#I FELT MORE WHEN I PLAYED PRETEND THEN WITH ALL THE KENS

[tayloralisonswift]

“he never even scratched the surface of me. none of them did” and “i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens” and “i used to switch out these kens, i’d just ghost” and “all the boys and their expensive cars with their range rovers and their jaguars never took me quite where you do” and “your lover in the foyer doesn’t even know you” would all be excellent lyrics describing what it’s like to force yourself to date men when you don’t want to. which could mean nothing!

[seeingivy]

everyone waiting for the dream girl chapter meanwhile im just adding every song that fits to the playlist (in chronological order w/ the chapters like I usually do) and watching the end of the fic play out

it's like watching my own movie i love imagination

[inchidentallylestappen]

just thought of my boy only breaks his favourite toys in brocedes context and now im unstable

[katierosefun]

my boy only breaks his favorite toys hurts more as a marvey-coded song because. what if i said that when harvey was playing pretend with mike that they could pull off the fraud. that was probably when he was happiest. when i explain that mike took harvey out of his box and stole harvey's tortured heart and left all of harvey's broken parts and told him he's better off. what then!

[titsthedamnseason]

are you normal or does the mbobhft bridge send you into a deranged spiral

[itspileofgoodthings]

He was my best friend!! Down at the sandlot!!!!!!!!

[lunar-years]

taylor really had herself a Barbie summer last year and then went into the studio and churned out My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys. everyone say thank you greta gerwig!

[talaok]

Sunbathing

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.

Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.

a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself

"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.

He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.

"Not like this"

You smiled, "what does that even mean?"

"not out... here"

You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation

Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.

"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"

"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"

You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.

"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"

You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.

"You're incorrigible"

"And you're torturin' me darlin'"

"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"  

"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"

He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.

"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"

"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face

"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless

"no baby" you shook your head

He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest

"I'll have a swim then"

"have fun honey"

__ __ __

"darlin'?"

Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.

"yes?"

He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.

"don't ya need sunscreen?"

A soft smile pulled at your lips.

Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.

"I put it on already"

He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.

"how long ago?"

"an hour, I think"

"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"

You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.

"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"

"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"

he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his

"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone

"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"

"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him

"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.

"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"

"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"

He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.

He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-

Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.

The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.

"feels good?"

"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.

It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.

You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.

"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.

"I didn't say anything"

If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...

He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.

He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.

It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.

But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.

"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.

"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.

He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.

"so are you"

And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.

A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.

"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"

The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.

And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.

he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.

"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless

His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.

You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.

"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"

Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan

"I can take care of you if you want"

He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"

Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest

"’S too hot to have sex here baby"

His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.

"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"

His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.

"bring me back into the house"

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.

He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.

His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.

He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.

“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.

Your husband was a very gifted man.

"'m not gonna last"

He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.

"'s ok"

"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”

Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.

“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”

“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan

“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”

His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.

“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”

You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair

“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.

The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.

He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.

He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.

You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.

“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.

“Feel better now?”

You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head

“Yes I do”

And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.

He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.

He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.

His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.

So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.

“Fuck-babe-”

Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.

You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.

His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-

“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.

“Shit-baby- god!”

You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.

You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.

Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so

“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.

He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.

He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist

“You’re crazy”

He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,

“You make me”

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 17 - period sex

soap x f!reader | 2.5k words cw: noncon/rape, periods and menstrual blood, blood as lube, comeplay, bloodplay, restraints, gags, stalking, some sexism from side character, food, abrupt-ish ending a/n: the way i could've kept going. blink-and-you'll-miss-it plot. lightly edited. summary: you're chum in the water. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

The lights hum louder than usual, buzzing like flies in your ears. They compound your headache and the nauseous blur hugging the edges of your vision. The heat is thick and oppressive, open flames on all sides of your station. One quick move, and you think you might faint. 

Such is Saturday night.

“What happened to the caviar dish for–”

“Gave it to the maintenance man. A gift.”

You sharply inhale, biting back something more sour than the lemon gelée. “Expensive gift.” 

Jace adjusts his jacket in the reflection of a hanging sauté pan. “‘Least we can do. Third time the walk-in’s compressor has tried to fail. We can’t risk losing it.”

