#haven't seen y'all in forever

[sickonthedancefloor]

Unexpected Dinner Company

Prompt: “And Suga called to ask if I was fine. I replied saying that I’m bored because I’m all alone and then after a while, Suga came to the dormitory with chicken in his hand! I was so touched at the time I fell for him without even realizing it. If I was a girl, I would definitely fall in love!”

That one time Hoseok got stress-induced enteritis and Yoongi took him to the hospital.

Sickie: Hoseok Caretakers: Yoongi Content: fevers, emeto, stomach aches

The music pauses again. Hoseok stands by the sound system in their little practice room, eyes holding an intense stare as he focuses on the device. It was the holidays, but seeing as his family lived so far from Seoul in Gwangju, he had opted to save his parents the train money and just spent the break at their small dorm. It had been rather peaceful, the entire dorm out for the two weeks break, save for the two who stood in the dance room. Originally, it had been only Hoseok, but his hyung—bless his heart, truly—had opted to stay a little later than planned and kept him company.

The other occupant? Yoongi. A year older then Hoseok but with far more wisdom in the industry than Hoseok would have ever guessed, with his sharp understanding of the choreography and his willingness to keep working with him.

“Seok-ah,” Yoongi calls from his spot on the ground. “Seok-ah, you didn’t make a mistake.”

“I did, hyung,” Hoseok insists. He’s breathing heavily, the strain of the practice pressing almost like a weight against his chest. He takes a sip of his water and lets the cool liquid rest in his mouth before swallowing it. But only one sip, he couldn’t weigh himself down with water until he felt like he’d accomplished the scene. Setting the bottle back down, Hoseok turns to the older rapper. “Can we try it again?”

Yoongi nods. “Start it from the end of the verse, we’ll launch into the chorus better.”

Hoseok answers with a nod of his own. He presses the forward button until the MP3 sped up to where they needed, then scurries back into his spot. The music begins again, and right at the beat, both boys jump and launch right into the choreography, checking their motions through the mirror before them. It was an intense song, lots of stomping and harsh moves while being quicker than it needed to be for the lyrics. But it was a cover; the band beforehand had put harsh, fast moves for effect. Their choreographer wanted to see if they could tackle it as rookies. The monthly trainee evaluation for January was delayed for the end of the month because of the holidays, so they had time to nail it. But they were determined to do well, and Yoongi noticed one of their hardest workers was his younger companion. Hoseok had a spirit about him that couldn’t be tampered. Truly, he finds it rather inspiring to work with him, even though the days are long and often tiring.

As the song trails to a stop, both boys just drop to sit on the scuffed wooden floor, breathing heavily as the song began to repeat itself through the speakers from the beginning. They’re already drenched with sweat, muscles burning from the intense movements they’ve been doing. And this is only after Yoongi had joined in; Hoseok, some strange form of early bird, had been to the studio for an hour or two already just dancing around, before he’d come back for breakfast.

Honestly, giving him a key to the dance studio was a bad idea. Hoseok spent half his life in that room, had already spent part of the holiday before Yoongi had even gotten out of bed.

It had been an hour and a half already, nearly two… Honestly, Yoongi wants to pass this evaluation but he wants lunch more. “Come on, Seok-ah, you’ve got this in the bag.”

Hoseok shakes his head, but something just looks off about him. He looks uncomfortable, like something was bothering him, and Yoongi doesn’t think it was just the choreography.

“One more time…”

Yoongi sighs. “I’m tired, Seok-ah… Come on, let’s get food and go home.”

Well, to the dorm. Their home away from home. The dancer affixes Yoongi with a disappointed look, teetering on the edge of asking to stay, but instead he sighs. “Okay. Let’s… let’s do cool-down and go back.”

Yoongi smiles, and he can see the younger one tries to return it. Hoseok slips a hand under his shirt and rubs his stomach; maybe it really is just hunger. Hopping to his feet, Yoongi goes to turn the music off, then heads over to help Hoseok to his feet. He feels his friend’s sweaty hand grip his and yanks him to his feet, only to have Hoseok stumble and tilt on edge. He almost drops to his knees but he catches himself with a step forward, both hands pressed on his thighs to keep him upright.

“Hoseok-ah!?”

“Hyung…” Hoseok grimaces. “Y-yeah?”

He’s sweating, and hard. Now, dancing for nearly four hours will do that to anyone, and there’s always times they find themselves in various states of undress from just dancing or working too hard. But something is definitely off. Hoseok’s breathing is rough, even with their short break.

“C’mon… let’s go sit down.”

Hoseok gives a shaky nod and lets Yoongi lead him to the plastic chairs shoved in the corner, dropping onto one of them. He leans forward again, propping one elbow against his knee, his other hand moving back to his stomach. Yoongi doesn’t sit just yet, instead choosing to bring Hoseok his water bottle, fanning him lightly with his own ballcap. Hoseok mumbles a small thanks, but he stays still and just tries to calm his breathing. He manages to calm down enough, but he looks uncomfortable as he sits back up.

“You okay?”

Hoseok nods. “I think breakfast just didn’t sit too well with me.”

Breakfast? But… all Yoongi could recall seeing him was some egg toast and soup. That usually sat well with everyone. Maybe their eggs were going bad. Yoongi reaches over to ruffle Hoseok’s hair, pointing to his jacket. “Let’s just hurry back. Maybe you just need something good for lunch.”

That earned a smile. “Cooking from hyung? I’m so lucky.”

Yoongi loved that smile. At least Hoseok seemed well enough to keep his spirit. And he immediately launched into a soft whine as he picked at his tee, completely damp with sweat, clinging to his chest. He decides he’s showering first, and honestly, it’s for the better; he smells sweaty. The whole room does, and often. Yoongi turns off the music and plugs in their scented dark light from the corner, hoping to take down some of the smell while they’re gone. Throwing on his cap, he leaves his jacket off and fishes for the keys to drive the two back to the dorm.

~*~

Hoseok still isn’t doing much better. Both are freshly showered and changed, and despite his tanned complexion, Hoseok just looks ashen. He says he’s okay, not one for much complaining (he called it professionalism, Yoongi called it being too brave sometimes), but Yoongi brings him a cup of tea when he notices Hoseok just holding his stomach. He figures it’s cramping, probably from too much work and not enough food, so he returns with a small bowl of seasoned rice and a spoon. Something to snack on while he finished the meat. By the time he finished, he finds the bowl of rice half eaten and Hoseok seems a little more relaxed. Yoongi sighs, placing their small row of banchan down before setting down the meat. He’s brought more rice for the two of them.

The way Hoseok’s eyes light up at the sagymeopsal just makes his day. It isn’t much, but Hoseok looks so happy he goes for a piece first instead of his usual kimchi. “Ahh hyung, this is really good!” he compliments, muffled by the meat.

Yoongi can’t help but grin back, nodding shyly as he waves the compliment off. He grabs his own piece and begins to eat. As dinner passes, Yoongi notices Hoseok seems more lively, definitely less uncomfortable than earlier. He eats a lot too, and both boys find themselves flopped on the floor in the living room, idly watching some reality dating show as they breathe through the food.

“I don’t think I can move to clean all this up,” Hoseok mumbles with a laugh. His hand finds his stomach again, bloated from probably eating so much, and he merely rubs up and down to soothe himself. But he looks happy, relaxed; and that’s all Yoongi really wanted. Perhaps today was just stressful from all the dancing. Yoongi makes a note to lecture him later, probably teasingly, but he figures right now, with how peaceful they both are, he doesn’t need to say anything. The two of them fall asleep right there on the rug, neither waking until one of the managers messaged them both late in the evening to check on them.

~*~

“Bored” with four frowny faces is the only text Yoongi receives when he checks on the dancer. His parents convinced him to come home for at least Christmas, and he agrees, especially seeing as he has some gifts for them that he afforded with his part-time job. Yoongi hasn’t spent a lot of time at home; his parents hadn’t been the most approving of his choice to join Bighit and become a trainee, and while they weren’t actively sabotaging him, it was hard to be around them with questioning remarks on if they’d debut and not have any real answers to give them. But he’s been making leaps and bounds in the rap world; he fought hard enough to make it into Bighit, he really isn’t worried. His parents had, thankfully, decided not to dwell and the few days were rather peaceful.

But every once in a while, his mind had drifted back to Hoseok. Hoseok who dragged himself out of bed early the day after their long studio morning to go right back to dancing, who had been putting on good faces up until it came time for Yoongi to head home. Hoseok who had been randomly spamming the chat just because he didn’t have company in their normally hectic noisy dorm. He must have been sad, spending another holiday up in Seoul instead of Gwangju with his family. But Hoseok said it was worth it; he didn’t want his parents to foot more roundtrip fare to get him home for Christmas when he’d only be gone for a few days, and his sister also hadn’t gone home; they could just video chat, he told them.

So Yoongi had decided that morning that he was leaving early. He tells his parents goodbye, kicks his brother playfully, and takes off back to the dorms.

As a bonus, with some extra cash his parents give him, he buys fried chicken. It’s a holiday tradition somewhere, he’s sure. Japan, he thinks? He’s not sure what the origin is but he knows it probably has to do with America. Whatever it is, he’s sure it’ll still be enjoyable.

Opening the door, Yoongi quickly shouts that he’s back, and finds Hoseok laying back on the floor in the living room watching a drama on their television, hand lazily fiddling with a tea bottle. The younger one grins at his arrival, attention immediately shifted. “Hyung! You’re back! Hey!”

Hoseok honestly doesn’t look good at all. Once again, just like he’d caught him in the practice room, he was pale and a little sweaty again, with a hand pressed against his stomach. Maybe it was just hunger again, but given how he was so pale… Yoongi was starting to doubt it.

“Brought chicken too.” Yoongi puts on a smile and sets it down on the table in front of him.

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “You came back early and brought food? Hyung, you must be an angel.”

The two laugh, and Hoseok clears a space on the table and hurries to his feet. He pauses, trying not to stagger; Yoongi’s quick to grab his arm to support him. “Hoseok-ah?”

