#I guess we all needed time to process the thing

[elgaladwen]

I am not trying to fight with anyone here, because I know this is coming from a place of wanting to help with the current situation, but this is so silly that I have to say something. (And thank you to the people in the comments who note that this is also a common feature of Teams itself) I don't know all the details, so maybe I am missing something, but the way this is presented is seemingly just hearsay and fear-mongering over a normal business process. It's perfectly common in government (and I imagine in the private sector too) to be able to search through Teams chats, emails, or any other records (because yes, Teams chats are records) for keywords for legal and public disclosure, disciplinary actions, or a number of other reasons. As someone else in the comments also noted, they might have installed third party software to do this in a better or different way than Teams itself. (We use a third party program at work to search emails so that we can be more thorough than what's out of the box with Outlook, for example)

I guess this sounds weird if you've never worked for the government or for a big company who issues you a computer, but this is how it works. There isn't any expectation of privacy for anything said on work devices or though work channels. Usually it's less nefarious than this sounds, like you want to make sure you got everything for a public records request, or even just something like someone needs to look up something you talked about because they forgot, but it could also be to make sure you weren't doing something that you shouldn't. And I can't speak for every employee, but in my job, we are not allowed to talk about politics during work time, because we are supposed to represent all the people of my state and that silliness, so yeah, I could get in trouble for talking about Trump and Musk on work channels, and I can't imagine my state and agency is the only one like that.

Now yes, if some random dude is doing this separately from normal processes, that is bad. But this reads as if some employees only just realized that their computers can be monitored and searched. "Some federal employees say" and "some think" is not basis for fact. I'll try to see if I can figure out what, exactly, they're talking about, but regardless, i just want people to realize that this is a very common thing. There are many insane things Musk is doing that we can worry about, without adding red herrings.

Elon Musk's teenage hackers have inserted bots into the backend of the federal system so they can spy on government workers and sniff out any disloyalty to Felon47.

This is not only highly illegal but qualifies as an act of espionage and sedition.

Remember when First Felon accused Obama of spying on him through a microwave oven? Always a projection.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Forever Ain’t Long Enough

Paring: Glen Powell x Rockstar!Reader

Summary: Glen Powell and his rockstar love have been together for a decade, ever since they met on Scream Queens. Their relationship, once a well-kept Hollywood secret, is now making headlines—especially after their red carpet appearance at the Twisters premiere, where a certain ring was spotted. Now, sitting down for an exclusive interview ahead of her highly anticipated country comeback album, she finally confirms the rumors: not only did Glen propose, but they’re already married.

The camera flashes are still burned into her retinas. Last night, when they stepped onto the Twisters red carpet, she swore she heard the collective gasp from the press the second they noticed the ring. A decade together and somehow, they’d managed to keep this part a secret—until now.

“Alright,” the interviewer, a seasoned journalist with a warm smile, leans in with an air of intrigue. “Let’s start with the question on everyone’s mind. The Twisters premiere. The ring. Glen Powell finally putting a ring on the rockstar he’s been crushing on for ten years. Is it true?”

She laughs, shaking her head at the dramatics. “Oh, it’s true,” she admits, holding up her hand so the camera gets a good look at the diamond. “But we kinda forgot to tell people that we’ve actually been married for months.”

The interviewer’s jaw drops. “Wait—married? Glen Powell and his longtime rockstar girlfriend-turned-fiancée-turned-wife?”

She grins, nodding. “Yep.”

“Okay, hold on. You mean to tell me Glen Powell—Hollywood’s golden boy, America’s sweetheart—has been secretly married to you, country music’s newly returned queen, for how long?”

“Six months,” she confirms, sitting back against the leather chair. “We had a quiet ceremony on our ranch in Austin. Just family, some close friends, nothing crazy. I think after ten years together, we didn’t feel like we needed a spectacle. We just wanted us.”

The interviewer shakes her head in disbelief. “I need to process this. I feel like I’ve been lied to.”

She laughs again, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, we never lied. We just… didn’t correct anyone.”

“Unbelievable,” the interviewer mutters, then refocuses. “So, tell me—how did Glen propose? Because if this was under wraps, I’m guessing it wasn’t a public, get-down-on-one-knee-at-the-Oscars kind of thing.”

“Not even close,” she says, her smile softening. “It was at home, on the ranch. We were sitting on the porch, watching the sun go down, and he just—he pulled out the ring and said, ‘Ten years is a long time to wait, but forever still doesn’t feel like enough.’ And that was it. Simple. Perfect. Him.”

The interviewer sighs dramatically. “Well, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It really was,” she agrees, her fingers absentmindedly twisting her wedding ring. “And I know people always say ‘when you know, you know,’ but Glen—he’s always been it for me. Since day one. I think we both knew it, even when we were just kids messing around on Scream Queens.”

“So, does this mean the new album is about him?”

“Oh, yeah,” she confirms. “He’s all over this record. Every song, every lyric. It’s about the life we built together, the love we’ve grown into. It’s my love letter to him, to us, to Austin, to home. Making this album felt like coming back to myself.”

The interviewer sighs wistfully. “A secret wedding, a country comeback, and a husband who’s been in love with you since the minute he met you. You’re living the dream, girl.”

She grins, looking down at her ring before meeting the camera with a twinkle in her eye. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I really am.”

[foreignjaykay]

company (a jungkook fic)

part one - "you wish i'd miss you,"

company - a jungkook fic

can we keep each other company?

their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about to change?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, mean boss - yeah no she sucks, flirty!jk, dense af!jk, shy!oc, ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, yeah i guess thats it...for now hehe

notes: hello everyone!!! hehe its my first fic on tumblr and my first ever jk fic so i really hope you guys like it. im writing after so mant years so please ignore some mistakes. its kinda based on my experiences so yeah. its intentional whatever you are reading hauahahah, things will only get interesting as well progress.. lots of characters will come in the next chapter, this is just the base. It picks up from the second chapter!! anywho lets get into it!! <3

moodboard • playlist • series masterlist

The first thing you saw when you unlocked your phone this morning was a text from Jungkook. That in itself was weird—he wasn’t the type to be up this early, let alone texting people.

jaykay (work) [8:50am]: hi :)

you [8:50am]: oh my god. what did you forget?

jaykay (work)  [8:51am]: have some faith in me. i was texting for something entirely different. 😒

you[8:51am]: are you sick? held hostage? blink twice if you need help.

jaykay (work) [8:52am]: how da hell are u so dramatic in the morning

you [8:52am]: come to the point jungkook

jaykay [8:52am]: fine. 🙄 don’t bring lunch today

you [8:53am]: why?

jaykay (work) [8:53am]: lunch is on me. taking you, shane and mingyu out for ramen

you [8:53am]: 🤨🤨🤨

jaykay (work) [8:54am]: see you in office🥰

You squinted at the screen, trying to process the words through your morning haze. This man barely made it to work before noon on most days, always breezing in with an iced americano and a sheepish grin. And yet here he was, awake and making lunch plans at 9 AM? Suspicious. Very suspicious.

It’s fixed, you know? Him being late to work, getting sarcastic remarks from the bosses - Natasha, the reporting manager (god did she love micromanaging the team) and Kim Song, the director of your company.

But whatever, free ramen was free ramen and, on that note, you finally woke up and went to get ready for the weird day that was ahead of you.

By the time you got to the office, the usual chaos had already begun. Natasha, wasn’t physically present today, thank the lord for that, you thought, but her presence loomed over Zoom calls like a dark cloud. You had barely set down her bag before her laptop screen lit up with an incoming call. Does this woman ever chill?

“Good morning, team,” Natasha’s clipped voice rang out as the screen loaded. “Let’s go over the deliverables for today.” Her screen was hidden and she was on a holiday like she had very explicitly mentioned the week before she left.

You suppressed a groan as you saw Jungkook and Mingyu joining the call too. Shane, their CS intern, looked half-asleep. Jungkook, though, was oddly quiet, his usual playful banter nowhere to be seen. His leg bounced under the desk, fingers drumming against the tabletop.

You shot him a look, but he didn’t meet your eyes.

Okay that was weird, wasn’t it?

You looked towards Mingyu and Shane to see if they noticed Jungkook being a little off today but to your surprise they were engrossed on what Natasha was instructing on the upcoming event which was the luxurious Cartier dinner.

