color of your friend's dick while staring lovingly into his eyes?

It must be noted. They had a wonderful time playing star-crossed lovers. 

The bickering pianos are so cute! And then John (prompting Paul): and John and I . . . Paul: oh I hate this. John: will probably carry on . . . Paul: we'll carry on songwriting . . . You just know Paul didn't hear the end of that one interview answer for a long long time. And it's because John just had to hear it over and over again.

Love the editing so that Paul smacks John's ass right as the symbols crash. 10/10 A+

This iconic moment. Poor George tally number 4.

Interviewer brings up marriage and John takes a shot like he wants to forget that the whole concept even exists. Literally poor Cynthia. And not even in an “lol her husband's gay” type of way. Just in a genuine “the way their relationship fell apart actually breaks my heart because she really did love him and in his way he loved her too but they were just so thoroughly incompatible” type of way. 

Paul: makes a stupid dad joke. John: giggles gleefully and kicks his feet

I have never seen someone so disappointed that they didn't need to lend their friend a pen. Paul had his hand in his pocket before John even asked the interviewer for a pen and when the interviewer gives him one, Paul literally hangs his head like he's just been cut from the school play. I just. The obsession is frankly cartoonish. But also, he just needs to be needed, you know? How many songs does he have which conflate being needed and being loved?

The juxtaposition of Paul and John elaborately messing with the interviewer (“yes John Lenard, that's me” and “actually it's done by mirrors.”) vs George's “I don't know” and “yeah.” it's actually kind of mean editing but whatever. It is ULM not UH. Someone should make that though.

Again, John. Calm down. He's not that funny. Just look at Jimmy. That's the normal person's reaction to that joke. John is half the reason Paul has such a big head honestly. 

Paul's answer to a question about the Beatles gaining a lot of adult fans is nice. Sometimes he shocks with a bit of wisdom. Sometimes his words don't get messed up at the point they hit his throat as he says. 

What the fuck? Okay so the interviewer asks Paul what he likes in a girl, right? I've always been too distracted by Paul saying he likes a sense of humor and John doing an obnoxious fake laugh in the background because John. It's embarrassing how obvious you are. Stop.

But I never noticed Paul actually says “people”. The interviewer asks about girls and he says he likes “people - er - girls” to have a sense of humor. Huh. Okay. 

So ULM was actually what made me a serious Beatles fan and this was the first moment where I had to pause it and verify to see if what I'd just read was actually true. It really is a doozy. 

How to flirt. A guide by Paul McCartney. Step one: get your crush’s attention. This should be extremely easy. Just gesture vaguely at something you're holding. He'll be interested. Step two: do something suggestive to a phallic object. Step three: that's it. You've got him. He'll do whatever you want.

The editing in this thing truly is brutal. Just the jump cuts from a question about Cynthia to John and Paul making each other laugh to girls screaming to John and Paul unnecessarily touching to girls passed out on the ground to John and Paul desperate for each other's attention to girls waving signs to John and Paul sharing weird eye contact to girls physically mobbing them to John and Paul beaming at each other to a question about Jane. It really does drive home the immense pressure of compulsory heterosexuality back then. 

Then a question that's obviously meant to poke a nerve and start some bad feelings. “Paul. Is John the leader of the Beatles?” Easily rebuffed with “no I'm not” and “there's no real leader”. I know I'm dramatic but really it's like every aspect of that society was against them you know? And they just kind of said "fuck you, we're crazy about each other."

Question: what do they think about when they're imprisoned in their hotel rooms? John: we don't think about one thing. *Whips head to look at Paul* well, some of us do. Oh and you know that how exactly? What, do you just have a printout of his every thought? Do you keep constant tabs on his dick?

Someone give me the heterosexual explanation of that moment when John very clearly and obviously checks out and appreciates Paul's ass as he and Ringo are pretending to be cowboys. Seriously. I'm at a loss here. 

Poor George tally number six? Seven? They're asked what they'll do if England reinstates the draft. John brings up Southern Ireland. George brings up Germany. Paul and John plan their joint escape to Southern Ireland as if George hadn't even spoken. 

The choice to play “Another Girl” over that quote of John's being like ‘Paul's actually much meaner than i am’ is great. Because that's seriously such a jerk song. I don't much like Jane, honestly, but fuck, she deserved so much better than Paul. He was such a douche.  

Literally all the song choices in this are phenomenal. “Hide Your Love Away” over the montage of 60s homophobia moments? It's so genius. Saying everything without saying anything. Letting the Beatles do the talking. 

The laugh track over the cartoon is honestly so sad. Nobody asked them if they were okay with being mocked like that and they never even made a dime off it. What would that have felt like to know that your being “too close” with your best friend was a running joke on TV?

“It's only love and that is all. Why should I feel the way I do?”

[mhaikkun]

Your art is so pretty that I was mindlessly scrolling when I realized that I didn't really give your art the pause and attention it deserved, so I had to scroll back up and offer my apologies in the form of appropriate admiration, soaking in the juxtaposition of colors and line thickness until I felt I had repented. Please continue to bring loveliness into the world. Thank you!

no lie, this is truly the most thoughtful comment I have ever received in my time as an artist sharing work on the internet (and I think I've been doing this for 14 years). I don't think I'll receive greater praise than this and I want to say thank you for taking the time to not only give my art another look, but for writing this for me!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello, can I request a dream x reader where reader is his girlfriend and she gets pregnant and how they would both deal with that situation. Maybe a scene with there daughter years later

Aisle 43

Pettiness knows no bounds, especially when you're one of the Endless. This means that if a toddler is what's standing in Dream's way, then it's still very much fair game.

Dream of the Endless x Reader | 800+ | cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, vague themes of pregnancy/motherhood, jealousy, super-megapetty!Dream of the Endless, Matthew the 'I'm just happy to be here' Raven, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hi my love... i may have totally forgotten I had this in my drafts asfhasfha;sfhasfh sorreh. I JUST DID A DRABBLE BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS MELTING CURRENTLY. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <3

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

I hum as I make my way out of the soup aisle. The little girl that's been following me around the supermarket tugs at my hand repeatedly. I look down at her and she immediately points, "cereal?"

I turn to the pink cereal box she wanted and flatten my lips into a smile, "sorry, kiddo, you're gonna have to-"

"Why are you with a child?"

Both said child and I look up and see a darkly dressed man in the middle of two shelves with brightly colored items. The girl that barely reached my hips looks up at the dark silhouette then grabs my hand. She mumbles, "nightmare."

Said nightmare raises a brow. It was almost as if a dark haze began to form around him. A raven swoops down and lands on his shoulder.

In stark juxtaposition, Matthew the raven chirpily greets me and adds, "mind getting me some cornflakes?"

I push my cart forward, drawing near both them, and the item. I grab the cornflakes and go to the side of the sullen looking being. I tilt my head, "Dream?"

Dream, who has not torn his gaze away from the child, finally spares me a glance. I free my hand of the cornflakes, dropping into my cart, and use it to cup his cheek. His expression softens.

My other hand, still being tugged by the baby girl, is now tucked behind me. She peeps cautiously from my shoulder.

