#I don’t know where this gifset comes from

[skzms]

🌃⊹°˖➴ in my dreams, i never have to be alone kim seungmin x f!reader (implied x yang jeongin)

summary: prologue to don't wake me, I'm dreaming of home, but can be read separately. you, seungmin and jeongin have been best friends since the day you met - more than best friends, you've been living in each other's pocket, sleeping all three in a bed more nights than not. what happens when you and seungmin climb into the frat house jacuzzi at one of their parties? lines may finally be crossed

word count: 7k words

author's note: I have no reason for this except I couldn't stop thinking about them <3 can be read separately, but I really recommend reading the whole thing because the fic is so very dear to me. if you want to know, this is the gifset I was staring at while writing this. he's so dreamy. (also I have barely had time to write so this was written over many sessions so if it sucks, pls don't even tell me lol I know it's probably not my best, but it's the best I could do)

warnings: college!au; codependent besties to lovers; (implied) mxm action, as usual; unprotected and intoxicated (but very consensual!) sex; semi-public sex; dirty talk; fingering; body hair otherwise pretty vanilla!!

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

“Y/N we can’t …” Seungmin hiccups, “we can’t do this here!”

You giggle. The world spins a little bit, the stars in the night sky all blurry and streaky. EDM music booms from inside the frat house, through the clear night air, dulled by the closed windows and doors, but still clearly audible. The night air is balmy, the first warm one of the year.

The big terrace and the lawn of the frat are empty. It’s well past midnight. Chan herded everyone inside hours ago to avoid another noise complaint. You and Seungmin stole outside to smoke, shared a joint on the steps to the side entrance, huddled together, whispering, giggling, you sitting a step below him, your head on his thigh, sleepily blinking up at him in a way that sent his mind reeling.

On your way back inside, you spot it, mostly hidden from the main windows in the living room, behind an awning. The jacuzzi. One glance into the living room tells you that you’re alone. The party is in full swing, nobody’s watching. You don’t need any more of an excuse.

Alcohol makes you giddy and impulsive.

“Ah, come ooooon,” you singsong, already skipping over to it, kicking your sneakers and pulling your socks off. Seungmin follows, footing uneven, his sense of reason floating about five feet above his head, courtesy of the drinks and the weed and the energy and maybe even the cloudless night and the first smell of summer on the air.

The jacuzzi bubbles, shimmers an inviting light blue. It’s one of those nights where you feel invincible. Like the world was made for you. These are the nights you will tell your children about once they’re all grown up, you think. The nights that will prove to them that their Mom used to be cool, too.

You cross your arms, take a hold of the hem of your thin knit jumper, and pull it over your head without hesitation. The tank top you’re wearing underneath it follows. You don’t look back to see if Seungmin is watching. Something deep inside you hopes he is.

Alcohol makes you giddy and impulsive. Weed makes you horny and makes you want the two people you know you can’t have. Makes you toe the line, hoping you’ll stumble and finally fall across it.

“You know Innie would do it, if he were here,” you hum as you pop the button of your jeans.

Seungmin sucks in a breath. He could stop, he could not look, but your back is facing towards him. And he’s watched you plenty of times before, secretly, through a crack in the door, or not so secretly, before you crawled into bed with him and Jeongin, eyes greedily raking over any inch of skin you granted him to see. And a part of him wonders if you want him to watch. If you feel it all, too.

You shuck your jeans down your soft thighs, bend over to push them the rest of the way and kick them off your legs, and the rational part of Seungmin’s brain is fighting a losing battle. He thanks his lucky stars that he doesn’t get hard easily because you’re already descending into the hot, bubbling water, the fabric of your underwear clinging to you, before you turn around, waving him towards you with a smile on your face that spells trouble. Seungmin wonders if tonight will be the night that everything changes.

The jacuzzi is warm, but goosebumps race over your skin nonetheless. Maybe it’s the cool night air on your wet shoulders, or the weed, or the thrill of being out here while everyone else is inside. Or maybe it’s the way Seungmin is looking at you, his face unreadable, as always, but his eyes glimmering with something you don’t dare name. You lick your lips, and watch deliriously as Seungmin’s eyes follow the motion as if in a trance.

You smile, lift your finger, crook it, motion for him to come closer. He hesitates for only a second before he does.

Without taking his eyes off you, he toes off his sneakers, pulls off his socks, and finds the hem of his shirt with his hands. Tonight, you don’t look away. Watch him reveal inch after inch of milky, soft skin, stretched taut over his skinny frame. There’s a shadow of a happy trail under his belly button that you know too well, having spent too many stolen moments committing it to memory. His chest isn’t thick, but sweetly defined, his nipples pebbling in the cool night air. There’s a smattering of soft, dark brown hair curling on his chest. His collarbones look like they could cut glass, give him the air of a statue hewn from marble.

Then he pulls the shirt the rest of the way off, and he meets your eyes again, and you don’t know if you’re terrible at hiding just how much you want him, but you think his chest is starting to rise and fall more rapidly. Then his long, gorgeous hands find the fly of his jeans and your mouth goes dry.

Your eyes, glued to his hands as he undoes his pants, nearly makes Seungmin lose his head. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the way you’re looking at him, or if you’re not looking at him in any way at all, and he’s just imagining it.

He pops the button, drags the zipper of his jeans down. You blink, like you’re coming out of a daze, then your gaze shoots up, your eyes meet his and heat licks up his spine. He realises he’s on borrowed time now, only precious little time to get undressed and into the water before he can no longer hide what you do to him. And he’d rather not find out like that, if wishful thinking has made him delusional.

You watch as he shoves his pants down, your gaze dropping right back down, over the swell of his cock in his briefs, mouth-wateringly heavy-looking even just like this, then down further, over the soft skin of his thighs, the sparse hair that decorates it. When his pants are finally off, your heart is in your throat, your fingertips aching for him to get in, to come closer, even if your courage fails you, even if you don’t get to touch him, just so he’s at least closer, but …

You huff out a laugh.

Seungmin looks up from where he’s haphazardly folding his jeans to throw them where his shoes are and meets your sparkling eyes, giggling.

“What?!”

“Just …” you laugh, the weed making every giggle fizz bliss through your veins like they’re filled with champagne, “just … god, just leave them and get in here.”

You hope Seungmin can’t hear the neediness colouring your voice. Seungmin does hear it. It makes his dick start filling out in earnest, and he throws his jeans out of dodge. He throws his jeans out of dodge quickly (he still doesn’t want them to get dirty and wet, he’d prefer not to have to walk home all the way across campus in only his wet boxers, thank you very much) and takes his first step into the fizzing water. It’s pleasantly warm. The bubbles of the jets tingle on his skin, sensitive from the weed.

Under your watchful eyes, he takes the next step, then another, until he finally sinks down onto the little bench opposite you, warm water lapping up to his chest, a bubble jet massaging his side.

You both freeze there for a moment, but you never stop looking at him, and it’s not like Seungmin can tear his eyes away from you. Your body is mostly hidden, miles of soft skin, hidden under the bubbling water washing against you, droplets beading on your shoulders. Your face is bathed in light blue, shadow and light dancing over your skin, making your eyes sparkle with every movement. A smudge of mascara under your left eye. A sore spot on your lip where you’ve no doubt been biting it, a habit you never could shake. Somewhere inside, the music is still playing, but it feels like the source of it, the party you escaped from, is half a world away. Like there’s only you and him in this moment. Seungmin’s heart hammers in his chest. It’s not the first time he felt like he was standing right at the precipice of something, with you and Jeongin, like one careless movement could change everything. But it’s never, ever felt this real.

Your breathless laugh breaks the silence, makes Seungmin’s eyes flick back up from where they were glued to your lips. Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, your whole body screaming for him. You get up on shaky legs, watch Seungmin’s eyes dip down to the swell of your tits in your wet bra for only a split second before they’re back to being trained on your face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It almost makes you laugh. He’s adorable. You take a tentative step forward.

“Why are you all the way over there …”_

And really, you’re clumsy on a good day, much like Jeongin is. Seungmin makes fun of you for it at least once a week, calling you a danger to yourself and society, taking hot pans and sharp knives out of your hands, his heart thumping in his chest. So he shouldn’t be surprised, when you take a step, your eyes widen, and your foot finds a smooth piece of the floor, instead of one that is covered in those little bumps that are meant to prevent just that – and tumble forwards.

You manage to catch yourself with a hand on the side of the jacuzzi next to Seungmin’s head, but you would’ve slipped sideways, maybe cracked your skull open, if his arm hadn’t shot out, as if on instinct, catching you mid-fall, wrapping securely around your waist and letting you down gently on the bench next to him, one of your legs draped over his lap and–

Oh. He caught you, of course he did, he always catches you, but … you’re so close. He’s right in front of you.

Your Seungmin. Your and Jeongin’s Seungmin. Your best friend. Your home. With his broad nose and his full lips, his cupid’s bow so pretty and kissable, his perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed in concern, probably because you just nearly fell, but you can’t care about that. His concern makes him look all serious and stern, his big, dark eyes, at half-mast, fluttering down to your lips. When he looks back in your eyes, all the sternness melts. Into something softer, something hungrier, something that you greedily wish was made just for you. It’s irresistible. You stare into his eyes. He stares back, his eyes flitting back down to your lips.

And you don’t know who leans in first, but his lips find yours and the only thing you can think is finally.

His lips are plump and as soft as they look, and they move against yours without a shred of hesitation, the tip of his nose pressing into your cheek. His hand comes up behind your head, nudges your head to the side, gently slides his hot, velvet tongue into your mouth and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life.

When his tongue brushes against yours, you let out a choked moan that goes straight between Seungmin’s legs and if he was needy before, he feels like he’s starving now. He kisses you deeper, presses closer, feels your fingers run up his chest, over his shoulders, up to the sides of his neck, pulling him closer in turn, pressing your sweet lips against his harder, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth, and he follows, desperately, blindly, until you lose your balance and nearly fall backwards into the water again, but he tightens his arm around you just in time, uses his grip on you to haul you up and into his lap, a wave of water lapping over the side of the jacuzzi as you come to rest there, your knees on either side of his hips, your pretty ass on his thighs.

For all the times you’ve touched, all the times you’ve sat in his lap, you’ve never crossed this line. He thinks it’s because you both knew that if you had, you would’ve ended up right here.

You blink at him, your lips, swollen, kiss slick and slightly parted in the most adorable little o and then wet hands slide into the hair at the back of his head, and you’re kissing him again, so deeply and greedily arousal lances through him and his hips stutter up into nothing. His dick is hard. Just a little bit of kissing with you, and he’s full-mast, absolutely rock fucking hard and aching. He would laugh if your tongue wasn’t in his mouth and he wasn’t trying to not lose his damn mind.

He winds his arm around your waist, but he doesn’t even have to pull – you drag yourself closer all on your own, chest pressing against his, your hips dragging forwards until oh good god.

He doesn’t dare move, sitting there with you perched basically on his cock, you sucking his tongue into your mouth because … because … There’s not enough … fuck, there’s not enough fabric between you. Your chest is covered, but he can feel your belly against his, the softness of your arms over his shoulders, your naked waist under his palms – and your barely clothed heat right above his cock, only separated by two flimsy pieces of soaking wet cotton that allow him … he drags you closer, kisses you harder, his breath hot and heavy against your tongue, trying to distract himself but also selfishly, foolishly, desperately needing you closer because – fuck, he can feel every single curve of your pussy against his cock, and he has never wanted anyone as badly before in his life.

Your hand slides deeper into Seungmin’s hair, tugs just enough to make his breath hitch, as you slowly, carefully, experimentally grind your hips forward, carding through the short black hair as you kiss him, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him groan into your lips desperately.

Your other hand slides down, explores every inch of him you can reach, gliding over the skin of Seungmin’s shoulder, his arms. When your palm drags down his chest, grazes his nipple, smoothes up towards his collarbones and his neck, his cock twitches underneath you and, shit, you knew Seungmin was big (though not too big, you always thought, judging from the stolen glances when he was in his boxers or his sweats – long and thick in just the right proportions that he would probably feel heavily inside of you) but feeling the thickness of his cock drag against your barely clothed centre makes him feel so much bigger.

You would be nervous, but you know you can take it; have shoved several fingers into yourself on nights alone in your room, or those few nights when it was just you, alone in Seungmin’s bed, pressing their pillows into your nose, dreaming of Seungmin, dreaming of Jeongin … The thought of Jeongin nearly makes you buckle under the weight of your longing. Your mind is still hazy, and it’s ridiculously easy to imagine what it would be like if he were here with you, instead of back home, for his grandma’s birthday. If he was right here, in this damn frat house jacuzzi, almost naked, too, his eyes dark, the tips of his hair dripping rivulets of water that run down his toned, thick chest. You find it simultaneously easy and difficult to imagine what he would be like, maybe because you know him so well. Your mind wanders. You imagine the heat of his body behind you, his beautiful, big, knobby hands wrapping around your body, one cupping your breasts, the other reaching out further, sliding into Seungmin’s short, dark hair, tugging even harder than you are, or maybe softly cupping his face … You imagine his hard cock, rutting against your ass as he leans over to drag Seungmin into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss …

You whimper into Seungmin’s lips and Seungmin’s swears he gets dizzy, with you, the heat of the jacuzzi, the grind of your pussy over his cock, your greedy, demanding hands mapping out each and every inch of his body. It’s everything he wanted, but he can’t help it, his mind wanders because it inevitably always does, to you and … to Jeongin.

Seungmin’s hand runs down, smoothes over the plush of your ass, down your thighs and up to your ass again, and he wonders, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if Jeongin was here.

The mental image of him, sitting in one of the deck chairs, leaning back casually, maybe, his ridiculously built arms crossed over his thick chest, that stupidly cocky grin on his face, narrow, foxy, almost predatory eyes locked onto you and Seungmin, watching you, watching the filthy kisses and Seungmin’s hands and the way you’re rutting your pussy over him, the water doing nothing to hide what’s going on. God, keep going, imaginary Jeongin says, laughs, leans forward, brings one hand down to palm his cock, I’ve been wanting this for years …

Seungmin nearly comes, right there and then, only holds on by a thread and an ungodly amount of self-control, his fingers digging into your hips, forcing you to still.

His head falls back with a quiet groan, eyebrows drawn together and when his head lolls back forward, your breath hitches in your throat. He looks wrecked. He looks beautiful. You’re so fucking in love with him.

“Y/Nie,” he whispers, screws his eyes shut, but you interrupt him.

“Don’t tell me to stop. Please, don’t tell me to stop.”

It’s a breathless whisper, your eyes glued to his lips, your wet hands coming up to cup his face, one of your thumbs swiping over his cheek. His heart aches. He blinks. His heart cracks open. His feelings bleed out of his fingertips and into your skin.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he murmurs, and you meet his eyes. And you understand. The smile that tugs on your lips is beautiful, lit as it is by the blue of the jacuzzi, and he’s helpless. He’s so fucking in love with you.

He winds his hand around the back of your neck, leans up and crashes his lips back into yours.

This time it’s you who pulls away, breathing hard, pressing your forehead against his like being any further away from him would physically hurt you. Your eyes meet.

“Jeongin,” you mutter, and you look so worried. But Seungmin knows. He’s seen how you look at him, how your eyes follow him across any room. How you always stretch an arm over him when he’s in the middle, so you can touch Jeongin, too. He has worried, agonised, of course, whether it was him, only him, but now, with you in his lap and all the love in the world in your eyes, all he can do is let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “me, too.”

You pull back a little, far enough that you can see his entire face.

“You … too?”

It makes nerves bubble in his veins. He’s not good with words, never has been. He thought he could get away with not having to take the chance, not having to say it.

“You’re in love with him,” he says, almost matter-of-factly. The blush blooming on his cheeks says otherwise. You blink at him, then huff in defeat. Here goes nothing. You hope he kissed you like that because he loves you back.

“I … I am, but … I’m also in love with you.”

You say it so sweetly, so calmly. His belly erupts into butterflies.

“M-me, too,” he mumbles, pulls you closer again until he can kiss your lips softly. “Both of you. Always have been.”

