#I also don’t know why I draw them so.. off model

[cryptcoop]

im absolutely OBSESSED goign rabid insane over how you draw venture. theyre more venture than the venture in the game. this venture is more canon than canon venture. keep it up. (if you want. draw whatever you want lol i'm not in charge of you) great job. 10/10

Thank you ! I was not expecting to like them so much but I drew them for one jokey drawing and suddenly became obsessed.

[thebestofoneshots]

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | wolfstar x reader

Pairing: R.L. x S.B. x Reader

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings: smut, threesome, finger fucking, oral (male receiving), handj*b, dry h*mping, thigh ridding, p in v, Remus is a mess, mild Dom!Remus (if you squint really hard), he might also have a praise k!nk, Sirius is a flirt (danger to humanity honestly), homoerotic scenes(?), you and Sirius can’t take your eyes off Rem, Rem can’t take his eyes off you either, consent is sexy!

Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve got an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish.

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies.” 

Remus tried not to blush at the thought of Sirius and you, naked in the centre of a room for hours on end while people stared and drew all the small details of your bodies. The details that he assumed had only been seen by the other, now he regretted not taking the class, but scolded himself out of those stupid thoughts. 

He sighed, “Ask James?” 

“Regulus’ gonna do James,” Sirius responded, “He was obviously more than thrilled to oblige him.”

“We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” 

Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, a huge smile dancing on your lips, it made you look stunning. 

He nodded, “But you’ll owe me, big one.” 

You leaned in to hug him and then Sirius did the same, both of you sandwiching Moony in between the two of you.

“Anything for Moony,” Sirius added. 

Just a few days later, you were outside of one of the classrooms. It was a smaller cosy one that tended to be used for models, with huge windows but near the top of the building so no one would be able to look inside. You had rented it for the rest of the day since both you and Sirius were determined to finish in one sitting, and neither of you was sure if Remus would subject himself to more than that either. 

“You think he’ll come?” you asked as you looked at your watch for the third time that day. 

“He’ll come, luv. Don’t worry about it.”

You sighed, Remus was seldom late. And it took you some time to convince him, you were scared he wouldn’t want to anymore. 

You were fumbling with the keys to the room, and just as you inserted them inside the keyhole, you heard a fumbling at the end of the corridor.  

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his bag hanging on the side and a coat hanging on the other side. I got held up by the traffic, “I brought the car since it said it was gonna rain, thought I could give you both a ride back, when we were done.” 

You smiled when you spotted him and flipped the keys as Sirius gave you an “I told you so look”. 

Remus was breathing heavily when he reached the two of you, “and then I couldn’t find the room, this place is a bloody maze.” 

Both you and Sirius chuckled at that. “We arrived late to our first class,” Sirius said. “The teacher told us we’d have to find our own model for being late and we made a deal to model for each other, that’s how we met.” 

“I know,” Remus said. He remembered when Sirius and you became friends, first Sirius didn’t shut up about you, then he introduced you to each other, and he understood why Sirius couldn’t shut up about you. Remus and Sirius went way back, they had been friends since elementary, along with James, Peter, Lily, Marlene and Mary. You had quickly gotten along with all of them, and they had made you a part of their little group.  

Finally, the door clicked open and you pushed on it, allowing both boys to get in before shutting it down and putting both the hand lock and the latch bolt. Remus threw you a look. “We’ve heard stories of people walking in on people painting and ruining their stuff by knocking things out. I doubt you’d want someone walking in on you.” 

Remus nodded and moved to sit on the small coach on the side. Thankfully the room was designed in a way to make models feel at ease. There was a music box where you could play tapes on the side, a sofa for them to feel comfortable, and then there was a table in the middle of the room. Both you and Sirius walked to the closet and he pulled on the easels while you went for the props you were planning to use. A small basket filled with fruits. “You brought the sheet?” 

“On my bag,” he said as he nodded to the side. 

“Kay,” you said as you leaned down to get it. 

“You may start changing Moons,” Sirius said, as the boy moved to help him with the easel. They had one in their apartment, and Remus already knew how to set it up from seeing Sirius do it so many times before. 

He swallowed and made sure to finish setting up the easel before nodding and walking towards the table. Sirius was taking off his leather jacket, and Remus attempted to ignore the way his friend’s muscles bent as he did. Sirius had always been beautiful, but this attraction he felt for his best friend was relatively new, he could barely stand it. 

You were still looking for the props when you turned around and spotted Remus pulling his soft brown jumper over his head. He wore a soft beige cotton shirt underneath it that was just a little tight over his arms. You tried not to bite your lips as you stared. Both Sirius and you had talked about how pretty you both thought Remus was, what a shame it was he wasn’t into either of you, if only you knew. 

Sirius gave you an amused look, his lips curling into a mocking smile and his brows shooting up and down. You pushed him lightly with your shoulder and walked toward the table before your cheeks warmed even further. 

“We’ll do mine first,” Remus explained, at least my sketch, Sirius’ next and then we’ll alternate. 

“You’ll do different poses?” Remus asked as he looked up at you, pulling the other shirt over his shoulders little after. Sirius tried not to laugh at the way you were looking at his friend. He had already seen how ripped Remus was, they were roommates, after all. 

“Yeah,” you responded as you got a hold of yourself. “We are gonna make it seem like we drew different people.” 

Remus nodded in response. He was slightly self-conscious about his scars, he’d gotten them as a kid in an accident. His parents were zoologists and worked with wolves, they had taken a puppy home since he was hurt, and Remus thought it was a dog. He pulled the hurt animal out of the cage to “play with it” but accidentally grabbed him from the part he’d been hurt, the animal retaliated by slashing him, face, torso, back, and legs. Remus had been 4 and had no way to defend himself, he also didn’t want to hurt the puppy so he allowed it to happen. When his parents found him, he was crying in a pool of blood, and the wolf pup had hidden somewhere in their garden. 

There was apprehension in your eyes as you stared at his scars, not because they were ugly, you thought Remus was beautiful, but because you thought of the pain they had once caused him. You cleared your throat. “I got this for you,” you explained as you showed him the basket of fruits, you had bought them all yesterday and left them in the small fridge in the room. “You’ll be holding in both of your arms, it’s like a recreation of an older painting,” you explained. 

Remus nodded, taking in the information as he fumbled with the button of his trousers. Half focused on what you said, half mortified over getting naked in front of you and Sirius. 

You pulled the basket in your hands again, “Kind of like this, okay?” you said as you grabbed the basket in the way he would be grabbing it, giving the fruits one last arrangement and taking a picture for reference in case they moved around. He gave you an understanding nod and you gave him a thumbs up in return. Sirius walked over to take Remus’ clothes from the table, and hastily dropped them over the smaller sofa, bringing over a bottle of wine, a decanter and an empty cup. 

“Our concept is based on gods, she’s going for Bacchus,” he explained, Remus was fumbling around with the trousers at the end of his feet, taking longer than he normally would to take off his clothes, Sirius obviously noticed. “She wants to capture the youth and lust of winemaking.” 

Remus gave him somewhat of a stern look and Sirius smiled cheekily in return. “And yours?” he asked. 

“Eros and Psyche,” Sirius responded with a slight tilt of his head. 

“And Psyche?” 

“Don’t worry your pretty head with it yet,” Sirius added condescendingly and got a shove from Remus in return. 

You were looking at the two of them with a smile, you’d always loved the relationship with the two, there was never a time they were more at ease than when they were with each other. 

Sirius sighed, and you smiled. Remus still felt nervous, taking his socks off and keeping his boxers on as he waited for new instructions. Sirius gave him a look as he sat on the window just behind you, and your easel, looking at how you sharpened your pencils and charcoal for sketching. “Would you help me pose him?” You asked, turning your head slightly to Sirius before focusing again on your pencils and canvas, taking a ruler to break down the piece into smaller squares to make sure you got your proportions right. 

Sirius nodded, jumped down from the window seal and picked up the white sheet he’d brought from his backpack. 

“Time to take them off, mate,” he said. Remus swallowed and nodded, taking off his boxers carefully and throwing them in the same direction Sirius had thrown the rest of his clothes. Then he placed his hand over himself and stared in between you and Sirius nervously. You were still focused on your canvas, so you didn’t quite see the interaction, but Sirius did and smiled. He had the inkling little feeling that maybe Remus was into you. He had told you about it but you had shrugged it off, Remus had become something like your best friend, there was no way. 

But Sirius had known Remus for longer than you did, and he knew his friend like he knew the back of his hand –and boy he knew that one well from seeing it so much while painting. And the nervous glances Remus kept throwing your way, made him feel a little more confident of his theory. Perhaps all the two of you needed was a little push, and then that one recurring dream he had could become a reality.

Sirius extended the sheet over Remus and placed it on his arms, just falling off the shoulders like some kind of shawl, he then accommodated the sheet covering one of his legs and his private parts. Remus seemed reassured by that, and Sirius again, tried not to smile knowingly. He then passed Remus the basket and helped him accommodate it in place.

“It's not too heavy is it?” 

“Not right now,” Remus said as he held it between his hands. Sirius then proceeded to place his hands on Remus’ bare back and traced his fingers over his friend’s muscles in a reassuring and discreet manner, giving a light squeeze near his neck. 

“Relax,” he said as he looked at the boy. Sirius had no idea how little relaxing that devious smile of his was, Remus’ skin burned at his touch. “Lean your head back a little bit, would you?” Remus swallowed and did as told, anything to have Sirius step away before he noticed the things he was actually doing to him. “A little bit more,” Sirius insisted and placed his hand on the boy’s neck. Allowing it to linger as he moved him around as he pleased. 

“Hey Angel,” he called, and you looked up, smiling at the sight of the two boys, “Is this all right?” 

“Come here,” you told Sirius, he finally let go of Rem and walked towards you, standing just behind the easel just at your side. “What do you think? Isn’t he a little too stiff?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius responded. 

“Thought so,” you breathed and left your pencil and charcoal on the easel before walking towards Remus. “Close your eyes, would you?” you asked softly. Remus hesitated before doing what told. “Take a deep breath for me, good, that’s good… Remember that time you told me about your trip to Dover? You told me you climbed to the very top of the castle, that it was freezing cold and that no one but you had been brave enough to climb up to the roof. It was empty but there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. So thin that when you pressed your feet, it melted away allowing you to see the stone. 

“You mentioned you leaned over the edges and got to see the castle, the grounds and then, then you got to see the ocean.” Remus' tense self was slowly starting to subdue. “You said you could hear the distant waves, and then you felt a small prickle in your cheek.” 

“It started snowing,” Remus said softly. 

You smiled, took a grape from his basket and placed it near his mouth, pushing it in between his lips. He opened his mouth when he felt the fruit and ate it with a frown, opening his eyes to look at it, and then at you. You were so bloody close to him. 

“There you go,” you said with a smile. “Much better now, keep that relaxed face of yours so I can paint it, will you?” you added teasingly. Remus was munching on the grape with a confused and yet amused face. You gave him a short wink and then went back to your spot, missing the slight flush that coated his cheek. 

“Comfortable?” Sirius teased. 

Remus threw him a look and you swatted Sirius with your pencil softly. “Stop teasing him, he’ll tense again,” you scolded. Remus couldn’t help but smile at the small interaction between the two and you finished up with the sharpening, picking up the pencil and starting to sketch. Remus let his head fall back as you traced, closing his eyes and changing his stance every once in a while, pulling his head off and watching you knit your brows together as you moved your pencil over the canvas. 

“You’re getting the proportions wrong,” Sirius said. “His hand is bigger than that.” 

You grumbled in return, “I know! I just–“ you pulled an eraser and started to furiously move it over the canvas, Remus was looking at the two of you carefully. “I can’t get it to work out.” 

“Want help?” 

“You can’t keep helping me when I don’t get the hands right…” 

“Why not? You always help me with light and shadow, you’re an expert.” 

You sighed, “It’s not the same Sirius.” 

“Yes it is,” he said in a no-nonsense kind of way, then he placed his hand over yours, and started guiding your sketch. “Come on, loosen up.” 

Meanwhile, Remus was looking at the domestic scene between the two with a mix of admiration and longing. The two of you looked stunning as you painted him, both deeply focused on the canvas, with a casual glance straight at his hand holding the basket, he smiled as he saw Sirius lean even closer to you, obviously unnecessary but something Sirius did often anyway. He had never seen his friend as smitten with a human as he had seen him with you. 

Eventually, Sirius let go of your hand and you added a few other touches. “Do you want to start painting or should I start with my sketch first?” he asked. 

You turned your head and stared at the cloudy sky, “I’ll use the sunlamp for my lighting, we can do yours if you want, that way you take advantage of natural light for your drawing.”

He nodded, “Okay, get ready, I’ll work on the canvas.” 

You sent him a short wink and he walked behind his easel. Remus took the time to put down the basket and accommodate the sheet around him a little better. “Cold?” you asked, “we can turn off the AC.” He shook his head. Just self-conscious then, you realised. Well, he won’t have to worry too much about that.

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 

“You what?” 

“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. Naked grandma. NAKED GRANDMA. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?” 

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it. Sirius on the other hand, smirked and walked over to the two of you, “Alright mate, time to lose the sheet,” he said as he pulled the one thing covering Remus’ body. While Rem shot to cover himself, Sirius gave you a look and then winked. 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you tilted your head, what the hell are you up to, pretty boy?

“Okay, Moony. I need you to sit on the table.” Remus did as told, “Now open your legs a little bit.” Remus gave a stern look to Sirius but did as told, still using his hands to cover himself. “Please Rem,” he added, “I’ll show you mine and you’ll show me yours? Take those hands off, would you? We’ve both seen plenty of dicks already.” 

You were looking at Remus’ clavicle as he did, trying to avoid the spot that made him so self-conscious, but Sirius was way bolder than that, and he stared straight at his friend’s cock instead. Was that a twitch? Sirius smiled, bit his lip, and turned back to you. 

“You’ll be in between his legs, he’ll have his arms around your arms and his head on your shoulder, is that okay?” 

“Okay,” you said simply. Now, had it been any other person, perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the pose, but this was Remus, you trusted Remus. 

Remus, who realised there was no use in arguing, did what Sirius had described, leaning forward so you wouldn’t have to stand so close to him. He tried to avoid his chest brushing into yours, ever the gentleman. Anyone else might have just taken advantage. 

Sirius nodded and walked behind his easel again, “Luv, hide your head on his neck, okay?” 

“Mhm,” you said and did as told. Being so close to Remus was making you feel things. He was really warm and strong. You enjoyed the way he held you, Sirius could tell. He also knew you as the back of his hand. 

“Would you mind leaning in a little closer to him?” 

You nodded and did as told. Now your chest was brushing against his, Remus could feel your hardened nipples against his chest, the tip of his ears was now red, even if a good deal of blood was going south. You assumed it was due to embarrassment. 

Sirius had already started to draw, and you decided you’d try and ease him, you bent your elbows and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, allowing his grip to become a lot more secure, “It's okay,” you whispered. “Sirius is way faster at sketching than me, he’ll be over in a second. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” 

“No, I’m sorry for making this so awkward,” he said softly. “I bet you are used to this and I’m making it weird.” 

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 

“I only agreed to Sirius’ pose when he proposed it because you’d be the male model. I don’t like modelling so close to other people.” 

Remus sighed, closing his eyes, his cock was already half hard, and here you were talking to him about trusting him to be the male model, he was a total dick. 

“Luv, lean in a little closer would you?” Sirius asked. 

Remus didn’t even have enough time to give Sirius a warning glance since you confidently did as told, and that’s when you felt it: hard, brushing just under your belly button. You pulled apart just for a second and looked down.

He is huge.

Remus was beet red and staring at Sirius with a mix of exasperation, embarrassment, and anguish. But neither of you seemed to mind, you just pulled your hips slightly back and went back to the previous pose, your nipples brushing against his chest again and making his boner grow even more. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured, “It’s actually quite normal, you’d be surprised how many times it happens.” 

Remus had his eyes closed shut and was trying not to think, not of your soft chest against him, not of your soft breath fanning against his skin, and certainly not of how close your pussy was to his dick. 