"I'm going grocery shopping with my coworker."

"Your coworker is a child?" Dream says with a hurt expression.

I make a face but sigh. Suddenly, the dull pain on my back is blatant. I rub my round belly that was the cause of it, "yeah. Beatrice is a prodigy. She does our work better than anyone in the department."

Dream frowns and deflates even more.

I raise my brows.

Matthew croaks as he cocks his head. He whispers, "he's been upset that you haven't been sleeping properly."

"You've not been in my realm for ages," Dream knits his brows tightly, "yet here you are with a child that is not even your own."

When Dream comes close to touch me, Beatrice whimpers and pulls me back. She panics, "nightmare! Nightmare!"

The strength of the child is not enough to make me fall back, but it is enough to make me lose my balance. I feel myself slowly lose my footing. Dream grabs me before anything happens though.

The glare that he throws at Beatrice makes her instantly clamor.

If her wailing wasn't enough to make me panic, then it was when she ran away. I turn to run after her, but Dream grabs my arm before I can get anywhere.

"Let me go!" I snap.

"But-"

"I can't lose my coworkers kid!"

"Don't worry!" Matthew takes off, "I'll keep an eye on her."

I watch as Matthew soars above the aisles and then look back down to glare at Dream. I pull my arm out of his grip, "you terrified a four year old."

Dream glares back, "she was stealing you away."

I am flabbergasted. "You literally put a baby inside me!" I motion to my baby bump and give an exasperated look, "yet you're intimidated by a 40 pound little girl- who, by the way, barely even makes up a fraction of how old you are."

He does not argue with this. He has no argument with it. Instead, he mumbles, "you dreamed of her when you napped."

I roll my eyes, "and how many times have I dreamed of you, my lord?"

He turns away, eyes landing on my belly. He pouts and stares a moment before he rubs it, "I do not enjoy when I must share your dreams with others."

The idea is equal parts exhausting, irrational, and somehow darling.

"What if I dream about our baby?" I raise a brow.

He lifts his eyes. He looks like he actually was mentally debating in that split second it took for him to reply. Dream speaks, "I would be willing to share with the blood of my blood."

I scoff and roll my eyes yet again.

He kisses my temple. A part of my hard expression chips away. I offer him an exasperated look.

Dream makes a face, "was I too much?"

I nod.

"I've got good news and bad news," Matthew calls as he swoops down, "good news, Beatrice found her mom and stopped crying!"

I release a sigh of relief.

"Bad news, she may be traumatized for life, because when a man wearing a black trench coat passed by, she started breaking down all over again."

My relief evaporates and I shoot a hard glare at Dream before pushing him out of the way. I drag my cart along with me as I walk off to look for them.

Matthew perches on the edge of the cart, "oooh, mind if we get some sunflower seeds too?"

"Not at all, my love."

Dream grumbles upon hearing this and watches as we take a turn on the candy aisle.

[the-fo0l]

anything with yandere simp ethan winters please i miss that man sm

Yandere simp Ethan Winters x reader

Notes: honestly, I see ethan as being a simp by default. this is my 3rd ethan winters post....... I love him so much it's starting to be a bit embarrassing

Warnings: obsessive, yandere behavior

From the moment he met you, he knew you were the one for him, and he's very committed to becoming your perfect boyfriend

He quickly became obsessed with your very being; every move, every sound, every breath of yours.

You're what brings color to his otherwise dull world, and he is grateful every day for your presence in his life

Grateful, that every morning and night, he gets to hold you close and look at you with those big adoring puppy eyes

He takes pride in being both the provider and homemaker in your relationship. He relishes in this role. He's motivated to work hard, just to make sure you never have to lift a finger.

He cooks all your favorite meals, keeps the house clean and tidy, and makes sure everything is perfect for you

You tried being extra demanding one day, hoping he would get tired and finally let you do some of the chores, or at least stop fussing over you. But after a long day of work, chores, and attending to your every need, all he did was smile brightly and say he wished you were like this more often

He might just enjoy being bossed around by you.....

The way he practically worships you is a big juxtaposition to the passive-aggressiveness he has for everyone else

Never pressures you or tries to control you. He trusts you, it's everyone else he's worried about

There's nothing he wouldn't do for his you. He'd go through actual hell, killing anyone in his way if need be

The thought of someone getting in the way of your happiness is really the only thing that truly angers him

Constantly puts your needs and wants above his own, making sure you're always comfortable and happy.

And lord, don't ever get me started on the gift giving

Constantly praises you for your accomplishments, no matter how small they may seem

Whenever you around him, he just can't help but gaze at you with pure adoration in his eyes, hopeless devotion evident in his gaze

Listens very intently when you speak, taking note of everything you're saying, marveling at your words, drowning in the sweetness of your voice

He loves a raspy morning/sick voice

Just being in your presence relaxes him. You are everything to him. The perfect world for him is one where you're always smiling, always safe

Even when you have disagreements, he backs down immediately, never allowing anything to drive a wedge between you two

You're his idea of perfection, literally nothing he would ever want to change about you

He knows that he has found his soulmate in you, and he feels grateful every single day to have you in his life.

[samatheia229]

Rise Ponderings:

The Turtles With Japanese Names

I've seen a lot of headcanons lately that support the "Rise boys' given names ARE their colours and they only got the artist names later on" narrative so I'd like to share my own.

Rise Splinter is undoubtedly very Americanised but I think that despite him forsaking his familial duties and old life, he’s still Japanese, is still a Hamato. So, subconsciously, he gave the boys Japanese names (of their corresponding colours, of course).

On that note, for all that Splinter has Celebrity-Who-Gives-Their-Kids-Unique-Names energy, I believe that he would still have enough decency to give them somewhat proper Japanese names not just 'Aka', 'Ao', 'Murasaki' and 'Orenji'.

However, for a period of time, the English-colour-names Splinter uses in the show would have been how addressed each other because they are, for the most part, an English-speaking household. Until an eight-year-old April came along insisting that those weren't 'real names', the turtles English names were 'Red', 'Blue' etc. 

After adopting 'proper' English names, those became the common form of address, though Splinter still calls them by the English colours because it's a habit for him. They don't mind.

They don’t use their Japanese names often. It’d mostly be during serious-talk time, in official stuff, calling someone by their full name or teasing. 

Ironically, in Splinter's (read: my) effort to not be a basic bitch, most of the boys' Japanese names are female. You can bet they tease the shit out of each other about it. The only one that actually takes offense to the teasing is Donnie whose name is very common and recognisable, so he always gets asked why he has it and/or if he realises that it's a girly name. 

The Names

*NOTE: I'm using Kanji here. Fair warning, they could be written wrong, so if there are any Japanese speakers out there, do correct me.

Hamato 'Raphael' Shuiro

Shuiro 朱色 = vermilion

Raph’s name is the only one that isn’t a real given name but I thought it suited him.

Colour Symbolism:

Besides being one of the most dominant colors in Japanese culture, red is associated strongly with authority, strength, sacrifice, passion, joy, and happiness. It's also regarded as an auspicious color in Japan.