You let the words sink in. You laugh out in disbelief. Something in your chest clicks into place.

“Do you …” you start, leaning in to nudge your nose against Seungmin’s. His eyes flutter shut in a movement so vulnerable it sends your heart into a flurry. “D-do you think he loves us, too?”

Seungmin smiles almost sadly, drags you closer, presses a kiss to your cheek, all without opening his eyes once.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully.

Your lips brush against the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then his jaw. The gesture is so soft it makes his heart skip a beat. He runs a thumb over the skin of your lower back.

“I think he might …” you murmur, press another kiss to the bottom of his jaw that makes him shiver, despite the warmth of the water.

“Yeah?”

Seungmin asks, and you nod. You press a sloppy, wet kiss against his neck and his cock twitches. God, he’s so turned on.

Gently, he coaxes your face from his neck, cups your face until you’re looking into his eyes again. His other hand disappears back under the water, to your thigh, wandering up, hooking a finger under the waistband of your panties at the side of your waist. Your breath hitches and he smiles at you, makes sure you’re listening, before he manages to get it out.

“And just for the record, I love you, too,” he mumbles, and you stare at him for only a split second before you dive in.

The kiss this time is much less gentle. It’s sloppy, giddy, your smile brushing against the one he can’t hold back any more, pressing your body closer, swivelling your hips down over his cock, still half hard, despite all the talking. The finger he has hooked into your panties drives you fucking crazy. With one of your hands still buried in his hair, you let the other find his there.

When you pull it away from your body, you feel him falter, like he’s about to pull back and apologize, but when you slowly guide his hand between your legs, he shudders out a breath. And he doesn’t need to be told twice, though his breath comes shallower as his fingertips gently brush you over the cotton, the water making everything feel so different, but still mind-numbingly good, but still not even nearly enough.

“Come on,” you mutter, kiss him again, let your tongue dip into his mouth and right back out, making him chase your lips, “touch me. I’ve … ah I’ve waited too long for this.”

And to his credit, he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slip the material of your panties to the side, and then his middle and ring finger slide over your clit, wet and slippery with the water, and your head falls forward, your forehead thunking against his almost painfully.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. He rubs at your clit softly, gently, before dipping down, exploring you with his fingers. They’re sure in their touches, almost practised, and the thought makes jealousy flare up in your chest. You’ve only known him, known them, for two years, but that had always felt like a fluke. Like something had gone wrong somewhere, like you were meant to have grown up with them, meant to have been there to be their first, to not have to deal with the knowledge that there was someone before you.

Seungmin dips the tip of his ring finger inside of you, does a little twirling motion with it that makes you half insane with need. You rock your hips down, causing his finger to slip in to the first knuckle, and he sucks in a breath. You kiss it away, hips still moving in little movements, gentle fucking yourself on his finger. And he lets you. Just kisses you back, offers you his hand to hump, and it’s infuriating.

“Seung, please, for the love of God,” you huff against his lips, and he laughs, breathlessly, “I know you’re trying to be all gentle and shit, but I trust you, I’ve been waiting for this for two years, I need you inside of me yesterday.”

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, but there’s something deep, swirling in his eyes, before he pulls your hips down and buries his finger into you to the knuckle. His other hand, that’s still resting on your waist, traces a tortuously slow pace up your side. He leans forward, presses his lips to the wet, salty skin of your neck, sucks. You hope it leaves a mark.

“Two years …” he breathes. He fucks his finger into you, slowly but deeply, and it makes pleasure shiver down your spine. Then he crooks his finger, rubs the pad of it against your walls, and you can’t hold back the helpless twitching of your hips into his touch.

You nod blindly, but you can’t think of anything but the feeling of him inside of you

“M-more, pl-please,” you murmur, and this time you don’t have to wait. Seungmin bullies a second finger inside of you, and you sigh, eyes screwing shut because the pressure is so good. He sets a slow pace, fingering you open on his fingers so deeply and intentionally that you nearly double over, your thighs threatening to start trembling with every brush of his knuckles over your g-spot.

Seungmin knows he’s staring, but he can’t rip his eyes away. You look like a vision, better than any of his dirtiest dreams, better than any porn he’s ever watched; not like that ever did much for him, anyway. But you, towering over him, one of your hands on his shoulder, nails digging into skin, your eyes shut, head thrown back, sinful mouth open, moaning softly – your bra strap fallen down your arm, back arched, your tits jiggling with every bounce as you take your pleasure from him, fuck yourself on his fingers … it’s insane. He’s insane.

“Fuck, I love your fingers,” you babble, almost drunkenly. Seungmin’s chest swells with pride. “You have the nicest hands I’ve ever seen. Except maybe Innie’s.”

Seungmin’s guts burn with arousal. Should he be jealous? He’s not. He huffs out a laugh, but it’s gravelly.

“Except Innie’s, huh,” he teases, and watches as your lips pull into a smile. He crooks his fingers and you moan through it. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You lean down, find his lips, lick into his mouth filthily.

“You don’t think so?” you murmur into his mouth, and suddenly Seungmin understands the game you want to play. You unravel him with one sentence.

“Do you think I don’t see when you stare at his hands? Like last week, when he touched your thigh …”

Seungmin shivers. Last week, when you were all lounging on Seungmin’s couch on their phones, sending each other TikToks back and forth, when Jeongin’s hand had casually found his knee, slid up to rest on his thigh, just high enough to brush against the fabric of his shorts that had ridden up. Seungmin thought he had been at least a little bit subtle, though he knows his eyes were glued to Jeongin’s beautiful hand, his long fingers, the heavy silver ring, his thumb over his skin. He didn’t know you were watching then. God, you had been watching.

He shudders, and you huff out a laugh, though he can hear how much this affects, you, too. You fuck yourself down on his fingers harder, and it rips another twin moan out of both of you.

“W-wanna f-feel you both,” you whisper, and Seungmin’s thoughts spiral, imagines what it would feel like, Jeongin’s fingers, trailing up his wrist, up his own fingers, pushing inside of you alongside his, knuckles grinding against his as you writhe and beg above them, stretched, riding their fingers, begging for …

“Fuck,” he gasps out, the moan that follows louder than any sound he has ever heard himself make. His hips stutter up hard, make a wave of water rush out of the jacuzzi, soaking the wooden deck surrounding it.

You laugh, grind on his hand, your heart thundering in your chest. You feel manic. Insane. Drunk and high and everything in between.

“F-fuck, baby, fuck,” Seungmin curses. His brain feels like it’s about to leak out of his ears. “I never thought I would say this but, fuck, please let me fuck you. Please. I’m going insane.”

Another laugh, light as air, but with something laced into it Seungmin has never heard before. He feels crazed.

You tug at his wrist, enough to let him know to remove his fingers from you, and he complies, nearly loses his head when he feels your fingers tug his boxers down. It’s all a little bit awkward in the water, with you perched on his lap, but somehow you manage it. You suck in a breath when his cock finally springs free. He tries not to let it get to his head but fails spectacularly.

“Like what you see?” he teases, trying to play off just how affected he is. You wrap your hand around him, start stroking him torturously slowly and hum in agreement. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth with a soft laugh and a lazy grin that’s infuriatingly hot.

“Do you have any idea,” you mutter, press a kiss to his lips, “how often,” another kiss, “I’ve woken up,” another, deeper now, as you pull your underwear off your legs, “with your or Innie’s hard on pressing into my ass?”

Seungmin can’t help but laugh, but it’s breathless. He nearly chokes when he feels the head of his cock nudge against your folds. Everything suddenly feels too hot.

Your eyes get softer, and then you sink down.

“I’ve been dreaming of you for years,” you murmur and bottom out, and Seungmin feels like the breath is punched out of him. His hands fly to your hips, your back, trying ground himself because the feeling of you wrapped around him, so tight and hot and inviting is nothing short of overwhelming.

When he’s buried in you to the hilt you pause, take a moment to get used to the stretch, to the overwhelming knowledge that it’s Seungmin inside you, his hands on your body, his beautiful dark eyes staring into yours, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth like he’s trying to hold on, too.

It’s surprisingly comforting to be here, in his lap, your nails scratching over his scalp, your chest pressed against his, skin on skin. But then again, it makes sense. It’s Seungmin. You’ve always been safe with him.

You let your forehead fall forwards, come to rest against his again, before you carefully raise yourself up until only the tip of his cock is buried in you, before you sink down again. Seungmin moans, deeply, gutturally, slides down the seat of the jacuzzi to give you more room, to angle his hips and when you fuck yourself down on him again, it’s so good you nearly collapse into his arms.

His hand on your hip is steady, strong, and he uses it to coax you back up, then down, until you’re starting to set a steady rhythm. It’s pathetic, really, how gone you are, your thighs already shaking, but the pressure of him, the way he fills you and drags against you – it’s perfect. He’s perfect. You’re so close already.

He drags the hot palm of his free hand up your spine, settles between your shoulder blades, drags you forward, until he can press his face against your sternum, his hot breath ghosting over you, before he starts pressing kisses there, travelling from there to your collarbones, down the swell of your breasts. You loosen one of your hands from where they were digging into his shoulders to drag down the cup of your bra and Seungmin groans and immediately latches his mouth onto your nipple, lapping at it, sucking it into his mouth, making you sob out in pleasure. Nobody has ever made you feel this way before, and you have no idea if it’s because it’s him, or because you’re in love, or because your bodies are just that perfect for each other.

Your belly burns with pleasure, hot and tight with an orgasm that is building, but can’t be reached because your legs are trembling, and the stupid water makes it difficult to set any kind of faster rhythm, and the frustration makes tears build in your eyes until you can’t hold back the frustrated sob.

Seungmin’s head shoots up, and he stares at you worriedly for only a second, before he puts two and two together. Carefully, he lifts you up until his cock slips out of you, pecking your lips when you let out a pitiful whimper at the loss, and then he wraps an arm around your waist, supports himself on the back of the jacuzzi and hoists himself to his feet. You squeal, tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, cling to his shoulders, but he doesn’t stand for long, instead turns, places you down on your back on the decking of the jacuzzi, your ass sitting perfectly on the edge, before he all but crawls over you, his arms next to your head, his legs still in the water.

“Please, don’t cry … that just … that made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel,” he grumbles out, his pupils blown, eyebrows furrowed together like he can’t believe what he’s saying and God, you love him so much. You giggle, drag him closer until you can pull him into a filthy kiss, one he reciprocates immediately. You pull back, swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, watch in fascination as Seungmin’s mouth opens, his tongue darts out to lick at it.

You look at him with all the fake coyness you can muster.

“You don’t wanna make me cry on your cock?”

Seungmin groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he half-heartedly punches the decking next to you.

“Oh God, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, and your heart swells. You run your hand down his back, drag your nails over his skin until he shivers.

“You can’t die, we need to tell Jeongin we love him, still,” you giggle, completely, stupidly, desperately in love, and Seungmin laughs into the skin of your neck.

“God, I hope he loves us back,” he mumbles, before he pushes himself upright, his eyes still glued to you, but his whole body on display for you, and wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking himself. You don’t even know where to look.

“Me, too,” you breathe, watch as Seungmin runs a reverent hand down the side of your thigh, wraps your leg around his waist, leans in, lines up his cock and pushes back into you in one smooth movement. The moan you let out sounds like a sigh of relief.

“F-fuck,” he stutters out, “I’ll never get used to this.”

You only whimper in return, a sweet, pitiful sound that stokes more of that fucked up fire in the pit of Seungmin’s stomach. He always knew sleeping with you or Jeongin would rock his fucking world, nothing like high school girlfriends and ill-fated, casual club hookups that didn’t care to learn what he wanted. He always knew sleeping with someone he was in love with would be it for him – but nothing compares to the real thing. He’s obsessed. Utterly, and entirely fucking obsessed with the way you look like this, the way you wrap around his cock like you were made for him, the way you trust him so easily, let him take care of you, the way your features he knows so well helplessly fall into pleasure. It makes him feel drunk on bliss, his whole body burning, every sensation dialled up to 11. You blink at him, your eyes rolling back for a second when he fucks into you deep, and then you reach out; stretch out your hands, tug at his arm until he folds himself over you, and you drag him into a kiss that makes him groan into your mouth.

The kiss is sticky and hot and wet and messy and your legs are wrapped around his waist, hips rocking up to meet every one of his thrusts, and he knows he won’t last long. And it gets even harder to hold on when he fucks into you, bottoms out and grinds his cock in deeper and probably grinds over your clit because you tighten and gush around him so hot and constricting that it makes the world around you blur into the background, his mind, his body, everything, filled with you you you.

His hips work almost by themselves, something animalistic in the way he thrusts you into you, trying to go deeper, get closer. His nails dig into the wood of the deck, his other, shaky hand wrapping around your thigh, trying to hold you in place as he fucks you into you like a madman, spurred on by every moan, every gasp, every delirious little sound he manages to pull out of you.

He’s hurtling towards his orgasm so fast he can barely catch his breath and warn you, slurring something half-conscious into your lips that makes your hands fly to his ass, angle him to grind into you just right, and he’s rewarded with a quiver of your walls around him that punches the breath out of him.

He fucks into you, chasing his high, your high, moans tumbling freely from his mouth right into yours, slick lips sliding over slick lips, hot breath colliding until you squirm, grind into him just as he grinds into you, and then you’re coming, right underneath him. Your back arches, your breath catches in your throat, and you sob out in pleasure, your cunt clenching around him so tightly he can barely move, but it’s enough to send him hurtling over the edge as well. He pulls back, not too far because he feels like he might die if he does, but just enough so he can slip his cock out of you and fist himself desperately until his toes curl and his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he spills, hot and heavy, all over your belly.

When he’s spent, he collapses into your arms. It only takes a few seconds before post-nut clarity hits him like a truck; suddenly, he can feel the ache in his thighs and the pruning of his fingers, remembers where you are when the music from the frat house slowly filters into his consciousness. Before he can freak out, he buries his face in your neck, forces himself to take a few deep breaths, lets the realisation that he can touch you like this now, without hesitating, without overthinking it, soothe him. You’re his. Nothing can hurt him now. You run soft fingertips down his spine. If this is aftercare, he realizes now, it’s what he has always needed.

Slowly, gently, he pulls back, until he can see your face. Sleepy, lax with pleasure, make up smudged and a small smile on your face. Gorgeous. He has to force himself to look away. To turn, to fish his soaked boxers out of the jacuzzi, using them to wipe gingerly between your legs, wipe his sticky cum off your abdomen.

You’re quiet, until you’re not, and your words make him freeze.

“Why did you pull out? Do you hate me?”

Seungmin blinks at you, the shock and disbelief on his face so serious it makes your poker face slip immediately, and you dissolve into giggles. You feel like you’re floating, booze and weed and the hormones from your orgasm making you feel like you’re barely there.

“Just kidding, thanks for not getting me pregnant,” you sigh, when your giggles have calmed down, and Seungmin huffs and rolls his eyes, but it’s different this time. He doesn’t turn away, instead dips in to press a quick kiss to your lips, less as a response to what you said, more to reassure himself that this is real because the way his heart is aching with affection for you and how needy he’s suddenly feeling is threatening to make him freak out.

Your lips are still hot and swollen and pliant, but the kiss itself is softer now. A lazy, loving dance of tongues, your fingers tracing the shape of his jaw, threading through the hair on the side of his head. He shivers, and not because of the cold night air.

When you pull back, you’re smiling. Seungmin’s heart seizes. “We’ll talk to Jeongin,” he says, watches as your eyes soften even further, a devastating little sigh drips past your lips. You nod.

“After his game?” you ask, sadly. You don’t need to say anything else. Seungmin understands. But it doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t ache at the thought of having to resist making every one of his dreams a reality and having to keep something from Jeongin for two whole weeks. But he knows you’re right. You can’t risk it. There’s too much riding on Jeongin’s game.

“After his game,” he agrees.

You kiss him again, sweet and quick, then deeper until his mind is fuzzy, but then something shatters in the house and there’s yelling and Seungmin once again realizes that you’re both naked in the frat house yard with half the college just a few yards away. He gets up, stretches his hand out for you to take, and pulls you to your feet.