Classic Natasha, putting her work on us while she sips on pina coladas on the beach after this 10-minute meeting. You wanted to be as carefree as her sometimes, how easily she just threw her tasks on others.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jungkook which thankfully he didn’t notice.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

Jungkook knew you. He knew how curious you got sometimes and he also knew currently the wheels were turning in your head wondering why he was being so awkward. He smiled internally, thinking how much you knew him and how much he was going to miss you.

If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to crack. He just hoped you wouldn’t figure it out before he told you himself.

Once the meeting was over, you quickly went towards the design studio in the office, greeting Yuna and So-hee who seemed like had just come to office with the way they were switching on their systems for the day.

“I really need the final design renders for the stage setup and the seating plan for Cartier, Yuna,” You said worried knowing that if you don’t get these renders in next half an hour then the costing would delay and then Natasha…yeah no.

Its as if Jungkook got a sign, he entered the design studio greeting Yuna, So-hee, and Dae and standing next to you as if to ease the tension you had going on.

“Babe, give me 10 minutes, the renders are ready. I’ll email it to you, Natasha and Namjoon,” Yuna said as she started working on her system. You nodded your head and gave her a worried smile.

“Mark me in the email too,” Jungkook said instantly and you gave him a pointed look. Yuna seemed to mirror your thoughts and raised her eyebrows towards him.

Seeing that you both were confused, Jungkook chuckles and says, “__, you should be happy that I am willingly asking to be marked on emails,” which makes you roll your eyes playfully and smirk.

“Also, I don’t have nothing big going on currently, project wise, so I’ll follow up for the costings and Natasha will stay away from my ass,” Jungkook continues and laughs with Yuna, So-hee and Dae.

You looked at him as he was sort of back in his carefree self but something still felt off. You just couldn’t put your finger on what this feeling was.

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. The second Natasha’s second call for the day wrapped up the call, you shut your laptop and turned towards Jungkook who along with Mingyu and Shane was joking and was waiting for you to get done.

“Okay, spill. What’s with the mystery since today morning?” You immediately asked him and he couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

Mingyu slung an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, dude. You’re making me nervous.”

Shane, ever the observer, just raised a brow. “Is this about work? God I can’t wait to dig into some good ramen after hearing Natasha ramble since past 15 mins. 15 mins with her feel like 2 hours,” Shane continued rambling earning laughs from the three of you.

Jungkook let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get to lunch first.”

That didn’t help your growing suspicion, but you let it slide—at least until the 4 of you reached the ramen place.

The aroma of rich broth and sizzling garlic filled the tiny ramen shop. Shane and Mingyu were already practically vibrating with hunger, menus discarded, ready to order. You, however, were still scanning the options, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. Just as you were about to decide, you and Jungkook spoke in unison: “Japchae.”

A surprised laugh bubbled up. “You wanna have japchae too?” you asked, a little thrill of connection sparking despite the weirdness of the morning. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, and ordered for both of you.

Minutes later, steaming bowls of ramen and the shared plate of japchae arrived. The savory scent made your mouth water. You took a tentative bite of the japchae, the noodles perfectly chewy, the vegetables crisp and flavorful. It was delicious. But Jungkook just sat there, chopsticks hovering over his bowl. He had a strange expression—not quite annoyed, but… something. You knew that look. It was his tell when food was exceptionally good. That’s just his weird trait.

You took the second bite yourself to see if it was and it was really good.

“I got another job.”

Silence.

Your stomach dropped.

Then, Mingyu blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, avoiding their gazes. “I got an offer from an event company. They handle production for A-list musicians—concerts, world tours, all of it.” But you could see how proud he was. This was his dream.

“Oh, shit, that’s huge,” Shane said, eyes wide and dramatically keeping his chopsticks on the side.

Jungkook looked at you trying to gauge for your reaction.

You swallowed, gripping your chopsticks a little tighter. “Wow. That’s… incredible, Jungkook.” You said genuinely but why did it feel so off? Why did it feel like you were losing everything? People leave jobs all the time and this is no different, so why was it feeling all to different suddenly?

When you congratulated him, you meant it. You really did. He deserved this. But there was a weird, hollow feeling in your chest. Something tight that you couldn’t quite name.

Jungkook was watching you and asked, “You okay?”

You forced a smile but to everyone it looked genuine. “Of course. This is a big deal. I am so happy for you, Jungkook!” Mingyu and Shane mirrored your smile and congratulated him to which Jungkook threw an honest smile.

His eyes still lingered for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to his food. But you could tell he didn’t fully believe you.

Mingyu and Shane immediately started asking him the questions about his new company and the new job and Jungkook excitedly answered them all and you were interested too to know all the details.

Once the 4 of you were done with the lunch, you asked him, “So when are you telling Natasha?”

“Next week, and then 2 weeks’ notice,” He said looking at you as if he was trying to find an emotion out of you.

“Damn bro, you are leaving us so soon.” Shane said and you looked at Jungkook.

“Now at least I will have some proper desk space at the office,” You tried to joke which earned you a playful eye roll from Jungkook.

“Oh my god, I have to plan a farewell party for you now,” Mingyu joked and you laughed. For the whole lunch, this is the first time Jungkook noticed you genuinely smiling and it was all thanks to Mingyu’s dramatic nature.

The rest of the workday felt strangely off-balance. Even though nothing had technically changed yet, you felt the weight of the upcoming shift pressing down on you. The knowledge that soon, Jungkook wouldn’t be here anymore—wouldn’t be there to roll his eyes at Natasha’s ridiculous demands, wouldn’t be crashing at her desk with an iced coffee and a new piece of gossip, wouldn’t be around to share those unspoken glances when things got too absurd.

You had started hating how much that realization unsettled you.

It was Jungkook who got you out of your dazed thoughts when he said, “___, I have asked Namjoon hyung for the Cartier costing and he is working on it,”

You threw a sincere smile towards him and nodded while he went back on his desk and worked on some small projects he had going on.

gyu (work) [3pm]: are you okay?

Once you read the text, you immediately looked at him but he acted to be so engrossed in his work and you couldn’t help but look back into your phone and text back

you [3:01pm]: yeah, why?

gyu (work) [3:01pm]: you sure about that? ever since jk dropped that bomb, you have been quiet and so has he.

That got your attention. Were you that obvious?

you [3:02pm]: no nothing like that. im happy that he got this. he deserves it!! also when is the blue label bottle engraving costing going to the client? natasha has been on my ass about it since morning. send it asap please <33

gyu [3:03pm]: girl i gotta give it to you, nice attempt to change the convo but we aren’t done yet. ugh why are you my senior? im sending it in 5

By the time the day ended and finally the costings for Cartier had gone out (thanks to Jungkook and Joon), you had convinced yourself you were just being dramatic. People left jobs all the time. This wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

Mingyu and Shane had already left for the day and the design studio was also empty leaving only you and Jungkook in the client servicing department. For a Monday, people had left earlier than usual, you thought to yourself.

You looked at the clock and saw it was 7pm already.

While you packed your bags, like routine, Jungkook waited for you. He dropped you home everyday given that you both lived nearby and your apartment came on the way to his.

However, the silence between the two of you felt heavier than usual.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said as the two of you entered the elevator.

You forced a laugh and adjusted your purse, trying to look anywhere but at him. “So are you.”

The two of you exited the elevator and sat in his car, he started the engine. For the first time ever, the silence between the two of you was uncomfortable.

Jungkook sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he took the familiar route and said, “Are you really happy for me?”

You immediately turned to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Yes, I am. Why would you think I am not?”

His smile was small, a little sad. “Alright. You and I haven’t spoken much since lunch,”

You didn’t know why, but something in your chest ached at that. But you ignored it,  and looking towards and giving him a smile and said, “Jungkook, I am so happy for you. I am. I know you wanted this and now you have it,”

For the first time in the whole day, he smiled genuinely at you.

“Will you miss me?,” He asked as he stopped the car right out of your apartment and looked at you with his doe eyes that carry the sta-

Wait what?!

You ignored whatever that thought was and quickly composed yourself and laughed at him. “You wish I would miss you,” You joked playfully and he rolled his eyes.

“On a serious note, yes I will. Who will I tolerate Natasha with?” You continued and he let out a small chuckle.

“Anyway I have to go. See you tomorrow boss,” you finally said, and then you were gone, disappearing into the building.

Jungkook sat there for a moment, staring after you.

He knew you better than you thought. He knew when you were genuinely happy, when you were just pretending, when you were holding back something you didn’t want to say. And tonight, you were definitely holding back.

Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the car seat. Leaving this job was supposed to be exciting, a step up, an opportunity of a lifetime. And it was.