Frequently said to have Eldest Daughter Syndrome by the fandom, Raph is the ultimate authority among the brothers. He self-appoints as leader not because he necessarily wants to be, but because as the oldest and the biggest, he feels like it's his responsibility to look after the others. Which often takes great strength and sacrifice. Surface Pressure from Encanto, anyone?

Furthermore, red, specifically vermilion, is very symbolic in Japanese architecture:

Red is the color of torii – Shinto shrine gates – temples, and traditional daruma dolls. Red is said to scare away evil spirits and represent protection, strength, peace, and power. 

All in all, very fitting for the big brother and family protector, if you ask me.

Hamato 'Leonardo' Aoi

Aoi 青い = blue

Aoi is a unisex name; meaning hollyhock flower when used for girls and blue for boys. I'm using the male meaning for Leo. 

Colour Symbolism:

Blue commonly represents the sea and the sky (for which Japan is surrounded) and symbolizes purity, dignity, calmness, stability, security, and fidelity. Blue is also regarded as a lucky colour.

In this case, blue is rather in juxtaposition with Leo's personality, but looking at it from a franchise perspective, blue is indeed a leader's colour.

Back then, Japanese society was strictly hierarchical and displayed through the colour of their robes. Of the colors that were allowed for common folk, the color blue was work by higher ranking people. It symbolized wealth and prestige, while also remaining a color of the common folk.

That being said, Leo's a little different from his predecessors. Eventually, he will grow into the role of the leader we know and love. But even when he was unburdened from being leader, he was still the strategist. Leo's leadership in fights is a balance between what is uniquely Rise and the mission-mindset of the leaders in blue who came before him, strategies that are fun, wacky and maybe a little unorthodox yet still as effective for the team.

Hamato 'Donatello' Sumire

Sumire 菫 = violet

Sumire is usually a girl's name but I don’t think Splinter would’ve cared all that much about gender.

Donnie doesn't either and even likes his name, though it has caused him a lot of grief over the years. A lot of people think it's strange for a guy with his personality to have such a feminine name, and he's really sick of having to defend his name after introducing himself. Part of why he wanted 'Donnie'.

Colour Symbolism:

Like in the West, purple in Japanese culture is associated with royalty, as purple dye was rare and only available to those of a higher status. It can also reflect on nobility, spirituality, and wisdom.

Out of everyone, Donnie embraces his colour about the most. His clothes are purple, his tech is purple, his lab is bathed in purple lighting. Purple is Donnie's thing. This, in a way, ties in with the colour's exclusivity back then.

Flower Symbolism:

In Hanakotoba (flower language), the meaning of violet is sincerity, a small love, and a small bliss. Violets are a common gift, as they are an ideal way to show appreciation for a family member or friend and to express sincerity or love.

I think this is very Donnie. What he lacks in the emotional department, he makes up for  through his tech. He creates things for his family, making them all kinds of personalised gizmo. Sometimes it results in disaster but the intention to help is there. Gift-giving is his love language.

Hamato 'Michelangelo' Mikan

Mikan 蜜柑 = tangerine

Mikan is a common Japanese girl name. Baby girls named "Mikan" are usually joyful, positive-thinkers, smiley and generally happy people.

Mikey loves his name and doesn't care that it's girly and cute, no matter how the others tease him about it. (SIDE NOTE: I swear the near-matching names wasn't intentional. I was just looking for a name that means mandarin orange for a bit I'm writing).

Colour Symbolism:

Orange is symbolic of love, happiness and the sun.

The youngest of the family, Mikey is optimistic and cheerful. He brings joy and colour to the household through his art. He encourages everyone to be express their love openly and always tries to be supportive.

Fruit Symbolism:

Besides good fortune, wealth and longevity, the fruit mikan can be tied to family because of its role in Japanese traditions. In Japan, there is a word “Kotatsu de Mikan”, which means:

A family sits around a kotatsu (a traditional Japanese table with an electric heater attached to the underside), watching TV and eating mikan —  the traditional picture of a harmonious family seen in the wintertime.

TLDR; I really love how each turtle has a role to play in the family, how their respective colours are so appropriate for who they are as people, and I wanted their Japanese name to reflect that.

Mikey is all about family. He's the heart, always the peacemaker, always bringing everyone together.

----------

[ddejavvu]

okay din djarin request! what about din being reader’s first kiss? with shy-ish reader maybe? he acts tough but I just know he’s a huge softie for shy!r

Technically, it might be a little unfair to sneak up on Din after his shower. Your feet graze slowly, carefully, over dirt and rocks, planting themselves in areas that will cut up the soles of your shoes the least. Then they hit tile, and you know you're approaching the showers. It's hard navigating with your eyes closed, but you'd rather ram into a wall than compromise Din's way of life.

Fortunately for you, you don't ram into a wall. You hear the sound of water being rung from a cloth, then a dry towel grating through Din's hair. God, you wonder, what color is his hair? What does it look like? Is it long? Is it short? Is it-

"Y/N?" You hear, Din's voice much less tinny without the helmet on. It's still deep, rough, though, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You startle, and you nearly drop your hands from over your eyes, but you catch yourself.

"You can't be here," Din scolds, already scrambling for his helmet, "I- You can't see me, not like this."

"My eyes are covered," You promise, and you hear him still, then shift, probably turning to face you.

"Did you need something?" Din asks, slightly less tense this time. It's still there, and you wish you could see the accompanying look on his face. Is it stern? Is it curious? Is it pretty? You bet it's pretty.

"I.." Now that you're here, you don't know what to say. You take a deep breath, pressing your hands further over your eyes, "I like you, Din."

He's silent; deathly so.

"And- I think you like me, too," Now you're glad you can't see his face, and you try to hide more of yours like you'll simply disappear, "And if I'm right... I want you to kiss me."

There's more silence, and you blabber to fill it: "I've never been kissed before. And I want you to do it, I- I want you to be my first."

"But if you don't want to," You feel pathetic now, shoulders sagging, lips trembling ever so slightly, "I guess I'll-"

"Stop." You hear, Din's voice suddenly inches away from you. You gasp, and your breath holds stiff in your chest.

A hand slides over your own, gentle in pressure but rough in texture. Din's hand keeps your hands pressed to your eyes, and his other comes to ghost against the underside of your chin.

It's better than you could have ever imagined. He tilts your chin up, soft and sweet, and his lips press against you hesitantly. You've never seen Din as anything but confident and stony, now you're sure if you opened your eyes and tore your hands away from your face you'd see a loverboy staring back at you. His lips are soft, but there's a mustache prickling against your skin. His kiss is such a sweet juxtaposition from his sleek armor, the beskar plating that you've dozed off against countless times since meeting and travelling with the Mandalorian.

He barely puts pressure there, he gives you just a taste. All he does is lock your lips, and hold it there. It lets you soak him in, and you hope he can feel the giddy adoration that you're pumping into the embrace.

Then, just as gently as he'd kissed you, he breaks away.

Cold air rushes to hit your lips, a chilling contrast from Din's warm, soft ones. He's still lingering by your face, you feel his breath on your skin, but he lets his hand slowly fall away from your own.

"Don't open your eyes," He warns, voice impossibly soothing and husky, "I want you to put my helmet on."