“Let’s go home, yeah? Before someone realizes we just fucked in their jacuzzi.”

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[atopvisenyashill]

why do you think jonsa is happening tho? jonerys is different bc they are going to be enemies, but i don’t see what jonsa does for the story

so let me first lay out roughly what i think is going to happen should jonsa become canon. I personally love going down meta and graphic spirals, so I'm including links to other people’s theories/explanations/graphics of events too - also I would like to shout out @istumpysk because half these metas and gifsets were stuff I found on their blog initially, and also was the one who really convinced me that jonsa is less of a crackship and more of a contender for an actual canon theory, and from there i really found my niche in this fandom. specifically this meta about jon being the mummer's dragon is what pulled me out of my "we're never getting twow and if we do it's just gonna be that stupid dany has jon's magical baby while tyrion watches, then they all die theory" slump and lit my brain on fire again. let's goooo:

The Ashford Tourney Theory - Something Shady goes down at the tourney Petyr has planned that requires Sansa to make a quick getaway, and likely causes her to run into Brienne while fleeing. This theory for me is about hinting at Sansa's romantic future, allies, and how she's getting the hell out of the Vale: both the dark haired, Not Targ Looking Targ Prince that is the son of A Great Prince That Never Was being her romantic endgame but also it's about Brienne (/Dunk) getting her the hell out of there and becoming Sansa's number one ally and protector (with Sansa's number two being Bronze Yohn!! But he's not fleeing with her - if he helps her get out of the Vale, it'll be to cause a distraction or a fight so Sansa can slip away unnoticed. Bronze Yohn is coming with the knights of the Vale later to help defend his girl!).

The Girl In Grey - Out of options on where to go, Sansa & Brienne makes a long, fast, and dangerous trek to the only family she knows is still alive: Jon Snow at the Wall. No, I don't think Alys Karstark is the girl in grey on a dying horse; I think she's a red herring, the same as the scene where Sweetrobin destroys the snow castle, and that the real girl in grey (who slays the savage giant) is Sansa. Melisandre says that she sees "Jon's sister" but doesn't specify more than that, or how she knows it's Jon's sister, even - why would she assume Alys is Jon's sister and not some random Northern girl? Why was she so sure that it was his sister? It's because Alys isn't the girl in grey, it's Sansa, her horse dying because she's traveled halfway across the continent with Brienne and Pod, desperately trying to keep ahead of the dozens of people hunting her down.

The Blood of Winterfell - Sansa and Jon will reclaim winterfell together. This one is similar to above; just like Alys was a red herring, the scene where Sansa rebuilds the castle has a lot of foreshadowing (imo) but that isn't the moment in the prophecy Arya hears. The Savage Giant is Littlefinger, the castle of snow is Winterfell, and Sansa is going to liberate her home alongside Jon and what's left of the Northern lords.

Stone and Snow Remains - THIS is where Sansa and Jon will fall in love while fighting for the North. This is also the part where you lose a lot of people, because they think the evidence is real weak sauce but like, I also think the Jonerys "evidence" is weak af too (and no wonder, we have at minimum 2k pages left to get through!!). There's several believed foreshadowing points to this one, bare with me for this weird ass formatting because I can't do sub bullet points on tumblr:

1. Sansa's linking of snow with love and affection - "drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks...She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams." along with her snow maiden and snow knight.

2. Bael the Bard and the Rose of Winterfell - the chapter where Sansa gets her period for the first time, Cersei refers to it as “flowering” a dozen times, linking being a maiden (a young girl, not quite of age or just barely of age) to flowers and several people refer to sex as ~plucking. Also notice the one who stole her from KL is Lord BAELish.

3. Aemon the Dragonknight & Queen Naerys - Sansa compares herself to Naerys, Joffrey to Aegon, and wishes for an Aemon, among the many similarities between her life and Naerys'. Jon not only calls himself Aemon, he has a deep connection with a different Aemon Targaryen. And if you’re thinking “Sansa isn’t Naerys, X is Naerys” I would remind you that Sansa as a character existed first, George purposefully had her compare herself to Naerys, and parallels don't belong to just one character.

4. Jenny of Oldstones and The Prince of Dragonflies - there's honestly a lot of parallels between them but like the Aemon/Naerys parallel, the Jenny/Duncan one stands out to me.

5. Janos Slynt - I mean. Iconic. This was the scene that made me first think about what their relationship could be in the future and there’s a reason Jonsas fixate on it. It’s about Sansa being desperate for a hero and the hero she dreamed about being Jon the whole time. 6. Societal Alienation - There's the bastard parallels here, the "it would be so sweet to see him again", the "Winterfell belongs to my sister, Sansa." It's about how Jon, through circumstances of his birth, finds himself alienated from the rest of society and reconnects with his prim and proper sister Sansa, who finds herself alienated from the rest of society as well but for vastly different reasons.

Robb’s Will - Howland is going to show up in the North, along with Maege and Galbert, with some WILD news about why Jon can’t rule Winterfell. There’s a lot of contention around this. Bran probably shows up around this time too, and Arya gets to the Riverlands to discover Lady Stoneheart and give her the gift of mercy. This is where all the inheritance stuff is going to happen and I have no idea how it's going to go down besides it's going to be messy as all fuck.

The Pact Of Ice And Fire - Jon & Sansa get secret married bc they’re in love, not siblings, & jon is the only man she trusts not to steal her claim. This isn't the only possible foreshadowing instance of a marriage either - some believe the Sandor/Sansa scene during the Battle of the Blackwater is foreshadowing as well (personally I feel that's a bit of a stretch but I wanted to include it anyway).

Jon As An Envoy - I talked about this in my "what's Jon's ending" a little but I believe Jon will act as an envoy for either Sansa or Bran to Aegon VI, essentially playing out a similar story that he does in the show with Daenerys. By which I mean, Jon is not the King because the ruler themselves do not go as an envoy, that’s stupid and dangerous, but he goes as an ambassador for Sansa or Bran, to treat with a new claimant to the Iron Throne that is gaining support - Aegon VI & Jon Connington. They will probably clash, Jon will probably have yet another identity crisis, there had BETTER be gay incest subtext, then Aegon dies, and Jon has his sixth quarter life crisis in a row.

“King” of the Gift - again, something I touched on in my Jon meta is that I think he’s going to have a hand in resettling the Gift. Personally, I think it's likely that Jon leaves to protect the claims of his siblings (see: Duncan and Jenny) and goes to the Gift to help resettle it to keep out of the way. This ending is typically referred to as the "bael the bard" ending but i like to think of it as the "brandon's gift" ending instead - though he is not physically with his family, Jon feels fulfilled having confirmed his family loves him through reclaiming Winterfell and marrying Sansa, being reunited with Arya, and being given the Gift by Bran. Sansa claims her children were fathered by a wolf.

So…what does all this do for the story?

Well, in my opinion, several things.

I think the main barrier here is that most people in the greater fandom describe Sansa's story as ~growing past childish wants~ and Jon's as ~rejecting love~ and I do not agree with either of those takes even a little bit. This is where (imo) the dividing line between Jonsas and the rest of the fandom is. I don’t think the answer to Sansa’s question “will anyone ever marry me for love” is going to be “nah" - that's not just a sad story to me (wanting to be married isn't childish! craving intimacy and understanding isn't childish! it's also not wrong for a child to be childish!), I think the idea that Sansa (or Jon) will not find another love just doesn't line up with how George approaches his story. Who Sansa's husband will be has been such a big question, and her story is so heavy into the more romantic tropes like courtly love and chivalry and the line between politics and love and identity, that the question of Sansa's hand in marriage will be plot relevant. I also think it's kinda naive of people to pretend like George isn't very interested in the sexual dynamics of the characters he writes about (yeah, sure, no woman needs a man but "needing a man" is not what this is about. look at everything this man wrote in F&B and tell me he is going to write a female character that longs for sex and desire and doesn't get it!).

After AGOT, nearly every time Sansa thinks about marriage involves her longing for love but believing she will never get it because a man will only ever love her for her claim. Giving her a man - like Jon - who not only will not steal her claim and in fact has defended it twice over already, who will love her for who she is and not what she can give him, is a really important aspect of her story in my opinion.

As for Jon, I am even more firmly against the opinion that his story is about rejecting love; Jon’s story is about wanting to be a good man, to measure up to his father ~despite~ his bastard blood. When Aemon asks if Ned would choose honor over love and Jon stubbornly says yes, Jon is wrong and it’s important to not forget that. Ned has never once in his entire life chosen honor over love; he chooses his daughter’s life over his honor, he chooses his sister & her son’s life over honor, he chooses Arya & Nymeria over honor, and on and on!!! Ned chooses love at almost turn but none of his children know that just yet - look at Robb choosing Jeyne’s honor over his own and how upset he is at the idea that Ned would be disappointed despite the fact that Ned would have understand Robb’s decision! Jon's whole arc is tied up in realizing that it is not wrong or dirty to feel and choose love, passion, and desire and if he never has another romantic arc again, I think you lose the second part of that lesson which is "you are responsible for how you act when you feel love but that doesn't mean that simply choosing love makes you a bad person."

There's also the fact that George has talked a lot about "who lives, who dies, who gets married" and yet we have not one marriage at the end of the show AND there's not a lot of guesses at what "who gets married" means besides Jon/erys (and even if Jonsa doesn't happen, I simply do not see Jon/erys happening. they are not similar enough, they will not be in the same space for long enough, and they are on wildlly different trajectories for their story, they are not getting married let alone having sex). I think Jonsa fits that bill very well.

These various theories - from Sansa being queen, Jon living in exile, The Ashford Tourney Theory, the secret marriage, every one of them - are ideas and themes that I have really been thinking about for about 12 years now. I think Jon and Sansa's relationship could fit with the themes in their stories, the overarching themes in the books, and my own personal opinions. I think it gives George a great opportunity to delve into the courtly love aspects he enjoys so much, as well as delve into inheritance, legacy, legitimacy, honor, incest (yes, that too), and above all, what George himself has said the whole series is about - love. The human heart in conflict with itself is what I think Jon and Sansa as a romantic couple does for the series.

[birdversary]

What is Tanabemas?

Tanabemas is a Christmas event for fans of Yellow Tanabe’s works, including Kekkaishi, Laughter at the World’s End, BIRDMEN, and Kai-Hen Wizards!

Participants will post a wishlist containing prompts for fanworks they would like to receive. During the holiday season, everyone will receive at least 1 thing on their wishlist, courtesy of the moderators! Gifts can be drawings, fics, moodboards, playlists, gifsets, or anything else your gifter can think of.

You do not need to create gifts for anyone to receive something, but if you would like to participate in gifting, all wishlists will be available for public viewing. Happy gifting!

Important Dates

Wishlist submissions will be open from October 18th, 2024 to December 6th, 2024. While you will still be able to edit your wishlist after that, gifts may not reflect changes made after November 15th.

Gift posting will begin on December 20th, 2024, and run until January 10th, 2025. Feel free to post any gifts in this time period. The tag for this event is #tanabemas2024.

If you do not share a social media website with your giftee, you may contact the moderators, who will share your gift with your giftee.

Writing Your Wishlist

Please format your wishlist like so:

Name: Your name

Gift Address: Social media accounts where you are accepting gifts

Wishlist: 

(Fandom) Specifics about your wish

(Fandom) Specifics about your wish

…and so on.

Do Not Want: Things you do not want to receive, such as blood, gore, suggestive art, etc.

Additional: Additional information that may help your gifter make you the perfect gift

Please include at least 3 wishes (at least 5 recommended, but the more the merrier), but feel free to be as vague or as specific as you like.

An example of a wishlist can be found on the Padlet where wishes are posted.

What can I wish for?

You can wish for anything! I want this to be an event where you receive fanworks you have always wanted.

That being said, if your wish makes gifters uncomfortable, you may not receive a gift of that prompt. Please don’t be too disappointed. 

NSFW will be allowed in this event, but please make sure at least 3 of your wishes are SFW. If you are a minor, please do not request or fulfill NSFW wishes.

You may wish for original fan characters or specific AUs, but please provide visual or written references if applicable. 

Posting Your Wishlist

Post your wishlist on this Padlet: https://padlet.com/karaeishi/tanabemas-wishlists-2tg12ibinnn1vyjj

You can create your own post by clicking the “+” button at the bottom right corner.

You do not need to create a Padlet account to make a post. You can also come back to this link at any time to edit or add to your wishlist by clicking on your post. Please refrain from editing the wishlists of other people.

Frequently Asked Questions

Do I have to keep my gift a secret from my giftee?

Not at all. This is not a Secret Santa event, merely a Santa event. If you would like to reach out to your giftee to make sure they are okay with aspects of your gift, go ahead! If you want to post your works in progress, feel free to do that as well. I just ask that you finish any works in progress you post.

Can my requests all be from 1 fandom?

Yes, of course. This was originally a BIRDMEN event, but I wanted to include the long-neglected Kekkaishi fans, and the new Kaihen fans as well, so it was broadened to include all of these series. But I know many people are only in one or two of these fandoms. There will be someone to fulfill your wishes even if you only request from one fandom.

What if someone else has already fulfilled the wish I want to fulfill?

That’s okay! Then your giftee will receive two gifts! How wonderful!

I’m going to be too busy to make any gifts this year. Are you sure it’s okay to wish for things, even if I won’t be able to give anything in return?

YES! I want you to get a little gift just for existing! It would be cool if other people participated in gifting as well but I have zero expectations for anyone else to do so! I just want to do this!!

What if my head is empty and I don't have any wishes? Can I still make gifts?

ALSO YES! Sometimes there is just nothing in particular you want but you still want to gift things. That is okay too!! You are important to the ecosystem as well!!

Moderated by: Soh (Tumblr: @birdmenmanga, X: @arsquare3) and Kitsoa (Tumblr: @kitsoa)

Any additional questions can be sent to our askbox!

[olderthannetfic]

Most of my dash is people moving to cohost or mastodon or bluesky over the photomatt thing and posting goodbyes. I don’t know if *tumblr* is dying, but the specific community I love here appears to be leaving. This isn’t my first time seeing a social media community crumble, but I feel particularly adrift rn, especially with the collapse of the NaNoWriMo forums, which were my main social platform for years and years.

Any advice as to how I can find a new social platform that fits me? Ideally it would be a space that supports longform text and back-and-forths in the comments.

--

The key thing to realize is that lots of platforms we loved in the past had absolutely garbage features—at least at the point when we set up camp there. Both LJ and Tumblr had features that were absolute ass and then somewhat improved before tanking again in various ways. The next hot platform will also suck, just like the last 10.

If you want longform text and discussion, start by posting longform text and responding to anything even remotely response-worthy that anyone sends you.

Granted, twitter clones directly prevent longform text, but a lot of the time, the main sticking point is culture. Everyone told me that Tumblr wasn't good for longform text, that it violates social norms to post it without a readmore, etc. Years of How To Tumblr posts discouraged this behavior. Tumblr haters pining for LJ still constantly tell me that discussion is impossible here due to the lack of threaded comments...

To that, I say it's only impossible for cowards who aren't willing to fill people's dashboards with 37 of the same post and all its chatty reblogs on the same day.

Cowards, I tell you!

Who says I can't post 90% text-only and a million long-ass posts to the gifset-and-no-commentary website?

--

The actual features are only marginally important. Social conventions like linking to the ask you're referencing or snipping irrelevant stuff from the prior e-mail chain can take care of most feature issues.

The important part is either following a community or making the community come to you. Being consistently active is a huge part of it. If you're publicly findable and friendly, people will come hang out where you are or invite you places. It can take a while to get visible enough, but it does work. It's a matter of having the energy and time to invest.

Another key is to recognize that a lot of people feel adrift. If your blog/forum/discord server is the logical place for them to collect, they will do so. They have to know it exists and they have to find it welcoming, but that's all it really takes to collect up people who are feeling lonely and unmoored.

[hotvintagepoll]

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS tournament! We are now finished with the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament; The Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament is ongoing. Submissions for hot vintage women are now closed, but we are accepting propaganda for those already in the bracket. If you are here for the Dracula Daily polls, those will be posted regularly following the progress of the Substack newsletters.

The finals of the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be posted just after midnight on Sunday, June 2nd, and last 24 hours. All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, the Dracula Daily polls, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be tagged with the hottie in it if you need to search for someone in particular.

FAQs:

“Where is [my favorite hot woman]?” It depends. Have you checked all the polls in the tag? Have you done a tag search for her? If you still haven’t found her, either nobody submitted her or she did not fit the criteria of being a movie woman from 1910-1970.

“Can I still submit hot women?” No, the submission window has closed. Please do not send in women you wish had made it into the bracket. I can’t do anything with those asks and they just make me sad.

“I have additional propaganda for the hot women!” Great! Send me an ask or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. You can also tag me in posts (this is the best way to submit gifsets or fancams). I don’t boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.

If you’re submitting propaganda for your hot woman, I don’t accept propaganda that’s from beyond the end of this tournament’s era (ie don’t send me pics of them from before 1910 or after 1970). I also don’t accept propaganda of TV appearances unless it’s clearly a cameo where they’re playing themselves. Please break long asks full of photos up into a few short ones so I don't clog everyone's dashes. I watch every video I receive to tag for trigger warnings, so please don't send me super long videos.

I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about any hot woman. If you really hate that a certain hot woman is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hottie shouldn’t even be included in the tournament because of things they did in their lifetime, please read my take on it here.

If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot woman’s stances, problems, or misdemeanors, that’s fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked.

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t submit my own propaganda, and I don’t change what’s submitted beyond fixing obvious spelling mistakes. If you hate a poll bio or a pic, let me know and send me something I can use instead.

"Where are the hot men?" Most of them are in the shadow realm! Toshiro Mifune was crowned the winner of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament, and the rest were banished where the sun never comes. You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!), or you can do a tag search to find out what happened to a specific hot man.

"Tell me more about this shadow realm?" There is too much lore. Send me an ask about this.

"What's up with the vents?" There is too much lore. Send me an ask about this.

"Why are you always talking about James Cagney?" Bing Crosby took him out in Round 1 and I've never forgiven him.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.

If you want to search through the different rounds of the tournaments, or see the schedule for future tournaments, I'm including links under the cut.

Relevant tags:

First round of the hot men—#round 1 archive, #round 1 blog

Second round of the hot men—#round 2 archive, #round 2 blog

Third round of the hot men—#round 3 archive, #round 3 blog

Fourth round of the hot men—#round 4 archive, #round 4 blog

Quarterfinals of the hot men—#round 5 archive, #round 5 blog

Semifinals—#TWO KINGS archive, #TWO KINGS blog

Finals—#hot men finals

First round of the hot women—#ladies 1 archive, ladies 1 blog

Second round of the hot women—#ladies 2 archive, #ladies 2 blog

Third round of the hot women—#ladies 3 archive, #ladies 3 blog

Fourth round of the hot women—#ladies 4 archive, #ladies 4 blog

Dracula polls: #dracula daily

Fifth round of the hot women—#ladies 5 archive, #ladies 5 blog

Other featured tags: #housekeeping (organization updates), #family lore (personal anecdotes in asks relating to the hotties or stories about sharing this poll with family members), #hollywood creatures (pets named after old movie stars), and #silly times (what it says on the tin).

Tournament schedule (may still change or adjust):

Hot & Vintage Movie Man Tournament (completed)

Hot & Vintage Movie Woman Tournament (ongoing)

Dracula Daily movie cast polls (ongoing)

Ultimate Hottie Tournament (top brackets of the hot men & hot women competing together)

Scrungly Little Guys tournament (gender neutral)

TBD: Horror Hotties (Frankensteins, Draculas, Brides, etc.)

TBD: Dandy Detectives (Marples, Sherlocks, Nancy Drews, etc.)

fun mini polls that pits sets of characters from the same movie together, like the Philadelphia Story or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers ones (these can be found in the #minis tag)

[scoobydoodean]

I feel like you’re one of the few people I’d trust to ask this of, but I always find myself wondering at the different reactions Dean has to hunting, i.e: Sam and others. Like I don’t think at all that he forced Sam back or was dragging him around or anything like that. But even way back then with Jo he was always like “get away from this life”. And still, especially early on, he seemed to be offended/angry that Sam didn’t like the life/want it for himself. I always personally understood it as a mix of sibling bickering like “ohh you think you’re so much better”, a front so as to pretend “hey everything is fine don’t look too closely” and Sam himself kinda conflating hunting = family and thus had to cut both out to be free of it, so in turn Dean also associated Sam walking away from hunting as walking away from family (reinforced by Heaven and Purgatory, later on, in slightly different ways) (although which came first and/or how much that was influenced by John first is ultimately a chicken and egg situation, I suppose). But I’d like to know if you have thoughts on this? Sorry for the long ask, I hope it was coherent?

NOTE: For anyone looking for commentary on Dean absolutely not forcing Sam back into hunting, my tags #sam the hunter, #sam the family man, and #in which... I am too lazy to write all that out may be of use.

So if I understand correctly, what we're getting at here is that Dean pretty consistently tries to talk people (especially younger people) out of the life or objects to involving them. For example, Jo (2.06), Adam (4.19), Jimmy (4.20), Krissy and her dad (7.11), Krissy's friends (8.18), Claire (10.20). He tries to protect Jesse and Cesar's retirement. But when it comes to Sam, Dean isn't so into trying to talk him out of the life.

To discuss the premise itself first, I can think of the following instances where Dean is hurt, skeptical, or displays some other sort of objection to Sam vs normal life: 1.01, 1.16, 4.22, 5.16, 8.01 (Pine's rewatch notes help me out here too). On the other hand, I can also think of many moments where Dean is supportive of Sam having a normal life or wishes that for him. Starting from 1.06 and 1.18, Dean says that he wishes Sam could just be normal. By 1.07, Dean is suggesting they just stay in the college town representing Sam's wistful desire for normality. I have a compilation gifset of these and a few other season 1 moments here. In 2.20, Dean beams with happiness that Sam is living a normal life and has Jess by his side—this is also despite the fact that he and Sam are estranged in the Djinn dream universe. In season 8, while Dean is hurt and angry that Sam left him to die and abandoned Kevin, when the opportunity presents itself for Sam to get back together with Amelia in 8.10 and go be normal, Dean tells Sam he should go to her if that's what would make him happy. In 8.14, Dean says he wants to do The Trials so that Sam can survive and go be normal. Basically what I'm getting at is that while moments occur where Dean seems hurt by Sam wanting a normal life or has some other objection, there are more moments where the exact opposite is true. This contrast also opens the door for questions about why Dean sometimes reacts negatively and sometimes doesn't (or maybe has to "come around" to the idea). The mixed bag suggests a lot of different and sometimes conflicting emotions, which is very realistic I think.

I don't think every single one of these reasons factors into every single one of the five episodes I mentioned where Dean seems hurt/skeptical about Sam + normal life, but here we go:

First, while Dean tries to push a lot of people out of the life and is also shown to crave a normal life for himself at various points (ex: 2.20, 3.10, 5.17), he does believe that being involved with the supernatural world is physically unavoidable for some people, and that it psychologically gets its hooks into others to the point they eventually can't get out/turn back (ex: 4.19). Jack, Jesse, and Kevin (and Sam and Dean themselves eventually) are examples of people Sam and Dean see as stuck in the life practically, because demons and angels are after them for reasons out of all of their control. However, Sam and Dean were both psychologically stuck in hunting first. For Dean, the house fire and how he was raised leave him feeling stuck in the hunting world. Sam doesn't remember the fire, but follows on John's heels when Jess dies in the same manner that Mary did. The trauma of losing Jess creates a commonality and drive that wasn't present before, causing Sam to say that he and his father aren't different anymore—in fact, they have more in common than just about anyone (1.20). On many occasions, Sam also talks about hunting as an inevitability/something he can't "come back" from at this point even if he wanted to (ex: 2.10, 4.19, 4.21). Closely interrelated, at various points, Sam also says that hunting has become a life he loves and/or prefers to normality (ex: 2.02, 2.20, 4.08, 4.17, 5.12a, 5.12b, 5.12c, 10.18).

Dean's language in 1.01 "Sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are" suggests part of Dean sees Sam as a hunter at the core from the beginning who is hiding from who he really is deep down. I think there is some truth to this (see my #sam the hunter tag). In that scene in 1.01, Dean generally expresses skepticism that Sam is really capable of leading the life he's trying to live long term. I think Dean also has reason to think that way, given that Sam outright admits he plans to lie to Jess forever... which kind of means Sam stays in the hunter mindset (where you lie to normal people every day to keep up appearances) and never really gets to be himself either way. Dean doesn't think this is practical or healthy and says so (and he's not wrong). All this to say—I think in 1.01, Dean has difficulty understanding that Sam has not (quite yet) fallen into the hunting world. Dean and John are kind of bonded by the shared trauma of losing Mary, but Sam doesn't share that trauma (as Sam himself points out on the bridge, saying he doesn't even remember Mary). Of course, that changes by the end of the episode. 8.01, Dean is just "?!?!?!?!?" because Sam has told Dean point blank on multiple occasions at that point that he prefers hunting to being normal (2.20, 4.08, 5.12) and has been overall rather into hunting, and has voiced the same thinking as Dean in regards to not being able to get out psychologically even if he wanted to (4.19, 5.12). There's a reason that when Sam says he doesn't hunt anymore in 8.01, Dean thinks he's joking at first. (I talk about why Sam left hunting between seasons 7 and 8 here). The thing is is that (unless driven by a burning desire for revenge as in the season 3-4 gap and the season 9-10 gap) Sam will not hunt without Dean. Not because Dean "makes" him hunt, but because Sam doesn't have the heart for the work without Dean by his side. (See the "I can't do it without my brother" 10.18 speech).

SAM: You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself… one last job, you know? One more job. And then when – when I, um…. When I lost Jess, I, again, told myself one more job. There’s always one more job, you know? And one more job, and one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and – and to my life. CHARLIE: You were the Dread Pirate Roberts of hunting. SAM: Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t….

Interrelated to the concept of hunting as inescapable and as something Sam voices his enjoyment of multiple times—in 1.01, Dean also (though part bravado) still romanticizes hunting to an extent (though not for much longer—we see this by the time he meets Jo). This definitely factors into how Dean approaches the subject in 1.01, though I don't think it factors into later moments.

Second, Dean is the heart character, and as the heart character, he feels a responsibility to protect people. When he tells Sam in the pilot "You have a responsibility", I think what Dean means is "saving people, hunting things, the family business". It isn't revenge that they have a responsibility toward (Dean will be the one to say he hopes they never find the demon if it means Sam or John killing themselves to end it (1.22) but that from Dean's perspective, Dean's knowledge of what's out there and his proficiency at the job gives him a moral obligation to try and save people in harms way. On the other hand, I don't think Sam feels this way—at least not nearly so strongly. Sam's approach to hunting has always been more family focused imo. Both brothers hunt as a means of coping to an extent, but more largely, Dean hunts because he feels deeply for others and wants—and even feels a duty to—protect people. Sam hunts because hunting makes him feel close to his family and makes him feel known, and because it is where he feels he can be himself (ex: 4.17). More succinctly—for Dean, the order goes, "Saving people, hunting things, the family business" and for Sam, the order goes, "The family business, saving people, hunting things" I think. This difference in motivations occasionally creates interesting tension on the hunt, but it is also creates confusion when Sam has left hunting pre-series, and again in season 8.

SAM: Look, it wasn't like I was... just oblivious. I mean, I read the paper every day. I saw the weird stories… the kind of stuff we used to chase. DEAN: And you said what? "Not my problem"? SAM: Yes. And you know what? The world went on.

8.01 "We Need To Talk About Kevin"

Dean doesn't understand this. He can't wrap his head around it because Dean doesn't think this way, and I'm not sure Dean ever gets exactly why Sam is driven to hunt. He doesn't really get the strength of the family connection for Sam... and Dean has reason not to, because from the outside looking in, Sam cutting Dean out of his life every time he decides he doesn't want to hunt anymore sounds like he doesn't actually care about Dean that much deep down... or at all. So how on earth could Sam's interest in and love for hunting be connected to caring about his brother DEAN???

That brings me to the third reason for some of this occasional hurt from Dean, which is that you're right about Sam (and then Dean in turn) associating normal life with cutting Dean off, because that's what Sam does. Any time Sam goes after a normal life, there seems to be no room for contact with Dean in it. When Sam goes to school, even though his fight was with John, it's implied that he wouldn't take Dean's calls which is why Dean showed up in person (1.01).

NOTE: This period is a little tricky, because the script was supposed to say they hadn't spoken since Sam left at 18, but what accidentally made it into the show is that they may have been in contact for the first two years. The two years wouldn't make things much better though, because with Dean's dialogue "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." It still seems like Sam is the one who cut ties.

In 1.16 "Shadow", when Dean brings up wanting to stay together and "be a family again" even after the business with the demon is concluded, Sam makes it clear he's returning to school—which is perfectly fine. However, buried within this conversation is the implication that Dean doesn't want to lose contact with Sam again, and Sam doesn't give any assurances about calling or staying in contact because... he plans to cut Dean off again, even while telling Dean he loves him.

"Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. [...] I don’t want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way."

Dean looks at this and goes "?????" because how can Sam talk about how much he cares for Dean and then in the same breath, essentially say he doesn't want to see him anymore after this? That makes no sense... right? And the self-hating part of Dean who believes Meg's manipulative framing in 1.16 about him dragging Sam everywhere even though Sam has repeatedly been the race horse raring for revenge and getting angry when Dean can't pull leads on John or the demon out of his ass thinks maybe he IS somehow responsible for every horrible thing that has happened to Sam and how Sam's life is now. And Dean's insecurities are reinforced too because Sam has thrown it in his face that it's his fault in moments where he was angry and felt a loss of control. So Dean doesn't understand how hunting is actually positively connected to family and him for Sam, and Sam doesn't understand how Dean doesn't understand and doesn't know how to reassure him (5.16), and that's how we get Dean unloading his insecurities about Sam not loving him in 4.22 (to Bobby) and 5.16 (to Sam). In both discussions, Dean's lack of belief in Sam's care for him is closely connected to Sam's desire for normality and how Dean felt tossed away like garbage and like his efforts were never enough. I talk about the dialogue in 4.22 more in depth here (added context of Sam calling Dean weak for his trauma and strangling Dean near unconscious matters lmao). In 5.16, Zachariah (imo) repeatedly pushes the brothers toward Sam's memories of normality and being away from Dean as part of his psychological ploy, and it works even though Sam's strongly stated lack of interest in normality is (arguably) at its zenith (4.08, 4.19, 5.12) because the brothers relationship is so weak from season 4. If we didn't already get it, we as viewers realize Sam loves his brother very much and has many happy memories with him despite appearances in 5.22 when happy memories with Dean are what pulls Sam from Lucifer's control.

Another important episode here in regards to Dean’s perceptions of Sam's feelings versus how Sam actually sees Dean is 2.20 "What Is And What Should Never Be". There's a variety of things to be said about how in Dean's dream, he envisions himself as someone his family would look down upon even in a paradise scenario. However, one of the bits we get from the whole dream is that Dean believes that in normal life scenario, Sam wouldn't want to be around him. Dean envisions himself as kind of a terrible person (and as usual, he is being really ugly about himself in a way that isn't at all warranted), but undoubtably, there's also a classist stench to the scenario—Dean the blue collar worker, Sam the hot shot lawyer who looks down his nose at Dean. I don't doubt that deep down, Dean kind of believes the real Sam sees himself as upwardly mobile and Dean as beneath him. One of the ways Dean potentially forms that conclusion is how Sam treats him over money early in the series. That said, the REAL Sam is surprised by their lack of connection in Dean's "paradise". When Dean suggests that without hunting, they never would have connected, Sam makes it clear that he's glad they have.

But yeah! Those scenes in 4.22 and 5.16 aren't even about Sam wanting to be normal—they're about how Dean feels discarded every time Sam goes after normal (and it happens again in 8.01).

Lastly, Dean's also dealing with jealousy in a couple of these moments. Before we ever met him, Dean had his own wistful desires for normal (9.07, 1.06, 1.13). Safety and a home and normality were things he felt he couldn't ever really have (this also comes post-breakup with Cassie). Even in 8.10, when Dean tells Sam to get back with Amelia if he can, he adds,

And, you know, maybe I'm a little bit jealous. I could never separate myself from the job like you could.

I think this line leads directly back to Dean as the heart character who has extreme difficulty with the concept of burying his head in the sand—something Sam was able to do easily (like... too easily RE: Kevin). I think Dean kind of judges Sam for doing that, but at the same time, Dean also knows he has an overactive sense of responsibility—he just can't shake it despite knowing that (2.20, 5.11, 7.04). So he envies that Sam can even if he thinks Sam leans too far the other direction sometimes.

I also don't think this bit from Shifter!Dean in 1.06 was too off:

You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you? [...] See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.

I think coupled with that jealousy in 1.01, we also see Dean's resentment, because he sacrificed everything for their family. He sacrificed his childhood to take care of his father who was a mess, and play mother and father to his brother, and he had a gun in his hand meant to kill before he was even 10, and Dean resents all of this. Dean was made to be the responsible one when he was just a child out of necessity, and John (someone Dean repeatedly calls a deadbeat in season 5) took advantage and then discarded him (a part of Dean does know he deserves better), and Sam cut Dean out of his life the moment he was no longer of use. It isn't just that Sam doesn't feel the weight of the burdens Dean was made to shoulder—Sam doesn't even seem to realize they exist, and Dean is resentful. He wants someone in his family besides him to shoulder some of the family responsibilities Dean has spent so long carrying alone. His feelings are misdirected toward Sam in 1.01 in that regard, but they're also very human.

Even so, Dean's love supersedes jealousy and resentment. We see this clearly in 1.18 "Something Wicked", which is all about Dean's childhood being stolen and him being burdened with responsibilities that were too big and blamed for people dying when he was just a child and it wasn't his fault, but at the end of the episode, Dean doesn't wish innocence for himself—he wishes it for Sam. Even though the episode is all about Dean's memory of his own trauma. And in 2.20, in his "paradise" dream, Sam gets to be normal, and he and Sam don't even get along, and Dean doesn't care—he's just over the moon that his brother gets to live a normal life.

[deepdisireslonging]

Necklace

The Reader is drenched in a sudden downpour. She has to borrow some dry clothes. Ricky likes seeing her in his things, and makes sure she know it in the most intimate way possible.

Pairing: Ricky Starks x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, boss/underling dynamic (consensual), oral (female receiving), P-in-V, Ricky’s hand as a necklace/light choking, cream pie

Word Count: 3330

Note: Holy shit, this is filth. Can you tell I miss seeing this man on my screen on Dynamite and the like? Also, I used to work at a place that sold those snap-sided joggers. They were murder to keep on the hanger, and probably annoying in practice. But in theory... inspirational.

Bonus: the gifset that inspired this fic

There’s nothing like getting caught in a New Orleans humidity shower. The weatherman can warn all he likes. They’re always sudden. They come out of nowhere. And you are guaranteed to be soaked in seconds.

Which was why Ricky laughed in your face when he finally answered his door.

“Sorry about that.” He stepped to one side so you could drip your way into his house. “I was on the back porch when you rang and—”

“Mhmm. Sure.” You playfully shot him a glare. There was a bucket by his door for such occasions. You rung out your shirt into it. Even having been in the deluge, you were still surprised how much water came out of the fabric.

“Strip.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Ricky laughed and stepped back. “You’re soaked through. Leave your clothes here. I’ll be back in a minute with a towel and some of my things.” He quickly kissed your cheek on his way out.

To his credit, he didn’t peek when he brought back a brightly colored beach towel and an extra set of his training clothes. The sweatshirt was oversized and would have been coverage enough. But Ricky’s house was equipped with that Louisiana AC. You knew the second you stepped into the living room, as damp as you were, you’d freeze. His long track pants were the kind that had snaps up the side. Easy to get out of for runners before meets, and for wrestlers before matches. You made sure they were snapped together at least as low as your knee, leaving the rest of the fabric to sway. As for your underclothes, you added them to the pile that you tossed into his dryer. When you stepped into the living room, you almost thought to snap the track pants down to your ankles and to ask for socks.

You sat on the edge of the couch where you could reach the coffee table. “Why do you keep your house so cold?” At your fingertips was all the paperwork planning and plotting out his next couple of feuds. You picked up the one closest: a half-baked plan to take revenge on Big Bill for abandoning him to join Jericho.

Ricky settled next to you in matching snap-pants and a tank top. “Because it’s hot outside. And it’s better to freeze the humidity in the house than to try and survive it. Trust me.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

He bumped his shoulder into yours. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say. Boss.”

For the next two hours you two fleshed out the plans. Especially that first one with Bill. Together you came up with how to initiate the feud. The number of matches and how many weeks Ricky would take up screentime. You tweaked the climax fight, suggesting parallels to their tag matches, and adding moments to deal with Jericho at ringside. Bill liked you, and liked working with you when he and Ricky were a team. So, you had no reservations about pitching him some ideas later for promos and such.

About forty-five minutes into planning was when you noticed something hanging from Ricky’s neck. It was that little gold cross pendant. With the way he was leaned forward, it dangled into thin air. And your mind wandered. The pendant dangling in your face as he filled you, whispering the dirty things he was yet to do to you. But you had cleared your throat and moved on. There was work to do.

About twenty minutes after that, Ricky had released some of his snaps; up to his mid-thigh. Your mind wandered again. Riding that thigh. Rolling your hips as best you could, but his hands guiding your hips. All the while his mouth working miracles on your throat. But you shuffled the papers in your hands and moved on. It had been ages since you two had enjoyed each other’s company. And today didn’t have time for another fling.

Around the two-hour mark, he was animated and working through one of the promos you’d outlined. His hands moved through the air like punctuation. He didn’t speak at ring-volume. But you could still hear the passion in his voice. He ran through it a few times; adjusting where he added emphasis here, or lowering his voice instead of raising it there. All the while, you couldn’t take your eyes off his hands.

How they gripped the air. How his fingers splayed wide, or curled, or any other series of movements that made you shift in your seat.

He was oblivious. Until he came to the end of his run-through. “How was that?” When you didn’t answer, he finally glanced over at you, still holding up his hands where they’d been. “Hello?” Ricky’s slow grin spread as he followed you gaze. Bringing his posed hand closer to your face, he finally snapped his fingers. “Now, Ms. Y/L/N. What have I told you about objectifying me?”

Startled, you stammered. “I’m- I’m not objectifying you.” Clearing your throat, you sat down one stack of papers to pick up another. “I was… deep in thought. That last run was good. The pause was better than the last run.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” Ricky darted his tongue out to wet his lips, catching you staring from the corner of your eyes. “We should take a break.” Slapping his hands on the tops of his thighs, he ignored the way you jumped and headed towards his kitchen. “What’cha want? I made lemonade yesterday, or there’s always Coke…”

“No,” you squeaked. “I’m good.”

His silence lulled you into thinking he was long gone. You glanced over the sheets you picked up. Another half-baked feud. Wouldn’t take much to work it out though. Oh, but you’d have to call- You gasped as Ricky’s hands gently landed on your shoulders, sliding down your arms. They kept traveling down until Ricky could lean comfortably and press his cheek to yours.

“Perhaps you’d like a different kind of break?”

Your breath stuttered in your chest. All you could manage was to shake your head.

“Are you sure?” He nuzzled his nose behind your ear, smiling when you let out a shuddering sigh. “We’ve been working so hard. You deserve to take it easy.”

“To take what easy?”

Chuckling, he smiled against your cheek. “Mmm. I can think of at least one thing.” He began to kiss under your jaw. And to squeeze your arms still caught in his strong hands.

You tried, “it’s too hot-”

“You’ve been freezing since you walked in the door.”

“I wonder why that is?” you teased, glancing up at him. “Mr. Starks… have you been planning this since the beginning?”

He inhaled deeply, bobbing his head to one side in thought. “Not entirely. But I do feel bad that you got all wet,” he drawled. “Maybe I want to make it up to you.”

His kisses traveled from one side of your neck, back under your hair, to the other side. He stretched a hand across your chest to run over your collarbone. When it reached your other shoulder, you leaned into the forearm that caught under your chin.

“We should get back to work,” you breathed.

“We should.”

His hands caught your wrists where you tried to disengage yourself. Taking both into one hand, he held your arms to one side so the other could play with the neckline of your borrowed sweatshirt.

“People talk enough as it is.”

“Do they?”

“You’re my boss.”

“And what about it?”

His roaming touch dipped under the fabric to feel how your chest heaved.

“You’ll – you’ll stretch out the neckline.”

Ricky growled in your ear. “Does it feel like I give a damn?” He searched for your bra strap so he could snap it against your shoulder like he usually did. But all he could find was your flushed skin. “Where – where is it?”

“In the dryer with the rest of my clothes.”

“Hmm.” Sliding his hands under your arms, he lifted you up to sit on the back of the plush couch. He turned you around so he could slot himself between your thighs. To keep you from toppling backwards into the seats, he wrapped his arms around your waist. Which brough you nose to nose. “Tell me again. Whose been planning what from the start?”

Your lips trembled, and your hands flexed where they rested on his biceps. The hunger to kiss him as deeply as you were able was growing. “I wasn’t planning anything. I was just trying not to catch a cold.”

His lips ghosted over yours. “Alright. Then let’s warm you up, shall we?”

You met him tilt for tilt. While you leaned into his chest, he leaned towards you. It kept you precariously leaned back over the couch. The angle also further pressed your front into his, where you could feel what he had prepared. You dug your hands into his hair. Lightly dragging your nails across his scalp pushed his moan into your waiting mouth, and rolled his hips into yours.

“Ricky—”

“Hmm?”

“Need you.”

“You’ve got me.”

You had to roll your eyes. He knew he had you. But, like when you first started working for him, he didn’t have a more distant plan. You did. “No. Need you… on something flat.” Though he resisted, eventually you were able to push him away.

His head tilted to the side. “Flat? Like… the floor?” He wasn’t averse to the idea and was strongly considering taking you across his whole house when you spoke up.

“I was thinking somewhere more comfortable. Like… your bed?” Taking his wrist, you began to lead him that direction.

But he spun you, pinning you to the wall outside his bedroom door. “This is flat.”

“It’s vertical.”

His heated gaze across your skin took on a wicked gleam. Gently, he smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip. Softly he noted, “when has that ever stopped us?”

He had a point. There was that time in Nashville when he filled you against a bathroom stall wall in some honky-tonk. Or Toledo. When he was so jazzed up after his match that you didn’t make it to his dressing room, using some dark spot in a hallway. Or San Antonio. Where he ate you out while you were pinned to the inside of your hotel room door. You had held both hands over your mouth to keep from waking the whole floor. And there were so many other times. Most of them clandestine and hidden from the rest of the roster. But here of late, Ricky was less and less prone to hiding his feelings for you.

While you reminisced, Ricky’s hand slid up your front to around your neck. His thumb and forefinger squeezed lightly at your sweet spots to bring you back to the moment. His mouth hung open. With his eyes greedily drinking up how your body reacted to the memories. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip.

“No,” you murmured, “it’s never stopped us before.”

Just as you leaned forward to kiss him, he leaned back with a smirk. He dragged you the rest of the way into his bedroom. His mouth was all over before you finally toppled onto his sheets. He kept you pinned there, at the foot of the bed, instead of letting you shimmy your way up. Pulling the neckline of his sweatshirt to the side, he sucked what would turn into a dark mark into your skin. It would only be a little difficult to hide. His fingertips toyed with the bottom edge of the fabric.

“I like you in my sweatshirt. Maybe the next show, I’ll make you wear one of my t-shirts.”

“People might talk.”

“Does it look like I give a damn?” He smothered you with a deep, possessive kiss. But trepidation stilled his movements. He leaned back. “Do you give a damn?”

After a pause, you smiled. “Not in the slightest.” You dragged him back down to you. When you broke away for air, the cross pendant was dangling in your face. You were dazzled by it. Arching up, you nosed at it, making it spin, and caught it between your teeth.

Ricky watched you, enraptured. When he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, the cool metal draped across the side of your face. His hands finally travelled up your torso under his sweatshirt. Flipping up the fabric, he was finally rewarded with one of his favorite views. His hands, warm and trembling against your skin, slid up to cup under your breasts. He kneaded them, squeezing them and rolling the buds between his fingers. You arched into each touch and shift. You twirled your fingers into his hair. With the way Ricky had his body leaning over you, you couldn’t roll your hips into his. So there was nothing to relieve the growing desire between your thighs.

The kiss Ricky placed between your breasts stole your breath away. As did each following touch of his lips to your skin as he traveled down your body. He drifted fare enough down that your hands lost their grip in his locks.

The you heard the snaps.

One by one, Ricky worked his way up one leg, then the other, to help you out of his trackpants. Soon, only the four paired snaps kept the fabric attached around your waist. Instead of releasing you, he began to kiss up and down the inside of your thighs.

You groaned out, “Ricky—”

“Hmm?”

“Please…”

He smirked against your skin. “What, Cherie?”

Inwardly, your groan stretched out. He was planning something. Probably your sex-led demise. With a whimper, you thought about begging. “Why are you taking so long? I thought-“

“I said we needed a break. Maybe it needs to be a one-to-one break. We worked for a couple of hours, so now I can take a couple of hours to take care of you.”

With a groan, you fell back into the sheets. This man could accomplish a lot in just ten minutes. And infinitely more with hours to spend.

Distracted by that threat, you didn’t hear the last few snaps. Or feel Ricky smoothing his hands up and down your thighs. But when he dove in to flatten his tongue against your sex, you gasped loudly. His ministrations were just as loud. You covered your mouth so you could hear his pleased sounds.

“Nuh-uh,” he warned, leaning his head against the inside of your thigh. “Wanna hear you. Come on. We don’t have to hide here.”

Again, you thought about that time in San Antonio, pinned to the door inside your hotel room. But you also thought about that one time at the Buck’s summer party when he bent you over the bathroom sink while everyone else was outside watching the fireworks. And New Years in Atlanta. Counting down the seconds when everyone would shout, trying to time it to cover up your own shout of release.

Ricky was thinking about those times too. Among others. His devouring of you quickened. Eyes drifting shut, soon the only thing firing in his mind was the taste of you on his tongue, the sound of you on his sheets, and the pulsing of you around his curling fingers. You tried to warn him of your incoming release. But he knew you to well. He saw the signs. And sped up his movements until you fell apart. He grinned, hearing you cry out his name. Your release, he did his best to taste every drop of it. But now he couldn’t ignore the overwhelming presence of his own pressure. He let loose the last remaining snaps on his pants to give himself room to breathe.

But when he stood up, your thighs clamped down around one of his. Ricky watched as you slid your slick up and down his thigh. He leaned into it. When your whines finally passed through the haze glazing his view, he reached out to thumb over your clit. Here was another one of his favorite views. Looking up there was another. Your hair was slicking to the side of your face. Your eyes were closed. Your mouth open, panting and making the most adorable sounds. All for him.

“Ricky,” you breathed, cracking open your eyes, “need you. Please.” You held out your hand.

He slid his hand into yours. And slid his hard length between your folds covered in slick. Still sensitive, you shivered. But he kept moving. Each thrust of his hips sparkled your every nerve ending, while he frantically chased the sensation of you. You, just like this; already sexed-out and wanting more from him. More that he was very willing to give.

You clawed your free hand his bicep as he filled you. The stretch of him blurred your vision. Once he was completely surrounded by you, he braced his forearms on either side of your head. The necklace around his throat dragged across the valley between your breasts. Cool at first, it soon warmed. As if warmed by the friction of it moving across your skin. Or maybe it was warmed by the friction of Ricky filling and pulling away from you, and filing you.

Nose to nose, you tried to remember to breathe while Ricky had his wonderfully wicked way with you. He was whispering things into your forehead, and into the curve of your neck. But you could only catch every third word or so. “Mine,” and “so good,” and “perfect” and “mine.”

You also tried to keep your eyes open. But that was futile until he pleaded with you.

“Come on, baby. Let me see you. Open your eyes. So close. You gonna cum with me?”

All you could manage was to nod and rapidly blink your vision into focus.

Which is when he reached between you and heavily circled his fingers over your clit. Vision blurring again, it whited out at the corners. You dug your nails into his back, whimpering his name.

“There you are,” he said. “There’s my woman. Only mine.”

He kept moving.

You gave up trying to match rolling your hips to his pace. Ricky would be done when he was done with you. And that could be forever. But he wanted to see you.

Ricky’s hand gently settled at the base of your throat. The barest of squeezes helped you focus.

“Come on. Baby. Stick with me. Almost there.”

His grip tightened the closer he got. Your breath came out tighter and tighter. Each pant was shorter, desperate for air and his release.

As his pace statured, he let you go. Your whole body reacted to the influx of oxygen, and carried Ricky down into a spiral of relief. He did his best to not crush you underneath as his arms gave out. But you didn’t have a care in the living world. You were thrumming. And full of him. And glowing from the inside out. He heaved himself to one side, curling you into his embrace while you both caught your breath.

After a few minutes, Ricky got up for some running shorts. He came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up with a gentle tenderness. He also gently removed the snap-pants from under your body. Teasing, he tsked, “oh, no. You’ve made a mess of my runners.” He tossed the pants to one side and stood between your thighs. “I’m out of other things for you to wear. Whatever shall we do?”

You pushed him away so you could stand, if a bit wobbly at first. Staring him down, you tugged down his sweatshirt till it, barely, covered you ass. “We go over more paperwork.” You reached up to adjust his necklace so it didn’t hang sideways. He was close behind when following you back to the living room. And it didn’t take two hours the next time for him to lose composure and ravage you again.

***

Fanfiction Masterlist

Wrestling/WWE Masterlist

[cringefaecompilation]

not to dunk on junior year again but i am noticing a pattern here with the treatment of certain storytelling elements here.

both bell’s hells and the ratgrinders were pcs that gained sapience. the difference is that the ratgrinders were villains and the hells are heroes.

one of the most love-it-or-hate-it aspects of campaign 3 is that it does not only focus on the main 7 or 8 characters and everybody else is tossed to the wayside unless they benefit them like usual. all npcs (with downfall, that's including the gods!) deserve a chance to have their story told and they are all written to be that. the generic runaway prince you have to help escape to a life of freedom! the cute little helper robot npc! generic spooky evil minions based on public domain monsters! the quirky quest-giving fae! the rough and tumble hired goon! the brave captain of the guard protecting a strong lady in charge!  yes, even imogen, who in any other story would be the sad little abandoned daughter of the bbeg who would mourn the hero killing her mother but understand that the hero had to do what needed to be done.

and again, you don’t have to like it!

but there is a weird sort of thing i noticed amongst all the critical role c3 criticism that reminded me of people defending fhjy. an undercurrent of insisting that all the ratgrinders (who were teenagers. who were groomed and then murdered.) were pure evil spoiled brats and just wanted to be handed everything on a platter because they didn’t deserve what the main cast earned their place as the main characters and made passive aggressive posts saying things to the tune of you know they’re evil right. very Watsonian with a staunch refusal to look at a Doylist explanation. it got so bad to the point where people were insisting that if you liked the ratgrinders and sympathized with them then you were a fascism apologist.

astoundingly enough c3 criticism has only scraped the surface of this sort of overdramatic accusation, but it goes in the opposite direction. if you like where the story is going and how it's being told, then you’re not a real critical role fan. the story should have just been about the characters fighting evil fae or just wiping out the ruby vanguard and everyone in it without all this stupid introspective discussion on power because it’s retconning the gods being bad guys! grey morality sucks, why can’t good guys just be good? they all feel like npcs except for imogen because she’s the only one with a chosen birthright!

(of course, if they say that last part out loud, that might not look so good for them)

 yes, we know the gods are imperfect. that’s what we’ve been saying this whole time. but all these passive aggressive gifsets of liam-as-orym saying that the gods aren’t pure evil and it’s stupid to think so or laura and matt ooc saying that the gods have a grey area don’t mean fucking jack if you turn around and insist the gods have zero flaws and everything they do is good, actually and Aeor Had It Coming.

important caveats:

the actors on d20 could not react to things they were doing in the moment. they were tired after filiming 3 episodes back to back and wrapped up their season faster than usual to join the sag-aftra strike. i am aware of this.

yes i know that d20 is a comedy improv series! that does not prevent it from having deep themes and character introspection! ayda aguefort and zelda donovan still very much exist and had their own arcs despite being npcs!

yes the ratgrinders were working with a man trying to kill and replace a goddess and yes he is a colonizing twat. however, doesn’t that also make it the fandom’s insistence that liking the kids is bad and fascistic but making ship art of him and the other teacher that killed all of them is totally okay? rules for he but not for thee? 

[annebonnydyke]

So you’ve had fun Goncharov posting and now you actually want it to be real

(Disclaimer that this is my own opinion based on the vibes I get from Goncharov and you might not necessarily agree with me. Also blanket content warning most of these work deal heavily with domestic abuse, violence, racism, and sexual assualt)

1. The Godfather Part 1 and 2- as far as I can tell this is where most of the Goncharov gifsets come from. This is one of those movies people constantly tell you is amazing and when you finally sit down and watch you get upset bc they were right. They’re regarded as some of the best and most important movies in the film canon for a reason. Mafia movies about the corruption of the soul, inescapable cycles, being doomed by The Narrative™ and of course young hot and sexy Al Pacino and Robert De Niro.

2. House of Leaves- for people who enjoy the interpretation of a nonexistent work part of Goncharov, House of Leaves is partly a horror story about a house that bigger on the inside, partly an academic analysis of the nonexistent record of that horror, partly the story of a man’s psychological unraveling, partly a critique of cold academic analysis, and partly a love story. If your favorite part of Goncharov was the metanalysis of a work that doesn’t exist and trying to fit all the pieces together this ones for you.

3. The Handmaiden- for all the people who love Katya and Sofia, two women stuck in their place in the world, who love each other but end up betraying each other. The Handmaiden is psychological thriller about a Korean pickpocket who is sent to con a Japanese noblewoman out of her fortune. Deals heavily with themes of deceit, betrayal, queer love, imperialism, and a woman’s place in a world controlled by men. My favorite movie of all time, highly recommend.

4. Black Sails- truthfully only tangentially similar vibe-wise to Goncharov but as a black sails blog the mutuals would have my head if I didn’t include it on this list and trust me the Goncharov to Black Sails pipeline is very real. Fans of clock symbolism and being being trapped by The Narrative™ will greatly enjoy this one. also that Katya/Sofia and Eleanor/Max/Anne parallels are real and I can prove it and don’t get me started on the Silver and Andrey parallels.

5. Bound (1996)- another one for the Katya/Sofia girlies out there. Two women hatch a plot to steal millions from the mafia, but will they make it out alive? Great style and cinematography and much more punchy and action heavy than the the rest of these. Its a very good modern film noir and the first feature film directed by the Wachowski sisters. Also a much shorter movie (1 hour and 48 minutes) if longer runtimes aren’t your thing.

Honorable Mentions

1. Goodfellas- I personally haven’t seen Goodfellas yet so can’t really give my opinion on it however if you actually want a mafia movie directed by Martin Scorsese starring Robert De Niro here’s one you can actually watch. My friend Angel says this ones really good and I trust their opinion

2. War and Peace 1966-67- again I haven’t seen this one but my friend Bianca really liked this one and tells me whenever she pictures Goncharov she imagines this. From what I gather people who are interested in how soviet history affected the art of the time and enjoy complicated relationship drama will enjoy this one. Also if you’re into very long media this one is split into 4 parts and clocks in at a crisp 7 hours.

If anyone has other suggestions let me know! I love getting recommendations :)

[jeonginsdiary]

omg Omggggg for the minho gifset idea thing.

how about he was just faking being asleep so that the ler (who’s been on quite a ler mood recently and had finally chosen his victim) just gives up. But the ler is better than that and clearly knows he’s just faking and starts to gently tickle him as he tries to stay quiet (he fails miserably) and when he finally giggles out “leave me alone!” In a grumpy voice, that the ler goes all in (pun intended)

- tickletober day 27

- hysterical

- lee! minho | ler! chan

—————

“minho?”

chan shook the younger who was laying face flat on the bed. “are you sleeping?”

lee know’s heart thumped so loud he was sure anyone could hear it from a mile away. no, he wasn’t sleeping, but he couldn’t let chan know that. the oldest was in one of his moods again and was searching the dorm for someone to tickle.

now if minho knew one thing, he was not going to be the boy’s target. so he laid there, face squished into the mattress and body limp. he was glad chan couldn’t see his red face.

“i guess so…” the australian slowly got up and walked towards the door, the dancer nearly sighing in relief until he heard the sound of a lock clicking. his stomach dropped.

chan had locked the two of them in the bedroom together and was now advancing on him.

the older carefully sat on lee know’s back and dug his two pointer fingers into said boy’s lower ribs.

no reaction.

surprised the dancer had managed to keep quiet, he teasingly walked his fingers up the younger’s ribs, watching minho’s arms slowly start to come down the higher he got. “oh?” the leader grinned and went for the kill as he dug into the dancer’s armpits. the poor boy tried his hardest to stay quiet but it was too late because the giggles escaping his mouth were inevitable. “ticklish?” chan teased, and minho finally gave up his act.

“leave me alohohohohone!” he whined, clamping his arms to his sides and attempting to turn his body around. unfortunately, the australian kept him where he was, digging into his sides from behind and relishing in the little shriek he received.

“why would i leave you alone? i haven’t even had my fun yet!” chan cooed, scoffing when minho tried grabbing onto his wrists.

the younger groaned through his giggles. “stahahahahap! thahat tickles so bahahahahad!” he cried when the australian pushed his thumbs into his lower sides.

“plehehehahahaha— no! NOOHOHOHOHOHO!!” the dancer’s laughter came high pitched and frantic when the leader found his hips, knuckling and massaging deep into the bone.

chan smirked. “you telling me it tickles just makes me want to wreck you more.” all ten of his fingers clawed torturously at both of minho’s hips and the younger screamed hysterically, pushing at the leader’s fingers and trying his best to curl up.

“THEHEHEN IT DOHOESN’T TICKLE! IT DOESN’T TIHIHIHIHICKLE GET OHOHOHOFF!!” lee know pleaded, throwing his head around in desperation, causing chan to get a glimpse of his flushed, teary eyed face.

the producer’s eyes sparkled in adoration. “if it doesn’t tickle then why do i see you smiling?” he asked in faux confusion.

minho gasped in a breath of air. “no more! no more hyung! please don’t! do—OHOHOHOHOHON’T!” the leader dug roughly into the boy’s armpits, forcing a choked squeal out of him. “IHIHIHI’M SAHAHAHAHARRY!!” lee know drummed his legs against the mattress frantically.

“sorry for what..?” chan giggled, getting off of the clearly desperate dancer’s back and watching him roll over in defeat.

“don’t tickle me.” minho deadpanned despite the toothy smile plastered to his face.

chan patted his back. “no promises.”

—————

?? idk what to feel abt this tbh😔

i’ll write another fic soon so i can redeem myself hopefully😋

[moonlightspencie]

hear me out… washing the impala at the bunker with dean when you’re bored. please and thank you 🫶🏼

literally rbed a gifset of him doing that exact thing earlier today. i’m feral for this scene {and the entire episode} so my brain is running wild rn hehe (also the quote from said episode, “i’m mostly confused” was one of my first handles on tumblr)

pairing: dean winchester x gn!reader

—————

You strolled around the bunker, frankly unsure what to do with yourself without the absolute urgency of chasing down some big bad. Not even a casual case had come up in a couple days, and you were growing a bit restless.

You finally ran into Sam after wandering for a while, catching him as he made a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you greeted briefly, walking over to steal a piece of ham.

You chewed on it as he glanced at you with a quirked brow. He chuckled softly, then sighed.

“Hey,” he finally said. “You done eating my sandwich ingredients?”

“It was one piece of ham, Sammy.”

“Sam,” he corrected.

“I’ve been living with y’all for how long?”

He paused, then shook his head softly with a smile.

“You doing anything today?” you asked, hopping up on the counter.

He watched you for a moment. “Not really.”

“Ugh,” you groaned.

“What?” he asked, laughing.

“I’m bored,” you exclaimed. “We’re all cooped up, I need to… I need to do something.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged. “I’m gonna eat my sandwich.”

You sighed hard. “Where’s Dean?”

“Garage. I think he’s washing the cars.”

“All of em?”

“Probably,” he said with a smirk. “Go bother him.”

“Bother him? You think I’m bothering you?”

“Yes.”

You scoffed playfully, hopping off the counter. You started walking away, but made sure to get the last word in.

“One of these days I’ll be long gone and you’re gonna miss me like crazy, Sammy.”

He smiled again, not able to get in a word as you left for the garage.

You heard music playing before you even got to the door, opening it carefully and walking inside. You saw him, soaking the impala in soap and water, just a black t-shirt and jeans.

At least he wasn’t wearing the short-shorts this time.

You let yourself watch him for a few moments, never not in awe as to how someone could look so good in a plain black t-shirt. Eventually you decided to stop creeping on him and headed towards him instead.

“Hey,” he said as soon as he saw you.

“Hey. You need help?” you asked, lingering near the hood as he wiped down the windshield. “And by that I mean, please let me help. I’m dying to do something.”

He smiled, nodding towards the suds-filled bucket.

“Grab a sponge.”

You picked up the other sponge from the bucket, wasting no time in scrubbing down the roof of the car. You both listened to the music, slowly but surely getting every nook and cranny of the vehicle. You were working on one of the back wheel wells when Dean grabbed your attention.

“Hey, trade-off,” he said, tossing a newly-wet sponge in your direction.

Unfortunately for you, he didn’t give enough of a verbal warning. The heavy sponge hit you in the leg, knocking you off your balance and making you land straight on your butt. You opened your mouth in a feigned offense.

“You dick,” you said, laughing lightly.

He laughed at you, not even bothering to help you back up. You scrambled up, slamming the sponge on top of the car and grabbing the hose. You called for him, stopping him from laughing right as you sprayed him with the hose, effectively soaking his shirt.

His eyes went wide, freezing in his motions for a few seconds.

“You little—”

He started after you, not stopping even as you started spraying him again.

“No!” you squealed.

He closed in, grabbing you and effectively trapping you against the car. He wrestled the hose from your hand, turning it on you.

“How do you like it?”

You screamed and laughed, trying to push him off. He was relentless, giggling with glee as he soaked you completely. You reached behind you to get the sponge, wringing it out over his head. Luckily for you, it shocked him enough to get out of his grip. Unluckily for you, he quickly recovered and caught up to you before you could get far.

“You’re not getting away that easy,” he muttered.

He grabbed you from behind as you tried running, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding your arms to your chest. You laughed hard, trying to wriggle away.

“You’re so mean,” you yelled, his grip only tightening.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he said into your ear, clearly proud of himself.

“Whoa,” you heard Sam’s voice. “Should I give you two some privacy?”

You stood up a little straighter, looking in his direction. Dean only slightly loosened his grip.

“We’re washing the car,” you stated as if he didn’t just walk in with fully functional eyes.

He merely quirked a brow. “You two look cleaner than the car.”

“She started it,” Dean said quickly.

You craned your neck to see him behind you, giving him a sour look.

“You threw a sponge at me.”

“You hosed me down.”

Sam nodded slowly, backing out of the room quietly to retreat.

“Not fair,” you said, almost smiling again.

“Very fair,” he stated.

“Let me go,” you laughed.

“No way,” he said, only holding on tighter. “This is your punishment.”

You smirked. “If you really wanted to cuddle this bad, you could’ve just asked, you know?”

“How much you gonna let me ask for?”

“Not much I wouldn’t,” you said, hoping this wasn’t crossing any lines.

He hummed, an obvious smile in his voice, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Apparently, he didn’t care much about a crossed line or two.

check out the drabble masterlist | send requests for more

[lucienarcheron]

Boner for You [Elorcan]

Prompt: Fake Dating College AU where Lorcan just wants Elide to be his girlfriend for a party and Elide wants to pretend she isn’t thrilled about it. |

Genre: Fluff/Humor Rating: SFW despite the title lol. Recommended listen: Born by OneRepublic Author’s note: Inspired by this gifset here. I saw it and it screamed Elorcan. I just had to find a way to fit it in and what better way than fake dating?

She stood scowling, rooted in her spot.

If it was up to her, she would stay rooted to this spot forever rather than step into that frat party and have to embarrass herself for him.

Elide’s eyes shifted up to glare at Lorcan who was glancing down at her with a smirk.

“Scared?”

“No.” she scoffed. “More annoyed with myself for letting you put me in this position.”

He grinned at her and brought an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closely into him. “Now now, you agreed on your own. All I did was ask.”

“Desperately.” Elide gritted out and his grin widened.  “You asked very desperately.”

“And then you agreed to come to this party with me.” He said, leaning down to meet her gaze. His smile was wicked and Elide wanted to reach up and choke him. “You agreed to come with me to the party and be my girlfriend so that my ex would leave me alone.”

“Pretend. I am pretending to be your girlfriend.” Elide emphasized then pointed at him with narrowed eyes. “And what if your crazy ex-girlfriend decides to turn her crazy on me, hm? What happens then?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, kitten.” he replied, his voice low and he playfully tried to bite her finger which she retracted immediately with a growl.

“I’m not your kitten. Don’t call me that.”

“I didn’t say my kitten but I see how you like the possessiveness of the term.” he replied, grinning at her and she scowled again. “I’ll make sure to call you that in front of people so that they know what my girlfriend likes.”

“I’m going to punch you in the face if you don’t stop.”

“You can’t reach my face, kitten.”

Elide pulled away from his arm and used every bit of strength she had to yank him down by the front of his shirt until they were inches apart.

“Yes, I can.” she replied, glaring. “Don’t push your damn luck, Salvaterre.”

“Feisty. I’m hella turned on right now.” he said, grinning obnoxiously and Elide nearly did punched him right then and there.

“Lorcan.”

“Elide.”

“I hate you.”

“Yet, you’re still here.”

Elide groaned and shot him another glare then pointedly gestured towards the door. “Let’s get this over with, you giant barbarian.”

It had been so stupid of her. So stupid.

Did she know that this would happen when she agreed to tutor his stupid ass in their Calculus course? No.

Did she think she would start crushing on this giant jock with a handsome face and really nice body while she was tutoring him? Definitely not.

Despite how annoying he was now, Lorcan was actually a good student. So when he spent the majority of their last lesson completely zoned out, she snapped at him until he confessed. He had caught her completely off guard when he asked her to go with him to a party that Fenrys was hosting. She had gotten invited alongside all her friends but hadn’t planned on going — she had even forgotten about the whole thing, until he asked.

It had taken every ounce of willpower in her not to blush and not to get too happy about it.

-Two days ago-

“Why?”

“Why what?” he had asked her confused.

“Why are you asking me?”

He shrugged. “I need someone to play my girlfriend for the party.”

“And you thought of me?”

“Yeah.” he had replied. “You’re smart and hot. Plus you're tiny and it makes me look bigger than I already am.”

Her expression flattened. “So you want me to go with you because I help inflate your ego?”

“Yup.” he smirked.

She squinted at him then said, “No.”

“Come on,” he insisted, attempting a pleading look. “I know your friends are going and it’ll be fun.”

“You think I want my friends to see me pretending to be your girlfriend?”

“They’d love it.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“What if I told you it was because my ex was there and I really don’t want to deal with her?” he asked and Elide pursed her lips at what seemed to be a genuine expression. As if Lorcan Salvaterre couldn’t handle his ex-girlfriend.

“So you want me to play buffer between you and your ex?”

“No. When she sees you with me, she won’t approach at all.”

Elide snorted. “I doubt Maeve will be intimidated by me at all, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Oh, Maeve will never see you coming. She’ll be too shocked.” Lorcan replied with a small smile.

“Shocked that you’ll stoop low enough to date a girl like me?” she asked, glowering at him.

“Shocked that a beautiful, smart girl like you would even look at a guy like me.” he corrected with a grin and Elide had wanted to punch herself for blushing.

“Well...there’s so much of you, you’re not exactly hard to miss.” she muttered, intensely gazing at her textbook. “Giant beefcake.”

Lorcan burst out laughing at that and Elide shot him a dirty look.

“If you haven’t already put that as my name on your contact list, please change it to that.” he said after it took him a few minutes to calm himself in which Elide thought of multiple ways to stab him to death with her pencil.

“I already have you down as ‘Annoying asshole’. I think it suits you better.” she huffed and he smirked at her.

“Fair enough.” he had replied, leaning closer to her. “So will you go with me? I’d be honored to have you as my pretend girlfriend.”

After a few moments of silence, she had finally agreed, on the condition that no intimate gestures would take place.

He laughed for another ten minutes at that and then Elide almost really did stab him with her pencil.

~

Currently, Elide wished she had stabbed him just to avoid stepping into this jungle.

Music was blaring, people were drunk all over the place, not to mention all over each other. Elide grimaced slightly. Lorcan’s gaze fell on her expression and he smirked before turning back to face the hallway, maneuvering them through the bodies.

“So which room do you want to start in first?”

“We will not be going into any rooms at all.” she snarled. “Open spaces only.”

Lorcan turned suddenly, causing Elide to crash into him. She staggered for a moment but Lorcan’s arm easily came around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Why? You’ve been in a room alone with me before, Elide.”

“That was the library. We’re never really alone in there.” she said, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with flushed cheeks. “I already told you no funny business!”

Lorcan laughed and brought his face down to the crook of her neck, nuzzling his nose there before moving to her ear and speaking quietly, “Trust me, Elide. Business between us would be anything but funny.”

Her whole body heated at his words as he pulled away with another one of his wicked smiles and Elide let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“You giant animal.” she hissed and he snickered.

“You know kitten, you keep mentioning how much of a giant I am.” he purred. “I’m starting to think you’re hella attracted to how much of me there is. You like that I dwarf you, don’t you?”

Elide could almost feel the steam coming out of her ears as she glared at him but he only laughed and winked at her.

She wanted to run at him and pound his face in. Elide was well aware he was making fun of her and yeah she was attracted to him because he was really handsome. And tall. And beefy. She did like that he dwarfed her. In her low moments, she often wondered what it would be like to actually have his giant body on hers.

Despite how annoying he was, she had to admit, he had charmed her in one way or another. The time they spent together working on calculus was ridiculous and he infuriated her to no end. But then he also brought her a cup of coffee and a snack for every tutoring session. He pissed her off but he made her laugh too. Lorcan was nice to her, even when he was being annoying.

Sighing, she followed him. Elide would play his girlfriend. Maybe she’d enjoy it. In fact, maybe she’d be the one to surprise him. With a determined expression on her face, she followed where Lorcan was now heading towards his friends.

What Elide didn’t know was that Lorcan was giddy as hell on the inside. He had taken a risk asking her that day but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least try with her. This wasn’t about Maeve at all. That bitch wasn’t even at the party but Lorcan was willing to use her as an excuse if only to get Elide to come with him. Tutoring had been the first excuse so he could get her number. He was crushing on this tiny girl so badly, it made Lorcan want to dig a hole and die in it. She was too good for him. Way too pure. But he saw the way she looked at him sometimes. And he saw the way she blushed at the things he said and that had given him hope. Also, it gave his imagination a lot to work with.

“Elide! You CAME!” Fenrys half screamed, already drunk. He came and threw himself on her and Elide yelped at his weight.

“Hi, Fenrys.” she choked out and Lorcan quickly yanked his giggling friend off Elide.

“Don’t crush my girlfriend. I haven’t tortured her enough yet.”

Elide shot him a glare and Fenrys let out a loud gasp.

“YOU GUYS ARE DATING?”

“Yup.” Lorcan replied, grinning obnoxiously at Elide, the glare still in his direction.

“Nope.”  She countered and Lorcan raised a brow.

“SINCE WHEN? UGH FINALLY LORCAN.” Fenrys continued, leaning against the wall for support and it was Elide’s turn to raise a brow.

“Finally?” Elide asked and Lorcan smirked.

“Don’t worry about it, kitten.”

Elide narrowed her eyes then broke out into a devilish smile. She leaned closer into Lorcan, bringing an arm around his waist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve been pining over me all this time.” she said and it was Lorcan’s turn to narrow his eyes at her. “If I didn’t know you were truly clueless at calculus, I’d think it was an excuse to spend time with me...babe.”

Lorcan blinked and prayed his body wouldn’t betray him because Elide was touching him all on her own and he felt that death was near. Her delicate hands were on his body and he felt both blessed and cursed. Fenrys giggled drunkenly.

“SHE CALLED YOU BABE. AW SHIT. YOU’RE IN DEEP LORCAN.”

“Is he now?” Elide asked, looking over at Fenrys. “Do tell.”

“Shut up, Fenrys.”  Lorcan snarled softly and Elide’s mischievous grin returned.

“Oh please, Fenrys, tell me.”

“PFFT, HE’S HAD A BONER FOR YOU FOR LIKE — MONTHS NOW.”

“Does he now?” Elide asked sweetly, lifting her eyes to meet Lorcan’s, pulling away from him and he scowled at her.

“YEAH. LIKE — HE NEVER SHUTS UP ABOUT YOU. HE ALWAYS STARES AT YOU LIKE A CREEP.”

Fenrys clearly wanted to die today. Lorcan’s scowl deepened but it was mixed with a slight panic and he bopped his friend on the side of his head causing Fenrys to yelp in return. He wanted to tell Elide he liked her. But not like this and certainly not through Fenrys.

“He’s drunk. Don’t flatter yourself and believe him.” Lorcan muttered to her, attempting the bravado he had when they first came in.

Elide blinked, her lips forming a small pout and she saw his eyes flash for a moment. “Well, geez, relax beefy.” she said quietly. “I already know you wouldn’t stoop for a girl like me. You’re the one who insisted I come with you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” he quickly amended and surprise colored Elide’s face at the red staining his cheeks. “I just — don’t listen to Fenrys — he’s being stupid —”

Elide waved a hand and cut him off, trying not to let the way her heart dropped at his words show in her expression. “Don’t worry about it. You should go get your girlfriend a drink.” she said, looking anywhere but him. “I’m going to need several if I have to keep pretending to like you.”

She could’ve swore hurt, then regret, flashed in his eyes before he reluctantly left her side to find the drinks. Elide watched him as he left and let out a sigh then her eyes scanned the room for any of her other friends.

“You know — hiccup — he really does like you.” Fenrys said, still rubbing the spot where Lorcan hit him. Elide turned to him with a raised brow.

“Does he now?”

Fenrys nodded then winced, rubbing his head again. “He just has a s-shitty way of showing it.” he slurred softly. “Maeve was a manipulative b-bitch. She totally — hiccup — fucked him up.”

Elide’s eyebrows furrowed and a small frown came on her face. Maybe Fenrys was right but that was certainly too much to hope for. Sure, he flirted with her nonstop and she had been attracted to him but Elide wasn’t really experienced and he most certainly was and —

“You’re overthinking it, t-tiny one.” Fenrys said with a drunk chuckle. “I can see it on your pretty face.”

Elide rolled her eyes but her cheeks heated nonetheless. “You’re drunk. You don’t even know what you’re saying right now.”

“Listen, I’m drunk cupid.” he said with a hiccup. “You got a b-boner for him like he has one for you. Just DO IT.”

Elide winced as he yelled the last two words, the blush deepening on her face before she waved Fenrys off. “Stop it. If he comes back just tell him I went to find the girls.”

“When you guys bone, I w-want a gift in exchange for this encouragement!” he called out after her and she flipped him off, causing him to laugh.

Elide’s eyes took in the mess of the room around her. People making out, people dancing, people laughing and drinking. She really wasn’t big on parties so she only came from time to time and each time, she was sure it would be her last.

“Well, it certainly isn’t a Fenrys party unless he’s getting flipped off by multiple people.” Aelin’s voice came from behind her and she turned with a wide grin to find her close friend.

“There you are! I was just starting to look for you and the girls!” Elide said, hugging her. “Where are they?”

“Manon and Dorian ran off doing things I don’t want to think about and Lysandra is kicking Aedion’s ass at beer pong.” Aelin replied with a laugh and Elide grinned.

“What about you and Rowan? I’m surprised you’re not all over each other at the moment.” she teased and Aelin gave her a smirk.

“We break up our intense make-outs and inappropriate touching into sessions so we don’t miss the party. You missed the first two times.” she replied with a nonchalance shrug and Elide burst out laughing.

“I’ll try to avoid any further sessions, thanks.” Elide said with an eye roll, her eyes scanning the room again, and fell on a current arm wrestling match going on between Rowan and Gavriel. Her eyes fell on the hulking figure of Lorcan intensely cheering the two on, the drink he was supposed to be getting her still in his hands.

“Forget about me...what about you?” Aelin asked and her tone made Elide meet her gaze. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

Elide knew what she meant. Her cheeks heating on their own indicated she knew exactly what Aelin was asking and the way Aelin’s smirked at her made Elide want to run from this stupid party.

“You walking in with Lorcan? Lorcan having his hands all over you when you first came in? His face buried in your neck? You having your hands all over him moments ago? Fenrys screaming something about boners and for you two to just do it?” Aelin rattled off and Elide groaned. “I mean, Elide, when were you going to tell me you guys were boning? Everyone has been taking bets on how long it’ll take for the two of you to go for it.”

Elide’s expression turned to horror and Aelin started laughing hysterically. “I-It’s not like that!” Elide quickly explained, her face burning. “I — we — it’s not like that! I’m just pretending to be his girlfriend! I’m doing him a favor!”

“Elide, Elide, Elide.” Aelin tutted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I may dislike Lorcan because he’s an annoying pig, but the heart wants what it wants. I will support you. And cut his balls off if he does anything stupid.”

Elide was about to protest again but Aelin pulled away to give her a look and she let her eyes wander back to where Lorcan was.  As if feeling her gaze, his eyes flickered to hers and Elide tried not to let his expression unnerve her. She braced herself as he started walking towards her and slowly handed her a drink.

“Sorry. I got distracted.” he said quietly and Elide took the drink, their fingers brushing as they had many times during their tutoring sessions. She curled a loose strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a thin smile.

“It’s fine. You guys look like you’re having fun.”

“Yeah.” he replied and his free hand came up to rub on the back of his neck. He shot Aelin a look before looking back at Elide and leaned closer to her. “I’m sorry. About earlier too. I didn’t mean what I said.”

She raised a brow at him. Lorcan’s expression was that of a scolded child. She almost laughed.

“It’s fine.” she repeated. “I get it. Fenrys riles up everyone.”

Lorcan chuckled then his expression turned serious again as if weighing his next words carefully. His eyes flashed to Aelin again but Aelin only crossed her arms, rooted to her spot and watched earnestly. Lorcan scowled and Elide bit back a smile then brought a hand to his chin, bringing his attention back to hers.

“What’s wrong?” she asked and Lorcan’s jaw clenched when she pulled her hand away. Elide had no idea what was going on in his mind but his eyes gave away to the hurricane which were his emotions. He cleared his throat and took a step back, taking the drink he had handed her moments ago then finished the entire cup in one go.

“I just wanted to say…” he began, then licked his lips. “Fenrys wasn’t wrong. He’s...he’s right.”

Elide blinked, looking between her empty hand and his earnest face. “W-what?”

“He’s right. I do. You know.” he said and Elide saw color heat his cheeks as he waved his hand, looking anywhere but at her. “Have a boner for you or whatever.”

Her eyebrows shot up as Aelin snorted behind her but the two ignored her.

“What I meant — I mean — that isn’t how —” Lorcan growled then stopped himself, crushing the empty plastic cup in his hand. He cleared his throat and then locked eyes with her. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while. It doesn’t mean you have to do anything about it. I’m just — I’m being upfront with you.”

Elide stared at him. She heard the words he was saying but she wasn’t sure she could comprehend it. Lorcan watched her expression of shock and swallowed.

“So uh. You don’t have to pretend to be my girlfriend anymore. Maeve was just an excuse for me to ask you to the party.” he said and gave her an embarrassed smile. “I uh...I’m just going to go. Have fun with the girls.”

Elide blinked again and watched him go. Her body lurched forward after him but then she paused, turning to Aelin with a dumbfounded expression.

“Did he just —?”

“Yup.”

“Does he really —?”

“Yup.”

Elide’s whole body flushed and Aelin burst into giggles.

“I can’t believe he actually likes me.” she mumbled and Aelin squinted at her.

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re amazing, El.”

Elide shook her head. “I just...never thought I was his type.”

“You are very much his type.” Aelin confirmed and Elide looked at her curiously. “He’s whined to Rowan about you before when he doesn’t think I’m around. Jokes on him, Rowan tells me everything anyways.”

Elide’s cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. “So...so this is real? He isn’t...playing a game or anything?”

Aelin shook her head with a smile. “Definitely not. He knows you’re the real deal.” she said and Elide’s eyes flickered back to where Lorcan had returned to an even more intense arm wrestling match than before. He was seated in the place of Rowan, giving his opponent a menacing look as they got ready to go.

Elide watched him. She watched the curve of his body as he sat, barely putting in any effort to knock his opponent down. The corner of her lip went up when he started sniggering at the poor fellow clenching his arm and at the two who took his place. Idiots. She thought. He was a giant beast, none of them would actually be able to beat him.

“Jeez, Elide. Get a damn room.” Aelin said with a snort. Elide shot her a look.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Aelin grinned. “Maybe. But at least I’m usually in his lap when I stare at Rowan like that.” she said then gently pushed Elide. “You should probably move along if you would like the same fate.”

“You think he’s annoying.” she said incredulously.

“Yes, he is and I would love to stab him if pulls anything.” Aelin said and then shrugged. “But he's not a total loser. What can I say? I’m a sucker for love.”

Elide blushed then bit her lip. He had been upfront with her. Maybe it was time she returned the favor.

Taking one last look at Aelin, Elide moved. She weaved her way through the bodies, her eyes locked on Lorcan and his bulging muscles that easily knocked over the two opponents across from him. She watched him laugh at his success but the laugh quickly died in his throat when Elide slid into the seat across from him.

She heard the murmur of confusion that her move had caused but her eyes were locked on the male across from her as he gazed at her with a raised brow.

Elide rested her elbow on the table and held her hand up, in position for the silly arm wrestling game he’d been playing. She gestured with her chin to his arm and with a tilt of his head, he slowly reached out to clasp his palm in hers.

“What are you doing?”

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked quietly, her heart racing at their linked palms. She really did like how his hand completely enveloped hers.

Lorcan held her gaze and she saw the sincerity in them when he answered. “Yes.”

“You have a boner for me then?” she asked with a small smile and his lips twitched.

“I do. A big boner.” he replied, a grin spreading on his face now. “Both emotionally and physically.”

“That’s good.” she said and leaned her body across the table, planting a quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise and Elide took that moment to bring his arm down, giving her a cheater’s win in the arm wrestling match. “Because I have a boner for you too.”

At that moment, with him gaping at her stupidly, it felt like the rest of that room had vanished. It was just the two of them and a thrill rushed through her body. Lorcan stared at her for a few seconds before his head leaned back and he barked out a loud laugh.

Cheeks burning, Elide pulled back with a grin of her own.

“You owe me a date, Salvaterre. I expect you to deliver.”

He leaned back in his chair and gave her a look that made heat flood low in her belly. Oh, how she hated him.

“I owe you several dates and I plan to deliver on every single one of them.” he replied smoothly.

“Don’t expect me to go any easier on you during our tutoring though. I’m a dedicated instructor.” she said and leaned against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. His eyes lingered there a little too long before meeting her gaze and leaning forward against the table as well.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from my girlfriend.”

“Actual girlfriend now, huh?”

“Mm. This plays into so many of my fantasies.”

“Does it now?”

“I’ve been a very bad student, kitten.”

“I honestly cannot stand you.” she replied incredulously, but the knowing grin he gave her had her toes curling and cheeks burning again. He held his palm open to her.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked quietly and she slipped her hand into his. She really liked how much he dwarfed her.

“I most definitely do.”

[antiadvil]

what are some phancoded songs?

okay i have been sitting on this for a while bc i feel like all of my suggestions are basic but i've been emboldened by the recent phan song posting. a lot of the songs on my phlaylist i added because i associate them with wad/ii/etc but here are the ones i can actually lyrically defend:

the tortured poet's department (taylor swift): look. this song is way more toxic than i usually like to imagine dan and phil. but some lyrics are just SO. look.

But you're in self-sabotage mode Throwing spikes down on the road But I've seen this episode and still loved the show

imagine: it is 2010. dan is saying he doesn't know if he and phil should move in together because phil makes him too happy and complacent in life. self sabotage mode!! throwing spikes down on the road!!

Who else decodes you? And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's gonna know you, if not me?

like. when you just click with someone. and you're like: this is it for me. if they leave me i will never love or be loved again. one of the things i like about this song is just how intense it is- i think it captures the intensity of their relationship (especially their early relationship) or at least, the intensity i feel about their relationship lmao

I chose this cyclone with you

this is probably my favorite lyric on the song and i think it's something many mentally ill people want to hear from our partners: you're an intense, dramatic mess, but you're my intense, dramatic mess, and i love you.

they don't know about us (one direction): okay this one is a little more self explanatory and like, thank god, because if i go to that level of depth on every song i'm going to be here all night.

They don't know about the things we do They don't know about the I love you's But I bet you, if they only knew (They don't know) They would just be jealous of us They don't know about the up all nights They don't know I've waited all my life Just to find a love that feels this right (They don't know) Baby, they don't know about, they don't know about us

like. you get it right? it's just. it's just them

that's so us (allie x): this one is sooo basic but i just had to put it. "we've been a wreck together since 2009." <3333333333

danny don't you know (ninja sex party) just has some really crazy parallels lmao, i saw someone use its lyrics once for a gifset and i was never able to unsee it:

Hey little Danny, don’t you cry I am you from much later in your life I know your hair is wild, I know you have no style

Danny, don’t you know that you are cool as fuck on the inside? You’re just going through an awkward phase from 12 to 29

Now you’re on tour and they want more! You step on stage and they come alive No one cares that you’re 35 You’re a rock star on a centaur! Where'd he get a centaur? You’re still a nerdy kid inside But now you’ve finally found your tribe Hear the crowd roar! Give ‘em what they came for!

like!!! they even got the hair!!! (dan has always had a sense of style though i think. not always a good one. but he had one)

sinners (lauren aquilina): this song just reminds me a lot of how dan talks about his internalized homophobia (and of my own experiences with that).

And judgement taught us that our hearts were wrong

The rules say our emotions don't comply But we'll defy the rules until we die

The world may disapprove But my world is only you

You showed me feelings I've never felt before We're making enemies, knocking on the devil's door And how can you expect me not to eat When the forbidden fruit tastes so sweet?

yeah this is like half the song. deal with it. like. i think there can be something very healing about entering into a queer relationship with someone who makes you feel loved and safe after years of being told that was wrong. "how can you expect me not to eat / when the forbidden fruit tastes so sweet?" when i was young i had a very powerful sort of reverse conversion experience, where i had been struggling to make sense of catholic teachings on homosexuality because like... it just didn't seem that bad. but everyone around me was saying it was. parents, teachers, family friends. and i was like, 14, and at that age, you kind of assume that adults do know more than you. they wouldn't all be against this if there was no reason, right? and then i fell in love with a girl and i was just like. wow. okay. these people are just wrong?? because this feels so good and normal and right?? like. yeah. the forbidden fruit tastes good. and is good for you, actually.

the alchemy (taylor swift) is just like, a power couple song. i don't know that any lyrics are super specifically phan coded (phoded if you will) like i just hear anything about love and go "oh my god that's so dan and phil coded." but:

Call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby, I'm the one to beat

These blokes warm the benches We've been on a winning streak

like! they are THE youtube couple sorry everyone else is just trying to be as cool as them.

'Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me

gay

Where's the trophy? He just comes runnin' over to me

boncas anyone????

okay this is like so long and i have so many chores to do so i'll cut it here but not without adding still into you (paramore). self explanatory

[guardian-angle22]

I am so upset. They could have tied this into Owen being obsessed after 9/11 and that triggering TK, especially since they were talking about the horse being triggered, but they're not connecting them at all. I started watching the show because of the relationship between Owen and TK, but they're not even in any scenes together anymore. It would be nice to see them even knowing each other, let alone being father and son.

I'm sorry you're upset! I know it's rough when a show you really enjoy doesn't delve into the aspects you find most enjoyable or doesn't focus on the the parts that drew you to it in the first place. I've certainly struggled with the things the show has chosen to focus on in the past as well. I think I've just come to a place of acceptance that this show is working with limited time for characters while balancing the emergencies of the week and will just sometimes go in directions that aren't my favorite. and the fandom spaces are where we go to further explore the parts we wished got more emphasis or exploration.

Regarding this specific plot... I just don’t think they made that connection because frankly this episode wasn’t about TK being triggered. It was about Carlos needing to realize how precious his time with TK is and how much he needed to shift his priorities because of it. It was about TK recognizing signs of addiction and obsession within Carlos' behavior and doing his best to address those things in the most supportive and loving way possible. It was about the two of them as a unit working through their problems together. and I feel like they portrayed those things pretty well.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely think the show has made some clear parallels between Carlos and Owen. In fact, I made a whole gifset about it before the episode aired that you can find here! But they also already tied those two things together... in 4.18. Carlos and Owen had a scene together and Owen said the following to him:

"Let me tell you something about obsession. You might think it's sustaining you, that it's giving you purpose. But what it's really doing is just eating alive everything that is good in your life and believe me… eventually there's nothing good left."

Carlos' arc thus far this season has essentially been the same arc he went on in 4.18 but less condensed and with more room to breathe. and while I don't love that Carlos has basically ignored Owen's advice, I do fully understand the writers' choice to not recycle the story in the exact same way and have it involve Owen again.

As far as TK and Owen, it really feels like the arc with Jonah & Enzo coming to town in eps 7-9 are going to bring Owen and TK back into the same orbit and is going to result in some great scenes between the two of them. I personally cannot wait to see the full circle of their relationship from season one when TK told Owen that he became a firefighter because he wanted his father back (and Owen just steamrolled over it to defend himself) to this final season when they finally get to address those things and I think heal from them and come out the other side with a stronger father/son bond because of it. Hopefully you get to enjoy those things too!

[emilykaldwen]

Okay I have two very different anons in my inbox right now on the OC face claim issue. I’ve read both, and I’m just gonna address you both here:

1. No one OWNS a face claim. I have RPed in spaces where everyone was using a face for something (so many people using Holliday Granger and Elle Fanning for Helaena omg save me). It’s just a thing. They’re resources. The only thing we own is the character we’re writing. We do not own actors or musicians or whomever is being used to portray our character.

HOWEVER

2. When it comes to creating your OC, you should follow some courtesy. Do you see someone all over your dash using Freya Allen for, say, a Daemyra daughter? Then you would probably want to find another actor to portray your take on a Daemyra daughter. Not only are there a million faces out there, but it also helps you, the OC creator, from any weird comparison feelings, as well further separating your concepts from others.

When I was creating Myranda Greyjoy initially, I knew that there was another OC creator out there who also had a Greyjoy x Aemond situation going on (since Myra was going to initially end up with Aemond). I went and tracked down that creator’s old gifsets to ensure that I hadn’t accidentally lifted the name as well as making sure that the face I had chosen was different enough. Since we were both exploring a similar concept, I wanted to make sure I was differentiating myself from the other person.

I’m definitely new to the OC tumblr world, mostly because this wasn’t much of a thing back in the day, and I’m only vaguely familiar with all the history there. I don’t really play around in it that much, but here’s the thing: both the above truths can coexist because people are human. If someone were to use Isolda as one of Lyonel Strong’s daughters, that’s fine! It only becomes weird if say the other person was lifting character traits and things like that. Then THAT becomes a little more 👀

But I don’t own Isolda’s face, and it’s up to ME to be normal about that! Apparently she’s a popular face for Sansa Stark now! Good for her!

The point is: be courteous and mindful of the space you operate in. There’s a ton of Strong Bastards and Stark daughters using Adelaide Kane. There was a ton of Whatshername from TLK that was being used everywhere. You’re going to have overlap, but the use of the same face is not theft.

@selfproclaimedunicorn and I were both using Rose Williams for our own OCs (her for Lara Mormont and me for Myranda). Like it’s no biggie! We were also both using Isolda (her for a Reyne girl and me for Abby).

Totally different concepts. Different ‘roles’ if you will for that face claim.

Whenever I see Isolda on my dash I’m like ‘oh that’s Abby!’ Cause that’s my girl now. She’s Abby in my head.

Anyway, I can only speak for myself. I don’t think people should be nervous about asking about a face reference, but you should always be polite about it! If you’re messaging someone about the actor, compliment their gifset or post you saw, and then ask. Don’t just know on someone’s door and go ‘hey whose the face you’re using’ cause as a creator, that would make me feel sad that you had nothing nice to say about what I made.

[eddiegettingshot]

i'm sorry this is so long😭 i saw something and got annoyed lol

i feel mean saying it but some of the gifsets i'm seeing compiling all the convos from s6 about buck having to figure out whether he's at ease, having to find answers about happiness on his own, not knowing what he's looking for, feeling different after the lightning strike and not knowing how to act, etc. then framing the kiss and buck saying he's free as the resolution is almost comical to me. jumping into a new relationship is not gonna help any of that regardless of the person's gender! finding and defining what happiness means to you and what your identity is can certainly be related to exploring your sexuality but it's not a magic solution to all of your problems, esp when buck seems to have had no fucking clue he even wanted that until tommy kissed him. he's literally just running w something new and shiny atp. the fact that he spent an entire episode w literally no clue what was happening in his own head which culminated in acting like an idiot to the point of physically hurting his closest friend then uncharacteristically avoiding the issue entirely is also not a good sign in terms of him being at all closer to figuring any of this out for himself. god ppl recognized this immediately w natalia but are blind to it now - it's nice that ppl are excited and it was a good kiss but it's not a magic solution, it's buck continuing to avoid his problems.

no, you’re so right lmao. and like don’t get me wrong i understand why people are saying this, i understand the emotional connection, and i even understand that for some reason the show/writers want us to think that it is a magic solution…? i can’t fault anyone for feeling happy about this, i’m not interested in doing that.

but, like… if the question we’re focusing on for this season (which, whether i think this was the right question or not is a different story) is, why can’t buck keep a long-term romantic relationship? his sexuality is probably part of the answer, but it is far from the primary reason, which is closer to what you pointed out - buck has genuinely no fucking idea what he wants until someone decides for him, and that hasn’t changed at all. in fact, it’s gotten worse, because at least before his struggle to understand his own emotions didn’t end up with a loved one hurt.

there’s this weird narrative about tommy where everyone thinks he’s gonna heal buck or otherwise save buck from himself. but like, at this point, buck has zero agency in his relationships. he has zero interest in taking any agency in his relationships. tommy soothing his inner child is not gonna change that. literally nothing tommy has done has been different from anything that’s come before. i’m sure that they’ll say this is Different for the sake of the plot, but i maintain that buck should have been doing some self-reflection on his own. my ideal outcome is that after a few episodes, he comes to the conclusion that he had a good time, but he’s not ready to be in a relationship again (keep in mind he JUST broke up with natalia!!!) and tells tommy as much 🤷🏾‍♀️