But why did it feel like he was losing something, too?

© foreignjaykay

[fuctacles]

If you saw the snippets where i fucked up the timeline no u didnt.

<< 16 | 0 | 18 >>

"What's his name?" Steve asks, playing with the bunny's paw. The only time he let go of him since last night was to use the bathroom.

"Frankenbunny," Eddie answers, and smiles when Steve snorts after hearing it. "My grandma made him from fabric scraps grandpa would bring from work. I've made the vest, though." He stretches and blinks his eyes open properly, in time to see Steve's impressed expression.

"Really?"

"Well, Wayne helped," he added. "It's actually made from the same jacket I turned into my vest." 

"Oh, that's so cool!" Steve turns the bunny around to take a better look at the details. The tiny vest even has frayed edges and Dio stitched on the back. "You guys match."

Eddie snorts. 

"Yeah, we're both full of stitches," he points out dryly. 

Steve hums, pressing the toy closer to his face. It's something he's done before sleep, too, but last night Eddie wrote it off as a drunken mirage.

"And both pretty handsome fellas," he says, face half-hidden behind the bunny. He opens one eye, looking from under his eyelashes shyly, trying to gauge Eddie's reaction. 

Which, Eddie would love to know and understand as well.

"Oh, I don't know," he shrugs, reaching out to poke at Frankenbunny's face. "He doesn't have the signature Munson dimples." When in doubt, joke, as the Denial Decalogue says. 

Steve hums. 

"Yeah, I guess he can't hold a candle to the real thing. Not as talkative, for one."

Eddie can't help but stare, still leaning over his friend as he processes what he's heard. 

"You like my constant yapping?" he asks in surprise. Even his uncle seems tired of it, at times. Only his players appreciate his word flow, but that's with benefit to them.

"Of course." Steve focuses his attention back on the toy. "When you talk, I don't have to, I can just listen. And that's good because I tend to say some stupid shit," he says, almost absentmindedly. "This way, I'm not the dumb one in the room for once."

The casual innocence of his voice makes the meaning of his words miss Eddie completely until the air waves hit his other ear. 

"Oh, you little..."

As Steve's cheeky smirk grows, he pounces. 

Frankenbunny falls away, the hands holding him now focused on guarding all the ticklish spots. 

"Eddie!" Steve laughs, trying to grasp his wrists and squirm away. "We need to be quiet." 

"Should have though of it before being a brat!" Eddie grins at him, doubling his efforts and moving to pin him in place. 

Steve makes a distressed sound and writhes under him, bending hard enough it dislodges Eddie off of him but also, off the bed. He falls down with a surprised squeak.

"Sorry!" Steve barely suppresses his laugh when he looks down at him. "You alright?"

"No," Eddie groans, splayed on the floor. "I got back-stabbed."

"The dramatics are intact, you'll be fine," he rolls his eyes and steps over him. Eddie makes an even more wounded sound, but Steve ignores him, choosing to look for something comfy to wear instead. He throws a tshirt that doesn't smell of barbecue at Eddie's face, mistakenly assuming that's it—they are going to leave his bedroom and start on breakfast for the others. 

Wrong.

As soon as he has a pick of clothes in his hand, and is trying to get to the bathroom, Eddie grabs his ankle. He makes an undignified yelp and lands on the other boy. Which, serves him well. 

They roll on his carpet in an impromptu wrestling match, grinning at each other and muffling their laughs, trying to get the upper hand. 

Until Steve snaps his teeth at Eddie.

They freeze, two pairs of wide eyes staring at the other in silence. 

Steve moves first, backing away and almost falling over Eddie's knees. 

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he explains quickly, scrambling to get off his friend. Eddie doesn't stop him, just stares openly at the mesmerizing specimen in front of him.

"That was so fucking hot."

"I don't know why I did—what?" Steve sits back on his haunches, eyes even wider as he stares at Eddie. At his wild hair splayed around his head, at his flushed face. The sliver of skin visible where his shirt has ridden up while they were roughhousing. 

"What?" he parrots, licking his lips nervously. 

"What did you just say?" Steve presses, voice turning desperate, pressing. But Eddie seals his mouth into a tight line. Lead by a hunch, he looks for his answer down the line of his body.

"Hey!" Eddie protests, sitting up and pulling his shirt down. But it was too late, the tent in his pants has been seen. "What the fuck, man?!" he hisses, his face red and eyes wide in panic. 

"Sorry, I—" Steve bites his lip. "But I snapped at you? That's weird, right?"

"Well, I'm apparently into weird, so..." Eddie trails off, looking away. Pointedly avoiding Steve's searching eyes. 

"You're into it?" he prods, but all Eddie can give him is a shrug. It's too fresh of a feeling to properly explain. Hell, he hasn't full came to terms with it himself yet. 

"Is it like a... a sex thing?" Steve tries again. 

"Maybe? Probably? I don't know!" Eddie snaps defensively, folding in on himself to hide his thankfully wilting erection. 

Steve's silence is terrifying, and when he looks up, he finds his eyes still studying him.

"Quit staring, man," he mumbles, squeezing his thighs together. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." Steve shakes his head. "It's fine, it happens. But just... don't move for a second."

"It happens," Eddie is muttering mockingly, when the rest of his friend's words register in his brain. "What?" But Steve is already too close, and he can't escape. Not that he wants to. "Steve," he says quietly, between a warning and a plea, when warm breath hits his neck.

Steve is sniffing him. At the crook of his neck, where undoubtedly his embarrassment has gathered in a pool of sweat.

He's terrified in a way that has nothing to do with fear. Worried what Steve might smell on him, when his surprisingly cold nose brushes his skin. 

Or maybe it's him running hot with whatever has just transpired. 

Eddie flinches at the touch and Steve moves away, his eyes big and warm with something he can't read. 

"You're fine," he says, and it sounds more like a relief of his own than reassurance for Eddie. "I'm into weird too."

Eddie looks at him quizzically, until he realizes it's not Steve's face holding his answers. He trails his gaze down, and immediately aims it back upward, over-correcting towards the heavens, where maybe he'll get some guidance.

"Shit," he croaks out from his closed up throat. Steve is way too close to him too, from his impromptu sniffing session. Eddie coughs to clear his airways. "Why did you smell me? Is it that bad?" he jokes, but has a feeling Steve won't take the out. Not with the curious way he's looking at him. 

"You smell like want," he answers with painful honesty. "Embarrassment."

Eddie blushes at that one. Well, yeah. Popping a boner in front of your, uh, something, will do that to a man.

"But also joy, affection," Steve continues. "And no fear."

"Why would I fear you? We were just playing around. It's not like you're gonna bite me," he focuses on the safest option. He's not unpacking his feelings for Steve first thing in the morning. Maybe after a coffee. 

It's Steve's turn to go beet red. 

"Sometimes I want to."

"What?" 

He shuffles back sheepishly. 

"Sometimes I see you and I really, really wanna bite you."

Eddie stares at him.

"In like, a werewolf way?" he asks dumbly, earning himself a flat look.

"I think we've established this is not how werewolves are made. I meant in, like, a playful way," he explains. "Like, I'm so excited and happy I can't hold it in anymore, way."

He wants to ask if it's a pack thing, but bites his tongue, not sure if anyone has even taught Steve pack rituals. The guy is going through pure instincts alone, and should be supported in it, so really, there's only one thing he can say.

"Well, why won't you?"

They stare at each other in stunned silence, until a clatter comes from downstairs.

"Steeeeve! The express is doing it again!"

Eddie deflates with a groan, falling back onto the carpet. What the fuck did he just say? He won't survive this crush. Steve will be no help, as he's now hovering over his body.

"We'll get back to this," he says quietly, in a promise or a warning, before clambering upright and out of the room, yelling at Robin.

"Do not press the fucking button!"

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot @dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1 @stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible @bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets @ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight  @eyehartart @ellietheasexylibrarian @im-sam-fucking-winchester

[supercimi]

This drabble is inspired by this art by @dharmaart

Old friend

The passing times and years has taught me, many lessons.

Some cruel, other kind, all the time, every time.

There was always a lesson to be taught, be it with people, places, plants and especially with animals.

Although, I wouldn't know what any of it looks like, but I learned to guess its shape. However much I could

My hands would cradle every inch. Sometimes, I would hug what I could, if simply to gauge its size.