"Okay," You stammer, pressing your hands more flush to your face as his footsteps recede. Then you hear the scrape of metal on stone, and he pulls at your hands with a bare one of his own.

"Keep your eyes closed," He reminds you, "You need both hands."

"Okay," You nod, letting him peel your hands away from your eyes, though you keep them squeezed tightly shut.

"Feel it?" He asks, slipping his helmet between your hands. You nod, fingers tracing the curves you've only explored with your eyes before now.

"Reach up," He tells you, pushing your elbow. You do as you're told, and he takes hold of your forearms to guide the helmet over his head.

Lowering it feels like hell. You feel like he's slipping away from you, like whatever connection you'd had will disappear with his lips. But his hands stay on your arms even after you secure the helmet on his head, and he takes your face in his hands.

Gently he thumbs at your eyelids, voice once more filtered through his helmet, "You can open your eyes now."

A familiar sleek design greets you when your eyes open, albeit a blurry one from how hard you'd been squeezing them shut. Your eyes linger on the horizontal stripe, where you know his eyes are beneath the helmet, wishing you could gaze into them and see his soul through them.

All you can do is lean forwards again, pressing a soft kiss to the cold beskar, where his cheek would be. He keeps his hands on your face, but he lets you pucker your lips against his helmet, and you hope that he's blushing beneath the metal armor.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

sting, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader — mentions of husband!seokjin x reader

summary: “Please let me borrow your husband.” “You can if I can borrow Seokjin.” And so Min Yoongi was here, sitting on a ivory-colored leather sofa, surveying Kim Seokjin's wife with a critical eye. He hadn't expected to be in this position, but it was his wife's request and he never disappointed his lovely (devious) wife.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; the other side of the wife swap in honey, m (ksj) and Yoongi is about to fuck his hyung's wife, yup; D/s smut (fem reader, he is borderline mean, manhandling tbh, choking kink, hair pulling, nipple play, he spits on her tits, m-receiving oral / face fucking, ass + pussy slapping, m-masturbation, fingering, standing doggy, overstimulation / multiple orgasms); non-idol!BTS - dom!Yoongi x not-his-wife, sub!reader; Yoongi's POV

his outfit is inspired by the 'D-Day' Agust D ver PC photos, leather moto jacket and ripped jeans, and ofc his long black hair ;)

--

“It’s fun sometimes, to do the wrong thing and get away with no consequence.”

“Please stop giving me tangerines.”

“Ahahaha…”

If anyone was not afraid of falling in love with Kim Seokjin’s wife, it was definitely Min Yoongi. He set the fourth… actually, fifth tangerine onto the stack in front of him on the coffee table. This attempt at offering delicious fruits to lessen the obvious awkwardness was not working. It wasn’t that Yoongi did not like tangerines. He loved them. Refreshing snacks that came in their own compostable packaging? Truly nature’s finest work.

“If you want my fingers stuffed in your holes, it would be rude of me to cover them in tangerine juice,” he explained calmly, pushing back his long dark hair and raising an eyebrow at Kim Seokjin’s wife.

She turned pink and started sputtering.

He remained calm and expressionless, recalling the conversation that made it come to this.

“She’s interested in you,” his wife had said with a small smile.

“In me?”

“As she should be, because my husband is handsome, talented, and a sex god.”

Yoongi hadn’t married his wife because she was humble; she was simply honest.

Obviously.

He had been called to action and he intended to fulfill his promise. Interested in him, hm? Yoongi wasn’t one to boast about his sexual prowess himself and, anyway, he was infinitely better now than before his wife. Took a god to create another, right? He half-smiled, knowing his wife would enjoy such a comment. But he had to put those thoughts away at the moment and not be disingenuous to the lovely lady in front of him. His hyung had taste in women, all right. She was pretty in the way that was easily approachable. Kind eyes and a soft demeanor. He knew Seokjin’s wife well enough to know she was usually had a more casual, clean style, but today she wore a black slip dress with a matching black lace bolero. The seams of the dress framed those juicy tits perfectly. No bra either. Such easy access. The dress was within her realm but fancier and sexier. He suspected that the outfit was his wife’s encouragement to get him in the mood. Heh. She was really enjoying orchestrating all this, wasn’t she? She knew what made him tick and how to frame this moment to make him want it within his grasp.

A challenge.

Yoongi couldn’t refuse to back down from a challenge to himself.

In contrast, he had arrived in his worn, black leather moto jacket, faded white-and-grey t-shirt, and distressed acid-wash slate jeans. Again, his wife’s doing. He had asked her what to wear. She had suggested for him to dress comfortably – probably to create this juxtaposition on purpose. Most times, he tended to dress up when visiting Seokjin’s home. The, uh, neighborhood seemed to call for it. But not this time. He hadn’t even tied up his hair, just left it shaggy and unkempt, leaving him looking more roguish than usual.

He heard his wife’s growling whisper in his ear.

Stop fucking around.

He let out a slow breath and flicked his eyes up.

Raised an eyebrow.

Seokjin’s wife was attempting to say something to him, red-faced and wringing her hands adorably, but Yoongi raised his hand and placed a single finger on those soft, glimmering pink lips. No matter what, he had to remind himself of her position. Therefore, he was going to avoid using her name directly unless it was absolutely necessary. He also preferred less talking. He needed to be in his head to pull this off.

He stared into those wide, expectant eyes.

Spoke slowly, using the lower octave of his vocal range.

“The safe word is tangerine.”

These self-imposed boundaries were not because Yoongi didn’t like her as a person. He did, but Seokjin’s wife was not his wife, so the emotional turn-on was missing. And, unlike his wife, his domspace was in a deeper place. He had been spoiled by his love and her energy. She always coaxed out his darker desires with ease, but this time he had to bring out his primal side by himself to lead properly.

“You will not speak unless I ask you a direct question.”

He raised his chin, volume barely above a whisper.

“Do you understand?”

She nodded quickly.

A small spark raced down his spine and Yoongi licked his lips, removing his index finger from her lips.

In complete silence, he hooked two fingers around the hair elastic on his left wrist and pulled up, raising his arms in a creak of leather to tie back the top half of his hair. Partly to get it our of his eyes. He secured his ponytail and lowered his arms, trailing his gaze up the sheer thigh-high stockings to lush hips flush against the sofa cushions to small hands clasped tightly in front of her chest and then finally to shaking irises that were taking in his half-tied back hair.

Heh.

Her lips parted, simply staring at him.

The corner of his lips ticked upward.

Then he shot his arm out and grabbed her by the throat.

She yelped, hands flying up and gripping his wrist and edge of his palm, but Yoongi had done this many times. He immediately locked his hold but did not press inward. Instead, he pushed his shoulder forward, forcing her body to tip backwards slightly, suspending her upper body in the air.

 “Ah, Yoongi-oppa–”

He closed his other hand over her mouth, gripping her cheeks tightly.

“What did I just say?” he warned.

Stern, with an edge of danger. She nodded very quickly even though technically this was not a question to agree to. He let it slide. He tilted his head, still covering her lips.

“Scared?”