He’s not wrong, but he’s become insufferable ever since he made sous. More so than when he literally rubbed elbows with you in the kitchen.

Frustration bleeds into your words. “Of course.”

“And between you and me,” he chuckles. “The fella isn’t playing with a full deck. Twitchier and twitchier every time he’s here. And, he’s said–” 

“Jace, could you–ugh.” You don’t have time for gossip. You forcefully pluck a few sprigs of dill off its branch. “Just…Ask next time. That was a complete dish, ready to–”

“Don’t lecture me.” Jace interjects, staring down his nose with a sneer. He slides past your station, ducking close to ask. “That time of the month?”

You grip your santoku tighter and pretend the fresh lemon under your blade is Jace’s stupid neck.

You do not notice the maintenance man.

But the maintenance man notices you.

“Oh, what’s this?” The man attached to the hand down your leggings asks. 

You whimper pitifully through your repurposed eye mask, knowing precisely what he’s found. You hoped it would stop him, that he’d freak out in disgust and flee, but the moment that ‘oh’ left his mouth, you knew it was a futile hope. 

His fingertips come back bright red, slicked with blood, and leave a wet trail on your stomach. He wiggles them, chuckling before he reaches up and pats your cheek. Smearing blood, your nostrils flaring at the smell. What little light filters through your flat’s cheap blinds hits his eyes perfectly. Two blue rings, like swordfish, thin as he speaks.

“That’s alright. I dinnae mind runnin’ red lights.”

Head pounding from the amount of tears you’ve already shed since he surprised you in the bathroom, it takes you a second to compute. A second he takes advantage of.

Though your wrists are already uselessly cuffed to a headboard rail, your legs are free. Your leggings and panties, the pad still attached, are at your ankles by the time you remember. The realization hits you quicker than the cool air. Instinct takes the reins, and you kick out your feet hard. Your heel cracks across his skull, right in the dead center of a vaguely star-shaped scar on his temple. He cries out, barely smothering the sound in time. He keels over, hinging at the waist before sliding off the bed and crumpling to the ground.

He goes still.

Then his head turns slowly. Something selachian glares through the dark over his bicep as he cradles and tests the skin around the mark.

“S’not a good button to hit.” 

He rises to his feet and stands out of range of your legs. His hand drops to his belt, pulling it open and loose in one fluid movement. He gestures at your legs, which you’ve bent in an attempt to hide and protect yourself. “I ken you’re embarrassed, but it’s natural. It’s what we’ve been doin’ for a millennia. And I’m no’ the type of man to turn away a good cunt ‘cause she’s bloody. Extra lube, ye ken?”

His trousers and belt hit the floor with a muted thunk. He’s bare. The cock you’ve felt poke and jut against you as he hauled you to your bedroom springs free and bobs. Happy to see you. Leaking, red, and slightly curved. His fingers close around its base and glide, smearing the remnants of your blood with a stroke.

“Had a feelin’ ye’d be startin’ soon anyway. Ye were in such a foul mood last week.” 

Fear surges. The rancid taste on your tongue grows stronger, and your stomach churns. You rattle the cuffs above your head as he rucks off his shirt. Desperately, you rack your brain trying to place him, reckoning with both the fact that this bastard stalked you and is currently stalking toward you, arms wide like a zookeeper trying to corner a frightened animal.

His mouth curls. Feral. Jagged rows of teeth perfect for biting and tearing gleam. “Gonna play nice? Or do ye want a second bloody gash?”

In his hand is your boning knife, taken from your roll. He must’ve watched when you dropped your things upon arriving home. And it clicks, then and there, where you saw him.

Another night, another shitshow. Half a dozen men and women barking in your ear as you minded the cod, ignoring the blanket of sweat under your whites. Waving off some man with a toolbox that the stagiaire let in. Missing caviar. Jace’s crude question. A man hovering at the door of the walk-in. The same man you barely acknowledged when you stepped out for a break, glued to your phone. Who you continued to ignore, needing a minute alone, who you thought was taking pictures of the mural on the restaurant but must’ve– 

“Saw how ye handled this and the others. Good hands. Nimble little things.” He steps closer, testing. He hums, pleased when you remain still. “Knew I couldn’t let ‘em be free, as bad as I want ye to rake those claws down my back. You’re somethin’ fierce when you’re mad. We’re the same that way, so be good. Nod if ye understand.”