This method proved great with people and animals, but. It was pretty useless with some plants and constructions

Flowers felt incredibly soft while trees felt incredibly harsh, but much like constructions, I couldn't make out their proper size nor shape

Also, I can't gauge how big a house is by hugging it! I'm no giant!

But, what made me the happiest, is how easy it was to picture you my friend.

Your long mane and stout back, your goofy face and lively ears.

Although we couldn't speak the same language, I got you, and I felt that you got me as well.

Learning how to care for you was pretty hard, but not harder than getting to know you.

All those puzzling brushes you needed were nothing compared to your mischief!

Whenever I would pat your back, you would simply move until I was patting your head!

And whenever I needed to pick your hoofs, you would keep pulling them back every five minutes!

My dad told me that since you learned you could pull it back from me mid grooming, there was no stopping you from that trick, and he was right!!

Still, despite all those challenges, I cared for you myself!

At first, I needed someone to guide me through it, but time after time, I slowly got the hang of it, even if I couldn't see a thing.

All my life, I lived in dimmed night, I couldn't grasp any shape no matter how the others describe it to me, even when I cradled or hugged or touched whatever they described, it was simply a vague fog to my mind,

The only thing i could picture, is you.

Maybe it was all those times i needed to brush your mane, or the many times i walked by your side on the grounds, or even the playful moments when you would roll on the ground and gently tug me to your side.

Somehow or someway.

I knew how you looked like,

I was never someone to dabble in creative stuff, especially drawing, but just for today, i decided to draw how i pictured you to be.

As hard as it proved to be, I also found out how easily you come to mind. It made the process a little easier on my clumsy hands.

Even if i never saw you, even if i can never touch you again,even if we can't play together again.

In this piece of parchment, your memories will always stay. And last but not least, thank you, old friend.

For staying with me all this time, for trotting around with me all this time, it's okay now, it's alright now.

I still can't fathom having a partner other than you, but... little by little, I'm moving on

In my heart, i still pray that someday, a maybe far away someday, or who knows maybe a very near someday?

I pray that we meet again

Maybe then, i will be able to actually see you. To play with you and hug you, to give you all the scratches that you so love.

For all eternity, but, until then.

Goodbye, old friend.

A study of a horse drawn with pencil on paper

[narumi-gens]

Triptych | "Fate put us on the same path."

Chisaki Kai x f!Reader

summary: Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

chapter warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, yandere, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, complicated family dynamics, codependency, daddy issues, abandonment issues, reader says "faults" but should really be saying "red flags" lol

notes: this is from a non-chronological series so the parts can be read (mostly) on their own or in any order. someone left the nicest comment on this fic on ao3 and I felt like I needed to update this fic, so this is your regular psa on the importance of leaving comments!

words: 2.2k

SERIES MASTERLIST

minors, blank, and ageless blogs do not like, comment, or reblog

The Middle

You’re having trouble breathing. You’re having literal trouble breathing. 

The shiromuku is so heavy and tied so tightly that it feels like each breath you take requires a monumental effort. There’s an ache forming in your shoulders from the pure weight of it all. You’ve spent so much of your life in kimono that you can put one on blindfolded. But this? This wedding kimono is another beast entirely. 

“It’s a bit tight,” you wince, causing the two women currently in the process of tying the obi around your middle in an extravagant knot to softly titter. 

“I know. It’s all a bit cumbersome,” the older woman in front of you commiserates before smiling at you so kindly that it alleviates your discomfort for a brief moment. “But it’s worth it. You look beautiful, just as every bride should. Your husband is a lucky man.”

You let out a noncommittal hum, which is cut short by a soft grunt when the woman behind you gives your obi a particularly harsh yank. 

“How did the two of you meet?” she asks, trying to distract you from how uncomfortable you feel as they continue to tie you up in beautiful silk. 

“We grew up together,” you reply, deciding the simplest answer is the easiest. 

“Ah, so fate put you both on the same path,” she observes with a soft smile and her words have you suddenly feeling breathless for a reason entirely unrelated to the thick layers of fabric wrapped around you.

“I guess so,” you murmur, but before you can lose yourself in your thoughts, you wince when your obi is given one final tug.

“There we go,” the older attendant behind you declares proudly as she adjusts the obi knot. As difficult as it physically is to do so, you sigh with relief knowing that the fussing is almost over. It’s been over an hour by this point. “All that’s left is the uchikake.”

One of the women lifts up the final and thickest layer that will be worn over your kimono. You reach out to gently trace the beautiful designs embroidered on the white silk. As your finger follows the outline of a crane’s beak, you can’t help the frown that forms on your lips.

“Can we take a break?” you ask and there’s a pause at your unexpected request. 

“O-of course,” the attendant in front of you says as she carefully places the uchikake back in its box before she and the other woman leave the room. 

When you hear the door close behind you, your posture droops as much as it can in such a restrictive kimono. Instinctively, you tug at the collar to try and loosen it slightly at the neck only to immediately worry that you’ve ruined the women’s hard work. 

You turn towards the room’s floor-length mirror and feel a rush of relief when you see that the collar appears untouched. Your eyes then drift to take in your full reflection for the first time and your lips part slightly in surprise.

So much of your life has been dictated by tradition — from the way you were raised to the clothing you had been made to wear to the marriage that your father tried to arrange for you — that the last thing you wanted was a traditional Shinto wedding ceremony. However, as you see how beautiful the shiromuku is, and how elegant you look in it, you’re in awe. 

But the longer you look at yourself, the more reality begins to set back in until the small frown on your face is reflected at you in the mirror. Without the distraction of the two women dressing you in such an elaborate garment, all you’re left with is the image of someone you don’t recognize — or rather the image of a future that you never envisioned for yourself. 

Eventually, the reflection becomes too much and you turn away from it to look out the window into the shrine’s gardens. When you see how dreary the weather is as it continues to rain like it’s been doing all morning, you sigh and rest your forehead against the glass. Your fingertip follows the path of a raindrop as it runs down the window’s surface and you absently wonder if the weather is a poor omen for your marriage. 

Not that an omen would matter now, considering you and Kai have already filed your paperwork and have been legally married for weeks. This ceremony is just that — ceremonial. So you’re not what it is that has you feeling so out of sorts.

Maybe it’s the chaos of the last months. Your mind has been a mess as you’ve tried to navigate your grief for your father, your guilt over not having returned home sooner, your indecisiveness about what you were going to do next, and your conflicting feelings toward marrying Kai.

You hear the door open behind you and brace yourself for the gentle scolding that you’re about to receive from one of the attendants for wrinkling your kimono with your slouched posture. You drop your hand to your side with a soft sigh.

“Can I have just another minute or two?” you ask, not quite ready to bear the weight of the thick uchikake that they’ve come to drape you in. 

But when you look over your shoulder, it’s not the attendants who have entered — it’s Kai. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him in his montsuki haori hakama. While you of course knew what a groom wore during a Shinto ceremony, seeing Kai in the outfit stuns you. With the black haori, matching kimono, and striped hakama, he looks every bit the part of the Hassaikai’s wakagashira. 

He’s always looked good in the suits he wears, but there’s something about seeing him dressed so traditionally that makes your cheeks feel warm. When your gaze finally returns to his face, you’re relieved that he’s chosen to wear a simple black face mask like you’re accustomed to seeing him in rather than the beak-like one that you detest.

As your eyes meet his, you give him a weak smile and turn back to the window. His steps are soft against the tatami as he moves to join you.

“It’s raining,” you needlessly point out with a small frown. 

“Rain washes things clean,” he replies and somehow, the simple statement manages to put you slightly at ease. Silence settles over you both and the longer that it stretches on, the louder you hear the attendant’s words echoing in your head.

“One of the women said something when she was dressing me,” you eventually blurt out. When you hesitate, he gives you a hum to continue. “She said fate put us on the same path.”

Even without looking at him, you can tell that the sentiment pleases him. 

“She’s right. This is where you belong.” It’s such an expected response that you would feel annoyed if your mind wasn’t already so preoccupied.

“With the Hassaikai?” you gently scoff.

“With me,” he’s quick to answer, his firm tone giving you pause. 

You glance at him to find that his attention is already focused on you rather than the view of the garden. The weight of his gaze feels almost as heavy as your shiromuku and when you can no longer meet it, you look back out the window.

“How…” you begin before trailing off. You hesitantly bite your lip as you consider your words. “How do you think Dad will react when he finds out we’re married?”

You try not to linger on how your question is predicated on the optimistic assumption that your father will wake from his coma. When Kai doesn’t immediately answer you, you sigh.