You could tell how much more tense he was now. “Do you want to take a break?” 

“No,” he said quickly. “Let’s just get over with it.” The last thing Remus needed was to take a break only for it to happen again the minute your skin came into contact with his. 

“Are you sure? You’re a lot more tense now, Moons,” you said with a frown as you gently brushed your hand on his soft back, tracing a finger over one of his scars without quite realising you were doing it. 

He shook his head, “No, it’s okay.” 

“Remus–“ Sirius started. 

“It won’t work,” he snapped a little harsher now. 

Sirius’s perspicacious look turned into a smirk, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He gently placed his pencil on the easel and walked over to Remus. “Why not Moony?” 

“Sorry?” He asked, nervous. You felt him tense even further and pulled back, he got a glimpse of your breasts again and he only became harder. 

“Sirius, you’re making him more nervous,” you added with a frown, your hand still brushing reassuringly on his back. 

“No,” he replied, and focused his gaze back on Remus. “I want to know why it wouldn’t work.” 

Remus grabbed the basket that was still lying around and placed it over his lap, covering his ever-growing boner. 

“You don’t have to respond to that, Rem.” 

“He does,” Sirius insisted. 

Remus looked at Sirius in disbelief before huffing. “You’re making your bloody gorgeous girlfriend, pose with me and hug me, and lay her head on my shoulder, all while naked. And you’re looking at us, with that, piercing fucking gaze of yours while you do. A break is not going to help because you’ll make us do it again!” 

Sirius still had a stern face on, but you noticed the small twist on his lips, he was holding back a smirk. 

“Sirius,” you warned. 

“No,” he said and focused on Remus again. “Remus, you think my girlfriend’s gorgeous?” 

“Everyone thinks your girlfriend’s gorgeous.”

“No, Remus. Do you think she is?” 

Remus avoided Sirius’ gaze, red with embarrassment and anger. More at himself than anyone else. His jaw was clenched and his eyes squeezed shut. 

Sirius threw you an amused look and you gave him an impatient one. You could tell he was playing with Moony and you didn’t like it one bit. Sirius, though, wasn’t one to stop things so easily, and he pulled you softly from your spot in between his legs and took it, placing both hands on Remus’ shoulders who just tensed even further. He leaned closer to his ear, “I’m asking you something, Remus.” 

Remus didn’t reply, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were about to pull Sirius back but he spoke again, “I’m asking because–” he tone was softer, the threatening tone from earlier fading into a more lewd one, “It’s okay of you do,” he whispered, and then pressed his lips to Remus’ tense shoulder. Remus’s eyes snapped open and he spotted you, you gave him a short smile, and then he felt Sirius’s lips pressed against him again, “because we both have the hots for you as well,” Sirius mumbled against his skin.

Remus swallowed thickly at that, and you could feel a familiar pulsing between your legs.

Remus pushed Sirius off, the other boy just stared at his friend with a smile, “don’t play with me, Black!” he warned, angry and steady. 

“He’s not,” you interceeded. Sirius was a flirt, it was hard to believe him sometimes, but for you, who had been with him for a while, it was easy to see the shine in his eyes when he saw Remus, it wasn’t there when he saw other men. You walked over to Sirius and took hold of his arm, laying your head gently on his shoulder and allowing your entire front to be exposed to Remus. “The question is, Remus, do you like us back?” 

Remus’ breath was caught in his throat, he wasn’t sure what to respond, could he even?

“And what does that mean?” 

You shot Sirius a glance, there was a silent understanding between the two of you, a small nod from Sirius, and you walked closer to Remus, “It means we like hanging out with you,” you said softly and took a step towards him, “It means we like having you around, It means we like it when your eyes brighten as you speak of a new book you love and it means we love the way your hair falls on your face when you forget your umbrella and you borrow one of ours.” You were dangerously close to him now, “It means we like it when you stand close to us, it means we would like to touch you,” you placed a hand on his leg, and traced from his knee to the thick of his muscle, and left it there while making soft circles with your thumb. 

“It means when we invited you to model for us we were being selfish, we wanted to have more of you than we normally did,” Sirius said, also walking closer, “It means I specifically had to wear bigger pants because I knew the moment I saw you naked along with her, my mind would roam, and take me back to my dreams.” 

“Your dreams?” Remus asked as he gulped, gaze darting between your hand on his leg and Sirius approaching both of you.

“Our dreams,” you interceeded, having him turn back to look at your face. “The question is, Remus–“ You grabbed onto the basket and started to drag it away from him. “Do you want us? Or is this just a natural reaction?” you asked, nodding back to his hard cock, trying not to lick your lips as you did. 

Sirius still hadn’t touched Remus, but he was standing so close he’d only have to lean in to kiss the boy’s neck. “I–“ Remus hesitated, and looked at Sirius, trying to find confirmation. He could barely believe what was going on, perhaps he had fallen asleep on your shoulder and this was just a figment of his eager imagination. 

Sirius smiled and nodded down. His pants were big, but not big enough to hide the tent that had formed in his pants. Remus swallowed again. By now you had already discarded the basket of fruit, a couple of them rolling out and scattering on the floor with a loud thud. None of the three seemed to hear it, all of your gazes were firmly set on each other. 

“It is real, Remus,” you said and leaned close enough to kiss his neck near the spot Sirius had kissed initially. You had wanted to do that while Sirius was sketching the two of you, and you took the chance to finally do it. Still, neither you nor Sirius had touched Remus’ cock, you wanted him to say yes before you did something irreparable. But unlike Sirius, you didn’t leave your kiss as a small innocent one, instead, you opened your mouth to his skin and started licking and sucking lightly. 

A strangled moan escaped Remus’ lips. and you smiled, continuing to kiss him in the same way, eager to hear the sound again.

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sirius asked, voice raspy and low from how turned on he was at the sight of the two of you. 

Remus let out a soft scoff, and then he pulled you from his neck, he hated the disappointed glance you had as he held your face in between his hands. Your eyes were blown with lust and your lips were wet from the kiss. 

You swallowed, ready to pull apart but Remus dragged your head towards his and leaned in just enough to plant a desperate kiss on your lips. You were surprised at first but quickly melted into him, moaning as he dragged his demanding tongue over your lips, which only fueled him further, he wanted to hear those sounds, he wanted to hear the both of you make those sounds over and over again until he was deafened by them. 

“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled apart, panting for air and dropping smaller kisses around your face, “bloody hell yes!” he insisted. 

Sirius leaned in, and whispered on Moony’s ear, “Should have told us earlier.”  He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, but quickly moved down to kiss the boys jaw, “We’ve been dreaming about you for months.” 

“Imagine my surprise when Sirius woke me up, panting your name,” you said, “I thought it was a nightmare until I felt how hard he was.” 

Remus sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder as Sirius continued to kiss him, you took that as an opportunity to place your hand on his back again, allowing your fingers to feel and touch every single part of him that you hadn’t been able to touch earlier, and that you found absolutely stunning. 

Another moan escaped Remus’ mouth when he felt your hand on his back, and Sirius smiled, the wicked smile of his and he pulled apart from his neck and easily sat on the table before moving behind Remus in a kneeling position, taking both of his shoulder and pulling him back from the hunch he’d been on. The sight of both boys almost set you on fire, Sirius noticed, he noticed almost everything. 

“Moony, love,” he said as he leaned into the boy’s neck and allowed his hand to softly massage Remus’ back muscles, “Isn’t she stunning?” 

You threw Sirius an inquisitive look and he just winked, he seemed to always know what to do. 

“She is,” Remus breathed, eyes hooded as he allowed Sirius to touch him, clearly lost on him. 

Sirius smiled, “I want you to touch her,” he said with a smirk, “touch her like you wanted to touch her when I was drawing the two of you behind the easel. I saw you looking at her, I saw the way your hands fought to stay in place.” 

“Sirius,” Remus warned. 

But Sirirus’ smirk only grew wider, he knew his words were sending both you and Remus into a state of absolute frenzy, all he’d have to do was push you into each other, “Touch her, I know she wants it as much as you do.” 

Remus was hesitant, but he placed his hand on your shoulder and dragged you closer to the two of them in a soft pull. You looked up at him and smiled, squaring your shoulders and allowing him to see your almost throbbing nipples, desperate to be touched, and to be held by either of the two. 

He was slow and hesitant, allowing his hand to fall from your shoulder to your arms, and then to your waist, and to the small of your back. Sirius placed a soft kiss just over Remus’ ear and then whispered, “Touch her, Remus, touch the place you’ve wanted to touch since you saw that little black bra of hers that makes me lose my mind.”

Remus breathed, he remembered the little piece perfectly, he allowed his hand to drag up, and let his thumb rest right under your breast, feeling the soft bounce of it and gently rubbing underneath, an innocent touch, almost a graze, nothing in comparison to the way Sirius would sometimes grab at them, and yet, it was just making you wetter. “Remus,” you whined as you leaned your head on his free shoulder. That seemed to be the fuel he needed to drag his hand even further up and allow his thumb to brush against your nipple. You clenched against nothing as he did, and moaned. He had a small scar tracing just around his thumb, the feeling of textures against your skin dragging you to heaven.

Sirius smiled at your reactions and started to kiss his neck. Which had Remus’ head tilt back in pleasure. That’s when you leaned your hand down again, eager to feel him, you were gentle and decided to give him enough time to stop you if he wanted, but the slow massaging of your hand towards his cock was only making Remus grow harder, a small droplet of precum already coming from his tip. He hadn’t even dared to dream of such a moment, and here you were, making it happen. When your hand finally wrapped around him he let out a breathy moan, his hand on your breast tightening. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

“May I?” you asked softly. 

“Please,” he managed to say, Sirius chuckled at his neediness but Remus was quicker and pulled on his hair to drag him to his mouth. The longer-haired boy was surprised at first but quickly smirked into Remus’ demanding kiss, swallowing all the moans that would leave him as you slowly brushed your fingers over his cock. First, tracing a thin line from the bottom to the top, right over the pulsing vein. And then you wrapped your hand around him, firm but gentle, and rubbed the tip with your thumb. 

Sirius pulled from the kiss that Remus chased into just to let you hear his moans and whispered, “Do you hear that, love?” he said as he placed a hand on Remus’ neck to keep his desperate lips from crashing against his mouth again. “You’re turning him into an animal.” 

“We are,” you responded and tightened your grip around him, starting only now to gently stroke. You got to hear another moan from Moony before Sirius returned to kiss him. You leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder again, that place proving to be one of your favourite sports of the night, and started to trace kisses up his neck. You could feel his reactions in the way he would sometimes squeeze your breasts a little harder, or when he moved his hand down your waist. “And he makes such lovely sounds, doesn’t he?” 

Sirius hummed in return, not daring to tear his lips away from the kiss. 

Then you reached Remus’ ear. “If only you knew how wet you’re making me,” you whispered, a sly, fox-like smile appearing on your lips. Sirius threw you a side glance in between kisses and raised one of his eyebrows at you. 

“Show him then,” he said before going back to kiss Remus, but using one of his hands to place it on the boy’s waist. “Pull back a little, Moons.” 

Remus did as told, giving you enough space to be able to climb into the table as well, both legs on either side of one of his, and then slowly you let yourself down onto him, sighting at the feeling of his muscles against your sex. Remus gave you an encouraging squeeze on the waist, and that was enough for you to start grinding yourself onto his leg. Somehow, you managed to maintain the strokes on his cock as you rubbed onto him. 

“Do you feel that, love?” Sirius asked as he broke the kiss to have the two of them look at you. You had your eyes closed and were focused on both your hips and hand movements. You felt Remus’ cock twitch, but you didn’t know it had been because he was looking at you. “Do you feel how wet you’ve made her?” 

Remus looked at his glistening leg as you slid down and then up again, firmly pressing yourself against him, even if it was hard with the position you were in. He flexed his muscles and he felt your hand tremble in his cock, “She’s so pretty, Pads. You get to see her like this all the time?” 

Sirius chuckled and decided to kiss Remus’ neck, so they could both continue delighting at the sight of you riding his leg. Remus seemed hesitant at first, but he dragged his hand down to your waist and towards your leg. Clearly giving in to the temptation to touch.

“Go ahead, she likes it,” Sirius encouraged in a chuckle and Remus didn’t think twice. You stiffened when you felt his hand brush against you as you pushed yourself into him, now opening your eyes to figure out whose hand had been bold enough. You smirked when you realised who it had been. 

“Still curious?” you asked and pushed yourself towards his hand again. 

Remus didn’t speak, instead, he focused on brushing his fingers over your folds which had you sight in content. But Remus was slightly hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to touch you properly. When Sirius realised the lack of moans, he decided he’d help. He placed a quick kiss on Remus’ temple and then moved behind him again. Allowing one of his hands to rest on Moony’s neck and then using the other to trace his arm until he reached the hesitant hand still brushing against your sensitive spots. 

“Like this,” he said as he took hold of his hand and started making his movements more determined. You moaned at the new, more purposeful touch, and Sirius’ smirk grew. “Slow and determined,” he instructed. Remus himself found your clit after that, and he gently pressed his finger over it, testing. 

“Fuck do that again,” you managed to whisper as you leaned your head on his shoulder again, Sirius placed a soft comforting kiss on your temple, your hands on Remus’ cock becoming dumber as the pleasure consumed you. 

Remus did as told, and you moved your hips towards his fingers almost instinctively. “Such a fast learner,” Sirius praised, and you’d swear you saw Remus inflate slightly at his words. 

“Yeah, Moony!” you sighed, voice mellow, something in between words and a moan. “You’re amazing,” you added as you kissed his neck, chasing all the way to his mouth. The hand that Sirius used to teach him, had long forgotten its purpose and had somehow found its way to your breast, pinching and squeezing like he knew you loved. His lips glued to Moony’s neck in the meantime. 

Moony pressed a tentative finger to your entrance, you smiled into the kiss, and pushed into him, he bit your lips as his finger dug inside you, “Fuck,” he whispered into your mouth, “so tight.” You clenched around him, as you pulled from the kiss and brushed the tip of his cock with your thumb, you were eager to hear another one of those melodic moans of his. And you did, reeling on the power he had given you before going back to kiss him. 

“She is Moony, it’ll feel insane around your cock too, I promise,” Sirius whispered to his ear. If you had been thinking properly, you might have swatted him for assuming how things would end, but the idea of having Remus’ cock inside of you only made you wetter, your hips chasing his finger a little more desperate as you used it to chase your own pleasure. 

Remus used his free hand to take yours from his cock and placed it on his shoulder since he knew that would help you be a little more steady, he missed your touch, but the moans he pulled from you were enough compensation. He went for another finger and you moaned at how much more full you felt. Remus had longer fingers than Sirius did, and the scars added a layer of textures that you had never felt before but that you could easily get used to. 

His touch was much more curious and soft than Sirius’ had been the first time, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t aiding you into a state of absolute bliss. Sirius, ever the clever, figured out you were close in a second. He pulled Moony deeper into the table, pulling you along with him, took off his shirt and moved behind you. Both of his tights around yours, Moony’s in between. He pressed himself onto you allowing you to feel his warm and slightly sweaty skin. You could feel his boner pressing onto your ass which had you sight in pleasure. 

“How’s that, my love,” he said. “Do you like having Moony’s hand all over you? His fingers inside?” 

“Sirius,” you sighed. His hands were now on your hips, helping you ride Moony’s fingers with much more ease. Moony’s fingers got faster, and you could feel Sirius holding back from dry humping you from behind, his hips sometimes chasing against your ass, you had neglected him a little. “Like that,” you managed to whisper once Remus did a particular movement, a flick of his finger, and he instantly repeated it. 

“She’s close Moony,” Sirius warmed as he felt you tense, he moved his hands on your body reassuringly, but in the way that he knew you loved, you tensed, tightening around Remus’ fingers, and then let out a long, and quiet moan. “There you go,” Sirius added softly as he brushed his fingers over your leg, both of them helping you ride down from your high. Eventually, Remus took his fingers from inside you and placed a reassuring hand on your leg. You closed your eyes, head still pressed onto his shoulder as you breathed in, Remus had always smelled delightful, but you’d swear he smelled even better today.