The younger dancer grimaces, eyes shut as he takes a deep breath. He releases it with a shudder, his hand reaching up to rub at his head. “Sorry, hyung… I got dizzy for a second.”

“You don’t look well… here, sit. Let me get it for you.” Yoongi helps Hoseok back to the floor cushion, handing him his tea again, unscrewing the bottle for him. The bottle is still mostly full. “Drink some, okay?”

Hoseok nods, and goes to sip as Yoongi to the kitchen to grab a drink for himself. There’s not much in their little fridge, but he finds two colas and brings them out. It’s a special occasion; surely, whichever trainee had this will understand. He’s not sure if Hoseok will be up for the carbonation, but he wants to keep the offer there. As he returns, he finds Hoseok leaning forward, rubbing his stomach again.

Yoongi sighs. He’s glad he came when he did; Hoseok doesn’t need to be alone like this. They wait until Hoseok seems to feel a little better, whining as he sniffs the air. “Hyung… the chicken smells so good.”

“But do you think you can eat it?” Yoongi moves his hand to rub at the back of Hoseok’s neck, smiling as he watches his dongsaeng’s shoulders droop. “Is your stomach bothering you?”

Hoseok sighs. “A little, yeah…” But both boys knew Hoseok was lying; he could barely tell a convincing lie on a good day, but he looks downright uncomfortable to be where he is. Still, to prove himself, he reaches over and pulls off a piece and takes a bite. Yoongi watches him closely as Hoseok chews and swallows… and immediately leans forward.

“A lot… come on, Seok-ah, can you stand?”

“I get dizzy… I’m already a little dizzy.”

Shit. Hoseok isn’t a short kid, either. Doesn’t weigh much thankfully, but it’s all muscle. Hoseok’s always been lean limbs and slim muscles, but that doesn’t make him the lightest. Yoongi isn’t going to let them stay there though, not while Hoseok seems to be struggling so hard. He closes the travel box, sure they can put it up later, and goes to help Hoseok to his feet. And Hoseok sways. His skin goes ashen almost immediately, his eyes unfocused, and he knees seem to refrain from shaking by sheer force of will. For a solid second, Yoongi doesn’t think he can catch him, but Hoseok stumbles a step forward just in time.

The young dancer sighs. “Sorry, hyung… I kind of want to sit down.”

Yoongi just moves to Hoseok’s side. “We’re gonna need to take you to a hospital. There’s no way you can do anything like this.”

What worries Yoongi next is the immediate lack of protesting that came after. Hoseok mulls over the idea, as another grimace of pain washes over his face, and Yoongi just wraps an arm around his waist. He really does not seem to be feeling good.

“Come on, Seok-ah, let’s go.”

It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like to walk Hoseok downstairs from their dorm, but Hoseok goes without complaint. Besides a hitch of breath or a pause to wince, he doesn’t utter a single complaint. But Yoongi can feel how strained Hoseok’s small answers to his questions are, the slight tremble from under his arms. Hoseok’s skin feels so hot under his touch. When they make it downstairs, Hoseok takes to sitting on the side stairs while Yoongi orders a taxi. They’d considered the subways for all of one minute before Hoseok’s footing had slipped, and Yoongi opted against it. A taxi ride wouldn’t be awful on the finances; Yoongi’s sure replacing the sodas will cost more.

~*~

“That was… the worst taxi ride,” Hoseok grumbles as he leans heavily on Yoongi. Yoongi can’t disagree; the drive was rough, the traffic stop-and-go, and he’d taken to holding Hoseok’s hand to keep the younger dancer calm. But Hoseok’s face had taken on a greenish tint, and they weren’t even in the doorway before Hoseok pushes away from Yoongi.

“Seok-ah—”

And… splat. Hoseok leans forward by the trash can at the entrance, eyes screwed shut as he vomits again. Yoongi sighs, moving over to hold him up by his shoulders. He rubs his back with his other arm, trying to keep him calm.

“It’s okay, Seok-ah, let it out. I know it hurts.”

His hand rubs slow circles on his back, grimacing as he feels Hoseok’s back tense as he vomits another mouthful. He’s feeling warmer, and Hoseok can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt. He’s shaking completely now, one hand holding onto the pillar in the front, the other gripping his knee with white knuckles. He looks so weak, so strange, and Yoongi hates it. Hoseok, to Yoongi, has always been a strong young man; he’s always been up to every challenge, takes every job seriously, tackles every challenge he’s faced with his chin up and head held high. He’d dealt with feeling this poorly without complaining about anything. It startles Yoongi to know his friend has been suffering without asking for help at all.

But hyung’s here now. Yoongi’s not going to let him suffer alone.

Once Hoseok finishes, Yoongi’s arm around his shoulders tightens to help him up before he stumbles. Hoseok feels unsteady on his feet and he looks completely grey, and exhausted.

“Think you can make it inside?” Yoongi asks softly. “Or do you want to wait here and I’ll get a nurse—”

The automatic doors open, and a nurse hurries out with a handful of tissues. He hurries over to the pair. “Is he okay? Drunk?”

Hoseok accepts the napkins with a small mumble of thanks, wiping his mouth with the paper.

Yoongi decides to take charge talking to the nurse. He swallows his annoyance that every adult thinks the youth are nothing but trouble, and figures being direct is the best way to solve the issue.

“He’s sick. He’s having really bad stomach pain and a fever now.” Yoongi’s frown grew. “The taxi ride up here was really bad.”

The nurse, thankfully, nods and looks at Hoseok, taking in an initial evaluation. Hoseok is still unsteady but Yoongi’s holding him closely, and the man holds up one finger and hurries inside. He comes back out with a wheelchair. “Come on, let your friend sit here, we can go inside and get him signed in.”

That brings a smile to Yoongi’s lips. Finally, Hoseok will get some help.

~*~

Curled on his side in the hospital’s open room, Hoseok yawns as he looks at Yoongi. “Sorry, hyung, I know this was a lot.”

Yoongi just reaches over to stroke his hair. “That’s stupid, don’t apologize for being sick. Do they need to give you more painkillers?”

Hoseok gives a rough laugh. Through an IV, he’s received some fantastic painkillers, antinausea medication, and antibiotics, and he is completely relaxed under the thick blanket. The hospital is warm, but the medication working through his veins felt cold enough to give him a chill. While he was being examined, Yoongi had called their manager to give him a heads up and the staff promised to reimburse Yoongi for all of his efforts. Feeling a little more appreciated by the staff, albeit a little bashful for the compliments, he’d hurried off the call to return to Hoseok’s bedside.

Hoseok is already looking a little better. He’s not as pale, his cheeks finally taking on a rosier tint rather than the ashen grey he had earlier. He also didn’t look as stressed, but his eyes blink almost more rapidly as he looks at the older rapper. Yoongi reaches a hand over, stroking Hoseok’s hair back.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

“Hm?” Yoongi smiles down, long fingers raking across Hoseok’s scalp. He watches as the younger dancer’s eyelids grow heavy, another yawn escaping; Hoseok brings the corner of the blanket to his mouth and yawns into it again. As he begins to drift off, he mumbles a soft but solid, “Thank you, hyung. You’re the best.”

That startles Yoongi. Looking away as his neck begins to feel hot, he just shrugs. “You’d do the same for me, so… It’s nothin’.”

The smile on Hoseok’s face is the only indicator he’s heard, but neither of them say more.

“Sleep well, Hob-ah.”

[svtskneecaps]

see everyone worried and fretted and panicked and yet quesadilla island looked at pepito and went

[episodes-without-incident]

I just wanted to say that when people send me kind asks, I tend to hoard them rather than answering, but I really do appreciate them so much! <3 I've said it before, but this is by far the nicest fandom I've ever been in, and it's an honor to do my silly little stats for you all.

[arcane-vagabond]

Tomorrow will probably be dedicated to writing the drabble requests in my inbox. No more chapter updates until I get these story plots finalized!!!!

[leche-flandom]

I HAD THE MOST PERFECT DREAM LAST NIGHT

I dreamt that I was set to cat-sit for a neighbor. But THEN I found out that another neighbor had let the cat out and it DIED because it went swimming in a nearby creek and got hit by a motorboat (cat was orange male). So I went to Barnes & Noble to gather some research on revenge like Gone Girl, Titus Andronicus, etc. And then the manager, KEANU REEVES, asked me what I was doing with all those books because I was carrying the pile under my chin like Gus Gus with corn kernels in "Cinderella," and I told him, "They're not just books. They're ingredients." After I explained everything, Keanu decided to stop being the kindest man on earth to help me avenge the poor thing by hunting down the irresponsible neighbor and the boat guy. But we had to make out a little first, right there in the bookstore.

I WOKE UP WITH THE BIGGEST SMILE ON MY FACE

[bisextualdisator]

Snotlout also learned to sew in canon, since in one episode of rtte, he and hiccup get stuck on an island and they need to fight dragon hunters (forgot why tho💀) and since they don't want the dragons to get his with the arrows, they take screaming death scales and Snotlout sews them together to make dragon armor and when they meet up with the others again, Tuffnut asked why he didn't use a different stitch, and Snotlout had LITERALLY TOLD HICCUP THAT HE SHOULD HAVE USED THE STICH TUFFNUT SAID. and Snotlout learned all of this from his mother as well :).

Reminder that Snotlout too is an inventorter, just as Hiccup is. A prime example is that Snotlout build the special sheep catapult they use during dragon racing.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[menlove]

queer paul tome pt 1: everything not related to john

okay i've been saying i'd make this post forever and it's uh. long. so i decided to split it up into four parts so i can get this first bit out and let it stop haunting me and so it's not 50 miles long.

feel free to add your own if it's not here or shoot me an ask and i'll add it :)

disclaimer: i'm not definitively saying sir paul mccartney is queer. i mean i really firmly think he is but it's all just speculation. also, if he is, there's obviously a reason he's not out about it & he deserves to have his privacy respected. i just personally find the dominant narrative in the fandom & even in larger spaces that poor pining queer john was in love with tragically heterosexual paul completely unconvincing and neeeeeed to be insane for a minute here

if this pisses u off u can simply scroll on by i do not need an essay in my notes. make your own post if you disagree.