“He’ll probably be happy,” you say dryly. “All that work he did to force me into marrying a yakuza and he got what he wanted in the end.”

An unexpected wave of exhaustion overwhelms you, and you bring a tired hand to your forehead. You’re certain that right now, you’re the antithesis of a blushing bride. 

“I told the old man I would marry you.”

Your hand drops at the sudden admission and when you turn to him with wide eyes, you find that he’s now looking out the window. 

“When he tried to marry you off, marry you away, I told him that you should marry me.” His frown is hidden beneath his mask, but you can see the tension lining his eyes. “But he said no.”

The questions come to you in a flurry. Why did your father turn him down? Why didn’t Kai tell you? How long has he been planning this? Has he been waiting years to marry you? How different would your life be if you had married him? Does any of it really matter now that you are married?

But with all of the questions that your mind is racing with, there’s one that comes to the surface. Is he in love with you? 

You feel stupid for thinking it. It’s a dumb thing for a wife to wonder about her husband, even if the labels are still new. But mostly, the idea of love is something that you’ve never considered of Kai. 

You’re not so naive as to think that his intentions toward you have only ever been chaste or innocent. In fact, innocent is a word you would never use to describe him. He’s spent enough nights in your bed over the years for you to know that he’s attracted to you on at least a physical level. 

Likewise, you’re not blind to his faults. He’s a dangerous man who does violent work. He’s obstinate to a frustrating degree. And his nature has always been possessive — of the Shie Hassakai’s power and reputation, of the territory that he perceives as rightfully theirs, and of you. 

Maybe for him, that is love.

And he’s always watched over you. He’s protected you. He never abandoned you. He kept you from harm. That’s more important than something as ephemeral as love could ever be. 

“What were you going to do? If I ended up married to some other yakuza?” you finally ask. When Kai turns to face you, you’re unsurprised by the dark look in his eyes.

“I would have killed him.” His response is a threat, but there’s no heat or anger in his tone. He tells you his plan to free you from a forced marriage with the same sort of indifference he would if he were telling you the sky is blue. 

You should probably be horrified that he’s talking so easily about murdering someone. But the tears that you can feel beginning to form aren’t from fear. You take a step toward him and close the gap between you before dropping your forehead to his chest. A gloved hand immediately comes up to rest on the back of your neck and keep you close.

“Always looking out for me, huh?” you murmur with a wet laugh, a faint smile tugging at your lips. He gives your neck a reassuring squeeze. 

Ever since you first brought Kai to your father all those years ago, he’d treated him like the son he never had. You had seen him look past Kai’s flaws as easily as you always have. But if his adopted son had openly gone against him to kill the man he intended for you to marry, you don’t know what he would have done. 

He was willing to risk it all to keep you safe. If that isn’t love, then you’re not sure what is — you don’t care what it is. To you, it’s everything. 

You clutch the fabric on his haori in a pitiful attempt to tug him closer. Despite your best efforts, you can feel a tear escape and roll down your cheek. You quickly brush it away with another sniffle.

Once you no longer feel like you’re about to shed any further tears, you lift your head, although his hand on your nape doesn’t let you go far. Slowly, your hand releases its grip on him and you run your palm over the material to smooth over any wrinkles you may have caused.

Your gaze settles on the symbol embroidered over his chest — the Shie Hassaikai’s emblem in place of where a family crest would traditionally be. You carefully trace the white thread.

“You know, it suits you,” you tell him with a soft smile. You glance up at him and nod meaningfully to his haori, the one in the style of the Shie Hassaikai’s kumicho. With an affectionate touch, you then straighten the front of his kimono, although it’s a needless gesture. You then give him a gentle push. “Get out of here. I have to finish getting ready.”

[sombra-conlangs]

Conlang year 2025 · Day 1 - 4

I decided to try out @quothalinguist's conlang year, it is basically a series of daily prompts that guide you through the process of creating a new language, by the end of the year you will end up with a conlang that is developed enough to participate in relays and lexember, you can find it on quothalinguist.com

It looks like conlang year is mostly geared towards creating languages that are naturalistic and evolved from a proto-language, and the concept I have for this is not going to really fit into that, you'll see why once I start describing it, but I don't imagine that'll be too much of an issue, it's still useful to have a guide for the different aspects of the language I should focus on. I'll try to adapt the prompts to work with my idea and I guess I'll skip the ones that I can't figure out how to adapt.

I'll be combining many prompts together into single posts for convenience, I'll tag these posts as both #Conlang year and #Conlang year 2025 so you can search those in my blog to see them all if you want (once I name the language I will also add it to the tags, but the language doesn't have a name yet).

If you want to see all of the information from these posts compiled into one place I will be adding all of the information about the conlang I create on my website: tekseni.bearblog.dev

Day 1: Set an intention for your language

(warning: this gets a bit heavy, but I try not to make it too dour)

I haven't been feeling great lately, I won't go into details, I'll just say that it can be difficult to manage your emotions when the world seems to be in such a terrible state, living through historical events is not easy.

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

I know there's some people who say you have to be constantly staying informed on every bit of news because if you don't you're a bad person, but that's not a sustainable way to live. It's important for us to keep ourselves sane, if you're going to help others through turbulent times you have to make sure you have your own feet on firm ground. I won't be of much help if I'm having a crisis, so taking care of my own mental health is important, and for many of us that can include a bit of escapism and using art as an outlet, using art as motivation to keep going and enjoy life despite the circumstances. This conlang is my escapism.

With all of that being said, here's my 2 main goals for this conlang:

1: I want this language to make me smile

I want to create something that helps me to find some beauty and hope in the world, I want the choices I make with the language to make me smile, and I want to be able to have fun while working on it, without having to worry too much about how naturalistic it is or anything like that, so ideally I'd also avoid comparing this to other conlangs.

If we compare this to visual art, I'd say this is less like trying to create an awesome painting with perfect perspective, colors and composition, and it's more like me doodling in a sketchbook that is meant primarily for me, but I also want to share it with others in case they find it to be at least mildly interesting or it helps inspire them in some way.

It's not like my other conlangs don't bring me joy, I guess what I'm trying to say is that this time I will try to design the language without worrying about things like naturalism or trying too hard to make my worldbuilding interesting or deep, it's just a canvas where I can throw paint and let myself go wild, trying out things I normally wouldn't, and making choices based on my personal preferences instead of what I think I "should" do, so I guess that makes this is a personal language.

2: This is going to be a surrealistic conlang

I have already decided who the speakers of my language will be, I'll elaborate more in the following prompts but I currently call them "dream angels" because they're basically benevolent beings that exist in the world of dreams, and because of this I want to try my hand at making a surrealistic conlang, @dedalvs wrote an essay on fiat lingua about what such a language might look like, and I keep coming back to it every now and then because I love the concept.

Even before that essay was posted I remember thinking of what conlangs might look like if they were inspired by different art movements, and a surrealistic one fits particularly well into the dream world idea, it will also allow me to fulfill my first goal fairly easily; making something that makes me smile without having to worry about naturalism and letting myself experiment. I've always been drawn to surrealism for one reason or another, not entirely sure why but I know this is something I'm excited to work on.

I'm not expecting this to be the best surrealistic conlang out there, but it doesn't have to be, it just has to be fun for me, and it will work as a learning experience regardless, so if I want to try again at some point I will have a better idea of how to approach it. I'm sure someone out there will make an amazing surrealistic conlang one day and I'll be excited to see it when it happens.

Day 2: Set an intention for sharing your language

Basically the main audience is me, I hope that future me will be able to look at all the different translations, grammar choices and vocabulary I made and feel like it's a fun language that still brings me some joy in some way or another, even if I don't keep working on it for much longer after the conlang year has ended at least I hope it was a positive experience.

I also want to share the language online (on this blog and on my conlang website) mostly because I'm hoping that at least one person is going to look at my conlang and feel inspired, or maybe it will make them smile too, so I'm going to try to describe all the features in a way that is understandable for other conlangers.

Day 3: Determine your speakers and conworld

The basic idea is that there is another plane of existence, one we can't see when we're awake, and the world where dreams exist is connected to this other realm, so when we dream we sometimes come into contact with the ethereal beings that speak this language, and they are kind and loving.

The dream angels usually don't interfere with human affairs too much, but they sometimes help us by making nightmares go away and soothing the people they see, at least while the people are asleep (since they can't interact with us outside of dreams).