The terror in those eyes was not as honest as it could be.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He removed his hand and traced a line from temple to chin, keeping his touch feather-light and gentle.

“I’m only going to push the line of pleasure and pain,” he murmured.

Yoongi only had a vague idea of what was expected of him. He knew she wanted to be truly dominated as this was not usually part of her sex life. He didn’t really want to know specifics anyway. He only wanted to know what he could do that was different. The issue was that apparently his hyung couldn’t be detached and impartial. In short, Seokjin worried too much because he was too sweet. Sometimes he sacrificed acting so it didn’t affect his performance. He had strength and he could be overbearing, but not exactly in a rough take-what-you-want way.

Yoongi tucked a spare strand of hair behind that delicate ear.

“It might sting though.”

He noted the small gold hoops covered in diamonds. Hm. Pretty. Maybe he would ask for the brand later.

Then he smiled.

Calmly.

And choked her.

The sensation of power seeped into him. Thick, heavy, coating his senses, dripping like hot honey, drawing all of his focus into her surprised eyes, those petting fingertips stroking the exposed veins and tendons along the back of his larger hand, soft mewl calling for him, and Yoongi felt his lips curve into a knowing smirk, honing his attention on the submissive wordless plea falling from those lips.

He raised his body with one knee on the sofa, half-standing, hovering over her, adding pressure to the sides of her neck, slowing down the blood flow. A beautiful flower trapped in his clutches. He leaned in, tracing the edge of his teeth with his tongue.

He could almost taste the nectar.

“Hah…”

Let his breath warm those open lips, running his fingers through her hair.

“I would say, let’s play nice, but.”

His wickedness unfurled.

“I have no intention of playing nice.”

Yoongi tangled his fingers into her hair and yanked hard, relishing in the pained whine before taking it away by the throat, choking her into silence. Closed the distance, lips hovering over shaking lips, but he denied that too, dragging his tongue over her cheek, tasting flesh and anticipation.

“Did you really think I would kiss you?” he purred, letting the words stir and curl in the depths of his chest. “Let’s see if you can earn that gift, hm?”

He didn’t bother to be gentle. That wasn’t the point and, besides, that consideration was reserved for his love. He let go, simply releasing all the pressure instantly, and settled back onto the sofa, not even giving the grace of a glance in her direction. He heard her reel from the sudden punch of oxygen and freedom, collapsing slightly in wheezing coughs, and Yoongi immediately placed his hand onto her shoulder and shoved her to the floor, hooking his leg around her body and dragging her in front of him, on her knees.

She gasped, gripping his thighs, looking up with pained eyes.

He dragged himself forward, on the edge, and looked down with a grin.

“Pretty in pain.”

He let go of her shoulder and hooked his fingers over the edges of the bolero and the straps of the slinky slip dress, lifting and sliding them down her arms in one smooth motion. She squeaked, suddenly self-conscious but he knocked her hands away, tucking the upper half of the dress under her breasts, chuckling darkly. Nipples already hard, plush tits pushed up by the dress. He cupped his hand under her chin again, gripping tight. Lifted her up to set her back straight so her tits were pushed out, her exposed body between his open knees.

He made his voice was cold and as deep as possible.

“Show me how you play with your tits for your husband.”

Not choking yet, but her breathing was already short, whimpering. Slowly moving her hands from his legs and flattening her palms against her breasts, kneading them lightly, unsure how to proceed. He let it be humiliating. Not reacting, ticking his head and lifting his eyebrow. Did not remove his hand though, tipping her head back more in warning. She gasped, moaning softly as she pinched her nipples, pulling them out and toying with them more.

“Harder,” Yoongi growled.

Shaking whines as he watched her obey, pinching harder, squeezing her breasts so they spilled out against her fingers, her eyelids fluttering as he subtly applied pressure. He lowered his face, staring into her glazed-over eyes.

“What is the safe word?” he asked directly.

“T… T-Tangerine.”

Yoongi nodded. “Hm. Good girl.”

Her face lit up from the praise until he spat on her tits.

She yelped and her whole body jerked, glossy saliva dripping down the curves and sticking to her skin, but he ignored it, choking her hard as he raised his hips and unbuttoned his jeans with his free hand, speaking calmly and slowly.

“You said I reminded you of tangerines,” he mused, recalling the earlier conversation. “Soft on the inside, tough peel on the outside. Mmmm, but I don’t know about that.”

He abruptly let go again, sending her into a spiral of sensations. Rushing blood, tension broken, air flooding into her lungs, and he took the moment to lower his jeans and his underwear. He thought about removing more but honestly he enjoyed this power play more. He reached behind her and wound the lace bolero down, trapping her squirming arms. She was utterly confused and then suddenly frozen, staring at his hand around his hard cock. He ran his thumb against the side, locking her head in place with his other hand, spreading his fingers over the crown of her skull, bringing his hips forward without a word.

He licked his teeth, open-mouthed smirk dripping sin.

“Now, I know hyung wouldn’t marry a woman with a subpar mouth, so let’s see what you’ve got.”

He pushed her head down and thrust roughly into her throat.

He settled his other hand behind him before fucking her face, not fast but deep, enjoying the little jolt of her shoulders as he did so. Tight and soft, just as he liked. Not nearly enough tongue, but he didn’t fault her for the lack of technique. Probably not every day she got face-fucked in such an uncomfortable position. Therefore, he didn’t put the pressure on her to get him off but rather used her like a toy, back and forth, smacking his balls into her chin, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he looked down and watched her breasts bounce with his force. Her whimpers added vibration to pleasure, and he curled his fingers into her hair, imprisoning the position of her head so her mouth could serve his cock, each snap of the hips anchored by his torso and thighs, letting him put real force behind his action.

He remained silent and amused.

Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her hands were pinned down to her thighs. He saw her fingers twist into the hem of her dress, lifting it up. He kept the pace consistent, building his orgasm, feeling it to his core, wet, hot, tight, muffled cries stuffed back into her throat over and over again. He tilted his hips down, running the head of his cock along her tongue for more stimulation. The hardware of his moto jacket clicked with his repeated thrusts, the leather hot and stuffy, the kind of discomfort that only added to the mood. The whole situation reminded him slightly of how he had been back in the day, barely an adult thinking he could do whatever and whoever he wanted.

Feeling good by doing the wrong thing and getting away with no consequence.

He exhaled hard.

Small tears gathered against her lashes, the strain and desperation of being good blatantly evident.

“I see what your husband enjoys so much now.”

Her eyes opened a little.

Glassy.

Used.

Delicious.

He came down her throat, raising his hips to stuff it down.

Her eyes rolled back, whimpering and almost sobbing, hurriedly swallowing to breathe. He bit back his wince, oversensitivity crawling up his back, and pressed deeper, groaning as he felt his cock jerk in her tight throat, squishing more cum into her tongue. He pinned her head there, sucking in a hissing inhale to get his bearings, her breath warming his lower belly.

Good job, my darling.

Yoongi snarled deep in his chest. He knew his wife too well. Could nearly imagine her here, watching carefully and with that small smile that meant she believed he could do more. Be more. Push the limit. Fuck. He let go, throwing off his jacket as the woman between his legs gasped and moaned, spent from being used. But it wasn’t those hazy, lust-drunk eyes that were in his head.

