#I like the heat but thats just a me thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ak319 · 3 days ago

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Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open. But u can always send me ur thoughts or dm.)

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fadelbison · 2 days ago

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Thoughts on Joongdunk divorce and PR for branded pairs

so I read about the Joongdunk divorce era related ongoing drama and I have to say the thoughts I have are...perhaps very crazy but - sorry I have permanent brain damage from House MD - it fits. So take my opinion with grains of salt or better yet dont take it at all and just enjoy the conspiracy theory of it all. I'm fairly sure Joong is faking it and im pretty sure khaotung is...not faking whatever this 'I am going to fuck first against the nearest surface' vibe he has going on but he's certainly playing it up/into every moment like he's in a olympics style marathon thats just rail and be railed by your best friend.

Out of all the GMM men I follow, I follow Khaotung and Joong the closest and I would also say of the people I follow these two are the most likely to lie through their teeth about every single thing. And we already know that Joong has been helping FK but kind of particularly khaotung get more socmed savvy. So there is definitely some thread here to believe that PR discussions have occurred at least between Joong and FK but more likely between all four.

And the reason why I believe the Joongdunk divorce era is fake? It's becuase the thing between Joong and Est *was* real and Joong handled it completely differently. I had no idea it had happened even though I've been following Joong on IG through that entire time not until I went to twitter. I realized that whole thing was falling apart ONLY because people were talking about it. Joong's own posting was very staunchly business as usual.

And suddenly for his own branded pair right before a critical show who's success doesn't only affect him? What is he doing? Hanging neon signs that he's getting divorced. You're telling me to believe that Joong is middle school shading Dunk where even *I* could notice. Yes, I thought it was mega weird when he promo'd the THK release with pictures of him and FK but not Dunk. By this point, they *must* be aware of how people are talking about the Joongdunk divorce and what does Dunk do? Post a picture with FK but not Joong in the middle of it.

Really? Hours before the premiere?

See, the options here to me are:

1) Joong (and Dunk) has undergone a sudden and TOTAL personality change where he's suddenly inept at doing PR

or the crazier and yet to me the more likely scenario:

2) It's staged

And why would one do that? Why take the risk right before THK? To drum up engagement obviously. See we know that companies only care for numbers, these tweets and IG comments and likes are all going into some graphical format presentation in front of a guy who doesn't know or give two shits about what a divorce era is. So people talking about JD because their hobby is sniffing each other’s crotches or because they can’t stand each other is the exact same thing.

But how does Khaotung and his diabolical mind play into it, why did I bring him up in the beginning? We know that Fadel and Style start out as enemies…so like who's fucking playbook is that? Matching your promo to the dynamic of your characters? Who is the olympics gold winner in cosplaying your characters cosplaying as yourself?

I know people forget things week to week on socmed. But First and Khaotung were barely present during THK filming, soms were more or less only getting FK content from THK official twitter than First or Khaotung.

Khaotung was doing more fanservice with Joong than First at one point and he had a flurry of solo events during which soms were once more fractured between special treatment for Khaotung versus First [FK themselves were honeymooning in Busan and we got nothing other than the most brain damaging story about First scouring Busan for a hat Khaotung wanted and two posts of Khaotung ass up in their room that First must have taken].

Suddenly almost on the dot a month before THK release? They dialed the heat up without a reciprocal heat dialing up of Joongdunk. Summer Night definitely got in the way of that where Joong was giving Dunk a polite wide berth on IG liking and commenting on Summer Night stuff but not doing any CP related things.

So First and Khaotung suddenly act like they can't function without sampling each other's dicks thrice a day while Joong and Dunk stay business as usual. One pair taking the lion's share of THK hype is not a good thing for the other pair and genuinely I was like is JD really okay taking up second fiddle spot to FK for WEEKS. Lo and behold, days before THK all people can talk about is JD.

Anyway the following is an honest to god real photo of me writing this insane post. I just think things are going really well for Joong despite it all and I don't think it's on accident.