You do. Mechanical and stiff, resignation and dread intermixing in your blood. You don’t want to die.

He whistles as he clambers back onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. You watch him part them, limbs locked in both panic and a shred of noncompliance. The word ‘condom’ sits, preemptively smothered, on the back of your tongue. It suffocates there, knowing it’s no use.

With his unoccupied hand, he grips the base of his cock and dips its head to your bloody, drenched core. You hiss under the fabric, but he doesn’t push in. He pulls it back, groaning at the sight. His fist glides up his messy shaft, stroking himself with a loose grip. His head falls back, lips parting in silence. It almost looks like he’s going to come from just this, he looks rapturous, and then a sound bubbles up from his chest, low in his throat. He snaps forward, and the knife sails forward, clutched in a tight fist.

There isn’t even time to scream, your stomach simply falls. You brace, every muscle in your body flexing and seizing in a hard flinch. Your life, the thousands of hours spent in hundreds of kitchens, the countless meals and tears shed—it all flashes before your eyes. 

But nothing comes. 

Instead, a faint vibration passes through your skull and hands. The man above you breathes heavily. Panting open-mouthed, his air puffing down the slope of your forehead. Convincing yourself to open your eyes takes effort, but you do as your trembling slows. You lift your chin, stare into the man’s gaping mouth and crazed eyes, then up even further. Your stomach drops like a stone.

The knife is buried in the headboard.

There’s no time to dwell, no time to calm the rapid beat of your heart. 

The slap of his cock to your sensitive skin reorients your world. 

“Red’s m’favorite color,” he mumbles, words slurring like he’s drunk. His eyes drill into your matted hair and slick cunt. Revulsion sits heavy on your chest, rocking back and forth over your ribs, feet firmly planted on your sternum. His hand does the same. It slides over your lower stomach, petting it. Then it presses harder and harder to the point where it rivals the dull ache of your cramps, and you struggle to hold back a noise. “Fuck, it just keeps comin’.”

It does. Your blood gushes from where you’re spread open, pooling under your ass and ruining your sheets. No amount of water or hydrogen peroxide will ever get the stain out. You’ll need to throw them away. Your mattress, too. Your whole flat.

“Does it hurt?” His nails rasp across your skin at your silence, lifting when you hastily nod. “Poor thing.”

The pressure on your stomach eases, but it shifts elsewhere. His cock slips through your folds, then nudges at your hole. It’s mortifying, the wet sounds, the ease with which his head slides in. Its heat lights a match that travels behind your navel, the whisper of something terrible and inevitable.

“This’ll make it feel better. I’ll fix it.” 

Then he pushes, steadily sinking in one long plunge. It’s revolting. Hurts. Reminds you of burning metal. The smell of sweat and blood clings to the air like a damp cloth, so heavy it perforates your gag, coating the inside of your mouth before you notice you’re breathing it in quick, panicked gasps. It’s an eternity before he bottoms out, settling flush against you. He rests for only a moment before pulling back.

The squelch makes your innards flip and summons a new flood of tears.

Above you, his expression slightly softens, but impatience leaches into his voice. “Shh, shh, you’re fine, not even goin’ yet.” He rolls his hips for a bit, watching you cry under him. His head tilts every so often, almost reptilian. Detached, studying. Eventually, decision flickers behind his eyes. He mumbles something and lowers himself.

His elbow anchors beside you, supporting his weight as it lands. His chest is warm against yours, its hair coarse and thick. He squeezes your tit, guiding it toward his mouth to suck the nipple between his lips. Behind their lids, his eyes move as if dreaming, then blink rapidly, like he can’t believe where he is or what he’s doing. He smiles around your flesh, biting and tugging your nipple with a happy hum.