They also shift the way they speak to be a bit more familiar to the person they're encountering, so I imagine the phonology of their language might shift a bit from its default form depending on what your native language is, the language would still be unintelligible to you but it would sound a bit like someone speaking your L1 in a weird way (which also means that it will be easier for you to pronounce the language if you are able to speak back at them because you will at least get to use sounds you already know how to pronounce, though you're welcome to pronounce it in its original form).

These beings are very surreal in their appearance, there's probably different types of dream angels but the ones I'll be working with are kind of like a mix of various sea creatures, drifting through space peacefully, building all sorts of things and admiring the nature that exists in their world.

I imagine their settlements are built on floating islands full of all sorts of critters and nature, and their world as a whole is probably a bit weird and doesn't always seem to follow logical rules, in keeping with the kind of things you see in dreams, so they might look a bit like something you'd see in an M.C. Escher artwork, where you're not exactly sure what you're looking at, but it has a certain beauty to it.

Day 4: Describe (or design) your speakers

And finally here's a picture I drew of a prototypical dream angel:

They might look a bit intimidating or scary to you, but I chose to take inspiration mostly from various sea creatures because they help to convey this kind of ethereal and weirdly beautiful aesthetic, when I look at jellyfish I often wonder how those are living beings that exist in our world, they look more like they're inanimate objects drifting in the water and yet they're alive, and they're so mesmerizing and fascinating, like a living nebula.

I imagine different dream angels would have different characteristics, but in general they're basically like some sort of jellyfish with 3 main tentacle-like appendages, many thin tendrils, 6 insect-like arms, 6 little wings (because it makes them look a bit more angelic lol) and they have one eye, but no human has ever seen their eyes because it is always covered by something, in this case it's a butterfly, but whatever is covering their eye it does not prevent them from seeing, this is the dream world after all.

I think there might be other types of dream angels, and they're all able to speak a human-like language because they don't need a mouth to speak, they just telepathically send sounds to other beings, so the speakers of my language will be characterized by being similar to sea creatures, perhaps there's other dream angels that are more similar to other types of animals, or inanimate objects, maybe some are just completely out there and don't even look like anything we're familiar with as humans. By the way if you feel inspired to design your own dream angels go ahead! I think it'd be nice if I was able to inspire creativity in others with my work.

I'm also choosing to use a human-pronounceable phonology because I enjoy pronouncing the words and sentences of my conlangs, but perhaps at some other point I will make a different register of the language that uses different noises as phonemes, maybe sounds of water and nature, or maybe something like one of those really peaceful synths, after all their phonology is not limited by their physiology or even things like logic.

But anyway that's it for now, I feel a bit vulnerable putting myself out there so much, this feels a bit more personal than my other conlangs I've shared, it's not like a regular fantasy worldbuilding project or a fanlang or an a posteriori language, this one is very out there and weird, but again I want to share it in case other people find it interesting, and hey, we need more examples of surrealistic conlangs, so I'm more than happy to contribute to that.

[reveriebae]

Backseat

pairing(s) : Choi Jongho x reader

word count : 3238

summary : You and Jongho share a passionate encounter in his car after meeting at a club. Weeks later, you reconnect and end up in a hotel room, unable to resist each other’s chemistry.

genre : smut

warning(s) : sexual scenes, possessiveness, intense emotions, some manipulation, and power dynamics between the characters. Let me know if I missed anything!

part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐 smut under the cut 🪐

The club was packed, the bass vibrating through your body as you pushed through the crowd, trying to find your friends. The flashing lights cast shadows that made the place feel like a dream, and the air was thick with heat, sweat, and the undeniable energy of the night. You weren't here to find someone. You weren’t even looking for anything in particular, just the thrill of the music and the company of your friends.

But then your eyes locked with his.

Jongho. You hadn't seen him around before, but that didn't matter. There was something about him—the way he moved through the crowd with ease, the way his eyes found you immediately, like he was meant to. His smirk was sly, confident, the kind that said he knew exactly what he wanted, and he wanted you.

You’d met at some point, but not enough to truly know each other. His friends had been chatting with yours, and in the midst of some random conversation, he'd slipped his way into your thoughts. Now, the tension in the air was undeniable. You could feel him looking at you, his gaze unwavering, like a challenge that dared you to make the first move.

His eyes were dark, filled with mischief, and the slight raise of his brow was enough to make your heart skip. He wasn’t the kind of guy to back down, and neither were you.

You felt a pull. It was magnetic, instinctive. Something deep inside you told you that tonight was going to be different.

It didn't take long before he was standing beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, but just far enough to leave you wanting more. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.

"Thought you'd be a little harder to find," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Guess I was wrong."

A thrill ran down your spine as you turned to face him. "I wasn’t hiding," you replied, your tone a mix of challenge and amusement.

"Good," he said with a grin, his hand brushing against your side as he leaned back. "Because I don't like to chase, but I’ll make an exception for you."

The words were laced with intent, and before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours. It wasn’t a soft, tender kiss. It was rough, heated, like he had something to prove. You didn’t pull away. You welcomed it, matching his intensity, your hands reaching for his shirt to pull him closer.

The chemistry between you was undeniable, a fire that ignited with just the smallest spark. The world around you faded into the background as you lost yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the urgency of his touch. Your heart raced, and the only thing that mattered was the need to get closer, to feel more.

As the kiss deepened, you both knew this wasn’t just a fling. There was something more there, something unspoken, but the night was young, and who were you to fight the pull?

Jongho pulled away, his breath heavy as he looked at you with a smirk that made your knees weak. "We should go," he said, his voice dark, almost daring. "Now."

The two of you barely made it out of the club before Jongho’s hand was on your waist, guiding you toward the alley behind the building. The sounds of the music and laughter from inside faded as he pulled you toward his car, the sleek black vehicle glimmering in the low light. You could already feel your pulse quickening, anticipation bubbling up inside you.

Jongho didn’t waste any time. The moment you were in the car, he was all over you again, his lips attacking yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands were everywhere—your back, your waist, your thighs—and it was as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The energy between you two was undeniable, an electric current that made every touch feel like it was setting you on fire.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss for just a second as he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire. "I don’t want to wait."

You barely had time to respond before he was tugging at your clothes, pulling them off as though he was in a race. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your body already burning with need. The way he touched you—so confident, so sure of what he wanted—only made it worse. His hands were rough but controlled, the perfect mix of tenderness and raw need.

You didn’t hesitate. You knew what you wanted. You wanted him. And the feeling was mutual.

"Take me," you breathed, your voice shaky but filled with urgency.

Jongho didn’t need to be told twice. He was already positioning you, his mouth trailing down your neck, his hands working quickly to undress you completely. His body pressed against yours, the heat of him sending shocks through your veins. The whole world outside of that car faded away as he lowered himself, the backseat now the only thing that mattered.

"You’re so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart, giving him the access he needed. You gasped as he kissed you again, his lips claiming yours as his fingers worked their magic.

You moaned into the kiss, your body shivering as you felt him touch you in all the right places. His movements were smooth, calculated, and you could feel the hunger in every motion. You were hooked, already addicted to the feeling of his touch, the way he made you feel alive.

Without warning, he slid inside you, the pleasure coursing through you in waves as he moved. The rhythm was frantic, desperate, both of you driven by the need for release. The car creaked with each of his thrusts, the sound of your breathing, your moans, mixing with the steady beat of your heart.

"Fuck, I need you," you gasped, your hands gripping his back as you matched his pace.

Jongho’s breathing hitched as he pushed deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the car. He wasn’t holding back anymore, and neither were you. Every inch of your body felt alive, your senses heightened as you moved together, lost in the heat of the moment.

"Come on," he growled, his voice ragged as he kissed you again, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked you harder. "Give it to me."

You could feel the pressure building, the orgasm creeping up on you, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a final, desperate push, you came, your body shaking in his arms as he followed you, the tension in his body releasing in a rush.

Both of you collapsed into the backseat, panting, your bodies still tingling from the intensity of what had just happened. Jongho rolled off you, his hand reaching to pull you closer, his lips pressing against your forehead as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Shit," you whispered, your body still vibrating with the aftershocks of the pleasure. "That was... insane."

Jongho chuckled, his arm wrapping around your waist. "You’re telling me." He kissed you gently, almost tenderly, the shift in his demeanor surprising you after what had just happened. "You’re not getting away that easily, though."

You smiled, already knowing what he meant. This wouldn’t be the last time.