#joongdunk #firstkhao #the heart killers #joongdunk divorce era

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h-170 · 2 days ago

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i’ve always had this headcanon for sub g!p sakura… like imagine tying her hands behind her back and just going CRAZY on her g!p? messy head, handjobs, anything i know she’d be the whiniest ever and its so hot to me 🫣

Imagine

anon we could have sex yk... THIS HAS ME BLUSHING IM CUMMING UGH 😔😫

i can imagine like on a random day sakura would be so horny for no reason and literally thinking about you all day, then when she comes home she drops to your feet and begs for attention. youd be so confused and laughing because of how cute she is, looking down to see a huge bump in her pants

youd kneel down in front of her and whisper in her ear "want your princess to take care of you?" she would whine and nod so quickly 😭

youll force her back on her feet before guiding her to the bedroom and then pinning her to a wall, kissing her sloppily to make her even harder if that was even possible

the kiss grows heated; choking her with your tongue, grinding against her bulge, pinning her hands to her sides on the wall and she'd be drooling all over herself 😫

you look down between your bodies and see that her cock is definitely at its maximum hardness, and you push her down on the bed while she looks at you with desperate, lustful eyes as you reach for a drawer, pulling out sakura's favorite white ropes, tying them around her wrists

then, when you take off her pants and boxers, you tie her ankles on each side of the bed (yes its quite small), but all you could focus on was her monster cock throbbing and twitching, begging to be sucked, and thats exactly what you do

with a wink and smirk, you lean in and shove the whole thing in your mouth, making sakura hiss and moan. when your nose touches her pelvis, you purposely choke on her dick, making her see the stars already when you barely started

you start sucking on it as you watch sakura squirm, literally unable to stay still, so you crawl above her and take her tied wrists, wrapping another rope around these and tie it on the random hook on your wall behind her, then crawl back between her legs and slide your arms under her thighs, pulling her against your face as you continue your assault

minutes and minutes pass and all youd hear would be "fuuuuck! fuck fuck fuck-", "ughh~ fasTER- please!!", "fuck you feel so good- Aaah~ your mouth feels so good!"

at some point you start using her hands, sucking her dick as fast as you can while pumping your fists, sending her over the edge. she'd be screaming, moaning, cumming all over your face as you aim it on yourself

panting like crazy, she looks at you with a soft smile, blushing as she sees you covered in her. but nothing could prepare her for what you were planning on doing next

taking off her pants and panties, sakura gasps, her cock immediately jumping. "i... i... what- no! y/n please im still sensi-" but you cut her off by sitting on her thick meat, the way you were so tight around her made her feel huge inside you

without warning, you start fucking yourself on her cock, bouncing up and down and moaning shamelessly. you keep clenching around her, making sure to get every drop of precum you could get out of her. pulling her shirt up, you do the same with her bra and then squeeze her small boobies:3 making her eyes roll back and she arches her back, laying down on her back again then bucks her hips up, pushing her dick deeper inside your cute little cunt 🥺

i mean come on, you cant tell me you wouldnt overstimulate her when shes THIS needy!!! 😳 you were almost as horny as her, and you were gonna make her cum inside you, no matter what

you start moving back and forth on her lap, your ass cheeks squeezing her balls in the process. she moans, louder and louder, and honestly shes not the best at holding her orgasm :( cumming inside you after like 1 minute and triggering your climax too, cum gushing out of your stuffed pussy and onto her lap, trickling down her balls, inner thighs and ass

you collapse on top of her, then after catching your breath, you pull out her soft cock and untie her, then shove it back in, both of you falling asleep with her inside you<3

#sakura miyawaki #sakura miyawaki x reader #sakura x reader #le sserafim smut #sakura smut #smut #fluff #g!p sakura #g!p sakura x reader

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vilavi-2 · 12 hours ago

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You may not be able to see @andthendk's gifs embedded in AO3 anymore, and thats because enough people loved and downloaded them that it broke my dropbox bandwidth limit for the day 😅

I was today years old when I learned that was a thing! They should be restored tomorrow, but to prevent a repeat issue I'm reposting everything here. You can download the gifs from this tumblr post (compressed to meet upload requirements here), but please don't nab them from AO3 - they are hosted there via an embedded link that counts each download against me. Thanks and sorry for the trouble! 💕

Sway

It was bad right from the beginning. The physical threat the Red Lanterns posed was one thing, the blinding rage that assaulted her mind was far worse. Raven concentrated fiercely to keep the brunt of it at bay, but each little bit that slipped through was like a needle in her psyche. Soon enough it was as though a swarm of hornets was assailing her, their sharp, relentless stings driving her closer and closer to the locked door where she kept her own anger.