“See? Not so bad,” He releases your breast and cups your cheek, adding another smear to your skin. You wince as he plants a kiss over your parted mouth, tonguing the silk he placed behind your teeth himself. He acts as if it isn’t there, upping his pace into short, shallow thrusts as he makes out with your eye mask, tongue occasionally catching your teeth and chin. “Soon as you’re off the rag, gonna do this to your cunt.”

You whimper at his promise, which just makes him moan. Makes him shudder and grit his teeth.

He becomes enthralled with watching your face as he fucks you. Adjusting according to what he sees, but he’s often wrong, a priest too deep in his cups to read his knucklebones. The twitch of brow or tone of your gasps. Too far gone, too drenched in his pleasure to try and make sense of yours. But even a broken clock is right twice a day, and at some point, he stops petting your damp eye socket with his thumb to find your clit.

To your fury, he finds his rhythm and matches it to his brutish thrusts. Heat spreads under your skin, making your toes curl and knees press to his sides. Even with all your sniffling and muffled curses, he stares, fascinated. Entranced. “Oh, fuck, ye look–ye look so good like this. Chokin’ the life out–”

You howl, pathetic and hateful. Beneath his weight your body jerks uncontrollably, your quivering thighs welded to his sides by sweat. Your orgasm rushes out of you like a tidal wave, sweeping up everything else—his face, the pain, even the way the light bends through the blinds. For a moment, it’s as though you’re outside of your own body, the rush of endorphins and adrenaline stamping out reality if only for a few seconds. But there is no reprieve as you come down, no soft landing. John pats your clit, cooing when it makes you clench around him again.

“Next time,” he bets on the future again, the stars still popping in your eyes. “I’ll let ye keep your tongue free. Ye’ll call me ‘John’, then.”

Learning his name makes it somehow worse.

Mortification scorches your insides to fond for him to scrape up and use again. John’s thrusts turn punishing. The obscene sounds of him rutting into your sopping pussy bounce off the walls. It’s deafening, and the scent of blood is heavy and overpowering. It knocks you back into the kitchen, gloved hands slick with entrails and reeking brine, avoiding looking at the eyes beyond the customary tests. You’ve always felt some measure of empathy for the things, but maybe not enough, you think, as John pinches your clit. Your knives, extensions of your hands, scaling and gutting and cleaning until they’re perfect cuts. Remnants of their former selves. Lighter and emptier. 

It’s how it feels when he wrings another orgasm out of you, pleasure sharply turning to pain as he takes what he wants. Hollowing you out.

His hand returns again to your face, which screws up in disgust and contorts with your sobs. His palm is bathed in your essences, slipping around to the back of your head to bring you into another not-kiss. He presses your foreheads together, panting feverishly. He rambles, one long string of filth. How tight you go, how perfect you feel. How hot, how wet, how yours is the messiest and best pussy he’s ever had. The last pussy he’ll ever have.

When he comes, his weight knocks into you full force. The steel around your wrist digs into flesh and the air is driven from your lungs in a yelp. Notching his cock deep to the seal of your womb painfully, soothing with a torrent of cum. His shoulders slump, elbow near collapsing as he gradually comes to rest atop you. Even if you weren’t cuffed, the heft of him would lock you in place.

It’s some time—minutes or hours, it doesn’t matter—before he pulls back to sit on his haunches. His softening cock tugs free, releasing a deluge of cum and blood. It squishes beneath the cleft of your ass. You’d cry if you had anything left.

Apparently sated, he treats your abused and blood-soaked cunt like an inkwell. He guides his tip through your flood so many times, it lulls you into a strange, middle space. You’re simultaneously in your bed, shackled under a psychopath, and at the same time, floating elsewhere. Somewhere untouchable. You don’t feel the bite of the cuffs or the soreness between your legs.

You slip under.

Later, wide-awake at the business end of your knife, you struggle to swallow the tinned fish he pushes in your mouth with his fingers. He washed you both in the shower, but you taste phantom traces of iron.

John coos at your floundering and swipes a bit of escaped flesh back into your mouth with his thumb. He hooks it in your cheek to watch you chew.

“It’s good, right?” He meets your eye with a genuine smile. “It’s good for you.”