(paul doing this for whatever reason in beverly hills, 1974- also the same trip he saw john on bc sure i guess)

this doesn't include lyrics as the main argument bc i saw a post ages ago basically saying there's nothing outside of them and lowkey i took that as a challenge because there's SO much outside of his lyrics that point to him being queer.

that being SAID, this is going to be split into four posts: not john related (most important and thus first bc there's so much documented about mclennon & john being queer, but not paul by himself), john related, paul's relationships w other men (these ones aren't all like... concrete and that's why they aren't included here but w all the context that'll come before it his relationships to certain men are..... interesting), and finally lyrics last bc some of them you genuinely can't just ignore

part 2- john related part 3- other men part 4- lyrics (those will have links once i actually make them)

also, i'm sure people have made similar posts before- i haven't seen them (other than this one an anon sent while i was writing this up which is sooo interesting but does have a lot of dead links) but if you have one you want to share feel free!

time to get into it. i'm avoiding homework by doing this.

(sidenote: not including instances of him just flirting w men bc body language can be read a lot of different ways- but if y'all wanna add any i know they're a dime a dozen like w george m., mal, random reporters, robert fraser, etc)

1- "Just kidding, Linda..."

REPORTER: You're a very, very good looking man. PAUL: [sits up straighter, making a sort of campy gesture towards the crowd, turning into a point] Get that boy's name. [Drops his hand, smiling and leaning his cheek on his hand.] Just kidding, Linda. REPORTER: [unintelligible] PAUL: What? REPORTER: I said- do you have a secret, looking so nice for fifty years? PAUL: [grins, resting his chin on his hand again and batting his eyelashes] Yes, it's the drugs, you know.

(originally posted on here by @northernsongspeels who hasn't been active in a while) this one is so crazy to me. he's so obviously flirting with that man and he's apologizing to linda for flirting with that man. like it's a conversation they've had before.

2- "Yes, boys."

this video (originally posted by @ilovedig here)

PAUL: Yes, I think the main difference is that when you are that age- which I'm sure you remember, Tom- TOM: It's back there in the dim distant past, yes. PAUL: When you're that age, that's the kind of thing to do. I mean, what you're doing is you're going 'round and you're basically looking for girls or whatever turns you on and stuff. So, uh, yeah, I- TOM: Well- well could you give me the alternatives to girls? Are there others? LINDA: [scoffs] PAUL: Yes, boys. TOM: Oh! No.

3- "He's so good looking."

Paul McCartney first read the name and saw the photo (for weeks there was just one crazy photo of Elvis available in Britain) during a free period at Liverpool Institute. Again, it was a friend with the NME, and there was an advert for Heartbreak Hotel. "I thought, 'He's so good looking,'" Paul says, "he just looked perfect." Mark Lewisohn, All These Years Vol. 1 Tune In, sourced from the Anthology TV series by Lewisohn.

4- "A Nice Person Girl"

this fun little interview... (originally posted by @amoralto idk why the archive.org capture of it looks funky but the audio is still there) take it w a grain of salt bc it can also just read as a homophobic joke but like.

August 22nd, 1966 (Warwick Hotel, New York): As DJ “Cousin Brucie” Morrow conducts brief interviews with each of the Beatles, one by one, he asks Paul to settle the rumours that have been circulating in the press about the status of his relationship with Jane Asher. MORROW: Moving over here to Paul – someone just handed me a card. I guess this is… [focusing] Last year, when you were on my microphone here— PAUL: Ask me something about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Rick Sklar? That’s my boss. JOHN: Ask Paul about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Uh, Paul, last year when you were on my microphone, I think somebody – one of your staff – announced an engagement of you and Jane. PAUL: Uh… MORROW: Do you remember that? It was announced on the air. And then I remember we said something on the air and then thousands of people from the street went, “Oh.” What is it with you and Jane now? How – what is your relationship? Are you planning a marriage, planning an engagement, are you just boyfriend and girlfriend, what is it? Tell us the whole thing. JOHN: [mutters; inaudible] PAUL: Uh. We’re just queer, that’s the scene. [uproarious laughter in background] That’s the scene. Well I mean, I couldn’t say that on the air live, you know. JOHN: No, you’ll get into trouble for it. PAUL: No, the thing is, Cousin Bruce – um, we haven’t got plans to marry yet, you know. That’s the point. And that business about somebody saying we were engaged, nobody actually said it. It was just another one of those things where someone says, “Are they engaged?” and they said, “Well, whatever it is… [muttering]” “Yes, folks, they’re engaged!” And it wasn’t true. MORROW: Well, I’m sure there are a lot of girls who are very happy with this. What would you look for, in a girl? Say you did eventually want to settle down, what would you want to – what kind of girl would you like? What would you – what would you like in a gal you wanted to marry eventually, bring home to Mommy? PAUL: Uh… Female hormones. MORROW: Female. What’ll you go for, any – what, blonde, brunette, what? PAUL: Uh, you know, anything. Anything. Girls. It doesn’t matter if they’re blonde, brunette, or anything, as long as they’ve got it. MORROW: Would you want a nice person – what? A beautiful nice person girl. PAUL: Yeah, you know. A nice person girl. (transcription directly from @amoralto, bold mine)

and again this one COULD just be a lil homophobic joke but idk man his tone here is very different and the fact that he says he couldn't say that on air & john says he'll get in trouble is just. interesting. it's Interesting.

5- "A 26 year old queer never to get married."

Half an hour later it was very quiet, except for a few sobs, and then we decided that we had to see him just once more. We opened the gates and walked slowly in. Someone rang the doorbell. Waited, no one came, rang again. Rang again. Paul answered. We just stood there. God what do we say? "Yes, what do you want?" he said, as if we'd just come to borrow sugar. C. ran out. Someone asked if it was tomorrow, and he said, "Tomorrow." It went quiet again. "What's this - Heartbreak Hotel? What do you think I am a 26 year old queer never to get married? Oh, stick around kids!" We just looked at each other. Oh God, Paul, what have we done now. All we wanted to do was stand there and talk awhile. What was the point in shouting at us like that? We stood there, tears falling but there was no sound. "Apple Scruffs Come to Dinner" by Andrew Bailey, 1970 (x), bold mine

again, like the last one, this one is very... i think he was absolutely being homophobic here, but it's a very telling outburst. like he's yelling this harsh enough to make these girls cry.

6- Harry Harrison's "gorgeous tan"

moving onto this wild quote from many years from now by barry miles about george's older brother (bold mine):

"George Harrison’s elder brother Harry had been to Christmas Island and arrived back with a gorgeous tan in his army uniform and we thought, My God, he’s been made a man of. You used to see this quite regularly, people would be made a man of."

7- gender neutral language

let's get into some interesting gender neutral language he uses. now, would this be Particularly compelling with a modern celebrity? not really. but most people his age really don't talk gender neutrally unless it's to be vague On Purpose. like this bit from many years from now, where before this he'd been using exclusively "girl" and "she/her" pronouns talking about hookups, it suddenly shifts to very purposefully vague (bold mine):

With a lot of those people I met and related to, albeit for a short time, I've mercifully forgotten them and I don't really remember what went on, thank goodness. There may have been a few drinks involved and I was a little merry and, you know, you slip back to someone's flat... My main feeling really is one of relief. You do feel like some of it was outrageous. But I'm glad to have had a slightly outrageous period in my life, as long as it didn't hurt anybody, because I'd always felt maybe my character was too careful. I think the great thing was I never had any deep, dark secrets. That's what the papers wanted. They wanted me to be hiding a little Miss Whiplash somewhere, and for the flat to be in my name. But it was never that. It was always a one-night stand with whoever was around and wanted to party.

8/9/10- the "binary" (ft. a bit of john)

this infamous quote from the lyrics in his section on "hello goodbye" (bold mine) (x):

I'm attracted to the binary. I state that quite casually, but I think there’s actually a lot more to it than my just saying, ‘I’m attracted to the binary.’ Once you get down to the scientific biological level, in my core, I probably am the binary. All of us are probably more binary than we might realise.

context being that when he says "the binary" he means duality. there's a lot of interesting stuff going on in this article, though there's some more john related stuff i'll add here too bc it's super fascinating (sorry, easier to go here than the john section!):

‘Hello, Goodbye’ shows off a binary that we took great advantage of in The Beatles. With regard to John Lennon and myself, the great attraction we had for each other was that we each had a bit the other didn’t have. John could be quite cynical. I was his opposite, in that respect. [...] I think there definitely was a sort of ‘hello, goodbye’ about John and myself. But we loved it. We loved it because John could contribute his caustic wit and I could contribute something more upbeat. Not always, we each did what the other one did from time to time. But if you had to break it down – and though it is a bit crude to say so – there was a binary tension at the heart of our songwriting together.

11- big guys at the gym

onto something more lighthearted and also just ridiculous (x):

"If I'm in a gym and all the big guys have got big weights and they're doing all the big stuff, at the end I do a headstand," he said. "And they come over to me [and say], 'That's pretty impressive man.'" ["78-year-old Paul McCartney’s fitness routine includes headstands and yoga with Alec Baldwin" by Cory Stieg]

12- gay dreams

this infamous quote which i have a bit of a different take on that i'll expand on in a sec (bold mine)

My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control – it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there. (interview by Karen Wright for Luigi's Alcove, 2000) (x)

a lot of people use this to point to him being oblivious, which i do get, but i want to focus more on the line "it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in". like he seems interested and fascinated by the revelations we have in our dreams- hardly repressed or scared.

13- royston ellis' "break me in easy"

we've all been over the royston ellis poem and i don't want to just retype out everything that's already on this post so go check out @eppysboys' post on the royston ellis poem!

but tl;dr a bisexual friend of theirs in liverpool, royston ellis, wrote this poem called "Break Me In Easy":

Easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure I’m big time, cock-sure and brash, but easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure they’ve been others, I know the way…

which is about gay sex. he also told the boys that 1 in every 5 men was gay and paul worried that it might be him (this was back in 1960). he still remembered it line for line by 2006 which is just insane. all the sources for those are over on the linked post.