It didn’t help how much Ysmault reminded her of Trigon’s realm. A red, rank, screaming world that seemed almost designed to regress her. The only living things here were her and her fellow heroes; their foes had no heartbeat and the landscape itself was made up of bones, blood, and burning rock. Over all of them was the Red Lantern’s power battery, bathing the scene in malignant light.

Raven couldn’t say when that door eventually cracked open, she only knew it had when she saw her clawed, red hand wrapped around a foe's throat, felt the heat of him in her grip, peered into the raw, animal madness in his eyes. She shouldn’t be this close, it wasn’t her style. Raven fought best from a distance, methodically and without any joy in the act. Now she was in the thick of it, reveling in the up close and personal degradation of her enemies. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, and yet it felt so good . Truly, she had forgotten how good anger could feel. The Lantern in her grasp spewed more of his viscous, spoiled blood at her trying to win free of the iron grip on his throat. Raven tightened her hand instead, cutting off the stream and tossing him aside. Her enemies' corrosive, burning blood had no effect on her — she’d been bathed in hotter fires than they could ever match.

She and Damian sat there quietly, too exhausted to talk, too edgy to sleep. It’s done, it’s over, relax now , Raven kept telling herself. But the trials of their battle weren’t so easy to shake off. The unhinged fury of the Red Lanterns was like a needle in her mind, sharp and relentless. She’d been able to resist the worst of it, but enough had gotten through to her. The worst part was that everyone had seen. Everyone could still see. Raven did not wear fury well.

She shifted in the Javelin’s jumpseat, trying to get more comfortable. Instead the move just reminded her that she was covered in the viscous, spoiled blood Atrocitus’s minions spewed with abandon. The tacky, wet feeling of it repulsed her even as it compounded her shame and guilt.

She tried again, futilely, to force the emotional echoes from the Red Lanterns from her mind, glad that she and Damian were alone in this part of the Javelin. The seats near the front were occupied by Titans and Leaguers alike, licking their wounds and trading happy banter about their victory over the Red Lanterns. Raven stole a glance at her teammate, guilt and distress prickling her heart at the injuries that dotted his skin. She had promised to heal him as soon as she was back in full control of herself, to which he’d shrugged and told her in his blunt, cocky way not to worry about it. His gaze hadn’t flickered when he saw her, nor when he’d met her golden eyes with his own. Even when they were kids Damian hadn’t ever seemed bothered when he saw her like this, for which she was endlessly grateful.

He slumped a bit in his seat, arms crossed and eyes closed, though she knew he wasn’t asleep. Raven decided to follow his lead and forced her body to relax, resting her head against his shoulder in hopes that some of his unshakeable composure could leach into her. They’d been here before and she knew he wouldn’t mind. Change back damn it, she thought tiredly. Damian shifted alongside her to settle them both more comfortable and she moved with him effortlessly, exhaustion and contentment finally starting to cool her blood.

Minutes must have passed, but it felt like she’d only just closed her eyes when a bright spike of emotion and noise opened them again. Supergirl and Shazam had taken seats opposite them, flamboyant in their giddiness. A quick look around showed the Javelin had filled up quite a bit since they first boarded and the whir of the engines told her they’d be taking off soon.

“You were amazing !” Billy was telling Kara, the raw admiration in his voice a dead giveaway for his real age. “Atrocitus totally didn’t see it coming! I bet he thought it was Superman that hit him!”