[hoes4hoseok]

enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together 

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭 

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end 

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were 

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures 

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years. 

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you) 

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life. 

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that 

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others 

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him? 

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

[unrelaxing]

I've been a fan of Taylor Swift's music since 2008. I have her CDs (and some cassettes), and while I like some albums better than others, I have never disliked an album. TTPD is the first. I've listened to it twice because sometimes it takes a bit for something to grow on you, and here are my thoughts as to why it isn't for me:

It sounds like one long, incredibly boring song. There's no variety in the album's sound; the melodies are super forgettable and by the time I get to the next song I've already forgotten the one that came before it. The fact that it's 2 hours long highlights all of this even more.

The album is lyrically her weakest. 'Tattooed golden retriever' will haunt me for the rest of my days, but shout-out to 'at dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one / people put wedding rings on' and 'I felt more when we played pretend / than with all the Kens' for sending those Rupi Kaur "every run on sentence can be deep" vibes.

(I will also say when you contextualise the lyrics in terms of her life - if you're a big enough fan - or deep into pop culture - it's even more disappointing. There's a song about resenting her depressed partner for 'all the youth she wasted' on him, believing he sacrificed their relationship 'the the gods of his bluest days' - a very bad faith understanding of clinical depression and what it can do to a person. I know it's hard to be in a relationship with someone who has mental health issues, but man how much harder would it be for someone when their partner only sees them as a burden, and says so in the song about your break-up? Then when people criticise your new boyfriend for his racism and general asshole behaviour you write a song about how 'daddy I love him' and talk about how your fans are pearl clutching. It's just... disappointing.)

People are calling the album "raw" and I agree - but in the "this needed more time in the oven before being served" kind of way.

All in all, the album just feels and sounds ... trite.

[tastethesetears]

i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens

[dancefloor]

i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens (i used to switch out these kens, i’d just ghost) how dare you think it’s romantic, leaving me save and stranded? (please leave me stranded, it’s so romantic) i stopped cpr, after all, it’s no use (i can’t find a pulse, my heart won’t start anymore) i died on the altar waiting for the proof (i’d marry you with paper rings. he better lock it down. the only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife) you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days (don’t want no other shade of blue but you) two graves, one gun, you’ll find someone (my only one, my smoking gun) growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all (i never grew up, it’s getting so old) my friends tried but i wouldn’t hear it, watched me daily, disappearing for just one glimpse of his smile (tell your friends you’re out for a run, you’ll be flushed when you return) i leap from the gallows and i levitate down your street, crash the party like a record scratch (i’m a monster on the hill; too big too hang out, slowly lurching towards your favorite city) the jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud (you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me) i can’t get out of bed because something counterfeit is dead (it must be counterfeit, i think there’s been a glitch) i would’ve died for your sins, instead i just died inside (i gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all) six weeks of breathing clean air, i still miss the smoke (ten months sober, i must admit, just because you’re clean don’t mean you don’t miss it)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Omg hey I woul like to request something ! Ken x Reader (male, if possible) where the reader teaches Ken about the real world and they're also very in love. Thank you very much !

When Ken returned to the Real World again, he had a vision similar to Barbie's--realizing his owner was nearby.

Instead of a child....it's you, an adult who (like Gloria) inadvertently projected your own insecurities onto him while looking at an unboxed Beach Ken doll in your attic.

When you were younger, you really wanted to play with it unlike other boys who had action figures and nerf guns...but you were sorta shamed into keeping it boxed, as your parents said it would be more "valuable" one day.

Similarly..Ken had been stuck in a box all his life, trapped in the role of Barbie's accessory until recently.

So there's an instant connection when you two meet.

To make a long story short, you're like "ohhh hey I guess I kinda fucked up your mental stability, bro...you wanna come over and we can talk about it, man-to-man?"

He was very eager to go with you and learn more about your world beyond all the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

You tell him about using your "male privilege" for good, and one defining example was when a random woman taps him on the shoulder, looking terrified and almost in tears.

"H-Hi, um..this is gonna sound really awkward but can you two pretend to be my friends for a second? This guy has been following me-"

"Of course." You reassure her, before looking to the confused Ken and telling him to go along with it.