14- woody pecker

originally posted by @didwemeetsomewherebefore here (links to my blog bc the wayback machine was not cooperating right but as long as it stays up you can find the original here!)

PAUL & DONOVAN: How to suck a lollypopper, Sitting on a woodypecker, Dancing in the double-decker shoe, I don’t know, So, how do you do? PAUL: I don't know how you do it, Lordy, knows I try But every time I try to do it, My whole darn tongue gets ti(r)ed

this one is just so sillyyyyy and cute but it's just so full of innuendo like sucking on a lollypop and sitting on a woody pecker and your tongue getting tied (tired?) when you try to suck the uh lollypop. giggling his way through it with one of his boy best friends donovan too.

15- "i heard he was gay"

this fun little quote from body count by francie schwartz:

When the rotation of bike, gun, and other diversions left me alone with Billy, his first words were, "You went with Paul McCartney, didn’t you?" "I bet you just love it when people ask you about your father, don't you?" He was surprised, he half-frowned. "No, really, what's Paul like? I heard he was gay." "He might have gone that way, but he didn't. He really didn't dig fucking all that much, if that's any kind of an answer."

note here though that francie is a notoriously unreliable source on paul. she hates him and honestly makes some pretty homophobic digs at him & others pretty frequently. so it is interesting that she denies he's gay, but says he might have gone that way. given how short of a time they were together and how weird their relationship was, i wouldn't really expect him to be open about that with her- still, she noticed something there too.

16- homosexual handbook

paul was mentioned in the homosexual handbook by angelo d'arcangelo in 1968 under a list of famous homosexuals. it's very tongue in cheek and says this "may just be wishful thinking on (my) part"

and obviously not proof as the book takes a very playful and unserious tone. he does provide this little disclaimer though, which i think is interesting:

Some of the men on this list are self-acknowledged homosexuals. Some are not. All of them are generally thought to be gay. However, as many family men and notorious womanizers appear on these pages, we must—rather than question their forays into either or both sexes—congratulate them on their obvious virility.

because once again like... WHERE are these rumors about paul being gay? because the rest of this list, as far as i can tell (ngl i did not do a deep read there) are men who have/had gay rumors about them or were gay. this comes up more in the john post as well, but i seriously need to know just how many rumors there were about him being gay.

17- "the female hordes"

It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, 'Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.' I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes, and I think we all must have given the same impression. There had been a suggestion since that John had some homosexual thing with Brian, but I personally doubt it. All the intimate moments we shared were always about girls. (from Anthology)

i know putting one of his "un-gay" quotes here is counter intuitive but listen i have genuinely never heard a gayer thing come out of a man's mouth than "hunting of the female hordes" it sends me to fucking mars every time i read it. that's the most closeted shit i've ever read in my entire life. it sounds like what a gay man would say trying to come up with something a straight man would say. and i think paul's bi, he just desperately wants me to think he's never gotten pussy a day in his damn life with this quote.

as a side-note, "all the intimate moments we shared were always about girls". now what do you mean by that man..... like shared as in verbally told stories? or do you mean it was always about the girls when you guys were...... intimate? because those are two really different things and i need to know what the hell that's supposed to mean

18/19- this poor man just wants to flirt with and kiss men can we let him

okay tumblr has nerfed me and won't let me add any more videos from tumblr but there's a video of drunk paul almost kissing ringo jokingly. posted by @stewy here and as long as it's up you can reblog it here- thank u for the contribution to my red stringing lmfao

pringo for once thank god but. i don't even have anything to say except to point and think of a slur. drunk as hell flirting with your best friend what's better than that.

and then this whole interaction between paul & elton john where they kiss on the mouth

and i could so buy that this is a straight man and gay man just being comfortable together except well see above and see the other posts but also paul's very much adapting a softer, "campier" tone around him and calling him babe/darling in a very, again, gay way. not as in he's gay For elton john lmfao but this is how to old gay friends would greet each other do you see what i mean do you understand me......

anyway that's the end of part 1 join me next time (whenever the fuck i decide to avoid doing homework again um) this man has sucked a dick i'm so sure of this. (not really don't sue me for libel paul love ya)

[bitchface24-7]

PLEASANT COMPLIANCE - JAYVIK X READER

Inspired by @newgipestel and their amazing ideas for a PT2, thank them as well for this masterpiece

synopsis: things have changed between you three. Cole is long gone, but the three of you have been separated against your will. Jayce with the council, you with sponsors, and Viktor with Heimerdinger or working solo in the lab. So when the three of you have a weekend to yourselves, you take it. Your apartment is yours only now, and you’ve missed your boys desperately.

warnings: this is smut y’all, pre-established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, praise, dom!viktor, switch!jayce, sex toys, dp, unsafe sex, breeding kink, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), y’all this is filthy LMAO, grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. y’all this was a blast to write, I know y’all loved PT1 so I hope PT2 tickles your fancy as well. Oh to be the meat in the Jayvik sandwich 😩

PART 1

Waking up naked on the ruined lab couch was not part of your plans, but who are you to complain? You finally broke up with your shitty boyfriend Cole, got your back blown out by the two men you've had a crush on since forever, and they reciprocate those feelings.

Unfortunately, y'all have a gala to return back to. You've been gone for almost an hour now and people are going to wonder where you've been. Good thing you have some spare makeup lying around in the lab.

The three of you don't have the healthiest sleep schedule, so quite often one, two, or all three of you sleep in the lab at some point. Having backup makeup, a small bottle of perfume, and spare clothes lying around make life much easier. Your two boys are slowly redressing as you make your way to a simple mirror hanging on the wall.

You're a mess.

Your hair's a mess, your makeup is almost all gone, and a few hickey's grace your neck. You scan your body and find hand-shaped bruises on your hips. That's going to hurt in the morning, but it'll be worth it.

Reapplying your makeup and fixing your hair to the best of your ability, you put your dress back on. A cold hand touches your lower back as the zipper slides up effortlessly, it's Viktor.

"It's quite a shame to see those lovely marks disappear." His tone is dark as the words smoothly leave his lips in a quiet purr. You bit the inside of your cheek and look at him over your shoulder, "You can see them again later."

"Promise?" Jayce asks, his tone light and full of teasing. You roll your eyes fondly at the broad man, "Promise."

The three of you exit the lab and head back to the gala, back to the snake pit to get what you need. You need money. You need sponsers.

So that's what you're going to get.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning was hectic. Frantically running around your empty apartment to get ready for the day.

Back to your usual outfits yet you look better than over. Having the toxic ex out of your life has made you glow (getting your back blown out last night obviously doesn't have anything to do with it) you can't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Its been a while since you've seen her, and you're happy to see her again.

Unfortunately, you won't be able to see your boys for a while. You have a multitude of meetings to attend as you got many sponsors last night after your lab time with your lovers.

Hopefully everything goes to plan.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It does not go to plan. You thought that even with all of your meetings, you'd still be able to see your boys.

You haven't.

You try. Damn do you try. You go to the lab as often as you can. Teasing looks, lingering touches, long kisses, until something pops up.

Another meeting.

Another council gathering.

More work from Heimerdinger.

Prototypes that need to be made.

Equations and runes to explore.

Work.

Work.

And even more work.

All three of you can feel the tension rising. You feel overly hot around them. Your thighs tensing together, your bottom lip bit to inflammation, your eyes wandering to places they shouldn't in polite society.

Viktor and Jayce are just the exact same way.

So when the three of you have a free weekend together, you snatch it up as fast as you possibly can.

Fuck everyone else, you three need to fuck each other, now.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Getting to your apartment felt like the blink of an eye. Before you knew it you were getting pushed into your apartment as Jayce kissed you desperately, Viktor casual walks in after you two and shuts the door; locking it behind him.

Jayce groans pathetically into your mouth as you ruck his shift up and rip it apart. Buttons flying everywhere, Jayce gasps in shock as you leave his mouth to kiss down his throat, biting and nipping along your path to get to his chest.

His big eyes are watery and his face is flushed. He looks even prettier debauched as he does in his day-to-day life.

“Stop.” Viktor demands, his voice monotone and sharp. Jayce whines as you pull away, your lips puffy and pouty.

Viktor walks up to you and runs a hand down your back before cupping your waist in a bruising grip, over the pre-existing bruises from the previous night. You hiss lightly at the pleasurable pain and Viktor just smirks, “Good girl. Now, shall you lead us to your room?”

You can't help but nod excitedly, and lead them down the small hallway to your large bedroom. They can't help but admire the decor. It's all… you. The one thing they can't ignore is how large your bed is. It’s too big for one person.

But perfect for three.

Before you realize what's going on, Viktor pushes Jayce into the bed. The larger man bounces a bit as a bewildered smile overtakes his face, “Would you like for her to sit on your face Jayce? You've been pining and whining over this tidbit for the last week. So desperate, so needy.”

Jayce nods rapidly and you just giggle, taking your pants and underwear off leaving your bra and blouse on. You get onto the bed, put your legs on each side of Jayce's head and hover a bit, not wanting to squish him.

You don't get a choice as Jayce grips your hips and forces you down, his mouth immediately suckling onto your clit as his beard rubs deliciously against your thighs. God, everything’s been so busy that Jayce hasn't had the time to groom himself like he usually does. Neither you or Viktor are complaining, his longer hair and beard make him even more attractive.

The whiny moans that escape you make you want to hide your face but Viktor doesn't let you, kissing you passionately as he lecherously fondles your tits over your bra. Eventually, he shucks your top off and takes your bra off with one hand. You're completely nude as your two boys devour you.

Your orgasm slowly creeps up and before you know it stars overtake your vision as you gasp out your lover's names. Viktor looks pleased, Jayce looks pussy drunk.

You're just out of breath.

You slowly get off Jayce and lie down on your plush bed, Viktor ever the ambitious one, takes his own top and vest off and joins you on the bed, pinning you down as he recolours the faded marks on your neck and chest.

“You did say I'd get to see them later.” He teases, his eyes glittery as he looks at you, a coy smirk on his pink lips.

“That I did.”