“It was just a lucky shot,” Supergirl said, but she was beaming from the praise. Raven couldn’t help her tired stare, something twisting in her belly when she saw how immaculate the other heroine was. Not a spec of rancid blood, not a tear on her clothes, not a hair out of place. Raven admired her, envied her, maybe hated her. Don’t be stupid. We’d still be out there dealing with rage zombies if not for Kara . She was more spent than she realized, if she wasn’t able to keep those small, petty emotions at bay.

“Don’t even,” Billy went on, goodnaturedly. “You oughta let loose more often. Don’t let your cousin soak up all the attention.”

“Maybe I will,” she grinned back, her aura bright with satisfaction. Only then did Kara seem to take notice of her and Damian sitting across the ship’s aisle. Her smile slowly tapered off, and careful (forced) nonchalance overtook her expression. Billy followed her eyes and quickly adopted the same look. As their twin gazes crawled over her, Raven felt a sinking feeling. She knew what they were seeing.

Scarlet skin, black horns and claws, four feline yellow eyes. Not to mention the splatters of rank blood that decorated her body. Letting loose doesn’t look quite as good on me as it does her.

Something unfamiliar stirred in her — shame? vanity? insecurity? she couldn't decide — and she dropped her eyes, reaching up to draw her hood over her head. The least she could do was hide her horns…

Damian caught her wrist in a firm grip and tugged her hand back down into her lap, thwarting her. She looked over in confusion and saw he was alert now, staring unflinchingly back at the two other heroes. His expression was neutral, but there was a clear challenge in the set of his jaw and the steely look his eyes. It was a look that both heroes and villains were known to quail from, and this time was no different.

Shazam was the first to break, ducking his head and muttering out a half-hearted pardon before hurrying to find another seat on the Javelin. Kara was soon to follow, albeit with a bit more grace and an uncertain smile for Raven. The empath felt a touch of guilt for her earlier, uncharitable feelings towards the heroine. It wasn't Kara's fault she was such a mess.

Damian’s unflinching stare followed them up the aisle before he finally turned his eyes to her, the fingers on her wrist sliding to coil with her own. He said nothing for a few seconds, just studied her from behind his mangled domino mask. Raven looked back at him wearily, feeling slightly bitter at his intervention and wishing he would have just let her hide. His expression softened and Raven blinked in surprise when she felt his thumb brush lightly against the skin beneath her second set of eyes before migrating north and tracing one of her ebon horns.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of," he declared, finality in every syllable.

A profound affection swept through her, heating her blood in a different way than before and making her heart beat too fast. The feeling belonged to both of them, Raven realized, and was more than enough to sweep away the last few drops of rage poisoning her psyche. Her vision blurred for a quick second as four eyes became two. Damian dropped his hand, skimming her hair lightly as he did, and settled back against his seat. He kept his eyes on her and Raven felt the unmistakable pride in his gaze. She laid her head on his shoulder again; partly to hide from the power of his regard and partly because of an uncontrollable need for closeness.

He reciprocated, resting his cheek against the crown of her head and exhaling deeply. The sense that she was soiled or shameful, which had dogged her since the battle, was gone now, replaced with the inexplicable feeling that she was pristine.

“But he who dares not grasp the thorn

Should never crave the rose.”

― Anne Bronte

DamiRae Week 2024 - Day 3 / Al Khala

Sway

Sometimes, when you and I collide

I fall into an ocean of you

Pull me out in time

damiraeweek2024 contribution from me and @andthendk! Enjoy!

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janeacular · 29 days ago

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Cold is sharp stabbing needles puncturing every tiny little atom in your body & Hot is a low hum drum throb pulsating through your organs. And both get infinitely worse when you add water :)

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bamsara · 1 year ago

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Also why did July become of the most busiest, hottest and most expensive month of my life

I need August to become boring as shit. No more shit happening to me, no more emergencies, no weddings, no birthdays, no health scares, no more heatwave, no more social obligations, no nothing I just want to stay home, make stickers for my life blood aka patreons and write fanfiction in an air-conditioned space PLEASE