You then reached your hand down but Sirius beat you to it, “My turn,” he said as he pushed you closer to Remus and took a hold of his cock. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Remus with a smile, knowing well his answer. 

Remus gulped and shook his head, which had Sirius smile like a wolf and start playing around with his friend’s cock. He clearly knew what he was doing much better than you did since he had Remus panting and moaning a lot faster than you had. He also had you firmly pressed against Remus as he touched him, if you had wanted to –which you obviously didn’t– you wouldn’t be likely to get out in between the two. Still, you busied yourself with kissing Remus’ neck again, that spot that you seemed to be addicted to.

Remus sighed, and you started to brush your hands all over his body, moaning and grunting growing louder. Sirius felt his friend’s cock twitch in his hand and he knew he was close, so he stopped. Remus gave him a pleading look but he pulled his hand back completely and the you along with him. You didn’t realise what was going on until you saw Remus’ throbbing cock and confused look. 

“Sirius!” you reprimanded. Remus seemed to be struggling to form proper words. 

“He won’t get to fuck you if he comes into my hand,” Sirius responded then leaned his head into your shoulder and looked at Remus with a knowing pout. “Would you rather come into my hand than feel her tight little pussy around you, Moons?” 

Remus scoffed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting by getting sexually involved with Sirius Black, but he should have fucking expected this kind of behaviour.

Sirius smiled, “How about we help him cool down a little but keep him hard, darling?” 

You leaned your head back onto Sirius, opening your legs a little for Remus to get a better view of your glistening sex. “What do you like, Remus?” You asked in the most innocent tone. As if you were asking about the taste of ice cream he preferred and not the kind of shit that turned him on. 

But frankly, neither you nor Sirius would have to do anything special to turn him on, he already pretty much worshipped you. Remus was still at a loss of words, he stared at both of you, then down between your legs and then up at your faces again. 

“Do you want me to eat her out?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head. 

“Or would you rather see me blow him?” 

“Cowgirl?” 

“Doggie?” 

Remus was sure that if you didn’t stop you, you might just list the entire kamasutra before he made a choice, “anything.” 

You tsked and shook your head, “No, Moons, that’s not the deal,” you replied. “What do you want?” 

Again, he saw you tense and relax between your legs as you asked him, and he didn’t miss the smirk that drew on your lips when he started. “I want” –he hesitated– “touch him.” 

“Your wish is my command,” you said with a smirk and instantly turned to Sirius, making sure to have him spin around enough so that you wouldn’t have Remus just look at your back, although he would have been more than happy staring at the way your ass moved. 

“Did you hear that, Pads?” 

Sirius hummed in response as he helped you accommodate, you were now cradling him. You first went for a kiss, soft, but demanding, as you two kissed, you lowered one of your hands and gripped Sirius over his pants. He moaned into your mouth and you pulled back from the kiss, no matter how addictive his lips were, you wanted Remus to hear his precious moans as well. 

Remus’ hands were itching to go back to his cock when he heard Sirius’ moan. He was too pretty, both of you were, he could still barely believe what was happening, but he sure loved every bit of it. “Help me get this off,” you said as you turned to Remus and pressed your hands onto Sirius’ belt. 

He raised his eyebrows amused and you gave him a short wink. He did as told. Leaning in closer and unbuckling the belt before sliding it off Sirius who was a moaning mess since your hand was still on him. Once Remus managed to move the button off, you were quick to digg your hand in and Sirius raised his hips a little to take it off along with his boxers. 

Remus’ cock twitched when he saw Sirius’ hard and proud. He wanted to touch it as much as he wanted to see you touch it, but he wasn’t sure Sirius would want him to touch it so instead he moved his desperate hand to the boy’s neck. You smiled at that and brushed yourself against him, passing his cock over your folds a few times to coat him with your wetness before gripping at him securely. 

“Sto–p teasing,” Sirius managed to say, and you laughed, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before wrapping your hand around him and starting to stroke. Remus seemed fascinated by the way you moved your hand on Pads, like you knew exactly what he wanted when he moaned or moved his hips slightly to the side. At some point Sirius started to chase your hand with his hips as well but Remus placed his hand on his legs to keep him down. Sirius turned to the boy with a frown and Remus smirked.

“I said I wanted her to touch you, not for you to fuck her hand,” he replied in a low tone. 

You giggled at the stifled moan that left Sirius’ lips when Moony said that, and continued with your strokes, turning your wrist so you had a bit more control and toying with the tip whenever your thumb got close enough to it. 

“Close,” Sirius breathed and you smiled, looking at Moony with a small smirk before pulling back a little from both of them but still stroking. Then you pulled further down and Sirius almost came in your hands at the mere image of what you were about to do. You pressed a kiss to kiss your stomach, and gently lowered down, allowing your nipples to brush over his cock causing him to shudder. 

You licked your lips before going down and pressing a soft and gentle kiss over his tip, you could feel the blood rushing and his cock twitching. You then pressed your tongue to him and Sirius let out a low, almost imperceptible groan. The first, soft splurt of his cum fell on the outside of your mouth before you wrapped your lips around him and sucked the rest of him dry. By the time you were done, Sirius was panting and gripping onto Remus’ leg as he attempted to catch a breath. You raised yourself back up to look at them both. 

You opened your mouth to show you had yet to swallow it all and then turned to Remus, “Want a taste?” 

Sirius was already sore, and yet when Moony nodded and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, he swore he felt himself twitch again. In a matter of seconds, you had climbed onto his lap, leaning into the kiss and only pulling apart to see his reaction, a line of spit still connected the two of you as smirked. 

“Fuck,” Sirius said in a low moan at the sight. 

“How was it?” you asked as you bit your lip. 

Remus tilted his head and dragged your hips to his, “Is not over yet, is it?” 

“I meant the taste,” you replied as you rolled your hips on his cock. 

He licked his lips, and laid his head on your shoulder as he looked at Sirius. “Fucking delicious,” he said.

You pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Bet,” you added before rolling your hips against his again. “Ready?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good,” you said, and then lifted yourself, brushing on his cock a couple of times before bringing your hand down to it, brushing his tip on you, making sure to brush your clit, and then slowly, sinking yourself onto him.

You breathed out as you did, getting used to his size, and he waited patiently for you to finish. 

“You all right?” he asked softly. 

You let out a breathy “Yeah.” 

“Tell me when I can start moving.” You squeezed your walls around him. “Fuck–“ 

Sirius laughed from the side and placed a hand on Remus’ arm, “Did I not mention she has a tendency to do that? I almost came the first time she did it to me.” 

You squeezed again and then started to move, slow and steady at first, Remus was a groaning mess again and it only fueled your resolve to continue moving and squeezing, eventually, his hips started thrusting up into yours and your movements seemed to synchronise. 

“Touch her too,” Sirius suggested and Remus did as told, quickly bringing one the hands that rested on your waist to your clit. You started to roll your hips so you could increase the pressure and he helped by moving his finger closer. 

“Is that good?” 

“Fuck yes,” you responded. 

You continued for a while, and you felt Remus get extremely close, if his moaning indicated anything but then he stopped thrusting into you and you slowed your pace with a questioning frown. 

“Can…” he panted. “Can I try something?” 

You nodded in return and Remus smiled, he pulled you up with his hands on your waist –his cock still inside you– and flipped you around, now your back was laying on Sirius’ chest and you could feel his semi-hard on your ass. 

“Moony what are you–“ he started but was shut up by a kiss as he thrusted into you. Both the kiss and your asscheeks brushing onto him had Sirius harden even more as Remus thrust in and out of you. 

“Touch her the way she likes,” he said to Sirius in between kisses and the other boy did exactly that, chasing in between the entanglement of bodies until he found your clit, tentatively, he brushed his hand down to feel where Remus and your body connected and Remus moaned at the feeling of Sirius’ hands on him again. “I said touch her,” he added with a sigh, “I want her to come again.” 

Sirius smiled and pressed a short kiss to Remus’ lips. “Your wish is my command.” 

Seconds later Sirius’ expert fingers were on you, brushing and circling your clit the way that made you brainless, your ass pressed onto his cock and Remus rutting into you quickly made you feel absolute bliss. 

“I’m about to–“ 

“She as well,” Sirius said as he felt the way you moved on top of him. 

Remus reeled at the thought and groaned out as he started to come, he tried to pull out but Sirius was quick to keep him in place. “She’s taking something,” he said simply, and that was enough for Remus to allow your walls to milk him. As he did, Sirius was fast with his hand and you were cumming on Remus’ cock, squeezing him even more as his pace started to slow down. 

Sirius, who was already sore, came for the second time that night a little after, surprising you since you were not expecting to feel the sticky wetness against your ass. 

Remus felt it too, since part of it spluttered all the way to his legs and he looked at Sirius with a mildly impressed stare. 

“You two are fucking hot,” he said, unapologetically. Remus pushed into you a couple more times and then he allowed his weight to fall on both of you. 

“Too heavy?” he managed to ask. 

“No,” you said as you accommodated your head next to Sirius’ and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. He sighed in contentment.  

Eventually, Remus drew himself out of you and then pulled back from his position on top and instead laid with his back against the table. He bit his lip, “I guess you’ll have to find another model.” 

“No way in hell we’re ever gonna look for another model,” you said with a laugh, also rolling from Sirius and letting yourself fall right in between the two of them, “Moony’s just perfect, isn’t he?” 

“Thought you couldn’t paint someone you’d fucked…” he breathed. 

Sirius laughed, “Well, they don’t have to know we’re a thing…” 

Remus felt so many emotions at once, you were a thing, but also Sirius doesn't want people to know.

“…until after we’ve handed in the paintings, and gotten our grades,” he added with a cheeky smile. 

“Besides, the sun is gone,” you added. “We’ll have to come back another day.”

“Didn’t you mention a sunlamp or something?” Remus asked.

“We’ll have to come another day,” you repeated with a smirk. And Remus gave you an impressed look. 

“Do you guys have anything to do?” Sirius asked.

You shook your head and Remus said a quick “No.”

“Why?” you asked.

“I think Prongs is sleeping over at Reggie’s.” 

“Is he now?” Remus questioned. 

“I thought we could have a sleepover of our own.” 

You scoffed a laugh, of sleep, it wouldn’t have much.

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Read more Marauders Fiction

[yamujiburo]

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

[starmocha]

sylus, zayne and caleb: who asks mc for nudes the most?

especially when she's away on training? or on a mission?

who's needier? (personal opinion is zayne would behave but then he'd break and i mean *break* and request the filthiest pics/videos. but then again caleb is a puppy. sylus has self control but as his heatwave secret time showed us, he can be very very veeeeery needy)

do you think they keep all the pics/vídeos or delete them with a heavy heart out of fear of their phones getting stolen and exposing mc to some lowlife unworthy of even mentioning her name?

what about pics/vídeos during sex? we already know sylus and mc are making their little vídeos, but I think sylus also has a polaroid collection of mc under him, on top, on all fours--he gets addicted to the way she looks while he's inside her

caleb would totally be into recording too

zayne's trickier, I think

mc would probably have to initiative the pic taking event lmao it'd have to be when things are innocent enough and she's saying she just wants some cute pics of him

she riles him up so much that he snaps a pic at the exact moment she's got his entire lenght in her mouth and is looking up at him and he says he wants some cute pics too

but I don't know, would love to hear your opinion if you're not to busy

sincerely,

an anon who's in the middle of a very stupid work conference and is very bored ☺️

😭 oh this was a good one to think about. …I don’t know why I wrote it like this, but let’s just roll with it lol

Personally, I don’t think any of them will ask directly for nudes. They’re all gentlemen. Of course, they wouldn’t be opposed if they’re offered some instead.

Video Call

Sylus is so tech-savvy, we’re not discussing that enough. He would for sure have a secret encrypted folder full of sexy photos and videos for his own personal viewing pleasure. His collection consists of all the ways he would take her and capturing her face at the exact moment she has an orgasm. After all, he doesn’t think it’s fair that only he sees it. He wants her to also see what she looks like as she comes around him. OK, my mind wandered a little too much this afternoon…this has nothing to do with what I had written above, but…squint and maybe it does…

Thinking of Sylus away on some hush-hush “business” trip. It’s been hard getting in contact with him. Perhaps there are no signals where he’s at.

The one evening she decides to break out her favorite “toy”, she gets a call from Crow Man himself, but it’s not just any call. He wants to video chat. Embarrassed, she quickly puts on a robe and tries to act normal as she answers his call.

He raises a brow, both confused and amused by what he is seeing. “Why is your face so red?”

She lies and says she had just finished doing some cardio exercises.

He calls her out on her bullshit. At that moment, they hear a faint buzzing noise in the background.

Shit. She forgot to turn the toy off before answering the call. With him watching knowingly, she has no choice but to confess.

“Really? A toy will get you off better than me?” He’s skeptical that she can be fully satisfied by a toy.

Indignant, she tells him that she already had two orgasms before he called.

Amused and intrigued, he challenges her to test it out in front of him. He would love to be proven wrong.

She’s caught off guard by his comment. Even more embarrassed, she asks meekly, “A-are you asking me to…in front of you?”

He nods and crosses his arms. “Unless you don’t think you can—”

“Fine!” She knows he is riling her up on purpose, but the mere idea of having him watch her is oddly arousing.

After finding a way to position the phone so he can see her perfectly, she disrobes and picks up the toy again. Sylus wouldn’t exactly say he is an expert on the different models of toys available, so he watches with intrigue as she positions the small toy, and the moment she feels it pulsing against her, she gasps, still sensitive from her previous climaxes.

Sylus draws in his own breath, silently cursing that he’s not in the same room with her right now. He watches in amazement as she shows off the different settings. Quick short bursts. Long, dragged out pulsing.

But her favorite? It’s the one that vibrates steadily and every few seconds, it sends a powerful pulse that has her arching, crying out. She maximizes the strength, and Sylus is getting hard at hearing how powerful the toy is, watching with darkened eyes as she loses herself, forgetting him and is entirely focused on chasing her next climax. With the way her clit is stimulated so heavenly, she isn’t even aware that Sylus had started his own fun, his hand wrapped around his large length as he strokes himself to the same pacing as her. It isn’t long before she comes again, the way she moans is enough to have Sylus spilling into his hand, panting along with her.

“Well,” he laughs, looking at the evidence in his hand, “You’ve certainly proven me wrong, sweetie.”

A few days later, she receives a mysterious package, giftwrapped in black. Upon opening it, she discovers several different new toys, a giant bottle of lube, and a bright red lacy teddy. There is a note: Play date this Friday?

Text Messages

Going feral at the idea of sweet, well-mannered Zayne being the filthiest. It’s always the innocent ones… Perhaps, she had a role in bringing out this side of him. After all, we know Zayne won’t do anything unless he has permission.

Zayne wouldn’t even think of initiating something like this.

But she would.

After hearing a co-worker share her experience with her boyfriend, she is now intrigued about trying something like this out with Zayne.

With him away on a business trip, she sends daily casual text messages to keep in touch.

Have you arrived safely yet?

What’s your hotel like?

Have you eaten yet?

I miss you.

Sleep early!

Are you tired? Don’t forget to rest!

It’s all so innocent and mundane, Zayne suspects nothing.

Then comes that message. It’s a video attachment. He clicks it and nearly drops his phone.

On the screen is his beautiful girlfriend, completely nude and her legs spread apart for the camera.

There’s a caption on the video:

Have a special treat waiting for you when you come home.

She squirts some cold whipped cream between her legs before dragging a dollop onto her finger and sucking it clean. She asks him sweetly, “Zaynie, you will help me finish this right?”

He can’t think straight, but he feels like he needs to catch the next flight back to Linkon now.

His phone starts pinging nonstop.

There are more risqué photos and videos. He’s losing his mind at seeing her posed in such provocative positions with so many different sexy expressions.