He redoes the marks from a week ago and adds a few more, just cause. What a possessive man.

“Jayce,” Viktor starts, his tone demanding but kind, “See if she has any lube. It's been a while, and I don't want her to be in any unnecessary pain.”

Jayce just nods and goes to your bedside drawer, you're too invested in Viktors plush lips to notice whats going on.

A small gasp is heard as Jayce looks over his shoulder to stare at you two, then before you can ask whats wrong, Jayce takes the drawer out of its spot and dumps the contents out onto the bed.

Lube, vibrators, dildos, a flogger, handcuffs, silk ties, butt plugs, toys galore.

Jayce looks shocked, Viktor looks intrigued.

You want to die.

“Oh? What's this?” Viktor asks, his voice full of sweet teasing. He picks up a multitude of toys, looking at them like puzzles he needs to solve. Jayce looks curious too.

“Well—” you start, sitting up onto your elbows as Viktor straddles you, “You know how… unhappy I was with Cole.”

Jayce and Viktor grumble and grimace at the mans name. Yes, they know.

“It extended into the bedroom.” Viktor plainly states, you nod and Jayce scoffs.

“Of course it did. Man was too insecure about us being friends to even properly please you.”

“What a shame. Sucks to be him.”

“Guys!”

Viktor and Jayce just snicker as you fail to look angry at them. Damn them. They're too loveable to stay mad at. Especially since now, they both look so excited at the prospect of using your toys, particularly Jayce. You swear you can envision puppy ears perking up and a tail wagging vigorously.

“So… this changes our plans.” Viktor casually states as he continues to look at your toys, Jayce smirks, and you just feel confused flusteredness, “What do you mean?”

“Well… now we have more options, don't we? One you were going to keep hidden from us.” Viktor’s causal tone gets darker, sensual. You can't help but feel your face heat up.

Jayce adds in, “How naughty! What're you thinking Vik?”

“I’m thinking doing something we haven't done yet.” He teases as he holds up your jewelled buttplug. The jewel looks strikingly similar to a hexgem. Viktor's smirk widens at that realization.

Your eyes widen. Oh… Oh. He wants…

Before you can finish your thought, Jayce excitedly adds, “At once or at the same time?”

“Same time.”

You choke, lightly pounding your chest, “Can we all get on the same page? Same hole or… separate?” Jayce and Viktor look at one another and chuckle.

“Separate. For now, Don’t want to overwhelm you. It's been a while since we've had sex. Jayce, which hole would you like?”

“… Anal.”

“Oooh look at you Golden Boy. Kinkier than we thought. Wanna prep her?”

“Uh, hell yeah! Viktor lay down, babe get on top of him.” Viktor quirks a brow at the demand but follow's through, as do you. You help Viktor out of his bottoms and appreciate how hung he is. Honestly it's a bit intimidating, if you haven't gotten accustomed to his size you'd be a bit scared. Luckily for you, Jayce prepped you quite well his his mouth and fingers.

You slowly sink down onto Viktor's cock and hiss lightly, the stretch delicious but a bit painful with a dull sting. Viktor groans as his head tilts back. Jayce whines watching you two. He goes for your bottle of lube and pops the cap open, the snap of the bottle is almost deafening in the room.

Jayce warms the lube up in his hand and circles his finger around your rim. You whine a bit at the unfamiliar feeling, Viktor shushes you and kisses your temple, reaching down with a free hand to rub your clit.

Simultaneously Jayce inserts one finger. You whine louder and Viktor rubs your clit a bit faster, Jayce slowly pumps his finger in your ass. The feeling is a bit strange, but you're enjoying it.

This continues on a bit before Jayce adds more lube to his hand and adds a second finger, eventually he adds a third. You're panting at how overwhelmed your body is. All you can feel in immeasurable amounts of pleasure. Jayce then adds his cock into the equation, he slowly pushes in and Viktor rubs your clit harshly. You feel Jayce's happy-trail against you ass as he fully sheaths, and you cum.

The feeling of being stuffed, Viktor and Jayce praising you, the vigorous rubbing of your clit. You were done for.

Jayce whines, "Fuck. It's so tight. Vik, I can feel your cock against mine."

A chuckle is all you hear before a sharp thrust jolts against your hips. A precise hit to your g-spot makes you and Jayce moan loudly. Slowly the two men pick up their pace, Viktor's inside your pussy, then Jayce is inside your ass. You're never not stuffed.

Your just trapped in for the ride, panting heavily as your eyes roll to the back of your head. All you can hear are your boys' praising and degrading you at the same time.

"You're doing so good for us darling, so tight, so lovely. So perfect."

"Fuck babe, this is amazing."

"But look at how slutty you are? All these toys, these fantasies that you were going to hide from us. Turns out you aren't a good girl, you're a slut. A whore."

"Our personal slut though, Vik."

"Of course Jayce, of course."

The two men kiss as you're squished in between them. A guttural moan escapes your chest, loud and desperate, and you cum for a third time. You jolt and shake as you squirt over Viktor's cock, small splashes hitting his happy trail and lean stomach. Viktor groans against Jayce's lips as he harshly thrusts his hips into yours, getting balls deep before cumming inside you. God he's cum so much you can feel a small line escaping you and rolling down Viktor's cock onto the bed.

Jayce whines loudly and pulls away from Viktor, gripping your hips harshly as he pounds into your ass. Your moans become more and more whiny as the pitch of your voice gets higher and higher. Eventually Jayce groans deeply and cums inside your ass. He grinds his hips deeply into yours as he drags out his orgasm.

He pulls out slowly, gripping your ass as he pulls your cheeks apart. He appreciates the state he and Viktor left you in. You've flopped down onto Viktor's chest, face down ass up. You're panting as you sloppily kiss Viktor's neck and chest. Leaving more hickeys into the beautiful freckled skin.

You gasp when you feel a bit of a cold feeling enter your ass, keeping you full. You look over your shoulder and all you see in Jayce smirking at you.

"Not gonna let all my hard work go to waste, especially when Vik hasn't had the chance to feel your ass yet."

You laugh in shock.

These two men are going to kill you.

(Thank god you broke up with Cole.)

I VOLUNTER! I VOLUNTEER! *GASP*!WHO SAID THAT?! IT DEFINITELY WASN’T ME 🫣😩😏 hope y'all enjoy this PT2 xoxo ❤️

[lukolabrainrot]

Calm theory anon here!!! We are going to start off strong with a how do actors shut down dating rumors? What are some of the ways you have seen actors shut down rumors before? Most of the time it's with a he is just my friend or with a oh we are just friends. And those that are blunt will say we don't see each other like that. They are direct and want to kill the rumors before they start flying. Nicola didn't have to mention Luke at all. The fact that she did speaks volumes. She mention her relationship with her costar when she discussing a bunch of serious topics. If they were just friends why is he even in her head as a discussion topic. My friends I don't think about like that meaning they don't occupy space in my thoughts for them to be a regular conversation. The only time I will talk on someone is if they are more than friends. If it's a man I have a crush on I will go on and on about him. He's in my head so naturally he's who I discuss. This article was time to kill the rumors and we are just good friends would have killed the rumors. Yet we got how she always called them and she has called him friends before in other interviews. She played the same card she been playing. Talking about her relationship with him as special while calling him a friend. Why doesn't she just tell us they are just friends? Because that would be a lie they are more. So she skirts around the truth. Also no fan pages I have seen is anyone saying marriage we say we want them together or they are together. I haven't seen anyone mention marriage 👀. Interesting that's how she phrased the fans wants. Guys we are getting closer and closer to a reveal. Truth always has a way of coming out and their love they wont be able to hide forever.

💯

Y'all, she didn't have to mention L... AT ALL. And the marriage comment (DEFINITELY intentional). EVERYTHING she talked about in that article was intentional and approved of before it was released. She was never going to announce their relationship in the article, but she also can't totally shut down the rumors because they aren't "just friends". So she makes sure people know in this very important article (that really is about her accomplishments and really wasn't focusing on any type of Bridgerton promo) that L and her have a lot of love for each other and a "gorgeous friendship"... and mentions that a lot of people want her to marry LUKE. SHE. DID. NOT. HAVE. TO. SAY. THIS. I can't stress that enough. This interview was apparently done before the Emmy's in early September... A LOT has seemed to change publicly since then for L/N. The RINGS being one of the major ones 👀

This article is likely going to live "forever" and in it's original form. And she very intentionally mentioned TWO people in her personal life that she wanted to live in this article (ON TIME MAGAZINE). Her father, who was VERY important to her and a huge influence on her life, and... LUKEEEE. Like, y'all, just marinate on that for a few minutes. This doesn't read as my work bestie. This reads as someone who will likely be in her life for a LONG TIME.

She mentioned she is VERY aware that people ship the two of them. And when prompted to talk about her relationship with L (which she definitely agreed to in advance), she not only doesn't totally shut down rumors, she says a lot of "people" want her to marry L. I think that goes beyond just fans. And then in early October we see her move the claddagh on her left hand, and L just sort of randomly shows up in this pic at her house while she's getting ready for an event with a ring on his ring finger. And then they went to NY together on a vacation (and work for N at least). Like this just isn't subtle. And some people just refuse to look at the evidence/information that is being presented to us on this topic. And there is still some "secret" shoot she teased about where she was wearing a dress she wore multiple times on the tour with her claddagh rings on full display (and no other jewelry). Idk y'all, I have this feeling that when L/N publicly announce their relationship, they are going to have some BIG news to announce.

Side note: I just wanted to add... N is SOOO cool!! I like legit want to be like her when I'm 37 😍

[dilfdemolisher]

Hey,

Heard you are in a Hannibal mood right now, so could you please write a needy Hannibal one-shot? They have been busy with their respective jobs and Hannibal comes home after a long, at first just wants to kiss and cuddle, but soon discovers how desperate his body is?😏(nsfw?)

Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable

an: I wrote this while listening to Honeymoon and I feel that its evident; so i insist y'all listen to Salvatore while reading...