#due to multiple things i had to take a large chunk out of savings and there were several social obligations and i am so tired #there were like planned expenses like bills and the $400 monty pin order which im excited for #and then sudden stuff like an emergency health and family thing and friend could not pay for something so $300ish that way #which is FINE im alright and thats what savings are for and i can always rebuild it #but its also like IM TIRED!!! I WANNA STAY HOME #I DIDNT GET TO DO NEARLY AS MANY ARTFIGHTS AS I DID LAST YEAR #also the heat killing my health but like thats kinda universal rn kdlghlsgds #ON THE UP SIDE #MONTY PINS ARE COMING i am so excited im biting the drywall #its not so much as a vent post as just a bitching post btw im happy this month is ending #actaully theres a lot i wanna talk about let me boot up a stream #sara shush

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago

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yeah sex is great but have you ever found a shady parking spot in 100+ degree weather

#that one minute walk through the parking lot roasted me to a crisp #my hair is on fire and i am a walking sunburn #Kidding kidding it just felt like i was in a rotisserie oven #and now im in a nice cool building... bliss....#yk the worst part of living in dry heat is my hair is painfully flat #i look like im from the early 2010s....#bieber lookin.... i cant....#like you know the reboot wally au? thats me rn #absolutely unprompted #aaaaand post. 100 note post right here #(please do the funny thing and let this flop Thankyew)

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icewindandboringhorror · 3 months ago

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sneepy cozy time....

#cats #longing to one day hopefully feel sleepy cozy like this again...#There was a pretty cool week here so I thought we had progressed closer to cool fall weather but... NO #..wrong!! It's like 80F in my room right now and was 98F outside yesterday. We get two more 'cooler' days and then #it starts going up again and will be in the high 90s possibly 100 something later this week #in my mind september should be COOOOOLLLL!!!!! or at least STARTING to get there.. Like mid 80s at the highest.#I am going to explode the world with evil wizard powers aaRGHaaHHHHHHHH #OR at least it should get down really low at night. I think thats the main thing is if it's 95 in the day and only 62 for like 3 hours in #the middle of the night then even leaving a fan in windows all night is not enough to fully cool down the house because its just not #enough cold air or cool for long enough. If it were 98 in the day but 15F outside at night then you could probably bring cool air inside al #night and your house would be at a relatively low starting point for the next days heat.#Like for example - in my apartment on a hot and sunny day. Even with every window #closed and blocked off with thick layers of reflective stuff and also not using the stove or doing anything to generate heat - the apartmen #will still go up on average about 6 - 8 degrees in one day. Peaking around 8 - 10pm night time. If I start off with the house cooled down #to 60F. then the highest it would get is 66 - 68 which is tolerable #.But if the lowest I can cool the apartment all night is still only 75F #then it's going to be 81 - 83F by the end of the day. So really it would be bearable (ISH)#for it to be warm as long as it was colder at night.#Though still the IDEAL is to not have to structure my life around envrionmental management and constantly be checking the #outdoor temperature so I can put the fans in the second that it's colder outside than it is inside and putting elaborate curtain systems #up and down at the exact right times and meal prepping 4 days in advance so I dont have to use the stove for 3 days and blah blah blah #Life in the colder weather months is so effortless and breezy in that sense. I can just have the window open all day and get natural light.#I can cook whatever I want. I can wear what I like. I can move around the house freely without needing to always #carry a fan around with me or douse myself in water.#ANYWAY.... oh if only that were me.... snuggled in a warm blanket ... a comforting wintery image...

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pettyprocrastination · 2 years ago

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Mutt

Summary: After an ambush, Soap learns to trust the newest member of the 141

Pairing: Johnny Soap Mactavish x Fem!Werewolf!MC (call sign is Mutt)

warnings: vague description of violence and injuries.

word count: 800

thank you to: @captainsamwlsn @thesadvampire @humanransome-note @joel-mlller and @luxuryberzatto @madhyanas @littleferal and @djarin-junk for helping me with this story and rattle off in your ears about Mutt! I love you all so very very much <3

_______

“What are you?”

It was a valid question given the circumstances.

Soap could hardly count himself as conscious at that moment. It was a wave, pulling him back and forth until he was able to force his head to the surface, gasping for air and able to just barely look at his surroundings before he was pulled under again.

“Does it matter?”