As he’s scrolling down this treasure trove of pictures and video clips, he gets another message:

I miss you, Zaynie. I can’t wait to have you inside me again. <3

*With me again. Darn that autocorrect ;)

Polaroids

Virgin Caleb is going to want to experiment with everything, including taking pictures and recording videos. I mean, he’d be cool with everything. It gets lonely in Skyhaven, so having some photos around the house would make coming home more…exciting. He would also keep that one special polaroid in his wallet.

Can’t stop thinking of Caleb and her finding an old polaroid camera and bringing it home one afternoon. They take some silly photos and experiment with it around her apartment. When they start play fighting, he accidentally pins her down, her shirt riding up to expose her chest and the camera snaps.

She’s not wearing a bra.

He’s straddling her.

The photo prints out.

As seconds tick by, the photo develops completely and it’s a perfect shot of her torso. Her shirt is pushed up, her beautiful breasts the main focus. Caleb swallows, his eyes darting from the polaroid to her pink nipples, knowing he should get off of her, but...he needs to get off now.

“Um…”

She teases him. “Are you hard already?”

He flusters and tries to glare at her, but it’s so hard to be mad when she looks so cute underneath him like that. Instead, he smirks and holds the camera up again.

“We’ve bought so many films,” he says mischievously, “we should put them to good use.”

She takes the first photo from him and presses her lips to it, her bright red lipstick staining the polaroid. He is even more turned on now. She waves it playfully at him, saying, “A gift for the colonel.”

Fuck.

They’re gonna have so much fun with the camera. He plans on taking enough to keep him entertained the next time he does patrol through the Deepspace Tunnel.

[rafecswhore]

that's just the way life goes - part 4

Saturn & more - dad! rafe cameron x mom reader

the evening grew darker as the three of you sat on the porch, the once-vivid hues of sunset fading into the deep blue of twilight. the school project—a solar system model your daughter had painstakingly assembled—sat proudly on the table as she explained every detail with a level of enthusiasm that made you smile despite the tension that lingered between you and rafe.

“and this is saturn,” she said, pointing to the ringed planet. “it’s dad’s favorite, remember?”

you blinked, glancing at rafe, who leaned casually against the table, his expression soft as he looked at your daughter. “how could i forget?” he said, his voice warm. “you’ve told me at least twenty times.”

she rolled her eyes, grinning. “because it’s the coolest one. duh.”

“obviously,” rafe replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

you stayed quiet, watching the two of them interact. rafe always had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world, and for that, you could never fault him. but it also made it harder to keep your walls up. harder to ignore the cracks in the carefully constructed distance you’d built between you.

“mom,” your daughter said, drawing your attention back. “what’s your favorite planet?”

you hesitated, caught off guard. “uh… earth, i guess.”

“that’s boring,” she said, scrunching her nose. “pick another one.”

“mars,” you said, smiling slightly. “it’s red. it stands out.”

“see? now you’re getting it,” she said, turning her attention back to her project.

rafe glanced at you, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “mars, huh? bold choice.”

you rolled your eyes, but the faint flush that rose to your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t start.”

“i wasn’t going to,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. but there was a softness in his gaze that lingered longer than it should have, and you felt the weight of it settle in your chest.

as your daughter continued her explanation, rafe’s attention shifted back to her, and for a while, the moment felt almost… normal. like the three of you were just a family, sitting on the porch and sharing a quiet evening together. but when she finally finished and announced she was going inside to grab something, the atmosphere shifted again.

you stood, gathering the empty glasses from the table as rafe leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same unreadable expression he’d worn earlier.

“you don’t have to stay,” you said, your voice quieter now. “she’ll be fine showing me the rest.”

“i know,” he said, his tone even. “but i’m not in a rush.”

you set the glasses down on the counter just inside the door, your back to him as you tried to steady yourself. he was always like this—so calm, so sure, even when everything between you felt like it was hanging by a thread.

“why are you doing this, rafe?” you asked, turning to face him. “why now?”

he frowned slightly, standing and closing the distance between you with slow, deliberate steps. “doing what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “saying the things you’re saying. showing up like this. you know how hard it is for me to—” you stopped, shaking your head. “it’s just hard.”

rafe’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost unsure. “because i can see it, y/n,” he said quietly. “the way you still look at me when you think i’m not paying attention. the way you hold back, like you’re afraid to admit that what we had—what we have—is still there.”

“it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice trembling. “there’s too much history. too much… everything.”

“so what?” he asked, his tone firm but not harsh. “you think people don’t come back from worse? we’re not perfect, y/n, but that doesn’t mean we can’t figure it out.”

you shook your head, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “i don’t know if i can trust you, rafe.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “then let me prove it,” he said, stepping closer. “let me show you that i’m not the same person i was. that i can be better—for you. for her.”

your chest ached, torn between the part of you that wanted to believe him and the part that remembered all the times you’d been let down before. but before you could say anything, your daughter came bounding back onto the porch, holding a small notebook.

“okay, so this is the next part!” she said excitedly, completely unaware of the tension lingering in the air.

rafe glanced at her, then back at you, his expression softening. “i’ll stay for this,” he said quietly, as if giving you the choice to send him away. but you couldn’t find the words to refuse him, not with the way your daughter lit up when he turned his full attention to her.

so you stayed. and for the rest of the evening, as the sky turned dark and the stars came out, you let yourself hope—just for a moment—that maybe things could be different this time. that maybe, just maybe, rafe could be right.

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy VII

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) ->chapter map

VII.

-Later that night you’re outside Matt’s apartment with that familiar feeling that you’re doing something that maybe you shouldn’t be doing. You were afraid he’d take it the wrong way, if you invited him over to your place. But now you’re not sure this is any better. 

Just chill out, you scold yourself. He’s a sweet boy. He’s going to finish his drawing, and then you’re going to leave. No funny business.

Right. 

Your ovaries have other ideas, but you’re usually successful at thwarting their evil schemes, if with anything your pure talent for saying the wrong thing.   

You can hear the music coming through the door before you even knock. There are several voices on the other side. Loud, excited, adolescently boyish. It doesn’t really help the unease inside you, but before you can change your mind the door is jerked open, answered by a skinny guy in faded black denim. “What’s up?” You think you recognize him from the band.

“Hi…is Matt here?” 

His eyes light up, a smirk pulling his narrow features. “Ohhhhh, you’re the chick from his drawing class!” Then he bellows loud enough for the whole building to hear, “Matt!! Your stripper’s here!” 

Mortified, you are on the verge of turning on your heel and leaving when suddenly Matt appears in the door, maybe as flustered as you are. “Jesus, Layne, shut up.” He pushes his friend away, filling the doorway with his broad-shouldered form. He’s in a white t-shirt, and blue jeans, and if you’re being honest…he looks good enough to eat. “Hey. Sorry about him, he’s an asshole.” 

He runs his fingers through his soft hair nervously, and you feel the sparks as the wires cross in your brain. 

“It’s ok…” It’s not, but what the fuck else can you say?

You follow him into the apartment, which smells of stale beer and weed and unwashed man-children. His friends are watching tv, a cold pizza open on the coffee table. Everything is filthy, and a part of you wants to turn and go again. 

“Aw, don’t hog the girl,” says another one of Matt’s friends. He is big, the mismatched thrift-store chair he sits in clearly on the verge of breaking under his burly weight. When he looks at you you have the unnerving feeling that he is looking through you. “Come hang out.”

“Can’t, Samson. Got a project.”

“Work on it out here!” 

“Yeah, Matt, it’s just art.” They all look at you wolfishly, and it is so completely the opposite vibe of the drawing studio that a part of you wants to bolt like a rabbit. 

“Fuck off, assholes,” Matt says with no real feeling, taking your hand to pull you towards his room. You let him, because you’re not sure what else to do. You feel their gazes between your shoulder blades, a creeping feeling prickling uncomfortably all over your skin. 

“Sorry about them,” he says once he has you inside his tiny bedroom. You can’t help but notice he flips the lock. His friends continue to jeer from the other side, going so far as to throw something heavy at the door. He rifles around to set up his drawing stuff. When he realizes you haven’t moved he asks, “Shit, are you ok?”

The answer is not really, but you shrug it off. “Fine. Where should I sit?” 

His room is messy, but not dirty like the common living area. He moves a pile of clothes and makes a place for you, setting up a desk lamp to mimic the lighting from the drawing studio. “This should do. It’s really cool of you to help me out.” 

“Not a big deal.” You went through the grind before. You know how important it is to do well this first year. The 100 classes are kind of boring, but they really do set the foundation for everything else. 

There’s only one thing left to do. 

You’re not sure why it didn’t occur to you until just now, how charged it would be, to undress while alone in a bedroom with this handsome young man. It doesn’t help that he’s biting his full lower lip, looking at you like a drowning man. 

“Alright. You have to close your eyes.” 

He laughs, those dark orbs sparkling. “What?” 

“Go on. I’ll tell you when you can open them.” 

He doesn’t fight you, doing as you ask and turning his back besides. The difference between him and his friends is such a yawning chasm, you wonder what the hell he’s doing with guys like that. You suppose that sometimes proximity makes strange bedfellows. 

You take off your clothes and arrange yourself. “Ok, you can look.” 

He turns, gazing at you with a softness that tugs all your heartstrings and ties them in knots besides. He glances down at his drawing, then back at you. “Can you move your hand to the left just a hair?” 

You do, and with plenty of tension in the air but no further fuss, he gets to work.

-You stay for three more hours, and the result was worth it. Matt’s drawing takes your breath away, and despite your joke earlier, it’s not vanity. It’s his marks on the paper, the curves and lines and highlights and shadows. It’s beautiful, and you’re very proud of him. 

“I can’t fathom John won’t like this,” you say. Matt makes a face at just hearing his Professor’s name. 

“We’ll see. That dude has it out for me.”

“I think…he just sees you have potential.”

Matt gives you a look, tilting his head so that beautiful hair falls down in a wave. “Are you kidding me?”

“Well…”

“I'm not sure you've noticed this, but I think he likes you.”

You roll your eyes. Maybe that used to be true, but you're pretty sure you ruined it. He was downright distant last class, so cordial it hurt. “I think you're imagining things.”

“Sure, y/n.” Clearly, he's not convinced. “You…want to hang out?” He shoots you a puppy dog look from behind his hair that is hard to resist. 

You smile regretfully. “I have to get going.” You're not just a spoilsport; you really are exhausted.

“Ok, I'll walk you out.” It's settled down outside, and it feels like it's safe to leave. Yet as the two of you are walking past the kitchen the one called Samson blocks your way. 

“Where ya goin? It's early. You should stay.” He fills the whole hallway, impossibly large and seemingly impassable. Every hair raises on your body.

“Sorry…I can't,” you manage to get out, every cell in your body feeling threatened. Of course, your pepper spray is buried deep in the bottom of your purse where you could never get to it in time. 

“Aww. You're no fun.” He reaches up to touch your hair, and you have this sudden sickly feeling like you might die if he lays a hand on you. 

“Dude, chill out.” Matt comes to the rescue, pushing his friend aside like one might an overly friendly Saint Bernard. But you know that even if big dogs seem dumb…they have teeth, and sometimes, they don’t know their own strength. 

“Sorry about him,” he says again as you step outside. Again, you can't help but think that he is waaay too nice to be hanging with these creeps.

“Matt…you're a really nice guy,” you say as you get to your car, wanting to ask him what the deal is with his unsavory company but not sure how. 

“Yeah?” He lights up at hearing this, inching in a little closer with that sideways smile. “Then how come you won't let me kiss you?”

Why do you feel more embarrassed now than fifteen minutes ago when you were sitting in his room with no clothes on? 

“I didn't say I wouldn't…”

This emboldens him enough to step the rest of the way into you, touching his pillow-soft lips to yours gently. He lights up your world, and when you don't pull away his big hands find your waist, his fingertips digging into your skin as he moans against your mouth. 

“You sure you gotta go?” he asks sheepishly, his forehead pressed to yours. His hair is every bit as soft as it looks, you find out, as it curtains your face.

You manage a shaky, “Yeah.” 

Only because you can't stand his roommates. You've decided you will never set foot in that apartment with them there again.

“Bummer.” 

The understatement of the century. You laugh, at your own luck as much as him, smoothing your hands over his muscled chest before patting his cheek lightly. Good lord, what a specimen. “Goodnight, Matt.”

“See you, y/n.”

You drive off, sad to be leaving him. Something about that boy makes you want to wrap him up in your arms, and fight anyone who so much as gives him a sideways look.

That is something to be wary of too, you suppose.

You have no idea that you were being watched by someone from the shadows, snogging your student under the yellow glow of the street light.

----

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[cassandrarebornanew]

Redacted HC bc I said so

FL Gang

this is so long I’m sorry

Dear knows everyone. They are that one person who can unironically say “oh I know a guy” to almost every situation, no matter how strange. Dear also draws their nightmares. I have a hc (from someone else I just can’t find the op) that they have selective mutism, so instead of trying to tell Lasko / family / friends, they just show them. They don’t have a huge amount of nightmares, but they are really good at drawing. Lasko is learning to dance, and his teacher is (drumroll pls)……… Dear! They can 100% dance, don’t tell me otherwise. Lasko was put forward for a really big modelling gig when he was in uni, but he didn’t go for it. He’s absolutely model quality, he just didn’t have the self confidence for it. Dear’s helping him get past this tho, and he’s thinking of maybe putting himself forward for a few smaller photoshoots. It’s unlikely to happen soon, but Lasko’s warming up to the idea that it doesn’t just have to be a pipe dream.

Huxley hates the stereotype that all Earth elementals are good at keeping plants alive, and that they like having house plants. He loves nature, don’t get me wrong, but he doesn’t like keeping plants inside, it seems wrong to him. Damien used to grip his wrist when he was worried that he would lash out, so he ended up with some pretty severe bruising.

Huxley noticed this and started holding Damien’s hands instead and this means they’ve just gotten into the habit of holding hands all the time, even though Damien’s broken the habit completely. In return, Damien founded a tiny community garden less than 30 seconds away from their house, where Huxley tends to the plants like they are his children.

Gavin is a master at painting his nails. He then transferred those skills into painting Freelancer. They don’t know about it, but he wants to have as many drawings and photos of them as he can. He and Dear have given each other pointers to make their art super accurate.

Freelancer makes amazing cookies. They cannot make anything else, but their cookie baking skills are so incredible they once baked a metric shit ton and sold enough to pay for a new phone. Freelancer and Gavin have a system where they each book one night (from about 7:30) a fortnight and no questions asked, they don’t do anything other than spend time with each other. This could be a date night, where they dress up. Or this could be a relaxed evening, where they wear the nicest of their pyjamas and paint each others nails and do skincare.

Freelancer has dyscalculia, and they bond with Huxley because he has dyslexia. They help each other out, no judgement, because they know how crippling it feels to have someone characterise them as stupid because of it. This is why (to me) some of the people [see: f-ing idiots] in the Redactedverse see Huxley as a dumb jock - nonetheless, he passed all his exams with much higher grades than expected. Damien and Dear are the resident cooks. Damien can cook like a chef, and he has an instinct for when the food is about to (or already) burn, which is why he immediately noticed the buns being burned in the second Friendsgiving vid. Dear on the other hand, cooks like it’s for a family - warm food, guilty pleasure food, home food. They are also good at baking, but leave to cookies to Freelancer and the muffins to Huxley (yes he makes muffins). Dear’s specialty is meringues. Their mother taught them the family recipe, and the gang are now hooked on the things.

The entire gang goes to Pride marches together. Dear and Gavin combine their skills to paint everyone’s nails, makeup if they want. They also bust out the face paints and will paint everyone’s respective flag like it’s a mural. Huxley gets his across his chest, Damien spiralling up his right arm, Lasko’s coats his forearms and along his hands and fingers, and Freelancer gets theirs twining around their waist. Dear does their own, and it starts on their eyelids and floats off. Some people say it looks like tears, or humming bird wings. Gavin gets his on his back like a pair of massive wings. Sometimes he makes them stretch out slightly when he knows Freelancer is looking.

Lasko and Damien will get into debates for the fun of it. The others have tried to take part, but the two of them speak so fast you’d think they’re about to break the sound barrier.