Weeks passed since that night in the backseat, but the memory of it still lingered in your mind. The way Jongho’s hands had touched you, how perfectly he fit with you—it was a feeling you couldn’t shake. And the anticipation of seeing him again? It was unbearable.

Tonight, you found yourself at a new bar, the energy different from the club you’d been to before. The music was more laid-back, the crowd more relaxed, but your mind was still racing with the thought of Jongho. You told yourself you wouldn’t let it consume you, but when you walked through the door and saw him leaning against the bar, eyes scanning the crowd, you couldn’t help but feel that same fire ignite within you.

Jongho looked even better tonight than you remembered. His jacket hugged his shoulders perfectly, the faintest smirk playing at the corners of his lips when his eyes found yours across the room. The moment your gaze met, you knew there was no turning back. That chemistry was still there, and it was stronger than before.

Without a second thought, you made your way toward him, your steps confident as you closed the distance between you two. When you reached him, he didn’t waste any time. His hands were on your waist, pulling you in close as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was full of promise and hunger.

"You’re here," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. "I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up."

You smiled, your fingers sliding up his chest, brushing the collar of his jacket. "I’m here," you replied, your voice a little breathless. "And I think you owe me a round two."

Jongho chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Is that so?" He pulled back slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze drinking you in. "I guess I can’t say no to that."

Before you could say another word, his hand slid down to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him. You gasped, feeling the hard length of him pressing against your stomach, already reminding you of how good it felt when he was inside you. The heat between you was palpable, and you could feel your body reacting to him instinctively.

"Let’s get out of here," Jongho growled, his lips brushing against your ear as he guided you toward the exit. You didn’t hesitate, following him out into the cool night air, the excitement building with every step you took. This wasn’t just about the sex anymore—it was about what you both needed from each other, something raw and undeniable.

When you reached his car, Jongho didn’t waste any time. He opened the door for you, letting you slide into the seat, and before you could even catch your breath, he was on top of you again. His hands were all over you, tearing at your clothes with a sense of urgency that made your pulse race. There was no holding back this time. It was like you both needed it, needed each other in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Fuck," you muttered as his lips traveled down your neck, his hands working to undress you completely. "You didn’t even let me catch my breath."

Jongho’s lips curled into a devilish grin as he hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire. "You don’t need to," he replied, his voice low and smooth. "I’m not giving you a chance to catch your breath. We’re doing this my way tonight."

And with that, he was inside you again, pushing into you in one smooth, fluid motion that had you gasping. The backseat of the car felt like it was the only place you two existed, the world outside fading away as Jongho fucked you like he couldn’t get enough.

Every thrust was deep and fast, driving you toward the edge in a way that made your head spin. You were lost in the heat, the need, the raw connection that burned between you. Jongho wasn’t gentle—he was rough and demanding, and you loved every second of it. His hands gripped your hips, his breath ragged against your ear as he whispered your name, his voice full of lust.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured, his pace quickening as he drove deeper. "I can’t get enough of you."

You moaned, your nails digging into his back as you tried to hold on to him. The pressure inside you was building again, and this time, you weren’t holding back. You wanted him to push you over the edge, wanted him to make you feel everything.

"Don’t stop," you breathed, your body trembling as you neared the brink.

Jongho grinned, his fingers digging into your skin as he moved faster, harder. "I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name."

And with that, you came, your body shuddering beneath him as you cried out in pleasure. Jongho followed you seconds later, his body tense as he finally gave in to the release, the two of you coming together in a rush of heat and passion.

Both of you collapsed against the seat, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Jongho’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he kissed your forehead, pulling you close as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Round two," you whispered, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

Jongho chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Let’s not keep the world waiting."

The drive to the hotel was a blur, the tension between you two thick with anticipation. Jongho’s grip on the wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep himself under control. You could feel the pull, the need, as if the air in the car was charged with static.

By the time you reached the hotel, you were already half-dressed, desperate for more. Jongho didn’t even bother with the niceties of checking in. He grabbed your hand and led you straight to the elevator, his eyes never leaving you as you both shared a heated look. The moment the doors closed, he was on you.

His lips crushed against yours, hard and hungry, his hands sliding up your body, tugging at your clothes. You didn’t stop him. You were just as desperate, your hands roaming his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt. The elevator felt like it was moving in slow motion, and all you could think about was the room at the end of this ride.

When the elevator finally dinged, signaling your arrival on the right floor, Jongho didn’t hesitate. He pulled you out, his pace quick and urgent as he led you to the door. With a single turn of the handle, you were inside, and he was pushing you against the wall, lips crashing against yours again, this time more desperate than before.

You moaned against his lips as his hands slid down to grip your hips, pulling you against him. You could feel his arousal through his pants, pressing against you, and you shuddered at the thought of what was coming next. Jongho was so different in this moment—he was a man who took what he wanted, and right now, he wanted you.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice rough and low as he backed you toward the bed.

Without hesitation, you obeyed, peeling off the rest of your clothes in a swift, almost frantic motion. Jongho watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his breath shallow as he stripped out of his own clothes. The sight of him, all hard muscles and inked skin, had your pulse racing.

The moment he was naked, he was on you again, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands slid down your body. You arched into him, craving the feel of his touch, the way his hands left a trail of fire in their wake. He pressed you down onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kissed you deeply.

"You want this, don’t you?" Jongho asked, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you breathed, your hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer. "I want you."

He smiled darkly, his lips curling into a smirk before he kissed his way down your body, his hands parting your thighs as he moved lower. You gasped as his mouth found its destination, his tongue flicking over your most sensitive spots, teasing you just the way you craved. Every stroke of his tongue sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making it impossible to think about anything else.

"God, you taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin as he continued to lick and kiss you. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts, just feeling the pleasure build up as his mouth worked magic on you.

But you wanted more. You needed more. You pulled at his hair, guiding him back up to kiss you again, this time with more urgency. His hands roamed your body, every touch making you ache for him even more.

"Fuck me, Jongho," you whispered, your voice breathless with desire.

Jongho didn’t hesitate for a second. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock heavy against your entrance. He looked down at you, his eyes full of hunger and something darker—something that made your heart race.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," you gasped. "Please, I need you."

With a low growl, Jongho slammed into you, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself deep inside you. The force of his thrust made you gasp, your body jolting with pleasure as he set a punishing pace. The sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room, along with the breathy moans and gasps that spilled from both of you.

Jongho’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you with relentless intensity. Every thrust was deep, driving into you in a way that made you see stars. Your body responded to him with every stroke, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him for dear life.

"Fuck," you cried, your body shaking beneath him as the pleasure mounted. "You feel so good."

"Yeah? You like it when I fuck you like this?" Jongho’s voice was gruff, his words laced with dominance.

"Yes," you gasped. "I fucking love it."

His thrusts grew faster, more frantic, and you could feel the tension building inside you again. The pressure was almost unbearable, but you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted to fall apart with him, wanted him to push you over the edge again.

With a final, forceful thrust, Jongho drove into you deeper, his body tensing as he groaned your name, spilling inside you in hot bursts. The sound of his release sent you tumbling over the edge as well, your body shaking as you came, your walls clenching around him in pleasure.

Jongho collapsed on top of you, his breath heavy against your neck as you both tried to catch your breath. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the aftermath of your intense connection.

"God," he murmured, his voice low. "That was fucking incredible."

You couldn’t help but smile, your body still trembling from the pleasure. "Yeah," you whispered, tracing his jawline with your finger. "It really was."

And you both knew this wouldn’t be the last time. You were hooked on each other now, and there was no turning back.

[ice-and-starlight]

And! Important note here!

If you do want to write an entire essay on why you don't like a ship, godspeed, have fun (or have a cathartic time, I guess), but don't post it in that ship's tag.

I say this as someone who has both 1) vented my spleen about a thing in fandom I didn't like in an inappropriate place and 2) had a fantastic time 'yes and'ing with friends about a thing in fandom I abhor.

Option one makes you the asshole. Don't do it. Don't go into the specific tag of the thing you don't like and spew hate. It's a bad time for everyone, and you will feel shitty about it once the self-righteous vitriol wears off. And if someone you follow posts a thing without the tag, scroll past (if it's frequent, unfollow them; curate your fandom experience responsibly).

Option two is fun. You hate this thing? Enough to need to burble up all that awful feeling out into the world so it's not festering inside you any longer? Do it! Write that essay! Examine your thought process, explain in detail what it is that gets your back up, pick at all the flaws you can find until the whole thing unravels in your hands.