It was dark out. He remembered it being dusk when they set out on their mission, the sun slowly setting in the horizon as Price told them to radio in at any issue and meet at their rendezvous point as soon at possible.

Fuck.

He broke the surface once more to notice that he wasn’t moving, but swaying side to side. Each step that crunches the ground is not his, but the blood drip, drip, dripping down, leaving a foreboding trail of their journey, is.

Your shoulder digs into the crevice of his chest with each movement.

“Yer carryin’ me, Mutt.”

“I am.”

You never spoke much. Johnny had equated you to Simon in that way, quiet and foreboding. Your actions spoke where your voice rasped in the shadows. Tucked in the corner booth of a pub when the others went to celebrate a job well done. The loyal guard dog, waiting on its haunches for an order.

He was the one who would move to you first. Setting a beer in front of you before sliding into the seat across from you with a tap of his knuckles on the polished table. His knee would bump yours every time. You’d never complain.

“Big scary bastards, the both of you.”

But then you’d give him a grin, a flash of your crooked canines so fast it was gone when he blinked.

“Well it’s a damn good thing you talk enough for all of us then.”

Jonathan Mactavish was only a stone’s throw from 215 pounds but you carried him without complaint. The swaying with each step made his head spin and looking up was too much work for him to trust himself not to vomit. He let his eyes drop and stare at the ground, watching you take one step after another in a steady rhythm like an infant listening to their mother’s heartbeat. Through the darkness, he’s able to make out the shadowed shape of your feet in the night.

“You’ve got no shoes on, Mutt.”

“Feels better this way.”

He can’t see much. Even if it weren’t for the blood loss and what he’s going to safely assume is a grade two concussion, it’s far too dark out for his surroundings to be seen as anything more than vague shapes and textures he can almost make heads or tails of.

Your eyes are focused on the trail ahead, already accustomed to the darkness in a way he’d never seen anybody else without night vision goggles or a Mag-light.

“Tried to reach Price but the comms are busted. You got your bell rung pretty bad back there but-” You shifted your grip on his body and he felt something sharp press against his ankle, a gentle warning that mouthed at the skin of his Achilles's tendon. “We're only a few miles away from the rendezvous point. Think you can keep it together until we get there?”

Claws. You had claws.

Through the nausea rolling through his body and the lights dancing behind his eyes, Soap could feel the fog begin to clear from his head. A flash of orders rising from his memory like the vision returning after a flash grenade.

He remembered seeing you charge through the muzzle flash and smoke like a vision. Uniform stained with the viscera of your enemies so dark he didn’t recognize you at first. The moment you came toward him he was raising his gun until he heard you speak.

“You know me, Johnny.”

But he didn’t. Not really.

When he looked at you there was no familiarity or trust. He knew the color of your eyes and the curl of your lips in a snarl but nothing else. Not your name or family nor the reason you joined.

In the darkness, moonlight glinted against your eyes and he found himself thinking of the coyotes in Las Almas that watched him and his team from the shadows, pacing with a choir of chattering yips and howls in the darkness, waiting for the proper time to pounce.

He’d never admit it but there was a pause, when his hand held the barrel of his gun steady at your head. Just as long as the width of the shallow breath trapped in his lungs, a split second where his pointer finger twitches, where the voice in his head urges him on.

“You never answered my question.”

He knows nothing of you except that the blood in your mouth was spilled for him.

“I’m your teammate. That ought to be enough for you.”

It would have to be.

#mutt tag #everybody say hi to mutt I love her #writing the cod men still scares me but were here for a fun time not a long time #thinking of just doing short little drabbles like this that show mutt's interactions with multiple men of the 141 and some eventual smut #because werewolf means HEAT #but we need to have some lore/background first so thats why this is here #writing that pairing description has me hiding my face in my hands #but middle school me is screaming in triumph #cringe is dead we do things for fun #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #thinking itll become a poly ship as time goes on but we shall see #anyways i love mutt now lol shes my babygirl #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish x female reader #female reader #johnny soap mactavish x female reader #theres probably a spelling error in here i missed but im. sleeby

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