Freelancer and Dear are the Dancing Queens (gender neutral lol) of the group, and are never afraid to break out some moves, even in public, much to Damien’s chagrin and Lasko’s embarrassment.

Huxley is the strongest, given that he’s the biggest, and he has the most leverage with those long ass arms. Dear comes second, with Damien then Freelancer and Lasko (in that order) coming in hot behind them. Huxley obviously goes on a lot of hikes + gym. Dear started going to the gym regularly with Damien, but they were already very in shape from frequent hikes and other things; I get lean muscle vibes from them. Freelancer has a really fast metabolism, so they are more than happy to just go on a few runs every now and then. Lasko isn’t the fittest (as we heard in the hiking audio lol) but he’s decided to go on more hikes with Dear, as we heard. Gavin got disqualified from the rankings after he picked up the couch with a single hand - Damien was still on it btw, and he nearly set the thing on fire - and everyone remembered he doesn’t have quite the same limits that the rest of them do. He secretly wanted to get out of the rankings anyway, for reasons unbeknownst to us, so he wasn’t too torn up about it.

Things they are alarmingly good at:

Huxley - photography - he uses those retro Polaroid cameras for the nostalgia feel, and pins the best ones on the wall. The majority of the photos are of Damien let’s be honest

Damien - speed chess - Huxley will sit next to him and watch as he plays and plays and wins every time, and if he doesn’t win, he will play the game back as many times as it takes to see where he went wrong

Gavin - shit posting - he has an account that posts once a month, and it’s the most random stuff, but it goes viral every time. The “then perish” response? That was him

Freelancer - flower … lore? Is that the word? - they know all the symbolism behind each one, and how to make the most meaningful bouquets

Lasko - random fact recall - he, in the middle of a ramble, will drop random ass facts that no one knew about. Dear pays 110% attention (instead of 100% lol) once they noticed, and remembers as many as they can

Dear - fancy writing - they know how to imitate fonts like a computer, and will gladly do so on command. They also have a wicked cursive script, but no one can read it lmao

Let me know if you want me to do any more :)

[your-unfriendlyghost]

🌼Evie🌼

Had this drawing of her that I haven’t posted (I think) and I like it so here we are (the background is a stock image fyi I just edited it some- coulda easily done my own but man I just don’t feel like it)

Anyhow I have a few headcannons about her that’re partially for the Steviepop-Tex AU, and here feels like a good place to put ‘em- so they’re under the cut

-She used to smoke, but medical school turned her off of cigarettes.

-She never seems to remember to pick up after herself. She’s very clean- can’t stand dirt or dust- but very messy. 

-She wanted to be a model or a cowgirl back when she was a kid. She’s older now, and she’s a part-time nurse, part-time hairdresser. Deep down she still wants to be a cowgirl.

-She’s a good mechanic, but she hates the feeling of motor oil and the smell of gasoline. Not enough so to keep her from working at the DX gas station for three years, or to dislike the way grease and gasoline cling to her boyfriend, but enough to turn her off of wanting to be a mechanic as a career. Besides, she’s a girl. She doesn’t wanna work such a masculine job. She feels masculine enough as is. (it’s the 60s-70s I’m sorry lol)

-She had a crush on Soda before she met Steve. And then when she first dated Steve she thought Soda was kinda annoying and airheaded. But when she got to know him the crush came right back.

-Evie lets Ponyboy get away with everything- she’s an only child and she kinda immediately latches onto him in a sisterly sorta way. Steve hates this. So much. God he hates it.

-Her and Soda have come to the agreement that if steviepop has kids Steve’s carrying them (Steve is unaware of this conversation) (this makes no sense but they also agree that they can figure it out w/ “modern science”)

-Her mom doesn’t like Steve but does like Soda. …However, she likes how Steve has more money than Soda does.

-Her and Soda are both into horses- she learned to ride illegally in Buck Merril’s stable (Sylvia convinced her sneaking in at night was a good idea) (She’s still shocked they never got caught) (They actually did get caught- Buck just never mentioned it or stopped them)

-Sylvia was her best friend for years (sorta the Dally to her Johnny). They met at age 12, and stuck together until Evie went off to college.

-After that though, Sylvia stopped returning Evie’s calls and letters. Scared of being forgotten, Sylvia sort of self sabotaged herself. Evie still wonders what happened years later but has too much pride to reach out and ask (she cried about it to Steve for months though. Took it more seriously than a breakup.)

-Part of why she’s always been chill with the idea of Steve being bi and into Soda, even tho it’s the 60s, is that she was the only one who knew Sylvia was a lesbian.

-Really wanted to be a mod girl in high school but couldn’t really afford it. (That yellow dress I draw her in is homemade w/ Sylvia’s help)

[bisexualbrainrots]

part 2 of the louliver fic inspired by this ask from cj's page and fuck, why was this so long I- anyways, enjoy y'all

“When you said you wanted to draw me I didn’t expect you to drag it out this long”

Lou looked up from his chair, and chuckled at the bored expression in Oliver’s face “It hasn’t been that long, c’mon”

Oliver arched an eyebrow and pointed at the clock “It’s been exactly an hour since you started… also, I’m kind of cold in here” he wiggled his hips on the couch, making Lou smile.

“Well, that’s what happens in nude modeling, Oliver”

Oliver scoffed but went back to his original pose, resting his head on his forearms, slightly flexing them, with one of his legs bent high enough to cover his crotch from Lou’s view. He wouldn’t admit it but he really liked it, he liked the way in which Lou studied him, his eyes focusing on different areas of his body at a time before going back to the page.

“If this isn’t going to be one of your best works then I’m sorry but you’ve wasted a good hour where you could’ve fucked me into oblivion”

Lou snorted a laugh, without taking his eyes away from the sketch “Perfection takes time, Oli ” he smirked, knowing the younger was watching him “Besides, you already came before I pulled the charcoal, it’s how I got you to agree to this”

Lou shifted in his seat, remembering the way the younger had come down his throat, leaning against the kitchen island.

Oliver laughed, his chest shaking a little “And it fucking worked, remind me not to listen to you after you’ve gotten me off Lou”

It was not really that surprising the amount of things both men could agree to after coming, given that sex between them was nothing less than extraordinary. They would end up dazed, no thoughts on their heads but the wave of pleasure that just washed over them, which in most cases tended to be intense.

Months of sex could do that to you, especially when it was as exploratory as theirs.

They had gotten to know each other’s bodies well enough to hit those spots that would make them see stars, that would make them lose themselves to ecstasy and not stop until they reached the finishing line.

Lou gave one last brush with his thumb to the paper, the finishing touches done and he hummed, pleased with the end result “Okay, I’m done, you can stop your whining and get dressed… or not ” he looked at him as he grabbed a cloth to clean his hands, carrying that playful smirk Oliver had gotten to know over the last months.

Oliver sighed with content “Finally” he sat on the couch, leaning towards the older “Can I get a peak then?, seeing as I’m probably the only one would get to watch this”

Lou rolled his eyes but gave him a small smile “Okay, get in here” he watched carefully as the younger approached the armrest, and before he could sit and watch he spoke “Look, I’m my worst critic, so I don’t think it’s perfect but… here it is”

He didn’t expect for Oliver to lose his breath as he took in the drawing, brushing it with his fingers, enchanted by it “This… this is really good Lou” he looked up at the older, biting his lower lip before speaking “Is-is this how you see me?”

Oliver did look good, really good. Lou captured everything, from the fluffy curls on his head to the definition in his muscles. The shading made it almost look like a filtered photograph, you could still tell it was a drawing but it was impressive how stuck to reality it was for the most part.

Oliver’s face in the sketch looked angelic, his eyes soft as they were looking at the front, it was a bit eerie since it looked like he was staring into you. He was gorgeous though, his lips looking plump and his birthmark adorning his face. Oliver couldn't believe it.

He looked perfect.

Lou cleared his throat suddenly nervous “Well, yeah I guess, I mean I tried to make this as realistically as possible, I don't usually get to practice this style that mu—” his rambling couldn't continue thanks to Oliver's lips on his, accompanied by his hand that was cupping his face. 

Lou closed his eyes and gave into the kiss. It was sweeter than most, it almost reminded him of their first kiss, when they rehearsed for their scene on the show.

When they stopped he was breathless, staring into the younger's eyes and almost moaning at the way his pupils had overpowered the blue.

“C’mere” he said, carefully placing the sketch on the coffee table before grabbing Oliver's hips, making him straddle his lap.

Oliver squeaked at the strength, giggling when he had Lou's hands all over him, and started trading kisses along the older's cheek and neck. He nipped at the earlobe, giving it a lick “I looked really fucking good, Jesus , how the fuck did you do that Lou?” he whispered in his ear.

Lou groaned when he felt Oliver grinding on him and kneaded his asscheeks, getting one his fingers closer to the rim “I just… I have a lot of practice, you know?”

Oliver shivered when he felt Lou's digit stimulating his entrance and demanded him to put it inside quickly. This got him a strong spank that made him whimper.

Lou took the finger out and brought it along with other two to Oliver's lower lip “Coat them well if you want me to fuck you, Oliver” the younger moaned and welcomed the digits immediately, licking and drooling onto them like they were Lou's actual cock. 

Lou cooed, complimenting the way in which the younger sucked off his fingers, his other hand playing with Oliver's curls. Oliver closed his eyes, putting on a little show for the older, whom he knew was going to be looking at him intensely. 

When Lou had decided it was enough he took them out and slid one finger into Oliver's hole, making the younger squirm and hold himself by the older's shoulders.

He slowly started to open him up, sliding in and out his finger until he could see the way Oliver was looking for more. A second digit was added and Oliver started moaning louder, hiding his face in the crook of Lou's neck. 

When it was time for the third finger the younger was sobbing, tears streaming down his face as pleasure overtook him. 

When Lou found Oliver's prostate the other jolted and cursed loudly, rolling his hips to get more of Lou's thick fingers “Yeah that's it, ride my fingers Oli , c'mon, fuck yourself with them” the older's voice reached a new low that surprised the younger and made him lean back enough so that their noses were brushing.

“Fuck, Lou… fuckin’ hell” he gasped against the older's lips, their hot breath mingling together. Oliver groaned and joined their foreheads “Fuck me, please Lou just fuck me now, ah ”

Lou took the younger's mouth and slid his tongue in, kissing him passionately as his fingers started to slow down, receiving a loud complaint from Oliver. He continued the kiss as he took hold of Oliver's ass and lifted both of them from the chair, leading them to the couch with him on top of the younger.

Lou held Oliver's wrists and lifted them over the younger's head, grinding against him. He separated from the kiss and started trading some along Oliver's neck, receiving sighs and encouragements from him. 

“Why am I the only one still clothed here, Lou? ah yeah, there , t-take those damn shorts off”

Lou chuckled against Oliver's neck and gave him a gentle bite, which made the younger squirm “I’m sorry, your royal highness, but I don't answer to mean”

“You like it when I'm mean”

Lou rolled his eyes and groaned, letting his hold on the younger's wrists go and allowing Oliver to undress him “I do, I also like it when you're needy which I recall you were when you begged me to fuck you” his impression of the younger got him a twist on his nipples and he laughed, letting all his clothes fall to the floor with the help of Oliver. 

When he was naked he looked between the cushions and cheered when he found the lube, receiving a mockery from the younger. 

“You’re such a dork Lou” 

“A dork that will pound you into the couch in the next minute or so, so we better get you ready” he chuckled as he poured some lube on his fingers and slid them inside Oliver, who squirmed at the feeling. 

It only took a couple of thrusts with his fingers to get Oliver ready, which both men secretly thanked as Lou took a cushion and placed it under the younger's hips.

Oliver got another cushion to rest his head in and locked eyes with Lou as he lined himself in his entrance. He gasped, breathless as the tip entered and closed his eyes shut the more inches slipped in “W-why did you have to be so big Lou?” he grabbed onto the older's biceps, sinking his nails in.

Lou chuckled “You ask yourself that and I'm still wondering how you are so tight after I opened you up” both men snorted a laugh at that and Oliver fluttered his eyes open. They gasped when Lou bottomed out, Oliver's mouth hanging open as a whimper escaped his throat. 

“Fuck… fuck ” Oliver was breathless, taking gulps of air as he felt Lou filling him up “M-move, please …”

Lou gave him a soft smile and slowly started to roll his hips, pulling soft moans from the younger's mouth. He leaned in, kissing his forehead and joining them as his pace picked up, thrusting deeply into Oliver. 

Oliver’s legs wrapped themselves around Lou's hips, and his moans filled the room as the older kept fucking him “Harder, fuck me harder Lou”

Lou did as such, letting out a groan as he leaned his head back, admiring the way the younger looked form that angle “Sometimes it’s really annoying how beautiful you are, Oliver” the younger looked at him and smiled faintly, his face and chest covered in a red blush “Makes me want to paint all over you”

Their bodies were sweaty now as they slammed into each other, skin to skin sounds that made both men sigh.

“We c-could, ah , you know there’s edible paint, right?”

Lou's eyes sparkled, thinking about all the things he could create on the younger's body, and how he could lick all of that off with his tongue, taking his time to ruin the other “You’re giving me ideas, Oli”

Oliver chuckled but then bit his lip, looking at the older with pleading eyes “Lou…” 

Lou looked at him confused, it was a different look from the ones he had been giving him up to the moment “W-what? Are you okay?” 

He cared about him, despite the way Oliver has hurt him before. Sometimes it made him sad, to know he had become so infatuated with a person who will never reciprocate those feelings.

“It’s just… fuck , Lou, lift my legs” the needy moan that escaped Oliver's mouth bounced around the older's head “I-I want you in deeper, please fucking lift my legs”

Lou smiled and gave him a small kiss before leaning back, taking Oliver by the ankles letting them rest on his shoulders. The change in angle made it easier to fuck into the younger deeper and faster, and suddenly, Oliver screamed. 

“Touch yourself Oli , c'mon, jerk yourself off” the softness in Lou's voice was a bit too much for Oliver, who teared up as his hand reached his aching cock, pumping it hard.

Lou’s hands caressed Oliver's legs, a soft touch that contrasted with the hard thrusts that drilled into the younger's ass “I’m obsessed with your legs, Oliver, they're so long it's ridiculous, fuck ”

Oliver’s laugh turned into a loud moan as the older kept hitting his prostate, and he just knew “Lou I-I’m gonna come, shit , Lou please come inside, I need, I need—”

“I know” Lou’s thumb stroked Oliver's lips and the younger sucked on it, never letting his eyes off the older “Shit, Oliver ”

The care in Lou's voice was enough to send Oliver over the edge, and he came hard. His cum reached up to his pecs, and his body shook so hard you'd think he was convulsing. 

It took a few more thrusts for Lou to reach ecstasy, screaming Oliver's name as he filled his hole, so much he knew he was overflowing it.

He carefully dropped Oliver's legs to his sides before collapsing on top of him, their chests sticking together as they got their breathing under control. 

“Fuck, that was…” 

“Amazing” Oliver finished, and both chuckled before kissing softly.

Lou pulled out, making the younger wince, and rested his head on Oliver's shoulder “I think I'll stay like this for a while Oli I can't… I don't think I can stand up just yet”

Oliver chuckled “ You can't stand up? Lou I can't feel my lower body… but I'm not complaining, that was a good fuck”

Lou smiled, and kissed his neck “Yeah, it was��

read on AO3.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 10

First and foremost, we've gotten quite a few pieces of fanart from @your-local-furby and @antartzz in the last little bit! We've got a smooch scene as well as a drawing and comic of MC with antartzz's oc Freida. I always get all mushy and/or feral when I get art so I really do appreciate it!

On a more serious note;

Content warnings: homophobia, as well as "queer" being used as a slur, verbal abuse/altercations, and attempted physical assault. (MC and his father get into a really bad argument while shopping.) There is also a bit of ableism but it's no more extreme than in previous chapters, and the homophobia is a much bigger thing in this chapter.

Please be cautious if that is a particularly triggering.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

“Could you hurry it up already?” you hear your father ask, holding a package under his arm.