However, you’re better than that, aren’t you?

He knew he was being stared at. He was a spectacle right now. His falling jeans, the tangle of chain and leather bracelets clinking on his wrists, the way the large t-shirt clung off his torso, his half-tied up long black hair, the faint sheen of sweat along his flushed cheekbones, and, finally, his furrowed brow and sharpened gaze, looking down at the pretty thing between his open legs.

“Stand up,” he commanded.

He didn’t waste time going to the bedroom.

He pulled the condom from his jacket pocket and yanked her up by the arm, bending her over the side of the ivory leather sofa. An unceremonious position for Kim Seokjin’s beautiful wife, but Yoongi didn’t give a shit. He peeled the lace bolero from her arms and tossed it onto the floor, shoving his hand down on her upper back. She squeaked, falling forward onto the cushions and his leather jacket, grabbing it tightly as he caught her waist, steadying her body just before harsh contact.

“Spread your legs,” he said coolly, borderline bored.

“B-But–”

Smack!

The flat of his palm instantly stuck her ass. She yelped and squirmed, stifling her cry by burying her face in his jacket, and he made no move to comfort, pushing down on her lower back so her round, inviting ass popped up more.

“You do not speak unless I ask you a direct question,” he sternly reminded.

She made a choked noise of agreement.

“Good girl.”

He couldn’t help but smile when she mewled softly at his words. So easy. He fanned his fingers over her ass, tapping lightly. Watched her fingers curl into his jacket, covering herself with his scent. He ghosted his touch over his half-hard cock and hummed, gently drumming his fingertips down, closer, leisurely.

Then he slapped her pussy.

Already wet, creating a loud squelching sound. She cried out, back arching, throwing her head back, and he continued, hard slap after slap, using the full expanse of his hand to amplify the sting to skin. She tried to close her legs and he forced them apart with his knee, casually stroking himself as he did so, unexpectedly interspersing hits between her ass and soaked pussy. No rhyme or rhythm, just deadly calm and his own soft sighs of satisfaction completely contrasting the force behind his hand. It was all too easy to slide his fingers down her slick slit.

Yoongi bent down, rubbing her clit firmly as he whispered above shaking shoulders.

“You want this cock inside you, don’t you?”

He only now noticed that he had slipped into his satoori, forgetting to speak properly. It didn’t seem to matter through, because she was clawing at his jacket and whining, yes, please, y-yes, a fresh wave of shuddering moans when he shoved two fingers into that tightness, viciously pumping them in and out. He kept her waiting, just for seconds longer, jacking himself off as he felt her walls suck him in, clinging and pulsating around his fingers, hot skin radiating against his.

Enough is enough, Yoongi told himself.

He debated on removing his shirt but decided he didn’t care. Reached back to his falling pants' pocket and pulled out the condom, pulling his fingers out to rip it open. Sweet honey clung to his knuckles but it didn’t hinder him. Seokjin’s wife gasping into the sofa, ass flushed pink, trembling legs struggling to hold herself up.

He rolled the condom down.

“Go ahead and scream.”

It was necessarily a scream per se, but it was a very loud feral cry that suddenly echoed about the living room the moment he shoved his full hardness deep inside, adding a snap of his hips to bottom out. He exhaled hard, gripping her ass and lifting it roughly to adjust the angle. Easy when she was melting against him, clawing at the sofa for some kind of hold. No need, but he didn’t say so, enjoying her euphoric agony. He could feel her ass grind into his crotch, inner walls gripping him tightly, and he secured his hold on her hips, locking his fingers, and began to fuck her right against her own sofa.

He hoped she remembered picking out the furniture.

Hoped she remembered discussing it with her husband and laughing as their butts tested various contestants before selecting this very particular one, only to be bent over it and taken like an animal, face against the cushions, the metal zipper of his leather jacket cutting into her breasts as she bunched it up under her chest, gasping and moaning from his powerful, deliberate thrusts. Yoongi made it last, choosing power over speed. He tensed his pelvis and leaned forward to get that depth, panting, pressing his fingertips into her waist hard enough to leave bruises.

“You wanted me to choke you, wasn’t that it?” he breathed out, heavy and raspy. “Where did you get the audacity to ask for something like that?”

“A-Aah, p-please… she–!”

He smacked his palm against the side of her hip and she cried out, throwing her head back, hands slipping against the leather. The answer didn’t really matter.

“And what make you think that you wouldn’t face the consequences?”

Yoongi was just in the mood to taunt.

He was nearing the edge so he gripped one of her shoulders, bending over her smaller body and slamming his hips into her ass, violent pleasure snaking into his veins. He looked down to see her face turned, cheek pressed into his jacket and the sofa, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut, whining pathetically as he buried his cock deep inside and hissed, feeling her pussy pulsate and clench around his jerking length.

No time to breathe.

He spread his fingers over her upper thigh and held tightly onto her shoulder, lifting her upper body up. Reflexively, her hands planted onto the sofa to support her, quivering arms and all, and that was exactly what he wanted.

With some effort, Yoongi twisted his right wrist and choked her.

His left hand slid down and he rubbed fast, tight circles over her swollen clit.

“Your boldness needs to be punished.”

Moaning, crying, whining, her whole body becoming rigid and then ransacked by shivers. Strangled whimpers of his name but Yoongi didn’t stop, pushing for another orgasm that he could still feel even around his softening length. He was large enough that he hadn’t slipped out. She no longer had any control over her body, second orgasm incoming, the overwhelming pleasure eating up all common sense and the highs blending into one another, extending his own pleasure as her pussy convulsed, thick, honey-like cum sticking between their joined thighs. Her arms went limp, collapsing, and he had less than ten seconds to hold her up before gravity would knock them down.

He clenched his jaw and pulled back.

Standing was a loose term for what was happening. Yoongi had to grip the side of the couch so he didn’t stumble, keeping his grasp on her collarbones to press her hot body against his, still shaking from the intensity. The room reeked of sex. His cock was sliding out. He should have gotten rid of his jeans. They were a hinderance around his calves now.

Sigh.

Seokjin’s wife was fully leaning on his chest, gasping lungfuls of precious air.

His own wife was probably having her own way with Kim Seokjin right now, but she was a better planner and not this messy.

Right?

“Hey.”

He grabbed one of her tits and sank his fingers into it, kneading roughly to get her attention, but the eyes that greeted him were completely unfocused. Nice.

“Let’s take a break.”

She tried to rut into his crotch but his hand shot up, grabbing her chin and yanking it to his face, forcing her into an uncomfortable twist of her exhausted body.

“I will rephrase. Stop.”

She whimpered, unable to fight him. He softened. She was very pretty. Too innocent-looking and airheaded for him, but that didn’t matter. It was very clear that she enjoyed it, but now Yoongi could see there was hesitancy in asking if he did. Probably had something to do with the unapproachable air of his demeanor right now. He toned it down a little, closing in the distance. He wasn’t much of a talker, which didn’t suit everyone. He relied too much on his wife to infer from his actions but it wasn’t fair to apply that line of thinking to everybody. He had to do his best to be communicative even if he wasn’t saying something directly.