YEARNING

Summary: A moment to lounge and enjoy peace becomes much more eventful when Hannibal arrives homes from work—hungry;)

Content Warning: Smut, Hannibal Lector is SIMP!!! Spread the word, oral and fingering (f!receiving), male masturbation (he jacks off during snack-time)

Word Count: 2k

It’s nice to finally have the opportunity to lounge—nothing to write—no one to speak to—no where to go—just you, your book, and the sun accompanying you while you sit comfortably in the lounge chair that has recently been brought outside.  

You always believe you’re not one who’s affected by the seasons; that cold, dreary weather doesn't get the best of you. And you believe that until the weather starts to warm your body up and you feel like you just crawled out of a cave and haven't seen the sunlight in years. 

Your whole body feels hot, and your internal temperature rising from the hot sun on your barely covered skin. You didn’t want the sun to have to penetrate through anything—you wanted it direct. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh. You allow your head to roll back and take your eyes off the pages you are reading, savouring the way the heat permeates through your hair and warms your scalp. So caught up in your relaxation, you didn’t become aware of your partner's presence until you felt a hand on your shoulder that delicately squeezed you. 

You don’t feel the need to open your eyes; you just feel content. 

“You’re the most divine creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He speaks. Oh, how you’ve missed his voice. You’ve both been so caught up in your respective careers that the simple attention he’s giving you right now makes the world seem like it’s stopped spinning and that it’s just you and him, no one else. 

He leans down and peppers kisses onto your shoulder; you can’t help but smile as his mouth trails upwords along the side of your neck. 

Your sure he can hear the grin that's carved onto your face as you speak, “I’m savouring the weather. Who knows how long it will be until we get another day like this.”

He only responds with a hum in agreement, or maybe just in enjoyment of his activities; your not quite sure. “Care to join me?’ You ask in hopes this isn’t just a fleeting moment; you miss him—you want him. 

He stays mute until he brings his lips to your carotid artery and lightly nibbles on the skin that serves to protect it. “I’ve missed you more than you know. I’m tempted to eat you up so I can have a piece of you forever.” He says before hashly nips you. 

It’s a frighting statement indeed, but he said it to you. If it were for someone else, it would be a threat, but for you, its a declaration of love. 

You can’t help but blush at his statement, “What's gotten into you?” 

He doesn't answer; instead, he continues to manifest his care with kisses instead of verbalizing it. His hand makes its way up your back as he pulls his head away. Before you can complain, he places his hands on your shoulders and rubs. You can’t help the small moan that makes its way out of your mouth due to the pressure on your muscles. 

You hear him quietly chuckle above you. You tilt your head back and open your eyes to look at him. 

He’s staring right back at you with a satisfied grin.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it. But sometimes you remember how beautiful he is and it takes you off guard, turning you into a blushing, love-sick fool. 

“Hi.” is all you can say. He says it back; you can see how humorous he finds this and how his simple touches seem to melt your brain away. 

You bring your hand up to his, where he working on your shoulder. “You just got home from work; I should be loving on you.” You say while bringing his hand to your mouth for a sweet kiss. 

He pulls his hand away, “Nonsense.” He says as he returns it back to your shoulder to continue your massage. “I live to love you.”

You love Hannibal, and you have no doubt your feelings are reciprocated, but its unusual for him to be this touchy. 

“I feel like you have bad news and you’re buttering me up.” You joke. You can't help but swoon as you hear his chuckle from above. 

“No bad news.” He says, “We’ve both been suffocated by our work lately and for the moment we aren't, and I feel it would be pitiful to waste it.” He explains. 

Your smile grows larger at his words, “Take off your blazer.” You tell him. You hear him laugh once more as he shrugs it off. 

You immediately understand how words come off. “No, not like that; I’m sure you’re baking in that. I’m just enjoying being here with you. I don’t need anything more.” Your a tad embarrassed by how forward you accidentally sounded, though he didn’t seem to mind. 

He places his blazer down somewhere out of sight. When he returns, his hand lands on your scalp where he gently drags his nails along it. “Just because you don’t need something more doesn’t mean you don’t want it.” 

You rotate your head back once more to look at him. You remember a few moments ago how soft his gaze was. Now it’s much more hungry. 

“I didn’t want to be greedy.” You whisper. There's no need for your quiet tone; Hannibal is the only other soul near you. Yet, just in case you stay hush. The words are meant for him. Yourself—your being—is all for him. 

“You’re too sweet.” His hand falls down farther. He’s slow with his movement, teasing you. His hand lies on your chest, above your heart; you know he’s revelling in the past pace of it—physical proof of your need for him. 

“Be greedy; you deserve it. Your always so good.” His hand  shifts to encompass your breast. He has a firm grip, but nothing to ensue pleasure; he’s waiting for your response. 

His simple words make your mind turn to putty. His face is next to yours—you can sense it. You feel his lips on your cheek—a gentle, kind kiss.  

“That's what I want. I want to be good for you.” It was the correct answer to assume as his hand slides beneath your swim top. 

You utter his name as he kneads your chest. You feel him exhale on your shoulder before biting into while pinching your nipple. His other hand, that’s not busy, starts to remove your top. 

Hannibal's fingers work deftly, sliding your swim top completely off and casting it aside. You feel the warmth of his body leave as he comes to kneel in front of you. Being able to fully see him for the first time since he’s come home, you drink in the sight of him. His own eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of you. 

He kneels in front of you and leans his head against your knee. Its not that you don’t appreciate it, but it’s rare that he’s so indiscreet about his wants. He’s the most cryptic man you’ve ever met—dangerous too. And yet, he’s kneeling before you, looking at you like you’re what makes the world spin. 

He kisses your knee before sliding his hands up your outer thighs and pulling your bottoms down. Once removed and places aside, Hannibal grabs your hand thats laying lip beside you and takes it into your own, clasping your fingers in between yours to hold hand. 

His gaze stays on you, his eyes looking at you with desire and devotion as he gently prys his legs apart with his hand. 

“Hannibal.” You breath, your voice a mix of need and plea. 

He smiles, a sensual curve of his lips that sends a shiver through you, "I want to make you feel everything," he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Every touch, every kiss. Let me worship you."

With that, he lowers his head and leans in, his mouth immediately on your most intimate spot which he handles with such precision. His tongue is skilled, flicking and swirling around your clit in a manner that hitches your breath. 

“Fuck.” You swear while he uses his lips and teeth on you, alternating between gentle suction and soft nips.

You feel like he’s eating you alive. 

Your hands grip the soild arms of the chair, head thrown back as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the internal pressure build, the delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His one hand presses down on your lower stomach to keep you still, holding you steady as he works you with his mouth. 

“So good.” He lowly hums into you, the vibration from his voice adding to your pleasure. He quickens his pace, moving to a faster rhythm as he removes his hand from yours and probes it around your leaking hole. 

“Please.” You gasp, and that’s all it takes for him to insert his digit inside you. He slowly drags it along your walls, only harshly hitting your sweet spot when you’ve been quiet for a moment. 

You feel yourself getting closer and closer as he sucks and licks; your words become unintelligible and are just as loud as your moans until suddenly, Hannibal pulls away. 

You watch him breathless as he removes both of his hands from you and brings them towards his belt to remove it. You both stare at each other as he unbuttons his trousers and lowers them slightly, just enough to remove himself.

His cock springs free, hard and dripping. He doesn't say a word as he lowers himself down and halts your legs over his shoulders while he dives into your core again. One hand he brings up to your pussy where he pushes two fingers in, moving them fast as his other hand wraps around his shaft. 

His movements are synchronized, moving both his hands at the same time, at the same speed, matching the rhythm. His gaze never leaves yours; the intensity of his glazed over eyes boring into your soul only nears you to your orgasm. 

The sight of him pleasuring himself while his tongue acts on your sensitive core is almost to much to bear. Every flick of his tongue, every movement of his hand causes your eyes to roll back into your skull. 

Hannibals moans reverberate against you, only making you melt more and more. His pace quickens, both on you and himself. As you look at him once again, you can see the strain in his muscles as he gets closer to his own relief. 

You reach down, threading your fingers between his hair and tug, urging him on. “Please Hannibal.” You whine, “Want you to cum.”

He groans at that. “So sweet, always so good for me.” 

His strokes become more frantic, his tongue more insistent. The sight of him on the edge, the feel of his relentless movements on your sensitive clit pushes you towards your climax. 

You feel your body arch towards him as your mind falls blank. The only thing in the world being Hannibal’s continued movements, his tongue on you and his fingers abusing your insides, drawing out your pleasure. 

With a gutteral groan, Hannibal finds his release. His warm cum spilling over his hand, making a mess on the ground below him. 

He collapses onto you, his head leaning against your thigh for a moment before he tucks himself back into his pants and rises. He presses soft kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, murmuring words of love and praise.

“You’re perfect.” You say quietly against his lips. 

He grins, his canines poking out and revealing themselves. “I could devour you forever.”

[annafoxxx7]

it’s been a while - stanford!art donaldson x reader

author’s note: hey guys I’m back asf 😝 my challengers obsession is on another level I don’t wanna talk about it I can’t put it into words. this fic is lowkey inspired by a few diff scenes from the movie but also by this (NSFW!!!!!) tweet that i found -> https://x.com/sexarchiv/status/1818683083681677640?s=46

I hope y'all enjoy! I wrote this rlly fast lmao (ps: the jack schlossberg scandal fic is coming soon i promise <3)

WARNINGS! pnv, oral (f receiving), cheating, humping i guess, reader is dating patrick, they hook up in the readers dorm at stanford, basically reader is tashi but like not actually

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a month since you've started school and you had barely seen Art. You’d seen your boyfriend Patrick more times than him, and Patrick didn’t even go to Stanford. One day when you're on the courts practicing, Art walks in and begins to watch you play.

“You gonna say something stranger? Or are you just gonna keep staring like a creep?” You say sarcastically. 

He laughs and tilts his head, leaning against the fence behind him. 

"Hey now, I'm just admiring the view. You're looking pretty good out there.” 

His eyes scan over your body, a playful smirk on his face.

“Thank you, I’ve been practicing like nonstop. How have you been? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.” 