You look around the store shelves, eyes scanning over different brands of typewriter ribbons. Your fingers ache from carrying the basket of items, so you carefully swap hands. “I’d probably finish up faster if you actually helped me find the brand I need.”

Your father scoffs. “There can’t be that much of a difference between all the other brands here. I’m sure you can find… whatever it is you’re picky about from a different brand.”

“The ribbon I’m looking for is from the same company that made my typewriter,” you explain for what feels like the hundredth time, but is probably only the seventh or eighth time, “it’s specifically made for that particular brand, and since mine is an older model, it’s difficult finding adequate substitutes.”

“Have you ever considered getting a new typewriter? Something newer and more universal?”

“Why would I when the typewriter I have right now works fine?”

“Because your typewriter is older than you are,” your father states, “and I’ll give you credit, you take good care of it, but if something breaks, it’s going to be expensive and difficult to repair, and that’s if they’re even making parts for it anymore.”

“I will worry about that when it happens,” you reply, “but for now, I need ribbons, and I’m struggling to find them.”

Your father sighs. “What’s the brand again?”

“Fuscienne ruban d’encre.”

“What?”

“It’s a box with Fontainian on it,” you answer. “This store is the only place in town that sells it, and unless they’ve partnered with other suppliers in Fontaine, it should be the only one.”

Your father is quiet for a few moments, allowing you to go back to searching for your ink ribbons. The silence is nice, and it’s short lived when you hear the man sigh again. “... Is this what you wanted for a career?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Writing those… girly books.”

You give your father a look. “... Really?”

“What? That’s what they are.”

“They’re romance books. It won’t kill you to say the word romance.”

“And who reads them?”

“People who like romance.”

“Don’t play this game with me.”

“Just get to the point already.”

“I’m just saying writing isn’t the only career you could have chosen,” your father explains, “you had options when you were younger, and you still have options today. You talk about how you can only do certain things on account of your vision, but you act like they’re the only options you have.”

Your father’s words catch you off guard, and you are quiet for a moment as you mull them over. They’re… almost inspiring out of context, but in that condescending hand holding way. You can hear someone else who means well but doesn’t understand saying some of those words to you with a smile that’s too big, too bright, too rehearsed. Something that would have sufficed as motivational when you were little, but just leaves a bad taste in your mouth as an adult.

That said, this is your father, so it immediately raises a red flag. It’s one thing for him to make a backhanded comment, it’s another for him to say something that could be misconstrued into something well meaning when stripped of the full context. You know this, and you know it can only mean one thing.

Your eyes land on a small box, and you pick it up. You then sigh, realizing this isn’t your brand, the design just looks similar. You’re still looking at the shelf when you speak up. “So, why are you in the doghouse this time?”

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes finally spot the word Fuscienne. You momentarily forget the conversation and grin at the last box on the shelf. You snatch it and drop it into the basket.

Your father places a firm hand on your shoulder. “What did you mean by that?”

Right. You turn to face him. “Mom’s mad at you about a comment you made and is making you babysit me,” you reply, “I don’t care what it was you said, but I’m assuming she’ll forgive you if I said you did a good job helping me.”

(Which he really didn’t, because you are a grown man who has been to this store on his own many times before, and your father helping you navigate the store would make your outing even longer.)

Your father averts his eyes, and under his irritation, you see embarrassment shine through the cracks in his mask. He crosses his arms, and on a smaller figure, it would look like such a petulant gesture. It just looks pathetic for someone his age. “The faster we get this over with, the sooner we go home and you go back to your books.”

You answer by walking to the front of the store. The old man behind the counter grins when he sees you. “Find everything you were looking for?”

You nod, placing the basket on the counter. “Grabbed the last box of the Fuscienne ink ribbons. Lucky me.”

“You know, son,” the old man says, “I like to keep at least one pack of the Fuscienne in the back, just for you.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes! You’re one of my regulars, and I know you like that one, so I always make sure I have extra for you in case it sells out before our next order.”

You find yourself smiling. “That’s really kind of you.”

“It’s no problem.” He starts pulling items out of your bag, ringing them up before handing them to his son, who then begins to bag the items. “How is your book?”

His son gives him a quick look. “Father, remember?”

The man behind the counter goes pale. “O-Oh, right, I forgot about the, erm…”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure the man, “progress is good! Very good. I actually got a deal with the Yae Publishing House shortly after my old publisher dropped me. I’m actually waiting for them to get back to me with their final thoughts before I officially start my final draft.”

The man grins. “Oho! That’s delightful! How long do you think it will take before you get it published?”

“I should be hearing back within the week,” you answer, “and after that… a month maybe, and I’m still deciding between cover designs, and I’m not sure what their exact manufacturing and publishing process is, so… I’m not a hundred percent sure when I’ll finally have it out, haha.”

“So I take it you haven’t heard about your old publisher?” the son pipes up.

“What?”

“You don’t know? He’s gone bankrupt.”

Your eyes go wide. “What?! What do you mean?”

“Mountains of debt, from what some of the other writers and editors have said,” the son explains. “Rumour has it the reason he started terminating contracts and laying off editors was so the money would go to paying it all off while still getting a cut of the profits from the books they had published through him.”

“Son of a bitch,” you mutter, before you feel yourself go pale. “Wait, wait, when did this happen?”

“Just a couple days ago,” the son says, “I’m surprised your girlfriend didn’t tell you. She still works there, right?”

“My girlfr… Alik? No, they’ve been out of town visiting family. Archons, the shitshow they’re going to be coming home to…”

“Wait, she– they’re not your–”

“No, no, I’m… I’m not interested in them like that.”

The son stares at you, and you see the little twitch of his lips. “You know what? That makes sense.”

“The hell are you implying?”

Your father’s voice making his presence beyond your central vision known scares you. You turn and see him glaring at the young man. 

The old man speaks up. “S-Sir, my apologies, my son didn’t mean any–”

“Are you insinuating something about my son, boy?”

You turn and see the son’s horrified expression. “I-It was just a joke, some banter between friends! R-Right?” he asks, looking to you for help.

“Father, calm down,” you tell him, “it’s not a big deal.”

He glares harder at the young man. “You’d like it if you thought my son wasn’t interested in that girl ‘like that,’ wouldn’t you?”

By the Tsaritsa this cannot be happening.

“I swear to you sir, it was a bad joke, I promise you, i-it sounded funnier in my head and–”

“I think it’s best we start going to another business,” your father hisses, “I don’t need you leering at my son.”

Horror floods your system, eyes widening and mouth agape. You feel your father staring holes into you expectantly, waiting for you to announce your disgust and disdain at such implications and storm out. Stuck in place, you see the old man’s face first, and he’s in a state of shock, too caught off by the situation to get angry. Then your eyes land on the young man. You can see he’s also shocked, but more than anything he looks humiliated, scared even. He looks like he’s about to start crying, and the sight switches your absolute horror to absolute rage.

You whip around, teeth bared in anger. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“What’s my problem?! Ask him!”

You push your father’s chest and he staggers back. You point at the front door. “You already bought your shit so why are you even still in here? Just leave already!”

“And leave you alone with this–”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO.”

The shop goes deathly quiet. Your father’s eyes widen, absolutely shocked by your vulgarity, before his eyes narrow again. His jaw clenches, and in the quiet, you can almost hear the creaking of his clenched teeth. He gives one more dirty look to the young man before he stomps off. He makes sure to slam the door on the way out.

Your mother says he’s a good man, there are still just some traditional things he prefers. He’s very supportive of your sisters’ career or schooling choices, and is endlessly proud of his son for meeting a hard working and loving woman. It’s a side of him that doesn’t always come up, but it rears its ugly head when it comes to you, with your love of literature and romance. You’ve never been sure if it’s because your specific career isn’t the most manly of jobs, or if it’s because writing isn’t as impressive to him as becoming a surgeon or a lawyer or taking over the family business. Regardless, you’ve seen and heard some rather ignorant opinions from him. Your mother doesn’t approve of it, but her attempts at discouraging it are little more than a look, or a hand placed gently on the shoulder and a harshly whispered “honey” or “Mikhaïl.” 

Still, what the fuck was that?

You’ve by now memorized how much your purchases will cost. Fuscienne ink ribbons, stack of paper, and some envelopes. You know roughly how much the amount would weigh in your hand, so when you reach into your pouch and pull out a rather hefty handful of golden coins, it’s purposeful.

You pour the mora into the old man’s hand. “T-Take this, I am so, so sorry, I’ve never… I’ve never seen him react like that to anything.”

The old man looks at the mora in his hand. “This… This is too much, I can’t–”

“I don’t care, please take it as an apology on my behalf,” you insist. You step back and meet his son’s eyes. You place your hand on your chest, your face burning with embarrassment. “I-I can’t tell you how fucking horrified I am, and I am so sorry this happened. He’s said stupid shit before but this is new, I-I don’t know what happened but that is not okay.”

The man sniffles. “N-No, I made the joke, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, “and, um, if I’m honest, y-your joke wasn’t off the mark, but I…” You shake your head. “You two will always be my go to shop whenever I need supplies, so I truly cannot tell you how awful I feel about this, I’m really sorry.”

The young man forces a smile, and nods, still distressed. His father pats him on the shoulder and gestures to a door behind them. You watch him step away from your things and head through the door, and you can hear the shaky breath he lets out through the closed door.

The man takes over bagging your items, which isn’t much considering you only bought a couple things, but he’s deliberately slow in the process. You wonder why, until he speaks in a soft tone. “So… you’re like my son.”

Picking up on the meaning behind his words, you immediately feel even worse about what just happened, feeling physically nauseous. “I am, if you’re talking about… not having girlfriends.”

He nods. “Not many people know, and not many bring it up,” he says, “this is the first time something like this has happened to him in the store. I… I think he’ll appreciate what you’ve done today when he’s not so shaken up. I know I do.”

You find yourself smiling, but not out of joy. “It’s nothing, really. People are fools, and my father is a court jester. It’s honestly the least I could have done, I feel.”

“Either way, I appreciate it,” he says, and then he hands you your things. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be,” you say, “I’m just about sick of his shit anyways, if you’ll pardon my vulgarity, and if I don’t rip into him then my mother will. Again, I am so sorry.”

“You take care now, son.”

You smile and nod, your chest tight with worry and face burning with embarrassment. Not much else is said, but there’s not really a whole lot else to say. You take a deep breath, brace yourself, and step outside.

Your father stops his pacing and immediately goes off when you step outside. “Where the hell do you get off embarrassing me like that?!”

Having lost all patience with him today, you immediately match his tone and energy and yell back. “Oh don’t give me all the credit, you did a fine enough job of that yourself!”

“That boy was out of line!”

“So you started berating him in front of his father? You started insulting him?”

“Do you not understand how inappropriate that joke was?”

“No, enlighten me.”

“He was implying you’re a queer! A queer! Why aren’t you upset about that?!”

There it is again.

You press on. “Why should I be?”

“You know why!”

“What the hell is your problem? Why are you so mad about that?”

“What are people going to say if they think I raised a queer?”

“It can’t be anything worse than what they’re going to say about you going off on an old man and his son for stupid reasons!” You grin angrily at him. “Front page, ‘owner of Kuznetsov Shipping Company verbally abuses shopkeeper's son.’ Like you need the bad press when you’re starting to get your shit back together. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“What’s wrong with me? I could ask the same thing to you!” your father spits. “You’re going to defend some… some…!”

“Let’s not say anything too deplorable now,” you tell him, like a parent talking to a fussy toddler, “you might want to save that for when we get home.”

“This is your fault,” your father growls.

“How is this my fault?”

“Those prissy little fairytales you keep writing,” he answers, “they think you’re a queer.”

“And what… what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with– son, are you gay?”

“What? No! Besides, I don’t have to be gay to think you’re being an ass, I can still see you, and they can probably hear you spouting hate from the palace.”

“You don’t have a wife, or a girlfriend, you don’t try to find one, and you spend all day reading girly books!”

“Like you’re any better,” you snap, and then immediately regret.

“What was that?”

Fuck. Well, you’re already in it now.

“You are obsessed with Pantalone,” you tell your father, “obsessed with getting on his good side, obsessed with making sure he likes you, your practices, that we don’t embarrass you in front of him, you even hijacked the afternoon tea he invited me and only me to! You want to point fingers and call me gay because I write romance? At least all my books are about men and women! You literally spend every day thinking about how to impress another man.”

You watch your father wind his arm back, but he’s stopped and seized by gloved hands. You step back in surprise, and when he’s pulled back, you can see he’s been grabbed by two guards. It brings you back to the present moment, and reminds you that you aren’t one of two people in the whole world. You look around the snowy street and see people, couples and families and a couple tourists, frozen in their spots on the street just staring at the spectacle. You look up at the shop and see the old man watching you, concerned.

“Unhand me!” your father yells.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to calm down before you do anything stupid,” replies the guard.

A third guard steps out from behind the first tow and approaches you. “What is the meaning of all this yelling?”

“A-Ah…” You look over and spot your dad, no longer resisting, glaring daggers at you. “It’s… a family dispute.” 

“A family dispute?”

“Look, I’m sorry about causing a scene,” you answer, “my father and I had a disagreement, no one got hurt–”

“Because we stopped him from hitting you.”

“I know, I know, just…” You sigh. “I don’t want to press any charges, if there’s a fine for disturbing the peace, we’ll pay it.”

The guard looks to the other two, then to your father. He sighs, then turns back to you. “... Fine. We’re letting you off with a warning.” He looks over at your father and points at you as he addresses him. “You’re only off the hook because of him,” he says, then turns to you, “and you’re still on your feet because we stepped in. Remember this next time you let a family dispute get heated.”

“O-Of course, sir,” you reply.

The guards let your father go, and he gives them a dirty look while he straightens his coat back out. You don’t bother with sticking around, electing to instead turn around and walk down the street of murmuring people. Your father doesn’t bother calling out for you to follow him home, heading in the opposite direction instead.

You keep your gaze forward as you head to a currently unknown destination, just wanting to be anywhere else. Maybe the bakery down the road, something sweet would do a good job washing the bitter taste out of your mouth. 

The Pantalone comment was stupid, you think as you happen to pass the man himself, though your humiliation and wish to not be seen makes you figuratively blind to that fact (as well as literally). He stops when he recognizes who just passed him, half tempted to call out and ask how you’re doing, but refrains. Your body language is obvious and painfully honest, almost to a fault, and he can see you want to vacate the area as soon as possible. When he happens to look the other way, recognizing the silhouette of your father angrily storming in the opposite direction, he sighs.

“So that’s what all that racket was…”

[akutasoda]

Hii!! Could I request Obey me brothers with a mc who dresses like misa amane from death note? If not don’t worry!! Have an amazing day/night!<333

stylish fashion

synopsis - when mc has a fashion similar to misa amane

includes - lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, wc - 789

a/n: hii! hope you're having an amazing day/night too!

lucifer ★↷

↪to many demon's surprise, lucifer can be quite into his fashion. while it may be more tailored toward formal wear and jewellery, he still had quite the eye for such things.

↪so he did think your style was quite bold at first. bold, but absolutely stunning. it just seemed to work so well for you and he couldn't help but compliment each of your outfits even if he had seen it before.

↪and because of his eye in jewellery, if you were the type, he would gladly take you out and help pick some to complete your look and still perfectly compliment your outfits.

mammon ★↷

↪ he's a fashion demon. he does regular photoshoots for mainly clothing companies and such so he thought he had seen majority of styles in the off hand chances of passing by other models.

↪and sure he's seen demons wear similar style clothing to you, but for some reason it suited you so much better. that and your outfits and their coordination worked so much better.

↪ isn't his style but would be more than happy to help you adf pieces into your collection by showing you all the best brands for your style.

↪and maybe if you chose to, he'd happily try and get you into a modelling gig with him. perhaps then you could help him pick a outfit in your style.

leviathan ★↷

↪he really couldn't draw his eyes away from how gorgeous he found your style. so much so that he felt a bit weird for staring at you.

↪he just couldn't help it! you're outfits were always stunning and he honestly wished he had your confidence to wear a similar style to yours.

↪he is quite well versed in various fashion/clothing shops surprisingly. so he would happily tell you were they were so you could add more pieces to your collection and maybe he would join you and help pick some for you aswell.

↪ however, he is also very good at carfting from scratch. most of his cosplays are hand made, the clothing mostly, so should you find out he would happily oblige in taking your requests.

satan ★↷

↪to absolutely no one's surprise he has limited knowledge of fashion. sure he may claim he's read books with that stuff in but that can't really be translated into the real world of fashion.

↪but he didn't have to be into fashion to think your style was absolutely amazing. you really never missed with a gorgeous, well planned outfit that always complimented your features.

↪he had to say, he loved the style. it would definitely become one he would be interested in, perhaps a more toned down version but still.

asmodeus ★↷

↪adores it an unbelievable amount. need i say more.

↪ it's no surprise asmo likes to dive into various styles and such, so when something with great fashion like you? it would be a crime not to ask.

↪while it probably wouldn't be a style he'd wear, he still thought it was absolutely brilliant. he loved all the accessories you'd sometimes where and even loved the more simpler outfits.

↪ probably knows the best places in the devildom to match your style. so would never hesitate to take you and help you expand your wardrobe.

beelzebub ★↷

↪another one that doesn't really have knowledge in fashion. it's not that he doesn't care, it's just not his main priority.

↪he rhought you looked stunning regardless of what you wore. but he did have to say, some of your outfits had a very nice look to them and he could understand why you had a strong fashion sense.

↪if you wanted to, he'd happily let you try your style of him. while it probably didn't match him like it matched you, he would still keep some accessories you tried on him.

↪ones that he could wear subtly. but he still could admire your outfits and the dedication you had to having such a fashion sense.

belphegor ★↷

↪ probably the worst when it comes to fashion. he spends most his time asleep and rarely cares about the styling of his clothes so has very limited knowledge on fashion.

↪ didn't really care how you dressed. if you were wearing something that made you comfortable and confident that's all that mattered in his opinion. although he couldn't help but admire the dedication.

↪he figured it must take you ages to coordinate and complete your outfits and pull them off each time, something he'd never really bother with.

↪ although his favourites were definitely your more 'casual' and comfortable outfits. the ones were it was mainly a top and pair of pants. those he could really get behind.

[traumasurvivors]

Here’s a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I’ve also put it below the read more for people that don’t like external links. But if you're okay with it, checking it out on my personal website is really nice (and even giving it a heart if you can)! I don't make money from my website, so there are no intrusive ads or anything like that to stop you from reading the article.

Embracing Your Inner Child

This applies to anyone, but I really want to emphasize this to my fellow survivors who went through trauma as children and/or teenagers.

I’m so sorry you lost part, most or all of your childhood. That doesn’t mean it’s too late to give your inner child what you can. This includes comfort but it also includes doing the things you didn’t get to if you can.

Play the fun games. Buy the tasty treats. Go on adventures.

It’s never too late to feel a little more of the kind of joy you had (or should have had) as a child. You may not be able to be a child again, but you can still help and support your inner child.

You might have been told that a fun idea you had was “silly” or even “stupid.” When you have those thoughts now, instead of rejecting it, embrace the “silly” idea and let yourself enjoy it. It’s not shameful or wrong to do the things your inner child wants to do. It’s okay to be “immature” sometimes, even if you’re twenty years old. Or thirty. Or sixty. I just want to say that I don’t think any of this is immature, but I know that is a bias and judgement a lot of us might pass on ourselves. 

A short, not at all complete list of things you might do for your inner child:

Watch childhood movies or tv shows (Did you watch “Blues Clues”, or “Pokemon”? Maybe “The Land Before Time”? There’s no reason you can’t still enjoy them.)

Listen to “silly” music, maybe singing along or dancing to it (for me, one favourite is “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King” from The Lion King. I know every word and have a dance party everytime it comes on my shuffle.)

Go to the park and use the swings (I don’t know why, but flying up just a few feet can make me forget all my “grown-up” worries)

Have a treat just because (maybe that big sundae your parents never let you have, or the chicken nuggets you haven’t had in a decade). Maybe you want to fulfil your childhood dream of having ice cream for breakfast! 

Go to the toy store - maybe even get some stuffed animals or other toy items. (I just recently realized that I can fulfill my childhood dream of collecting certain toys that I never got to have when I was younger!) 

Ride a roller coaster and scream your head off on the way down (I like to try to be in the very first car)

Make creative, crafty stuff - like a painting or drawing, or decorating a picture on construction paper with googly eyes and glitter or a clay model with a weirdly shaped head (even if the result looks like something you’d expect to see in a kindergarten class, or the process makes a mess that looks like a glitter bomb went off)

Another aspect of embracing your inner child is trying to give your inner child the person you needed when you were a child. 

This might mean standing up for yourself when others try to put you down or take credit for things you’ve done, even (or especially) if no one else spoke up for you when you were a child. 

It might mean offering comfort and compassion to yourself, and not being too hard on yourself when you make mistakes that you would have been insulted for as a child or don’t know something that “everyone learns as a child.” Maybe now you can teach yourself that accidents happen, and spilling a drink or breaking a plate is not the disaster and failure of character that you were told as a child. 

It might mean being patient with yourself when something is harder to do than you feel like it should be (whether you actually aren’t able to do it as easily as others, or you have unrealistic expectations of its difficulty because of the expectations put on you as a child). There are lots of instructional videos out there to help you to gain basic cooking or cleaning skills. If you never really learned to read, there are programs to help you. If you weren’t allowed or able to learn to manage your emotions or relationships in healthy ways, there’s help out there for you. There is absolutely no shame in not learning any kind of skills you feel you “should” have learned as a child, and it is okay to learn them as an adult.

You may have had to grow up too fast. You may not have been allowed to do the fun things. You may have suffered trauma that shattered your childhood. I’m here to tell you that you still have an inner child, and embracing that inner child is good for you. Just because you’re an adult, at any age, doesn’t mean that you’re too old to have fun.

No one else gets to decide what’s right for you - you get to decide what you enjoy and what you want.

And it’s never too late to remember, indulge, listen to, and embrace your inner child. Let them be a part of how you choose to move forward. It’s time for us to realize that there is no one way to be an adult, and we get to decide what being an adult means to us. And if that means I want to rent a bouncy castle for my birthday, then that is my perfectly valid version of an adult birthday (a birthday which my inner child would be thrilled about, by the way).

[the-meme-monarch]

Sort of a difficult question to answer since it's fairly open-ended, but regardless, What all has inspired you to draw the way you do? The way you work with shape language in characters is incredible to me and I aspire to be someday as smooth and clean with drawing the way you are. It's reminiscent of early 2000's cartoons but still modern enough to be distinguishable, so I'm wondering if you got any inspiration from that era of cartooning specifically? Wish I could properly word how much your art and the way you depict both the toon handlers, and the founders of Gardenview has affected me, because it is a LOT. I don't mean to put you up on some sort of special amazing pedestal since we're all human after all, but god damn has your shit changed me. Keep doing what you do, I'll be one of the many people cheering for you on the sidelines. I'd love to know more of the thought process behind how you design characters because it's truly special. Adds a discrete layer of charm, if you will. Things like small accessories, i.e giving shrimpo a sailor outfit or maybe even making some things a certain outline color like Delilah's blue-ish glasses.

saying it’s like early 2000s cartoons but still modern and distinguishable is such a meaningful compliment im not sure how to describe it :’] i was born 2002 so that era of cartoons is a big part of what i grew up watching ! I’m not sure there were any specific cartoons that’s influenced my art style, i think it was just evolved from whatever felt right and looked good ! i remember thinking ‘why don’t any of these cartoons give the characters irises. where is their eye color’ so i draw my humans with irises. ‘why do these guys all have four fingers, that’s not correct’ so i draw humans with five fingers

as for accessories, particularly on the human dw characters, i think it’s just a matter of ‘the toons are going to have more simplistic designs bc they’re drawings, the humans are going to dress like humans do’ so they’ll have accessories, watches, bracelets, earrings, etc, or i’ll change the outfit to be more realistic/look like something a person would actually wear. I’ve said it before but the handler’s uniforms as seen in-game look goofy as hell I’m sorry. why are their undershirt and pants the same color. the undershirt being darker than the vest doesn’t look right. don’t fucking get me started on arthur’s shirt collar and vest and sleeves. if it’s a black shirt why are the sleeves white. why is the collar the same green as the tie. why is there a line of black you can see above the collar. is he wearing a fake collar or is it just bc roblox models are printed on designs like legos. so i draw it as a black collared shirt and the white sleeves are Attached to the vest

also i particularly care about differentiating how the toons are drawn vs the humans bc i already have a universe of ocs that is just humans and toons interacting, so i need ways to differentiate how each of them are drawn, so they don’t look like they like. came from the same Thing. i want them to look a little off standing next to each other, bc one is a regular human person and the other is a living drawing :] usually by using different line thickness, or a drop shadow so the toons look like a cel, + more obvious things like more expressive movements/expressions, toons adhering more to shape language where humans don’t

also of note w shrimpo’s little sailor collar, that came from me wanting to put repeating motifs in some of the toons designs :] the the collar itself has a stripe on the back like the hem of his shirt/dress, and the knot is the same shape as his shrimp tail. i do this on at least a few other characters, i draw tisha’s dress as a napkin hem to mimic the shape of the box fold on the side of her head, i draw lace on the hem of teagan’s dress to mimic the scallop shape on the top of her head, things like that :]. giving delilah glasses just came from ‘she’s old she could have little glasses on’, them being that cyan was just to match her gloves :] giving arthur mobility aids came from looking at the gardenview building and the distinct lack of stairs(all the ramps and elevators) and thinking w my sibling ‘at least one of the founders was likely already disabled for them to have Built the building like this, bc like. in the 80s? im not sure they would’ve considered it otherwise’ bc at that point we didn’t have their designs yet

[oddygaul]

the REDLINE manifesto

In honor of my second DIY screening of Redline, here is, at long last, a prettied-up version of my most popular reddit post, an unabashed love letter to my favorite movie. Most of this is probably less groundbreaking than it was when I first posted it a decade(!) ago, but whatever, the internet needs more Redline content anyway.

REDLINE Trivia

–JP stands for Joshua Punkhead, and in the very first draft he had 26 children and raced to pay off his child support. Also, the catchy moniker ‘Sweet JP’? English-only… the original Japanese gets the mouthful ‘very sweet weaponless prince’.

–You'd be hard-pressed to tell without looking into the lore a bit, but Miki & Todoroki are damn near the only actual humans in the movie; everyone else is some species of alien. Some are obvious, like Shinkai (Oceanic/Chikulun hybrid) and Trava (Anista tribe), but even the most human-like characters are some other race. Sonoshee, for example, is listed as being half human, half Oceanic tribe (海洋族). 

The most curious case, though, is JP. While it'd be easy to assume he's human, there's a lot of details that don't add up: his unique elf ears, his super-lanky-even-for-a-Koike-character-design physique, the fact that his race is conspicuously redacted on his bail sheet… and his seeming immunity to death. Seriously, bro crashes every single thing he drives in the whole movie, then emerges unscathed with just a fiery flash of the eyes – that ain’t normal. If I had to wildly speculate, and I do, I’d put money that he’s somehow linked to Mikuru and the Giant species, as seen in Trava: Fist Planet. The physique matches, the Giants have displayed some preternatural healing abilities, and Trava lays the groundwork for a few other threads in Redline (namely, the existence of bioweapons and Shinkai & Trava’s past military experience), so there’s precedence. Maybe one day we’ll find out for sure…

–We all know and love Funky Boy thanks to the Roboworld president’s endless tirades. But the giant data-motivated crocodile monster Volton fuses with to engage Funky Boy in thrilling combat? She is a lady, and her name is Wire Girl.

–All of Redline’s vehicle and mechanical designs are nuts – they’re insanely complicated and filled with organic curves and details. Despite the immense difficulty of keeping such complex designs consistent, every mechanical shot is hand-drawn, without the aid of any CG. To help the animators stay on-target while drawing, the team made some sweet-ass production models for them to reference. What I wouldn’t give to own one of these…

–Before deciding on Redline being a film, writer Katsuhito Ishii and director Takeshi Koike considered making a TV series. Initial writers’ meetings saw the team fleshing out a comprehensive story bible about the setting: it included not only a wide-scope view of the universe and its history, but also detailed backstories for each racer. Even after deciding to make a feature film, Redline’s initial script gave each racer as much time and focus as the final cut gives to JP & Sonoshee; all of this was, unfortunately, cut for time. According to Ishii, though, much of this ancillary information made it into the novelization…

one day my Japanese will be good enough to read you ;_;

–Confused about why the movie ends with that sparkly, PowerPoint-ass ~LOVE~? Well, you shouldn’t be – Redline is ‘unabashedly dumb’, after all, per Ishii – but there is a little context. Over the course of the movie’s 7-year production, Koike and Yukiko (a producer on the film) fell in love, tying the knot in Switzerland just before Redline’s world premiere. If that doesn’t justify the ending for you, I don’t know what could.

–This isn't trivia but idk where else to put this stupid-ass Lynchman meme I made

Subtext you may have missed on first watch

–Machine Head is Sonoshee's estranged father?!

Crazy, I know, but hear me out. 

First of all, Redline unambiguously shows the viewer that Sonoshee and Machine Head have some sort of pre-existing relationship, the nature of which isn’t explicitly clarified. 

At the Oasis restaurant, Sonoshee tells JP she's waiting for someone; it may sound like she's simply brushing him off, but the moment Machine Head enters the scene, Sonoshee perks up and waves to him. When the Crab Sonoshee is flipped by missile fire during the Redline race, we get exactly two (2) Dramatic Anime Freezeframes: JP and Machine Head, implying those two, out of everyone, care the most about Sonoshee. During the final stretch of the race, as Machine Head prepares to pop his steamlight, he is not only aware that Sonoshee also has one, he taunts her about it:

“I see you still have your steamlight – got the guts to use it this time?”

JP even draws attention to the fact that Sonoshee’s looks identical to Tetsujin’s. Finally, though this is certainly ancillary, it is interesting to note that the exact moment Godwing loses its structural stability is right after JP declares he’s going to win because he, not Machine Head, has Sonoshee at his side.

So let’s line this up with what backstory we definitively know. As stated above, Sonoshee is a human / Oceanic hybrid; Machine Head, though his body has been modified beyond recognition, is referred to the same way. While talking to JP about the steamlight, Sonoshee says her father is the one that gave it to her, then describes him as a skilled racer who ran a junk joint. In that same conversation, when JP suggests she’s too focused on racing at the expense of personal relationships, she bristles and tries to end the conversation. During the flashback of young Sonoshee racing, her reaction to crashing is intense: she’s clearly holding herself to a higher standard, and is already dead set on racing in the Redline someday.

Now, there’s other plausible explanations for all this; maybe there’s just a romantic entanglement between Sonoshee and Machine Head, with JP barging in as the third vertex of a love triangle. But is that the most likely scenario for two people constantly characterized as putting racing before any personal matters?

No, I think Machine Head is Sonoshee’s father. 

Picture it: Machine Head raised Sonoshee at his junk joint, so she grew up around racing and car modification. After seeing success on the circuits, Machine Head stopped being content with mere victory, and started spending all his time and energy modifying his body, pushing himself farther and farther. Sonoshee, feeling neglected and cast aside, turned to racing, seeing it as the only way to get her father’s attention. This lead to her perfectionism complex; if she’s not the very best, why would the King of Kings ever look her way?

Anyway, while it’s not confirmed in the text, I think there’s so many hints it might as well be. It makes JP and Sonoshee’s romance a lot more interesting, too. Their arc isn’t just two people falling in love, it’s about Sonoshee moving past the trauma of her father’s emotional abandonment and opening up to someone new. After JP explains his match fixing history in the climax, Sonoshee isn’t placated because he told the truth, she’s fired up seeing the strength of JP and Frisbee’s friendship: she sees the folly of chasing approval from her absent father, and that she could instead be forming bonds with friends who support her unconditionally. She can race for herself.