The creepy guy comes along and backs off when he sees you two standing there protecting this lady, and once he's gone, she thanks you with hugs before leaving.

"I think I did a good job." Ken turns to you for validation, eyes shimmering. "Was that good, [y/n]? I mean playing pretend is all I've ever done so-"

"Yep. You did great." You chuckle, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad she thought you were a safe person to approach."

He nods and is giddy the whole way back home, especially when you get into your car and show him the different mechanisms, with him clinging to every detail.

These life lessons you're teaching him, however, made him think back to the "Kendom"...and he admits to trying to reinvent patriarchy there and feels ashamed of how he treated the Barbies.

He didn't think he'd open up this quickly to you, considering he never had any "manly" talks with other Kens (besides beach-offs).

But besides you being his owner, there's something about you that just made him feel...secure enough to do so. Like he could tell you anything.

You listen and reassure him that acknowledging his mistakes was a great first step to unlearning those toxic mindsets.

With all of that finally hashed out, you decide to show him the simple pleasures of the real world. Like cooking, watching TV, playing video games, etc.

Just mundane things you regularly do, with Ken picking up on some of your habits/routines as well as having some independence of his own.

You two grow closer as a result over the next few weeks, and you began falling for him and his humor and his charming smiles-

Yeah, you're 100% smitten for this doll who crossed worlds to meet you.

But you're not sure if he felt (or even could feel) the same way, since he was made to love Barbie and was...clearly still getting over his "breakup" with her. So you left it be.

That changes when you show him some emotional movie where the lead male characters showed vulnerability (ie Good Will Hunting or Brokeback Mountain) and he unconsciously holds your hand as he stares at the screen, tears staining his cheeks.

While the credits roll, your heart melts as he looks at you with those pretty blue eyes, his watery smile persistent.

"Th-Thanks for showing me this, [y/n].."

"Of course, Ken. Now you know that us guys don't always have to pretend to be tough. We're allowed to have feelings." You rub your thumb across his knuckles, a sweet gesture which makes him blush.

On the subject of feelings, he realizes that the ones he has for you are...leaning more into romance than "bromance" (yeah you taught him that term and it's part of his vocabulary now).

He becomes uncharacteristically quiet when you ask him what's on his mind, before he leans in to kiss you on the cheek. Purely on impulse.

You're both flustered at what happened, yet he panics internally when you don't say anything, trying to get up to leave so you didn't see him cry over the stupid decision he made-

"Ken, it's okay." You take his hands, convincing him to sit back down. "I had no idea you swung that way, but I'm...actually glad."

"Glad? Y-You're not...mad or anything?" He sniffles.

"Of course not. I....was planning to come out of the closet sooner or later. I just didn't know when or how to bring it up, but....I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, thank god."

"So...does this makes us boyfriend and g....boyfriend?"

"If you want it to be, sure. I wouldn't mind a handsome doll being the love of my life." You wink.

Ken mirrors your smile, relieved to know you reciprocated his feelings.

Then he gets stumped on something and his eyebrows furrow.

"Wait...what closet were you talking about?"

Oh boy.

You just chuckle and give him a kiss on the lips.

Falling in love with a Ken doll from Barbieland certainly wasn't on your bucket list....

But you're perfectly content with that.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Kens, ‘cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me I'm better off, but I'm not / And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite

[titsthedamnseason]

today i unlocked new depths to the lilo interpretation of my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“once i fix me he’s gonna miss me” = lily thinking that once she’s recovered lo won’t want to be in a relationship or like her as much because she won’t enable his drinking / bad behavior and it will always make their sex life more complicated. like he will miss the old version of her in the original stages of their relationship because that lily was “easier” to be with and she doesn’t want him to resent her

their tethers to the rest of the outro are so straightforward and obvious that it feels like it goes without saying but also the “told me i’m better off / but i’m not” is so when lo goes away to rehab and promises this will be better for lily but she doesn’t think being without him is ever the better scenario and has a hard time believing that recovery is the best option for them / that they have to be separated to fully recover. like he’s promising it’s for the best but she just doesn’t buy it

💔💔💔