You pick up your things and begin to walk towards the food court.

"Pretty good, pretty good. Just been keeping up with tennis practice and trying to keep my grades up. You know, the usual student life." He chuckles and glances over at you. "I've missed seeing your face. It's been too long."

“How come you haven't said hi? Not to guilt you or anything, but l've been pretty lonely since school started. I could use someone to talk to and I'm sure you could too. college is hard”

He stops in his tracks and turns to face you, a genuinely concerned expression on his face. 

"I'm sorry. Honestly, I thought you had been avoiding me. I didn't want to overstep any boundaries, you know?" 

“Why would I be avoiding you, Art?”

You take a bite out of the churro you snagged on the way in before offering it to Art to have a bite. He takes a bite and continues talking with his mouth full.

"Well, honestly, I thought maybe it was because of how I used to flirt with you. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea or anything, especially with you and Patrick…” His voice trails off for a moment while he swallows his food. “But if I'm being completely honest, l've missed our friendship and I’ve missed hanging out with you." 

“Wait, you were serious with that? I thought you were kidding with the flirty stuff.”

He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. 

"Uh, well, I mean, I do enjoy messing around and getting a rise out of people. But with you..it was different.

“Oh god, Art, I’m sorry. if I would've known I-“

He shakes his head and stops you there with a smile. "No, no need to apologize. Honestly, it was probably more on me than it was on you. I have a hard time being serious sometimes, you know that.”

You pause for a moment to think.

“Hey, let’s go back to my dorm. My roommate is gone for the weekend.”

He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Oh? Yeah... yeah let's go."

…

You head back to the dorm, barely making it through the door before his lips meet yours.

*He eagerly reciprocates, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. He deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue.

The kiss begins to deepen and he goes towards your bed. 

“Wait... Art... I need to... shower... we can’t.”

His lips trail down your neck as he gently pushes you onto the bed, his hand sliding down your side. 

"I don't care... I want you now." He whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“Wait, c'mere.” You continue to kiss him and lead him towards the bathroom. You fumble with the shower behind you turning it on and he begins to tug at your clothes.

He moans against your lips, his hands expertly removing your clothes. 

"Fuck... I need you." He steps back to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body. He quickly sheds his own clothes before joining you under the hot water. He presses you against the cool tile and continues to devour your mouth.

He kisses down your body, lowering himself on his knees. He reaches your thigh, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He parts your folds with his fingers, his tongue following suit. 

"You're so fucking beautiful..." He murmurs, the sound almost lost in the pounding water. Licking and sucking on your clit, he moans into you. He's starving, a hunger only the taste of your release can satisfy. You feel his hard-on hit your leg. You were too busy kissing to pay attention when he had undressed, but he was bigger than you thought. 

He feels your leg quiver and his cock twitches at the thought of being inside you. He pushes two fingers into you, curling them to find that spot that makes you squirm. He sucks and licks at your clit with more force, his other hand gripping your ass tighter. Your head falls back as you reach your climax, your leg shaking beneath you. 

Art licks you clean and stands back up meeting your face. His tongue enters your mouth, your own release sweet on his lips. He grinds against your leg needy for his own relief. 

“You wanna cum baby?” 

He can barely form words to answer your question. He continues to grind against you, his cock painfully hard at this point.

"Ple-please. I wanna be inside you... fuck-" He whimpers into your neck while you rub him teasingly. He's so needy for you.

“Fine, let's dry off first.” You turn off the shower and get out leaving him.

You dry yourself off, bending over to dry your legs. Everything is on display for him, he tries to touch himself but you stop him. 

“No touching, you can wait a minute.”

He groans in frustration, his cock throbbing with need. He watches you intently, admiring your body with open lust. 

"I-I can wait..." He stammers, trying to keep his hands off himself.

You throw a towel at him and head over to your bed. He can see you from the bathroom, you sit on the edge of the bed and stare at him patiently. Rushing to dry off, he runs over to you and drops the towel. He hovers over you as you lean back, letting your legs spread. He gasps at the sight of you, his cock jerking instinctively. 

"Fuck..." He mutters helplessly.

“You want me to make you feel better?” He nods, staring at you with doe eyes. “Okay. Sit down.”

He quickly sits on your bed, back against the pillows. You straddle him, slightly hovering over his leaking cock. You lower yourself and grind against him, slipping and sliding on his length but not yet letting him enter you.

“Does this feel good baby?”

He moans loudly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Yes..!" He moans, trying to control his breathing as he feels your wetness slick against him.

"Please..."

“Ready?” He nods. 

You lift yourself up before lowering back down onto him, this time taking his full length inside of you. He whimpers and quickly bottoms out. Nearly cumming just from being inside of you, he stares up at you, no sound leaving his mouth beside moans. 

His blue eyes intensely follow your face as you ride him. His grip on your ass tightens as you grind on him. He reaches up, his fingers tracing your jaw as he moans helplessly. He's not going to last long, the feel of you tight around him is sending his mind into overdrive. His hips buck up against yours, thrusting desperately into your warm depths. His cock twitches inside of you, he's close. You ride him slower, thinking it will edge him. Instead, it puts him over the top. 

He cums inside you, the feeling of his release making you clench around his cock, having a second orgasm. Feeling you tightening around him sends jolts of pleasure through his system as he spills his release inside you. He groans loudly, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches you through heavy lidded eyes, a lazy smile on his lips. 

"Fuck, baby..." Collapsing on top of him, he kisses your neck. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

His hands slowly, gently trace up and down your back as he holds you to his chest. His lips brush against your neck softly, eliciting a pleased sigh from you. 

“We should do that again sometime.” You smirk.

You broke up with Patrick later that day.

[py-dreamer]

@dynamicsimp hope ya like it!

EYESHOT AU DITY

I literally did this in one day- help.

So yeah, I tried out the gosh-dang challenge and honestly?

Quite happy with how it came out! It was very interesting and actually very fun working on a piece with a monochrome pink palette!

Gosh, I haven't gotten to use my REAL lineless style (I use it for stickers but I haven't done any stickers in forever) where all the cel shading is real harsh and as it says in the title: no outline.

Lately, I've been more focused on lighting and texture in my digital works and just making everything 'softer' and more 'realistic' but dang, I forgot how much I missed just using my harsh and more cartoony style.

But because it looked good, here's the one with some light:

I am very happy especially since I do believe there is some improvement in the style.

(In that it doesn't look as amateur as when I first started out. But I think that's mostly cause I used monochrome here)

Does anyone else get that struggle? Feeling like you're not advancing then keep pushing yourself to change and improve but also really missing the original style?

Anyways some of y'all might be wondering where I've been for pride month....

I PROMISE IT'S NOT CAUSE I HATE PRIDE MONTH OR LGBTQ+ PLEASE PUT YOUR PITCHFORKS DOWN!!!!!

Mainly it has mostly been art block and just demotivation especially since I'm STILL WORKING ON THAT BIG PROJECT UGHHGHHHGGGHHGG.

(I'm not blaming y'all I'm just feral)

And just general procrastination.

BUT.

I do have another project in the works. So to any of my lovely marshiemallows who have seen my previous posts,

you'd know that I'm very...opinionated about Macaque. More specifically his attitude in canon and how the fandom treats him.

(Keep in mind the thing was planned before s5)

DISCLAIMER: Again, I do enjoy Mac's character. I just think he's a bit of a d!ck and kinda hates how a lot of the fandom (not all) brushes that over and throws the bucket of Wukong's sins down on the king's head.

(I also would not hesitate to wack him with a stop sign on the chopping block if given the chance /hj)

But without further ado I decided to do something other than complain and present you guys this:

Yay! So if you're into Macaca bullying, join the Mac bullying train! CHOO CHOO!

(also big thanks to @furornocturna for beta reading and helping with characterizations and stuff. There will be another post just detailing bout the fic later but yea go check them out, their work's great)

AND HAPPY ANIVERSARY TO DYNAMICSIMP FOR THE AU!

[ghlitchbee]

I haven't seen anyone talk about it in here so I feel the need to be the one who tells you guys something very important from Richarlyson's birthday party.

When he was cutting the cake, he offered Forever the first slice....

In Brazil, the first slice of the birthday cake is something very important, and the birthday person must give it to the most important/loved person of their life.

He gave Forever his first slice... His dad, his hero, the one who's been with him through tough times and happy days, the one who would destroy the whole world for him.

It's not exactly lore important information but I thought y'all should know

[goldeaglefire1]

so. played the Pristine Cut a few days ago (not the first time I've played Slay the Princess, for the record; I actually got into it like a month ago and have kinda just. lurked in the background, not making any posts about it. so uh. hi guys) and. GOD this game is good for so many reasons, with even more reasons being added by the Pristine Cut, and I know a lot of people have made posts about how good Happily Ever After is already, but, since I haven't seen anyone post about it from the angle I'm looking at it...y'all mind if I ramble about how good the Happily Ever After route is from a narrative perspective. trick question, I wasn't asking; I'm going to ramble about how good the Happily Ever After route is from a narrative perspective.

so! let's talk about the Damsel for a minute. this is all fairly obvious stuff but stick with me here; we need to lay the groundwork for the main discussion. the Damsel, from a purely Doylist perspective, is the archetypical "damsel in distress" trope - the girl at the end of the villain's lair who has no agency of her own and exists purely as a reward for the hero completing his journey and beating up the villain (before you get mad, I know the Damsel is not actually like this in-universe, and that fact is actually a surprise tool that will help us later, but, again, looking at this from a purely Doylist perspective: outside the world of Slay the Princess, not in it) - fundamentally, she's there to make you happy. the Shifting Mound changes based on perception, and by treating her as the archetypical damsel in distress in Chapter 1, she actually becomes one come Chapter 2, with all her hard, unconventional edges like, to pick a random example here, "the capacity to horrifically self-mutilate herself," being sanded away for a perfect storybook ending. that's what you wanted, after all.