Koike and Ishii said Redline is about adult friendships, after all!

pictured: the most romantic kiss in cinema history

–The Redline race is, in fact, underhanded political maneuvering

Now, this one is sorta just The Plot Of The Movie, but I feel like there’s so much going on in Redline people often don’t connect these dots. 

We all laugh at the Roboworld president’s hammy word salad:

“I wonder if this might be some kind of ploy by our enemies to infiltrate our borders. If that’s true, do you realize Roboworld’s military secrets could be at risk here? We’d be exposed!!”

…but he’s… kinda right, though?

At the time of the movie, the M3 Nebula has just emerged from two devastating interplanetary wars. The galaxy’s superpowers are under a tenuous peace agreement – one of the most important stipulations of which is a ban on the use and development of “bioweapons”, which in the Redline universe are less ‘weaponized bacterial strains’ and more ‘gargantuan synthetic monsters that can be deployed to wreak unthinkable destruction’. Despite this ban, the government of Roboworld has been continuing with bioweapon development unabated… and not only does Planet Supergrass seem to be aware of these violations, it really seems like they’re leveraging all their soft power to expose them.

Now, we know Supergrass is generally involved with the Redline final. As a member of the Redline Committee, they have a reason to be involved; they’re helping out with nuts & bolts logistical stuff, like transporting the racers to the course and prepping the finish line. But when you consider the significant, tangible political blows dealt to Roboworld by the race – Funky Boy and Wire Girl’s presumed destruction, Roboworld’s violation of the bioweapon treaty being broadly exposed to the public, the decimation of Roboworld’s military – the long string of coincidences that got us to that point start to seem a little suspicious.

Who pushed for the Redline final to be held on such a hostile planet? Who knew about Roboworld’s experimental orbital laser cannon – a project so tightly under wraps even their president only learns about it during the race – and hired contractors to sabotage it? Who organized a group of malcontents to attack both Roboworld’s power relay station and Funky Boy’s containment creche, right when such disruptions would be the most impactful? And who decided the race’s crucial middle stretch should go right over the restricted military zone housing said creche?

Supergrass has the motive and the means – plus, the race is already illegal, so what can Roboworld do, sue them about it? No sir, that Princess is on some subterfuge shit, and Secretary Titan, that shady fuck, is her inside man. And you can take that to the bank.

Craving more REDLINE?

Unfortunately, due to the movie’s commercial failure, there’s not much else in the franchise. The Redline production pilot is fucking sick, though, and there’s Trava: Fist Planet, an OVA by Koike & Ishii that predates Redline and focuses on Trava and Shinkai’s misadventures. While Trava never got the continuation it deserved, they did make a trailer for season 2... ahh, what could have been.

If you’re just after more of Takeshi Koike’s mind-blowing animation, there’s only a scant few projects in his trademark black-filled style. His most well-known work is probably the Samurai Champloo OP, or maybe World Record from The Animatrix (can’t find a link for that one, but y’know, do your thing). Koike also contributed animation to two other Ishii films: an extended intro for Party 7, and this aggressively horny dance sequence for Funky Forest. Back at Madhouse, it seems the studio liked to use Koike as a bait-and-switch, letting him direct lavish production pilots to secure adaptation rights then switching the staff up for the full production. Feels kind of scummy, but we got the immense Afro Samurai Pilot and Iron Man Pilot out of it. Finally, he made the series of Love shorts for SMAPxSMAP, the SMAP variety show, which are as dope as they are low-res.

I really wanna know if Koike was the one ballin out to CYNE and Gang Starr for this

—

And finally, as I threatened in my last post about Redline: let’s talk thematic depth.

~Thematic Depth~

In conversations online, Redline is often given this caveat of just being ‘eye candy’, or hit with the classic ‘style over substance’ cliche. Now, the phrase ‘style over substance’ has always bothered me, generally – it feels like it comes from folks who have never tried to make art before, who make light of the painstaking work and dedication that goes into creating anything – but it particularly frustrates me in animation. The process of animation is such an absurd, masochistic timesink that it’s a wonder anything ever gets finished at all; something this ambitious being finished, with this level of consistency and polish, is nothing short of a miracle, and to simply call that ‘style’ massively undervalues the whole endeavor. 

Because, make no mistake, Redline is ambitious as hell from a visual standpoint. The consistent focus on kinetic motion and speed, buoyed by Koike’s masterful use of exaggerated perspective, spatial distortion, and dynamic camera work; lots of moving, hand-drawn backgrounds instead of matte pans; lively crowd animation in most scenes; remarkably expressive, constant character animation that imbues personality to every character and never settles for industry standard lip flap dialogue… and all of this using incredibly complex character & mechanical designs, many of which feature distinct alien physiology, and a rendering style with bold, detailed shadows that would be more at home in illustration than animation. It is truly a singular work.

And the thing is, that wild ambition and unfailing dedication to the craft is the message.

The very first moments of Redline, before we see a single car or alien, are a brief series of title cards. I think most first-time viewers, and even many repeat viewers, immediately forget these words seconds after reading them due to the famously high-octane opening act. They read:

“In the far distant future, when cars are giving up their wheels in the changeover to air-cars, there still exist stubborn fools who carry on a vanishing spirit of racing…”

It’s easy to pass over this narration because, well, Redline simply isn’t about this conflict. We don’t see a single air-car racer, and there is no on-screen depiction of this purported old-school / new-school racing divide. So why is it here?

Because it’s the thesis of the whole damn project. Redline is about a group of old-school animation industry vets coming to terms with a changed industry that doesn’t support the type of art they want to create anymore, and their determination to pour their hearts into one last, stupid, beautiful swan song.

Madhouse was founded in 1972 by a group of ex-Mushi Pro staff, including Masao Maruyama and Yoshiaki Kawajiri. A response to Mushi Pro’s shoestring budgets and spartan timelines, the goal of studio Madhouse was to create production schedules where animators could flourish, rather than choosing the cheaper route; as Maruyama puts it, their mission statement was to ‘create animation other people aren’t interested in creating’. And, well, for decades, that’s what they did – Madhouse consistently gave a platform to idiosyncratic creators and produced incredible results. Their film canon includes pivotal productions like Kawajiri’s Ninja Scroll and Vampire Hunter D Bloodlust, Rintaro’s Metropolis, every single Satoshi Kon production from Perfect Blue to Paprika, and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, the film that launched Mamoru Hosoda into stardom. While their TV output might be seen as more workmanlike, they were still dedicated to creating original stories. For example, despite his proven track record, Masaaki Yuasa was unable to secure funding and creative freedom anywhere else but Madhouse, with whom he produced Kemonozume, Kaiba, and The Tatami Galaxy prior to the establishment of Science Saru.

Takeshi Koike’s formative years as an animator were during this golden era of Madhouse. Poached directly out of high school by Yoshiaki Kawajiri himself, Koike was taken under his wing – his first job as a professional animator was inbetweening for Wicked City, and he’d moved up to key animation roles just one year later. I think Kawajiri’s intent was for Koike to be his protege; in this boom era of animation, with high-budget feature films and OVAs as the de facto standard, creative vision and a unique style is what you’d look for in an up-and-coming director, and Koike had both of these in spades. For a time, this pathway seemed almost assured; Koike’s big-league directing debut on The Animatrix produced one of its most well-received shorts, even amidst an anthology stacked with superstar creative talent.

Unfortunately, the turn of the millennium brought a lot of change for Madhouse and the industry at large. Budgets shrank, and production schedules started trending towards today’s unsustainable nightmare grind. CGI became ubiquitous not for the unique shots and compositions it allows for, but as a corner-cutting method for complicated actors like vehicles or mechas. A certain homogeneity and tendency toward ‘safe’, appealing designs and premises took hold; what good is your off-the-wall, creative worldbuilding idea when the anime industry revolves around merch sales, and generic moe waifus are outselling your original IP ten-to-one? All these industry vets could see the writing on the wall: animation would survive, but things were changing, and the ideals they’d founded their studio around were becoming untenable.

So I genuinely believe Redline is a parting shot from the old guard, a celebration of the era of the industry they cut their teeth on, one last lush, extravagant farewell before they passed the torch to the next generation. Maybe not from the start, sure, but after years of troubled development, progressing slowly due to the team’s meticulous vision, I think they rallied around the cause, dead set on making a masterwork, no matter what. Just look at the talent they attracted, the staff list reads like a best-of: Shinya Ohira, Hiroyuki Imaishi, Sushio, Yoshiaki Kawajiri, Sayo Yamamoto, Katsuya Yamada, Takafumi Hori. 

And that’s where we come back to that opening message, about those stubborn fools. Suddenly, that movie chock-full of characters putting everything on the line for their passions feels a lot more personal. Koike is JP, the traditional [animation / racing ] purist who’s become an anachronism and just wants to be able to do things his way; Kawajiri as the God of Racing, who JP’s looked up to since he was younger, giving him one last thumbs as he achieves his goals; and Maruyama as Frisbee, putting his livelihood in danger to buy his team the time and money they need for one last gig, who wants to see his friend finish the damn thing on his own terms, just this once. 

In a way, it makes it heartbreaking that Redline performed financially as poorly as it did; Japan’s frosty reception to the movie is at such odds with the fervor of its creators. But you know what? Redline exists, and it exists without compromises. They did what they set out to do. They made it across that finish line.

—

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy VIII

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) ->chapter map

VIII. 

-It’s possible you’re hanging around the art building a little early for your shift, on the day you know Matt’s critique is going down. You can’t eavesdrop without making yourself obvious, but you hover in the hallway, pretending to look at student work on the wall. 

The moment you see Matt as he exits Wick’s classroom, you know it didn’t go well. “What did he say?” you ask with a frown, unable to fathom what problems the professor might have found with Matt’s work. 

Matt, however, just shakes his head. “He’s such an asshole. He picked apart every fucking little thing. We’re not fucking medical students, I don’t know the name of every muscle and bone.” You can tell he’s in a terrible mood over it, and you offer a sympathetic smile. 

“I guess…he’s just trying to make sure you learn.” You can’t think of anything else to say. You’ve forgotten a lot, but you remember having to draw medical style diagrams in life drawing 101. It’s not unreasonable on Wick’s part to expect it, unfortunately. 

“Why do you always apologize for him?” The edge in Matt’s tone takes you aback. You’ve never seen this side of your usually sweet and laid back art student, but everyone has a bad day once in a while. 

“I’m not. I’m sorry he was mean to you. That’s fucked up.” 

Maybe Wick is having a bad day too? You think about how sweet he was to you at the beginning of the semester, compared to the professional coolness he treats you with now. Something is up with that man, and maybe you shouldn’t care, but a part of you wonders what demons he’s fighting on the daily. You’re sure it hasn’t been easy, after his wife died.   

Matt groans, raking his fingers through his long hair agitatedly. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly. “Want to hang out tonight?” he offers. “The guys and I are going to watch a movie.”

“Uh…” You feel terrible, but you would rather eat glass than hang out with his friends. You want to cheer him up though. “You can come over to my place if you want.” 

He looks at you, tilting his head like he's reading everything between your lines. “What's wrong with my place?”

“Matt…I do not feel ok around your friends.”

He looks at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets. “They don't mean anything by it.”

“Yes they do. You are way too sweet to be hanging around with those assholes.”

He bristles at this. “They’re my friends. They're like my family. I've known them my whole life.”

“Okay?”

“So you’re too good for us, huh?”

You're know he's just in a bad mood, but it still stings like a knife between the ribs. “I didn't say that.”

“Sure. I see you, y/n.”

He clearly had a chip on his shoulder about this, and you hate it, that there's a part of you that wants to cave. That wants to believe you're overreacting, and that your survival instincts are just off, and you’re being a stuck up bitch. 

Deep down, you know you’re not. 

You've put yourself in uncomfortable situations like this before for boys…and you're not going to do it again. No matter how heartbreakingly handsome Matt is, or how good a kisser. 

“Don’t be like that. Come over. I'll make you dinner. We can watch any movie you want.” You lift your eyebrows at him, and only an idiot wouldn’t understand the code for we can makeout while a movie plays in the background.

He looks up at you through his hair, and you can tell he's sorely tempted. But pride wins out, and he shakes his head. You guess it's bros before hoes. How predictable.

Well, they can just have themselves a circle jerk for all you care. 

You watch him stump away, and you don't know why your eyes sting and your chest feels too tight.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 94

Drowning by aparticularbandit

I’m Excited!~ 

Both because I just really like todays fic, and also because this is another piece that I’m particularly fond of both with the end result and the process of making it!

Let’s talk about the fic this time first! Spice it up a little!

Love this one! A lot! And if I’m not having a severe lapse in my memory this was actually my introduction to Bandits work! While I haven’t read all of it (yet), what I’ve managed to take in so far is truly lovely! Bandit consistently has a very strong way of putting words together, the inner monologues written for whatever character we happen to be following are so good! Go read!!

I mentioned Drowning quite a few days ago, as it inspired two of the pieces playing with the idea of Junkan’s dynamic when portrayed using the Alter Ego flavor of Junko. So it seemed pretty fucking obvious that when making a list of what fics to make fanart of in this section of the project, that Drowning would have to be one of the first ones I did.

I love the process of Mikan internally explaining how it felt to finally remember Junko after being forced to forget her in the Neo World Program. I think there’s still intricacies to the wording that I’ve yet to pick up on, but it’s such a fun and readable description of how that feels! I love it! And the fun little anecdote about the two watching Horror Movies together is so fucking pleasant just as an aside. Love that.

I really like Monokuma’s implementation here, short as his tenure in the text is. He is just a silly little guy amidst this very serious oneshot and then Mikan says “Junko” and he isn’t fucking around anymore. I love it! The description of Blood in DR is also nice!~ Now the like, actual Junkan part of the Junkan fic though. It’s amazing!~

First off, Mikachin as a nickname is adorable. Second off, I’m not sure how to adequately articulate WHY i love the rest of this so much? Like I can say I really, really love the kiss scene, it drives me up a wall how good it is like god DAMN. But the rest? It’s just so fuckin well put together, pure artistry, excellent. And the end? Mikan “swimming”? Perfect, cinema even. Good work. God damn.

As for the art it’s actually both a cover, AND an adaptation. The combo.

When trying to figure out how to handle this I knew a few things. I wanted Monokuma, and I wanted the cave by the beach, since I love that fucking metaphor. After a lot of thought I decided to make it an adaptation of the scene where Mikan pets Monokuma. Albeit adding my own interpretation of things, which may have been misguided depending on your perspective. There’s a chance that when drawing Junko here I softened her up further than what might have been intended. That’s the one thing that usually happens whenever I read these Junkan Fics taking place in actual canon, it’s always a little bit hard for me to tell what the general intention with Junko is in terms of her feelings towards Mikan. Not by any fault of the author(s) of course, it’s more me trying to tell if it was actually intended to be a softer Junko who does care for Mikan, or if that’s my own biases clouding my interpretation of the text. 

I just really liked the visual of Junko watching over Mikan while she figures things out until they can be together again, like a ghost but less sad. Except it’s a little sad given y’know, it’s Alter Ego Junko and also this is in canon so Mikan’s gonna “die” relatively soon after this, but also they don’t need to know that. 

I really need to draw Monokuma more often. I definitely draw him a bit . . . cuter? With a much smaller body compared to the size of his head, usually at least. I do draw him more on model sometimes, kind of a random chance whether that happens. 

Lighting this fuckin pic was so enjoyable, like some of the most fun I’d had in a while. I don’t really remember why I did the glowing pool below them in place of a floor, beyond the motif of water, but i’m really glad I did. Junko? Amazingly fun to draw, I made the color palette a bit more muted this time around and I think duller colors really work for Junko, which is funny given how maxed out she normally is. Her hair, was so god damn fun to draw, oh my god. 

Fun fact! This pic was actually how I introduced myself to Bandit sometime earlier into the event, and they’re an absolute fuckin treat to talk to, very glad I worked up the confidence to do so. Definitely adds a bit more sentimental value to this art in specific!~ 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~