And if you really must share it, we have #anti [thing] tags. I've used them, and they serve (like #[thing] tags) just as much as a warning as an advertisement. People who like the thing won't go there unless they're looking for a fight (in which case, they're the asshole).

You are allowed to not like the thing! You are allowed to not like it just as vocally as other people like it.

But you have to remember that this is a shared space, and the polite thing to do here in fandom is tag your shit appropriately so that people who don't want to see it don't have to.

Fandoms these days seem just crazy. It's like people in them have gone crazy. I mean seriously.

Vander and Silco is a ship of two adult men who are brothers in arms (and who are basically lovers in that alternate universe), but even here people manage to get offended by this harmless ship and say that shipping Vander and Silco is like shipping Silco and Jinx… and I honestly don't know what to say about those who have such ideas in their heads. I thought that something like this would never happen in the Arcane fandom, but it turns out I was so wrong.

No, seriously, this obsession with so called "family dynamics" is sometimes terrifying.

We are shipping adult fictional men, and shipping them literally doesn't hurt anyone too, but people still manage to get offended and surprised by the fact that there are those who see them as a couple. And it's getting to be annoying.

I mean, shouldn't people by now be used to the fact that if there are two characters on a show with incredible chemistry, someone is going to ship them anyway? And that that's totally okay?

[youchangedmedestiel]

Funny how it didn't trend right away after what Jensen said.

It's like the calm before the storm.

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[gurenkurosen]

ohh i think im coming to a bit of a realization actually as to why mmos are so scary when im forced to party

[la-principessa-nuova]

first off i want to say that everything you’re describing here are all very much thoughts that went through my head at some point, and not just say that they will get better, but to give you the additional datapoint that i had all these same thoughts and yet for me it has gotten better.

I ended up writing a lot so i guess read whatever you feel like (as always) and i’ll put it after the fold so it doesn’t take up too much space on people’s dashboards:

that creeping sense of doubt of what if it’s all wrong or what if i can’t do it can be so hard to go through, and I’m sorry that you’re so deep in that right now. it did get better for me with time. it still comes into my head from time to time, especially when i’m around people who are deadnaming/misgendering me a lot or in an environment where i’m not out, but it definitely gets easier to deal with, a little bit just over time but especially as people around you start respecting your name and pronouns and treating you like a woman (either bc they change or bc you change your surroundings but either way).

for me, the thing that has helped the most in combatting the doubt, and you mentioned this already, is that counterpoint that when you think about going back, about having to pretend to be a man again, it feels so bad to think about. Because once we’ve had a taste of self-actualization, the pain of hiding and being someone else is just so much more noticeable with the context and the language/mental model to describe it. But that feeling is such a clear and present form of gender dysphoria that always reminds me why I’m doing this.

When I question if I could really be a woman because it seems so uncomfortable to push through all the conditioning that I’m not allowed to be, I think about being a man and it seems so foreign and so wrong that it helps me distinguish the feeling of truly not being a gender from the fear of the unknown and the fear of putting myself and my femininity out there to be rejected.

And when I fear that I will never pass and be read as a woman, I think about all the years that I was failing to pass as a man. All the rooms full of men (and boys earlier on) who tried treating me as one of the guys and it felt so wrong, and when I would use one of their phrases to fit in and it felt so gross coming out of my mouth. Never fitting in, never being truly part of things. Physical features are actually way easier to change than how we think and feel.

And when I think about the same situations with women, while there was a discomfort, introspecting on that made me realize that what I was feeling was that I wasn’t allowed to be there. I feared rejection from the group I wanted so badly to be part of and yet had been conditioned to believe I could never be. I felt like my presence in those settings was obtrusive, offensive, and threatening. These were all things I needed to work on (and still do to an extent) that clouded my sense of belonging within those groups.

i think it might help to show that this stuff gets better if i share a bit of my own story.

i first realized that the feelings i’d had about being more feminine and not like one of the guys meant that i was trans when i was 19, sitting in my dorm. it was the first time i had been away from home with peace and time to myself to think enough to do some deep introspection. i processed a lot of what i’ve mentioned and a lot of what you’ve mentioned at that time, and it was so overwhelming.

i didn’t think i could ever even tell my parents, and they handled all of my medical appointments and things still, so there was no way i felt like i could “medically transition” (whatever i thought that meant at the time). so after initially figuring things out, I just stopped thinking about it. I got busy with school and getting a job and I let that stuff keep me distracted, and every now and then when I had some time alone I would think about the fact that I’m trans and my gender and just feel this huge sense of cognitive dissonance as i continued to tell myself it’s not an option.

I convinced myself that even though I was technically trans, I didn’t need to transition, I could just get through life knowing for myself and hopefully one day I can find a partner who will be respectful enough about trans stuff that I can be open with it about her and that will be enough. But I was lying to myself, and eventually that all caught up with me when I moved out of my parents’ house and had some free time to introspect again and privacy to not be embarrassed reading about and watching videos by trans people explaining everything.

And then finally after 8 years I had a moment where it really sank in that I had to transition. I realized that while I could maybe keep myself alive and go to work and find some little joys along the way, I could not live until I transitioned. I realized that I could never relate to a partner who is expecting me to be a guy, and that at best I could hope to make it to old age and die sad and alone with no real friends and no partner. I realized that my creative pursuits were suffering because I wasn’t experiencing life. And I finally realized how many things that, even knowing I was trans, I hadn’t realized were manifestations of gender dysphoria.

And even after that, I still had doubts, and for the first 6 months or so after that they were so strong that I was afraid to come out to anyone irl because I didn’t want to pass the point of no return where I couldn’t just quietly throw away all my feminine things and go back to before. Even now they come and they go, but I know how to get through them without letting them send me so far into a spiral.

And when I started transitioning, I felt like there was zero hope of it working. I felt like I looked so masculine and like I could never be read as a woman, let alone completely “pass”. I thought I’d get laughed out of the room if I ever told anyone I was a woman and asked them to call me a different name and use she/her pronouns, especially my parents. I thought I’d pass so poorly nobody would ever see me as woman. But already, only 9 months into HRT, people do, and people have even earlier on.

But in some environments, people who know me from before still see me as a man in a wig, and it hurts, but it’s getting better with time. My conservative dad who had said severely transphobic things over the last few years, just a couple weeks ago, called me Sabrina for the first time. And in the conversation afterwards referred to me as his daughter. It gets better.

You will learn how to handle these struggles and avoid spiraling with time, and even if you never pass, the world will become more accepting in the long run.

As for your fears about the difficulties of transitioning, they are very valid, but while stressful and difficult, I have found them much easier to handle than the moments/contexts where I’ve had to boymode a lot and started to get sucked back into the before-times.

I’ve also come to realize that I was overestimating a lot of the difficulty and that fear was the hardest part both to experience and to overcome (although context: I have OCD and that definitely played a role, and also I live in a very blue state). The biggest step that reduced the most stress for me around transitioning was finally actually accepting that it was my life to ruin as I wanted. That I can disappoint my parents and that’s fine actually. That I can dress in ways that clash or don’t quite work and that’s fine. That I can not quite perfectly cover my stubble or make my body shape conform to feminine standards and most people won’t notice or care or think that means I’m trans even.

And also that outside of your family, people tend to care a lot less and get used to change a lot quicker, and if they don’t, you’re not stuck with them. The one exception I’ll say is possibly school, if you’re still largely with a cohort of people you’ve known for a long time (idk how common that is with like some in sixth form and some at college if i understand the uk school system correctly).

So for me there was a lot of like accepting that I can do it wrong and adjust and eventually I’ll get there. And that I have to woman badly to learn how to woman well. Like I have to actually put on makeup if I want to get better at doing it. I have to talk to cis women about things I still feel like I’m not allowed to in order to get comfortable with it. And learning to separate out those insecurities to know how to deal with them one by one.

idk i kind of rambled for a bit but hopefully some of this makes you feel less alone and maybe gives some advice on dealing with things. (and oh god i’ve been writing for 2 hours??? why can’t i do that for my book like i do for tumblr posts?)

i think im starting to accept that im a girl and. im just heartbroken

i feel robbed, i couldve been so much happier and im grateful that ill get to be, but its all so much more complicated. its not fair

i shouldnt feel as calm as i do. it seems so up here but i feel like its just stress masquerading as quiet. i just dont have the words anymore

they should get to work on that button

[prettycottagequeer]

.

[taeyungie]

😺

[sysig]

Ughhhhhhh