“Don’t give me those puppy eyes,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “You’ve earned one kiss.”

He tilted his head and kissed her deeply. Strands of his hair fell forward, loosened from his ponytail, drifting onto her temples. Gentle, delicate, sliding his tongue lightly against hers. He let it last. He could taste desperation. It made him smile into the kiss.

There was no rush.

He had a lot of time left.

His hand slid down, his long fingers decorating that neck.

“And more to do,” Yoongi whispered to trembling lips.

--

masterpost

[stevesjockstrap]

Somebody to Love

@stcreators event 04: music

Steve/Eddie • rated G • 90s, no upside down, single dad Steve • read on ao3

Eddie loathed the early shift at the record store, but Allan had moved away and the new hire was a college student who had class every morning, so Eddie had begrudgingly agreed when Chrissy had explained the situation.

He was not a morning person. But he figured since the store was usually empty in the morning, he could use the time to write music or work on his D&D campaigns. Then go home and nap.

Everything changed the day the new customer walked in. It was just after nine, and Eddie had had about four sips of coffee when the bell on the door jingled.

“Welcome to Chrissy’s Classics,” he monotoned.

“Mornin’,” the guy mumbled, giving him a nod.

He tried his best not to stare as the man walked aimlessly around the store. He looked younger than Eddie, but had more laugh and worry lines. They suited him. Showed off that he’d expressed himself a lot. He appreciated those things about people. Scars and freckles and callouses and liver spots. Those were the things that made you real, the things that showed you really lived.

The customer’s hair was hidden under a beanie, but his sideburns and the too long tufts on the back of his neck were a gorgeous and intriguing copper color.

They made sudden awkward eye contact when the man looked up and Eddie immediately ducked his head down to his notebook. His closed notebook. He heard a small snicker and he winced. Caught.

Deciding to go for broke, he cleared his throat and looked back up. “You need any help finding anything today, sir?”

The man laughed, grinning over at him. “No, I don’t think. And lose the ‘sir.’ It makes me feel ancient.”

“You’re not ancient,” he argued. If he was ancient then Eddie was already dead.

“Thanks, I’ll take that today,” the man gave him a crooked smile. He held up a record and nodded towards a listening booth. Eddie waved a hand.

That was good. Let’s him off the hook of making small talk. At least until he’d woken up a bit more.

A few minutes later, though, he almost dropped his coffee cup when he heard singing coming from the booth. Not entirely on key, but belting out George Michael without a care in the world, and it brought a smile to Eddie’s face. So new guy assumed the booths were soundproof. They definitely were not.

But over the next couple weeks this became their norm. Usually the first customer of the day, if not the only customer Eddie saw during the morning, Crinkly Eyes would show up, they’d have some pleasant small talk about the weather or a new album release that week, and he’d end up in a booth. Where he’d sing. Usually some pop hit, but sometimes going rogue and choosing The Cure or Van Halen.

While Eddie would pretend like he couldn’t hear. Secretly serenaded while he mapped out his campaigns or doodled. Tried to decide when he’d gather the courage to ask out the hot guy who didn’t know he was putting on a concert for one.

When Chrissy stopped by early to do payroll, she heard him in the booth and raised an eyebrow. Eddie shook his head pointedly at her and she’d just shrugged.

“Whatever, weirdo. Your funeral when he finds out eventually,” she’d scolded quietly as she walked back to the office.

Then on a perfectly ordinary day, Crinkly Eyes walked in with his nails painted. All different colors and what had to be glitter, the sunlight catching on it just right. Eddie couldn’t drag his eyes away, the juxtaposition of the big manly hands and the pretty nails causing his brain to malfunction.

The man blushed so prettily, too. “Oh,” he murmured. “I forgot. Um, my daughter, she- well she only has twenty of her own nails to paint. She was upset that she couldn’t use all the colors.” He raked a hand nervously through his hair.

“Looks nice, very pretty,” Eddie offered with a lopsided grin.

“Hah, thanks,” he stuck his hand out finally and introduced himself. “I’m Steve, by the way. Thanks for letting me come here like every day and annoy you. My kid, she started half day kindergarten around the corner… and I didn’t want to be far, you know, if she needed me? And I can’t stand being home alone anymore. It’s too quiet.” The man, Crinkly Eyes, Steve, realized he was rambling and pulled his lips in between his teeth. Adorably.

“Oh, yeah, of course. It’s pretty boring here in the mornings, anyways. Chrissy would probably be happier if I sold you something, but it’s fine.” He laughed at Steve’s stricken face. “Seriously, it’s cool. At least you’re dusting off the record players for me, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve said a bit awkwardly.

“You should bring your artist daughter in some time. I’d love to meet her.”

“Oh? Y-yeah, that’d be okay?” He seemed to be asking a deeper question.

“I’d like it, or maybe we could do dinner just the two of us first. Before I meet the family.” He winked.

Steve sucked in a breath but recovered quickly. “Yes! I mean, yeah, uh, we could definitely do that.” His eyes crinkled up more as he smiled wide.

It wasn’t until after their dinner that he confessed to listening to him singing every day, and he’d watched mesmerized as Steve turned a brilliant red and stammered at him.

Title from the song Somebody to Love, Steve would’ve been stoked about the George Michael release.

[beaulesbian]

i wanted to keep up more with the Trigun book club, but i will probably join once it reaches the Trigun Maximum, bc i read the first two volumes few weeks ago,

but there was something i kept wondering about since watching Trigun Stampede ep 7,  where they stop the sand steamer - where we saw Vash and the Plant helped to stop the sand steamer, but it wasn't brought up again how or in what way? (or maybe i didnt pick up on it when watching; or maybe they're just planning to reveal how the plants work in next seasons), and the focus was mostly on the fact that he’s a plant himself too, which was the big reveal for Meryl and Roberto (with Wolfwood probably already knowing).

i couldn't help but comparing it with this part in the manga in chapter 9 - a very similar plot of stopping the sand steamer with Vash asking the plant for help.

In the chapter it was said something along the lines that while the plant is breathing and functioning, it produces the energy for the sand steamer

and so Vash asked her to help him - to stop breathing, and he stopped along with her. so they together helped to stop the sand steamer.

Which brings me back to Stampede:

It would make sense if he did the same thing - asking her to help him and together they stopped breathing to slow down the power for the sand steamer.

and that’s why he fainted right after, at the end of the episode.

[thud]

---

this is just mostly me wondering how far would Vash go to offer his life if it meant to save others, like stop breathing...

and if he’s asking the Plant, his sister, for this unpleasant thing and feels he should carry that burden and suffer along with her? OR if that genuinely helps them connect like that to have this ability OR if he’s giving her his strength through that link? all of these possibilities are so angsty and emotional ;-;

(i haven't read past Trigun vol. 2 yet, so i'm not sure if it’s explained more later on. i just like these similarities between the manga and Stampede anime)

~~~

also another small thing about this part in Stampede:

with the the idea of the lack of oxygen - it was interesting how they juxtapositioned Wolfwood and Vash’s scenes with orange and blue  a.k.a. complimentary colors, and with fire and air.

where fire needs the air to live, and in this part they’re both willingly trying to stop breathing and burn, respectively, to save others!

[robynrocksforbrains]

I'm about to ramble like I've never rambled before.

Season five is going to have the most well executed displays of affection and romantic moments not only because byler will be happening but also because this show has always been about LOVE. Love has been constant throughout the entire show. It's always been about love saving the day. Which is why we see what happens when love is unwavering. When it's hidden. When it's suppressed. We see the consequences of believing there is a "right way" to love. We see the consequences of performing love. And we see the rewards of just loving. No matter what other people say. No matter if people think you're crazy. If you love someone you fight for them even when everyone tells you it's wrong. Or that you shouldn't. Or that you should give up.

That is most prevalent in season one and two.

In season one the whole town thinks Joyce is crazy. But she says it herself "Maybe I'm crazy! Maybe I'm out of my mind! But god help me I will keep these lights up until the day I die if I think there's a chance that Will is still out there!" Jonathan and Nancy team up to kill the demogorgon because they love Will and Barb respectively. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin continue to search for Will even when it will get them in trouble. Even when it's dangerous. Even when everyone believes he's dead. They keep searching and they keep fighting because they love him.

In season two Joyce, Jonathan, and Mike do not stop trying to reach Will. Even when he appears to be gone, they keep reaching. And once they reach him they keep holding on. And even when Will tells them to close the gate, likely knowing it will kill him, they don't accept that. Joyce finds a way. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Max, and Steve find a way to give El and Hopper a fighting chance. All of their actions are fueled by unwavering love and loyalty for each other.

This show has always been about love. It has been the lifeblood of the entire series. It has been a constant, so much so that you almost become blind to it. Because unwavering love is the baseline, you don't really notice it until something changes. That's what seasons three and four did. They made us notice that the baseline existed in the first place. We started to see fluctuations.

In season three, Mike and El are constantly off in their own little world, they aren't considerate of their friends. Will is feeling completely and totally isolated and like the group is falling apart. Dustin is separated from them for the entire season. Will says it best in the rain fight "where's Dustin? See you don't know and you don't even care! And obviously he doesn't either and I don't blame him!". The Party has their good moments in season three, but gone is the shameless love and unwavering support that they once offered each other. Lucas and Mike leave Will out and make fun of him. Which is so unlike them. None of them actually believe Suzie exists, and they humor Dustin in a condescending manner. Dustin isn't an idiot, he knew that they were being condescending. But he chose to give them the benefit of the doubt and tolerate them because it was so unusual for them to be so mean to each other. In conclusion, season three shows us the consequence of the loss of that unwavering and unselfish love.

(color code for this point on: genuine love / performance / something that is not loving)

In season four, there is even more fluctuating. The season starts off with El lying in her letter to Mike. Ending a letter of lies with "Love, El". Which is an interesting juxtaposition to the concept of "true love". Will's feelings are spotlighted by the mention of the painting and the "girl" he might like. Mike and Dustin are not supportive of Lucas, and they are not there to celebrate his accomplishments. Will is supportive of El and tries to comfort her in the face of her "failures". (Not that I think her class presentation was a failure, she did amazing. But she felt like she had failed.) Lucas continues to reach out to Max and pay attention to her even when she continuously pushes him away; even when she's mean. We see Mike and El putting on fake smiles, it's clear that they can't be themselves in this relationship. They're once again ignoring Will. Mike and Will fight again. Mike and El have their fight about Mike's inability to say "I love you" and about how he makes El feel like a monster. Joyce and Murray go to FUCKING RUSSIA to save Hopper. Mike and Will begin to patch up their relationship. Will gives Mike the painting and along with it his veiled love confession. And although it's hidden behind a flimsy lie, it is such a beautiful act of love. Because the lie is not selfish. He's lying because he believes it is what's best for Mike, not himself. He hands over his heart on a silver platter for Mike and tells him that it's someone else's because he believes that's what Mike needs. Although it is dishonest, it is closer to the concept of "true love" than El's letter from the beginning of the season. (Not a lot of consistency. Well, there's consistent inconsistency. This season is so far from the baseline)

And then we have Mike's monologue. Mike's monologue that brings the concept of "love saves the day" to front and center stage. And for the first time we see them completely and utterly lose.

(I'd like to say that I hate the way people say that the deaths in season 4 are Mike's fault because of the monologue. They are not his fault, he is 14 oh my god please stop putting that on him. But the loss is crucial to understanding why that baseline I was talking about is so important.)

In the first two seasons, when we were at this "baseline", the show never told us that love was going to save the day. It didn't have to tell us. It was obvious, but not in a dramatic and cheesy way. The monologue is dramatic and cheesy. It uses romance tropes that no one actually likes. It doesn't line up with any of Mike's behavior throughout the entire show. This is the first time that the show states over and over again "love is going to save the day". It's this big dramatic moment that falls flat on its face because we have never needed them to tell us this before. So why are they telling us now?

"Forced conforming. That's what's killing the kids."

For the first time, stranger things conforms to the usual dramatics of the "love saves the day" trope. And a kid literally dies.

In season one, when they find Will in the UD, we know what has led to this moment. We know that Joyce has fought her way to this moment fueled by nothing but unwavering love and an unyielding belief that her son was out there. That he was alive. Then they find him dead. But Joyce and Hopper fought for Will for that entire week, why would they stop fighting now. So Hopper starts cpr, and it's an intense moment. But it's not dramatic. It's just real, and raw. It's a mother desperately begging her son to come back to her. And Will lives.

Compare that to the dramatics of the monologue while Max is being murdered? It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened there.

El brings Max back in a quiet moment. She finds her resolve and she says "No. You're not going." And this moment feels similar to when Will was resuscitated. Lucas is sobbing and desperate for someone to help. And El helps. That moment is not a performance. No one is there to see what she does. That moment is an act of true love. It's not fueled by a dramatic monologue. It's just love. For this one moment, we come back to the baseline.

Season four was about the performance of love. And conforming to the "right way" to love. That is why they failed.

I believe that season five will see the return to this baseline that I talked about. For all the types of love we see in the show, but the one I'm focused on is romantic love. (This is not me saying that romantic love is more important, it's just the one I'm thinking about the most right now)

Because not only has the show always been about love, it's also always been about Will. It started with him; it started with the group's love for him. If love is the lifeblood of the show, Will is the heart and soul of the show. And now there has been so much attention drawn to Will's romantic love for Mike, and his desire to be loved in that same way. He is so so sad because he believes that this form of love just isn't for him. His love being requited is a satisfying ending to his arc, but is also the perfect opportunity to bring the show back to its "baseline". Will's arc concluding with his love being requited is the perfect way to drive home the message they've been sending this entire time. The heart of the show deserves to receive the love it has inspired.

Will has loved Mike. Mike has loved Will. They don't need a big dramatic confession. They just need to be honest with themselves and honest with each other. True love.

This was just a ramble so I don't really have a conclusion and I don't know if anyone will understand what I'm trying to say. But this is an aspect of the show that I absolutely adore and I am so passionate about it and I just had to talk about it.