and, if you take everything at face value, that's exactly what you get! if you follow the Voice of the Smitten's advice and completely ignore the Narrator's nonsense about how she'll "end the world" or something, you will get exactly what you asked for, because, well. that's all there is to it! there is no deeper story here, it's just "hero saves princess, the end," end scene, move on to the next princess. but that's the Damsel route, and we're here to talk about the Happily Ever After route. and in order to properly get the Happily Ever After route, you have to horribly fuck up the extremely simple narrative presented before you. so, how do you do that? two ways - either try to question the princess's character and see what underlying motives she has, or, the method I'm choosing to focus on (both because it's the one I got when I first got the Happily Ever After route and because it better illustrates my point) - when you get near the end of the Damsel's story, right as you're about to get your Happily Ever After...you listen to the Voice of the Hero. because while the Smitten may be ignoring literally everything the Narrator says, the Hero has not been doing that, and quite frankly has some concerns about the potential end of the world thing. if she really can end the world...well, she just wants to make us happy, right? so surely nothing will go wrong if you just decide to stay in the cabin forever! it's a perfect compromise!

spoiler alert: it is not a perfect compromise. it is in fact as far from a perfect compromise as you can possibly get. makes sense, really, as there are no real compromises in Slay the Princess - you can either choose to trust the Narrator in any given route, trust the Princess in any given route, or you can choose, to quote the Contrarian in the Apotheosis, the third option that nobody wants. and the only two times the third option is any good is, well, when you're very intentionally spiting both parties - hi Contrarian - and when there's an actual third party you can appeal to, as is the case at the end of the game. every other time? you will be massively punished by the narrative for trying to find another option. try the "let's keep the princess in the cabin" maneuver in chapter 1? you get the Nightmare. try to be a smartass and avoid the "slay the princess/save the princess" issue altogether? you get the Stranger.

hell, every chapter 3 is ultimately the result of you not playing the role you're supposed to in the narrative (aside from the Razor who forces you to go to a chapter 3 no matter what but she doesn't count). if you play the role you're given in chapter 2, you'll be fine! for example - did you get the Spectre? congratulations! you get the Voice of the Cold, a cold-blooded killer - except, hmm...the princess is already dead, so no one to kill there...but there is the Narrator, who you're fairly mad at for the frankly terrible reward for doing your damn job, so how do you kill him? easy - take the princess out into the world and let her world-destroying properties do the job for you. did you get the Beast? congratulations! you get the Voice of the Hunted, a meek prey animal trying to avoid a massive predator...except, well, bad news, boss - you're the only food around here, so you're going to have to get eaten. sorry man. did you get the Nightmare? congratulations! you get the Voice of the Paranoid, a nervous wreck who, frankly, does NOT want to be here, and, well. honestly, do you expect to be able to save the world? the fact that you're even managing to stand up next to this eldritch abomination is a miracle; you might as well just let her out, because, frankly, who would blame you? and so on and so forth.

the Damsel's narrative is extremely simple. you get the Voice of the Smitten, a classic, overly dramatic, simple hero to match the simple princess you're given. your job is to swoop in, sweep her off her feet, and leave. that's it. that is all there is to it. the Narrator's talk about her ending the world does not fit into this narrative, so you have to discard it. after all, why would the hero release a world-ending monster into the world? that's preposterous! he must be lying, obviously. but, by giving the Narrator the benefit of a doubt, or trying to dig deeper into the Damsel's narrative role and find depth when there is none, you expose the cracks in that narrative...and chief among those cracks is that the Damsel is not the simple character her narrative role wants her to be.

I'm not going to do a full character analysis on the Damsel because that's not the point of this post, but even on the most surface-level reading, the Damsel has two very clear desires - she wants to make you happy, and she wants to be free. and, yeah, that's fairly straightforward, but it's more than nothing, which, ah, doesn't exactly bode well. after all, the Damsel's narrative role is that of the damsel in distress, a role most known for, very notably, having no agency, and here you are, dangling her freedom right in front of her face and snatching it away, and quite frankly, that sucks! she wants to be free! she wants to be free a LOT more than she wants to make some stranger she barely knows happy, and while normally those two desires have no conflict with each other, now they do, and while the chapter 1 princess could have done something about this situation and gone Nightmare on your ass, being a blank slate as far as the narrative goes, that's not an option anymore - you've locked her into her narrative role, now, and as a damsel in distress, she can't do shit. the worst she can do is be mildly upset but otherwise have zero objections to your proposal

luckily (or, well, unluckily depending on your point of view), that's enough for you to get your proper comeuppance in the form of Smitten. poor, poor Smitten - unlike the Damsel, he really is as simple as he appears to be on the surface. even on other routes, he is always, always madly in love with the princess, no matter how she looks or acts, and all he wants is to make her happy. a simple character for a simple narrative, who, conveniently, is NEVER forced to question the Princess' role in that narrative...until now. until you forced the fact that she is NOT the simple damsel she's supposed to be directly in his face, and that she's unhappy with your decision, well. that can't be right. she can't be unhappy, we're supposed to make her happy no matter what! something's clearly wrong here - it can't be the princess, because blaming the princess for anything is inherently not an option for Smitten; it's not in his nature. it can't be us, or at least he can't figure out how it could be us, because he's a simple character for a simple narrative, and the thought of "dangling the princess's freedom in front of her and then taking it away is a massive dick move" doesn't even occur to him, because he doesn't realize that's what we were doing. so...it must be something else. maybe the Narrator, who's been describing her as this world-ending abomination when she's clearly a maiden in need of rescue, or this cabin, because, well, why would a princess be in a cabin? she need a proper castle, obviously! he can fix this, surely, there has to be some solution here, he can make this work again...and it all begins by bearing out his heart.

or, rather, YOUR heart. which, you know, kills us. everything goes dark, and we die, etc., onto the new chapter! or epilogue, if you want to go by the title card. welcome to Happily Ever After, the reward you deserve! you goddamn bastard. this route is effectively Smitten's attempt to fix the narrative you broke - and, in many ways, his efforts can be compared to the OTHER route you get by breaking the narrative of the Damsel, that being the Burning Grey. in that route, you kill the Damsel, and, well, that very obviously breaks the narrative, so when Smitten kills you in retaliation and a new world is formed, the Damsel, now the titular Burning Grey, tries to fix it. much like Smitten can't blame her, she can't blame you, because her narrative role doesn't allow it, and she doesn't blame herself, because she did literally nothing to deserve that (aside from like. the fact that she killed you that one time but frankly if you hold that against her that's a bit of a dick move), so she comes to the same conclusion that there must be an external force responsible for derailing the story. the difference between Smitten here and the Burning Grey is the solutions they come up with: the Burning Grey, fundamentally, is part the Shifting Mound, the embodiment of change, rebirth, and death. so, naturally, the solution she comes up with is to burn down the cabin with both herself and us inside, finally being together with her love forever. by melting together her and our flesh. which, you know, sucks, but at the very least the death is...relatively quick?

the Happily Ever After route does not give you or the Princess the luxury of death. after all, Smitten is not a part of the Shifting Mound, but a part of you - the Long Quiet, the embodiment of stasis and stagnation. killing you or the princess doesn't even occur to him as an option - at least, it doesn't now that he's outside of you. and while this allows him to get something much closer to what we would associate with a happy ending, it falls apart fast. the same feasts over and over again, growing more stale and bland with time, the same games over and over again, excitement dulling into boredom as you play repeatedly with no end in sight...it's not Happily Ever After, not even close, but it's the best he can manage. after all, isn't this what you wanted? you DID save the princess, and Smitten is a simple character for a simple narrative, so, this is the only option he can think of outside of riding off into the sunset with our beloved. so, this has to be what you wanted, right?

and as for the princess? well, if she was locked by the narrative before, it's even worse now with Smitten. after all, as far as she's concerned, Smitten is us, so all she knows is that, after we dangled her freedom in front of her and took it away, and she showed even the slightest bit of resistance in response, we proceeded to make her already bad situation into a living goddamn nightmare. so, yeah, she is terrified of what could possibly happen if she shows she isn't happy with this, so she's quick to smother any and all signs of dissatisfaction in the hopes that, as long as she seems happy with all this, you can't make this worse somehow. the MOST she does in terms of resistance is wear the Pristine Blade as a necklace, which is honestly more of a vague hope of "if you won't let me free from this cabin alive, then maybe at the very least you'll let me free from this cabin in death? please? on god?"

and, well, you could in fact do that. or, hell, if you REALLY feel like being an asshole, you could decide to NOT break the facade at all. but if you really want to make it up to the princess? if you realize how badly you've fucked up and want to actually make up for your mistakes? you have to let her actually express her discomfort. you have to give her back the agency she's been denied by the narrative - the agency you took away in the first place. and once she finally has that back...she cries. in relief, because she's finally free from the hell you put her in, in sorrow because, despite it all, the facade of a happy ending was nice while it lasted, in a mix of both with the tears she'd been unable to shed for so, so long...and, at the end of the day, despite having every right to hate you...she doesn't. because you DID set her free, in the end. you realized your mistakes, you learned and changed as a person, and you actually made things right, so even though you might have made her life a living nightmare...she's willing to give things a fresh start. and whether you decide to amicably part ways or start something new together, at long last, she'll finally have her chance to dance under the stars.

this is a love story.

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol

i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.

(not proofread, sorry abt that)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

you look so out of it

pull it together

we can love you

forever and ever

I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.

I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.

After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.

Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.

“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.

“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”

I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.

“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

“Resources about what?”

“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”

It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.

“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.

“That's all you have to say?”

“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”

“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”

“For what, mother?”

“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”

I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.

“You okay?”

Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.

I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”

“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”

I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”

“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”

“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”

“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.

Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.

I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.

I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.

I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.

“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”

If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”

I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”

Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”

“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”

She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”

After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.

I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.

So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.

“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”

“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.

She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.

When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.

“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.

“It's going well, I guess.”

“You guess?”

"I just hate my boss."

I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”

“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”

I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.

Oh, oh.

I like Ellie.

Fuck, yeah. You do.

Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.

Ellie is flushed. I can tell.

“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.

The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.

“What if I do?”

She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.

It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.

We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.

“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”

She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.

“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”

“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.

Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Oh, make me.”

And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.

I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.

Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.

“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense.